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shit-scfandom-did · 3 years

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so i have a few questions

1)i cannot understand how you ship k*ramel. their relationship was FILLED with toxicity. from mon-el failing over and over again to listen to what kara had to say to him basically telling her to give up being kara danvers. convincing her that "being supergirl and having you is enough” was absolutely horrible. karamel had their moments but overall it was toxic. then in s3 mon el was married and the whole point of season 3 was allowing them to move on. accepting the toxicity from s2 and pushing past that romanticized time. mon el was a better person by 3b but he was still married. even if mon el and imra did break up in the finale there’s no future for karamel. even during 5x13 kara went to ask on advice about lena. and when winn came to visit from the future not a word about him. she’s moved on and it just wouldn’t make sense for kara to end up with him.

2) how can you hate lena so so so much?? it’s been said over and over again that all she’s ever wanted to do is good. though she’s designed to be this morally grey character. she has FLAWS but that’s what makes her so good. she’s a victim of abuse and you can see her struggle with that especially in seasons 4 and 5. in 5 she definitely goes down a questionable path but how can you expect her not too? after being emotionally abused by her brother, betrayed by her family, andrea (this did happen before kara), and then eve. finding out that kara and EVERYONE she loves has betrayed her as well. I mean how could you not go mad?? and even when she “went mad” she was trying to rid humanity of PAIN. something she later realized was a necessary part of life. her hurt blinded her from reality and lex’s manipulation pushed her down further. she’s been hurt and broken so many times and while that’s not an excuse for what she’s done you have no sympathy for her and that I find appalling. lena has realized what she’s done is wrong, that she’s made mistakes, what she did to kara, and she will have to live with that isn’t that punishment enough? she’s apologized and is trying to make up for everything she’s done by saving the world (again). your unnecessary hate towards her infuriates me. cant you take a step back and see the whole picture?

3) why DONT you ship supercorp or accept the queerbaiting? (watch this: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=C2w2GBXd_Pg) They are the core relationship of the show while the danvers sisters are the heart. they’ve gone through so so much together and practically dated in early season 2. they love each other it’s just oh so apparent. i like to believe one of the reasons lena reacted so strongly in s5 is because she was in love with kara and she couldn’t handle the person she was in love with lying to her. and kara flew around the world to get lena’s favorite food!! if that’s not romantic idk what is. I feel like you’ve developed such a clouded view of supercorp that you need to take a step back and understand what lena is the love of kara’s life.

wow what a long message. im not here to hate. im here to inform & undertand. i get it. karamel had their moments and even MY perception of them might be a little cloudy. im not going to hate you for liking them. hell I even shipped them for a little! my brother thinks 3b mon el and kara would’ve been perfect but he understands that supercorp is just where the show is leading and he wants them to be endgame. but what I will hate is your hate. what’s the point of all this? this thread, this account is going to do NOTHING. so why bother? I debated sending this and I hope I’m not too harsh at times but I really wanna see what you say. I hope you can open your eyes to lena and supercorp. maybe even become a supercorp shipper yourself!

- thanks and supercorp endgame 💙❤️

First of all, if you want to discuss ships in the future send this type of anons to facepalming-since-chernobyl, this blog is not for this, but for gathering receipts.

1.I just ship it, I don’t get why you have to understand it. It’s shipping. But if you insist:

No, it was not filled with toxicity. Count me when he failed to listen to her when they were in a relationship. Secondly, he is not a dog, he has his brain, he is his own person. People don’t always do what others asked them to do. It’s not slavery.

He has NEVER said to her to give up being Kara Danvers. How did he exactly convince her? How can you read the scene that he convinced her that being supergirl and having him is erasing Kara Danvers? In this scene he supports anything SHE WANTS to do. Also, Kara Danvers doesn’t equal Kara being a reporter in CatCo. On that moment she had her blog. She change people’s live with it like a real reporter. She took the risk and met consequences of her actions aka being fired by Snapper. Also, remind me who told her to create a blog? With your logic Lena was erasing Kara Danvers too.

Friendly reminder that he was forced to the marriage to keep peace. Also, friendly reminder Imra and the Legion out him in this situation without telling him about her plans. She and Brainiac put him there, knowing exactly how much he loved Kara and how much she meant to him. Imra knew that, that’s why she asked him to stay and solve his feelings. She said if he had come back, she would have known he had no doubts. But he wanted to stay, that’s why they broke up. He came back because once again he sacrificed himself for the greater good, like a real hero. Maybe watch the Argo eps because they clearly show that no, it was no about moving on.

It was not accepting about so called toxicity. First of all, she already forgave him that he lied. Secondly, all of she was screaming in that scene, when she was infected with M’rynn’s powers, happened before they got together and it was already approached in the musical ep. Aka, this scene had no point.

There is no future for karamel because you say so?

Kara went to asked him, because she truly believed and trusted him and his judgment. And yes, she asked about Lena and what did he said? That Kara deserved the same compassion she gives others, something Lena never gave her. And sorry, I know all scs scream the 100 ep was about sc, but it was about Kara fully realizing she is not responsible for Lena’s horrible choices. That’s it. And friendly reminder she called her a villain in the last scene. Also, the ep showed than no matter what, Lena always ends screwing something, because she has too big ego, always knows better, doesn’t stand criticism and doesn’t trust anyone.

It doesn’t make sense for you. Suit yourself.

2.Her fans made me hate her :) Thanks to them and how they excuse her every horrible action, how they treat her as a victim, while she abuse everyone etc. I started to watch her more carefully. And well, she is a horrible, white, privileged capitalist, who plays god, judge, jury, has mommy issues and acts like typical Luthor while crying she is not one, while still using Luthors money and resources.

Yeah, many people want to make good and end doing evil things. Common people pay for their sins, she has never. Since allowing hostile Daxamite army to invade the Earth (also, her portal affected the other aliens who destroyed the NC), producing a device that could recofnize aliens without their consent (and it was used by Children of Liberty,)producing and lying about Kryptonite, trying to make people superpowered without any supervision, killing Adam during illegal experiment, supporting openly alienphobic president and in a way Agent Liberty, killing Lex and then blaming Kara and finally manipulating Kara for months, lying, gaslighting, yelling, making her steal Lex journal, trying to lobotomize her and tortured with kryptonite, hurting every way possible, physically and mentally. Working with mass murderer, enslaving 3 people (kidnapping Eve, without her consent putting AI into her mind, basically RAPING her brain and making her a puppet in her own body; enslaving end experimenting on Malefic and Russel – threatening to kill him to steal Andrea’s necklace) – none of it are flaws. It was horrible abuse and violating every human right and the fact some people excuse it is disgusting.

First of all, being victim of abuse doesn’t give you the rights to HURT other people. The fact I have to explain pains me. Secondly, what abuse exactly? Lillian didn’t love her? Lex kidnapped her? Said he was going to kill her? You know what? Winn HAD HORRIBLE past and he didn’t turn into a murderer. Mon-El was abused by his mother and never tortured Kara with Kryptonite. J’onn killed a lot of white martians but last time I checked he doesn’t feel good about it. Also, never said the things he has done were GOOD. See a difference?

Yeah, and all of it, still doesn’t give her the rights to torture people. Also, friendly reminder she lied to Supergirl about Kryptonite in s3, much before the whole drama. Remember how she destroyed the life of a girl that stole boyfriend in middle school? It clearly shows she always had THAT in her. Plus, sorry not sorry, if she wanted different life, outside her family she could have easily done that. She was in Star City, with Jack, doing her researches, making her career. And she threw it all away, because she WANTED to be a Luthor.

Plus, sorry not sorry, if you feel betrayed and hurt because your friend didn’t tell you something she didn’t OWE you, you go to therapy, not trying to lobotomize entire planet.

Mate, she wanted to lobotomizer entire humanity, without ANYONE’S consent, because SHE, one single Lena, felt hurt. This is playing a GOD. Nothing explains it.

Planning a cold ass revenge for months is not being blinded by feelings.

Once again, even if could argue about how many times she was broken, most of that was a white privileged life she chose herself but whatever, it still doesn’t excuse her. All of she has done should meet consequences. Paying for shit you have done, accepting it, fully realizing what you have done is a part of redemption. Still in s5 she didn’t even apologize to Kara. Because she still didn’t understand what she has done and doesn’t feel sorry about it.

Feel appalled as much as you want, because I’m not going to feel sorry for a white, privileged woman who has never paid for her actions and is basically a living avatar of the worst Karen you can imagine.

She realized Lex was using her horrible experiments (remember? She experimented on puppies too) to his own agenda, that’s why she went to Kara. That’s not grasping a thing. Mhm, if you call that an apology then suit yourself. She is not saving the world, she is helping once again other people fixing the shit she created.

Feel infuriated as much as you want, because I don’t care? Especially when it comes from a person who tells others to take a step back while being totally narrow minded about Mon-El and karamel.

3.Because actors, prodcuers, writers call SC a female friendship. Mel did that in her last interview. See whatever you want but maybe stop forcing people to ship a horribly abusive ship.

Well… no. Kara is the heart and soul of the Supergirl. Alex is her most important relationship. Lena is an important friend, who doesn’t deserve it yet, but we all know Kara is the Paragon of Hope so of course she is going to forgive her.

I know you people think sc dated because they breathed in one room, but in s2 Kara dated, had sex, kissed, cuddled and enjoyed her time with Mon-El.

Yeah, they love each other as friends. It was said more than once.

That’s your delusion, you are free to do it.

Kara done that to Alex too, so you are saying she is romantically in love with her sister or something? If bringing people food is romantic and damn, most of the people I know loves me, god.

No, lena is not Kara’s love of her life.

Cool, you are not going to hate me because I ship karamel, I’m touched.

Sorry that you are going to be super disappointed in the end of the show I guess.

You will hate my hate – what’s the point of it?

Once again, because I don’t think you understand the point of this blog or read the description – it’s gathering receipts of assholes who cross tag and hate on the actors. Maybe go and search #gross hate or #cast hate on this blog so you can see how amazing your fandom is. Have fun.

I would rather eat my own shit than starting shipping the victim of abuse with her abuser.

Thanks and no :)

#anons

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lovely-angst · 3 years

Text

a glimpse of the past

//SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 299!

pairing: hawks x reader

genre: fluff and angst

word count: 2.7k

summary: Hawks’ past was unknown to you and you were okay with that, for now at least. But when your quirk had gone out of control and you find yourself in an unfamiliar location, you spot a pair of very familiar wings.

a/n: my writing is kinda rusty here, sorry!

02.05.21

Hawks was different—not in a bad way, but in a mysterious way.

You knew so many things about him, but there were more things that you didn’t know about him.

These things he kept a secret from you didn’t keep you from loving him any less. Though there were times when it hurt because he kept them from you, Hawks would always press a soft kiss to your forehead, saying, “When the time comes, I’ll tell you.”

And because you loved him, you waited.

There were days where the only time you got to see your boyfriend was when he was on the news. Even after a rough battle against some villain, he still smiled bright and warm—It was easy to miss a person like him.

The days when he would be able to come home were your favorites by far. It usually consisted of nothing more than chicken take-out and lots of cuddles, but you didn’t mind.

Hawks was set out for a complicated mission, possibly one of the most critical missions, he explained, sparing you no further information for your safety.

It was almost time for Hawks to report to the commission as he stood in the apartment’s cozy living room the two of you shared. Your gentle hands lightly brushed away stray wrinkles on his jacket before you glanced up at him with a comforting smile.

“I’ll miss you,” he says quietly, “so much.” Your hand brushes his hair back more before you press a kiss onto his forehead, “me too.”

“Do you think you could use my quirk on you?” you ask carefully, watching as Hawks gives you a rueful smile. “Are you sure, birdie? You might not like what you see.” He could see the hesitant look in your eyes.

Your quirk allowed you to see a glimpse into the future of the person you touched as if you were there in person. If you were able to get a good hold on them, for example holding their hand, you could see the scene clearer and with greater detail.

Hawks was right to warn you—what if you saw him dead in the future?

Shaking the terrifying thought from your mind, you nodded before grabbing onto his hands. “Just to keep me from worrying more. Did you want me to tell you what I’ll see?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile and you smiled back before closing your eyes, allowing your quirk to activate.

Structures began to take place in the black canvas of your mind before you found yourself standing in the middle of debris from a destroyed building. Turning your head, you saw Hawks in Tokoyami’s arms as the two seemed to be escaping.

Turning your head, your eyes caught on to the smoke flowing from one of the rooms, blue fire seemed to peek through gently before a shadow stood in the doorway.

Suddenly, your body came back to the present as you opened your eyes to see Hawks staring at you somewhat worriedly. “Are you okay? You seemed a little distressed while you were gone there.”

All you could do was offer him a small sorry. “I can’t seem to tell if it’s good or bad, but you were with Tokoyami. The two of you seemed to be escaping from a lot of smoke and what seemed like blue fire.”

With that, Hawks gave you a comforting smile before leaning in to place a kiss onto your forehead, “Thanks dove, keep the nest warm for me.” You nod with a chuckle from his words—he loved referring to the apartment as a nest.

When he began to walk out to the balcony ready to take off, you quickly ran over to him to pull him in for a kiss, “I love you, do your best.” Hawks stared into your eyes full of love and adoration before he too pressed a kiss onto your lips, “Will do, and I love you too,” and with that, Hawks took off.

The mission wasn’t carried out until three days later, when there had finally been a news report.

The news didn’t report much on the battle because of how dangerous it was at the scene. From what they could report on, they managed to collect footage from helicopters on all the destruction done.

The battle was all the news outlet seemed to cover. Your heart pounded in your chest every time you watched the news—you couldn’t seem to pinpoint Hawks anywhere on the footage they showed, with wings as large and red as his.

Hawks was often away for missions, but you felt especially lonely this time around. It seemed all of Tokyo was waiting to see the aftermath of all of this destruction.

All you could do was hope Hawks was okay.

Your phone jingled beside you as you glanced down to find Tokoyami’s ID flashing on your screen.

“Hello? Tokoyami? Is everything okay?” you asked worriedly. “I’m fine, I just thought you might want to come visit Hawks. The hospital is allowing close friends and family to visit, so I thought I’d give you a call.”

Your eyes teared up from his thoughtfulness. You made it a mental note to treat the student someday.

“Thank you for calling me Tokoyami, I’ll be on my way.” and with that, you hung up the phone before quickly making your way to the hospital.

It had been a few days since the war against the villains had ceased. Those injured were hospitalized right away, including your lovely boyfriend. He wasn’t allowed any visitors at the time, but it seemed things were beginning to look up.

Approached the hospital, it wasn’t easy making your way through the large group of news reporters, fans good and bad alike. Thankfully you were able to pass through into the hospital thanks to some of Hawks’ hero friends.

As you made your way through the hospital, you noticed Tokoyami standing outside Hawks’ room. “Tokoyami,” you greet loud enough for the student to hear as he turned to give you a polite bow.

“I want to thank you again for the phone call and for looking out for Hawks,” you confess, “I saw you saving him through my quirk,” Tokoyami looked shocked before he composed himself and gave you a nod. Reaching over, you pulled the boy in for a comforting hug.

“Hawks is alive because of you. You’re an amazing hero, Tokoyami. Don’t forget that, okay?” Pulling away, the young man gives you a shy smile before he nods. “Thank you, (Name)-san.”

Turning towards the door, you rest your hand on the door handle, hesitating, only to hear Tokoyami’s voice cut through your thoughts. “It’ll be alright, (Name)-san. He’s been waiting for you.”

It was your turn to nod at the male before you slide the door open, stepping inside the too quiet room filled with the constant beeps of the hospital equipment.

With a deep breath, you brush past the curtains to see your boyfriend glancing out the window from where he laid on the hospital bed. Your heart broke seeing him hooked up to multiple machines, bandages wrapped nearly around his whole body, but that wasn’t the worst part—his wings were missing.

Gently, you knocked on the door, signaling your arrival. Right away, you noticed the panicked look in his eyes as he turned to you, your smile faltering as a result. Did he not want you here?

Cautiously, you walk over to his bed, pulling out a chair for yourself as you made yourself comfortable beside his bed. “Tokoyami called me over,” you say with a gentle tone, “he’s a really nice kid, remember to treat him well.”

The overpowering feeling of trying to repress your tears that threatened to slip out was difficult. You told yourself you’d be strong for Hawks, but seeing him in such a state—it was almost impossible.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry,” you say with a small chuckle as you began to wipe at your tears, “but it’s hard not to cry when I see you all bandaged up like this and hooked to all this equipment.” You sniffle once more, glancing over at Hawks, only to find him staring at you.

You really tried to get Hawks to settle down, but he just didn’t seem comfortable with you around. With a frown, you glanced over at him, “You look really nervous and tense right now, Hawks. Do you not want me here?”

His gold eyes shot to yours, even more, panicked now than before. Your brows furrow sadly as you watched your struggling boyfriend. Suddenly, he pointed to his throat before your eyes widened, “You can’t speak?” He nods.

Turning, you search through your bag before pulling out your phone, pressing on the notes app before handing it to him, “you can use my phone if you’d like.”

Taking your hands in his, he begins to type away before pressing the speaker button, letting your phone read out his message, “I do want you here. I just didn’t want you seeing me like this.” Giving him a sad smile, you leaned over towards him before pressing a kiss on his forehead, “Don’t be silly. How are you feeling though? Physically and mentally?”

“Not good. Tired physically and mentally,” you frowned from his comment, wishing there was more you could do for him. “I’m sorry to hear. If it makes you feel any better, I plan on staying overnight at the hospital. I was able to get work off.”

His eyes softened and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips. “I love you, you know. I’d never leave you when you’re struggling,” Hawks glances down at the phone, typing a quick message before letting it play. Your laughter fills the air before you shake your head, “and even if you’re not struggling.”

Times like these sucked, but Hawks was glad that you were here to help him.

Throughout the day, Hawks slept like a log from his exhausted and medicated state. Thankfully, the doctors had informed you that he was healing exceptionally well and even if it took some time, his wings were bound to grow back.

The nurses would occasionally come in to check on Hawks and change any bandages as they needed to, making sure he was healing at his potential.

It was past 11 at night when you had woken up from a late nap. You had moved the long sofa from the window over beside Hawks’ bed to be closer to him at night.

Sitting up, you decided to check up on Hawks, who was still sleeping. Pushing the sofa back enough to stand between the sofa and the bed, you hovered over Hawks, brushing his messy bangs back slightly. He looked so much more peaceful asleep.

And thankfully, he was doing just fine. Letting out a relieved sigh, you shut your tired eyes before placing your hand on his, but suddenly, your quirk activated itself.

You found yourself falling into the dark abyss. Your surroundings began to take shape and it wasn’t long before you found yourself in an unfamiliar place.

Glancing around, you observed the soft clouds that drifted along the bright blue sky. You could see what seemed to be the main town in the distance, filled with tall and large buildings alike.

“Keigo!”

Hearing a sudden shout, you quickly turned around to find an old rundown shack that laid out in the middle of nowhere. “Who’s Keigo?” you thought to yourself as you quickly glanced around before making your way to the shack.

Peeking through the worn out doorway, your eyes glanced around at the torn up shack and how mangled up the place was. It seemed as if someone was living in this shack.

You caught a glimpse of the woman who sat on the floor silently, but the tense man had caught your attention.

The rugged looking man seemed to be fuming with anger. It wasn’t until he kicked the small child that sent you shooting towards him, “Hey! Leave them alone!” you cried as you tried to push the man away, only to phase through him and onto the ground.

Turning around, your eyes were met with familiar red wings, but this time smaller. As the man walked away, the child leaned over to grab the Endeavor doll that had gone flying from the impact of the kick.

“An Endeavor doll?” you questioned, glancing up to take a look at the young boy. That’s when it all clicked, “Hawks?”

Suddenly, the black abyss opened back up above you. The scene began breaking and shooting up before you too went flying up into the emptiness.

Your quirk was fading—you were waking up.

Gasping awake, your breathing was heavy and labored as your eyes quickly scanned the area before they landed on Hawks, this time from the present. His hands gripped your forearms tightly as a worried expression crossed his face.

Gently, his hands slid up until they landed on your cheeks, holding your face in his hands as you began to sob uncontrollably. Everything you had just seen and heard was too much for you to handle.

His thumbs caressed your cheeks in efforts to comfort your shaken form.

You didn’t know why your emotions seemed to burst out of you, but you had an idea it was because of how you had seen a glimpse Hawks’ past—something he had kept a secret from you.

“Hawks,” you choked, staring into his gold orbs, “m-my quirk activated when I touched you, but it sent me to the past instead, your past.” His hands faltered slightly against your cheeks. Reaching up, you placed your hands on what you could manage on his cheeks before whispering,

“Keigo, that’s your real name, isn’t it?”

Hawks’ eyes widened as he pulled away from you, shaken from hearing his name come from your lips. Dragging your hands down, you slip your smaller ones into his, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“I got a glimpse of your past. I saw that little shack you lived in. I think those adults in the room were your parents. He was calling you ‘Keigo,’ and you were just a little boy.”

Hawks shut his eyes with furrowed brows as you recalled what you had seen. If he was honest, this wasn’t how he wanted you to find out, especially when he was roughed up and stuck in the hospital.

But he was also relieved to have it off his chest—fate must’ve played a role in this.

Guilt slowly began to eat at you as Hawks sat quietly on his hospital bed, not paying you any attention as he hung his head low. Was it a mistake telling him about his past?

“I’m sorry,” you start awkwardly, “it wasn’t my place to say all of this. Um, I’m just going to step out for a few minutes. I didn’t mean to-” Before you could say or get any further, Hawks tightened his grip on your hands, keeping you in place. “Hawks?”

Releasing your hands, he made a gesture to your phone before you leaned over to grab the device for him. You sat in anticipation as you watched him type away before the robotic voice filled the room.

“I didn’t want you finding out like this,” You could only manage a sad smile, his fingers typing away once more. “Once I heal and once my voice is back, I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

“You don’t have to if you’re not ready,” you try, but Hawks shook his head, “I can’t keep hiding this from you.”

With a shaky breath, you nod. Hawks was set on his decision and you would go to him with an open heart and with open arms. He trusts you and you trust him back.

Lying back down on the sofa that sat beside his bed, you reached over his hand once more before making yourself comfortable, “For now, let’s go to sleep. You need to rest, my sweet bird. I love you, have a good night.” you say.

Closing your eyes, you could only hear Hawks getting himself comfortable in his bed before a few taps were heard.

“Good night, I love you too, chickadee.”

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tennessoui · 3 years

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oh my god literally every single prompt on that list is gold and i'd love to see your obikin take for all of them. hmmm... if i had to choose i guess first 13. co-stars au?? thank you lots of love !!!

ah bless!! thank you so much!! i'm slowly working my way through most of the prompts on that list so you might see many many more before I'm done with my ask box. I think after two more, I'll put em on ao3 to keep em more organized too. this has been soooo fun!!

13. Co-Stars AU(/7. Fake Relationship AU)(2.5 k)

“No.”

“Ani, darling, you can’t say no.”

“Don’t call me that. And secondly, I can. I just did. This is my personal life, the company has no control over that.”

“While you’re filming its movie and it’s giving you money, you’ll actually find that it does, Anakin.”

Anakin sits down heavily on the bench outside his trailer, leaning forward until he can put his head in his hands. He wants to run his fingers through the mess on his head, but they’re in between takes right now and the make-up department will definitely kill him if they have to fix him up again.

“Asajj, please. You know how hard it was to get to come out as bisexual. If the first person I date after that is a woman, no one will remember! It’ll just be completely erased, and I’ll be Anakin Skywalker, Playboy Actor again.”

“But you do like women,” Asajj points out. “So either way, you’d be confirming your sexuality.”

Anakin sighs and leans his head back against the metal of the trailer. “And it would be different if I was actually in love with Padme, but she’s just my co-star and--”

“Anakin, she’s your co-star. You’re in a blockbuster movie where you dramatically save her life and then kiss her as the credits roll. This is just business. You like her. You’re friends. Think of it less like dating, and more like going to grab lunch together. And coffee. Maybe a fancy dinner. Several times a week.”

��For how long?” Anakin asks, resigned and despairing and hating the fact that he ever got into acting.

Asajj sounds relieved. “Just until the movie’s out and sales are doing well.”

That could be months. That would be months. “And I have to?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

Anakin doesn’t say it’s fine. It doesn’t feel like it is fine.

“They’re not looking for anything to be confirmed. If asked about your relationship with Padme, tell them you think she’s a great woman and you’re enjoying spending time with her. No comment on any sort of serious relationship.”

“Because a break-up afterwards might hurt the chances for a sequel?” Anakin asks drily.

“Exactly! We’ll get you a head for the business yet, Anakin. Okay, I have to go, but I’ll send you the information now, just so you know what you’ll be expected to do. We’re thinking a dinner tomorrow to start things off strong, and then slow afterwards!”

She hangs up before he can say anything else and he slumps back boneless against the metal trailer. God.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Padme. Ventress is right. They were friends before this project and Anakin knows they’ll be friends after as well. They genuinely get along, and it’s probably one of the reasons Anakin was cast in such a big name production: the chemistry between them when they’re acting is undeniable. She’s one of his favorite people in the entire industry.

“Anakin?” One of his other favorite people in the entire industry asks hesitantly from in front of him. “Are you alright?”

“No,” he says.

“May I sit?”

“Yeah,” he says.

Like he’d ever turn Obi-Wan Kenobi away.

“Are you wearing your costume?” he asks, without opening his eyes. Obi-Wan’s playing the villain of the movie, and Anakin has a hard time focusing on anything else when Obi-Wan’s around him wearing that skin-tight white turtleneck and cape combination, with his hair slicked back and fake glasses perched on his nose.

Obi-Wan sounds amused. “No, I’m finished for the day. Heading home now. You don’t have to see how silly I look today.”

Anakin smiles slightly, despite everything. In one of his better acting moments, he’d told Obi-Wan that his costume was distracting because it looked so funny on him. Really, it was just hot.

(Of course, Obi-Wan had taken his criticism seriously and gone to the director and the costume department. They had decided that it would make Obi-Wan’s character more threatening if he pushed up his sleeves in almost every scene to reveal heavily tattooed forearms. Anakin had hated himself and his big stupid mouth for days afterwards.)

“Is...there anything I can do to help, Anakin? I hate to see you like this,” Obi-Wan places a hand gently on Anakin’s knee, and Anakin has to fight a shiver at the touch.

They’d met at the script-reading for the movie, a handful of months ago. Anakin had set two clocks in his head the moment their hands grasped each other and Obi-Wan smiled charmingly up at him. “So you’re the one to kill me?” He’d winked. “Tall order.”

One clock signified the weeks it would take for him to fall in love with the older man. The starting number was pitifully small, but Anakin had been watching Obi-Wan’s movies and interviews for years before meeting him. He’d known something about the man, which of course had paled in comparison to knowing the man himself. They’d spent two weeks choreographing the steps of the final fight scene, just the two of them in a repurposed ballet studio.

Looking back, Anakin isn’t sure how he’d survived. And he had never wanted it to end.

Which is the other clock, still ticking down in his head. The moment filming ends, and they go their separate ways. They’ll probably keep in touch, but Anakin won’t see him constantly, won’t be able to lean into the weight of Obi-Wan’s hand on his shoulder, his knee, sometimes even on his cheek when he leans down in between takes to tell him how good of a job he’s done.

“Anakin?”

“Sorry,” Anakin snaps to the present. “Sorry. I was in my head. I. I don’t think so, no.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, tensing his hand as if he’s planning to remove it, which Anakin wouldn’t appreciate in the slightest.

“My agent says that the executives want me to date Padme. To drum up hype for the movie. Because I guess people will think it must be good if the co-stars start fucking each other?” He runs a hand across his face. “Um. Sorry, excuse my language.”

“Anakin, I’m forty-one, I think I’ve heard someone say fuck before,” Obi-Wan sounds amused again.

“Yeah, I just. Don’t want to? I guess maybe--I mean you probably didn’t see, but I came out as bisexual a year ago, and I haven’t dated anyone since, and I just know the way the rags will write about me and Padme if we’re seen together. And it’ll be like I just. Never came out.”

Obi-Wan makes a sympathetic noise but doesn’t interrupt. It’s one of the reasons Anakin loves talking to him.

“And my agent just sent me this contract, or I don’t know, list of things I have to do because there’s no way for me to get out of this and it just makes me feel trapped. But they don’t even want me to confirm if we're dating or not dating, they just want to create rumors about it, but it’s my life. I want to do what I want to do with my life, date who I want to date.”

“Do you...have anyone you want to date?” Obi-Wan asks, hand stilling from where he’s been casually rubbing circles on Anakin’s knee.

“No,” Anakin says too quickly and then grimaces. Does he really get paid for acting? He’s always so terrible at lying.

Obi-Wan hums. “I could...take a look at whatever papers your agent sent you?” He suggests. “I’m obviously not really an expert, but I have been in the business a fair bit longer than you.”

“You’re not that old,” Anakin responds by rote, but hesitates, curious despite himself. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“I’ve nothing planned tonight except to have a glass of wine and pet my cat, Anakin. It would be a pleasure to help you any way I could.”

“Okay,” Anakin says, reaching out to lay his hand gently on top of Obi-Wan’s. He’s never done that before, never responded so openly to Obi-Wan’s touches. It’s an amazing thrill.

Obi-Wan flips his hand around until they’re holding hands, basically. In the middle of a public area. God, Anakin’s letting his crush get the best of him when Obi-Wan isn’t even gay. “Thank you,” he says, standing up and pulling away from the older man. It’s the right thing to do. The last thing he wants is for Obi-Wan to think he’s...predatory.

A harried looking crew member spots him as he stands and gestures to him to get back to the set. He smiles ruefully at Obi-Wan who gives him an unreadable expression but also a soft goodbye.

Later, in between takes, he forwards Obi-Wan the emails Asajj sent him, both the papers and the message at the top that says “dress nice for tomorrow at Delfino’s!” followed by a little smiley face he can’t believe she’d ever mean.

He knows nothing’s going to come of it, but. But he has to try.

----

Padme’s dressed to the nines in front of him. He’d compliment her outfit, but he’s already complimented her hair and her make-up, and he thinks she’ll scream if he continues to act as stilted as he’s being now.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly after the waiter leaves with their drink orders. “I know I’m being--awkward. I just.”

They’re seated in the middle of the restaurant, and Anakin knows there’s two paps already outside, taking pictures through the windows. The rest will have arrived by the time they pay the bill and leave. It’s a circus and he’s the main event.

“I understand,” Padme responds, the angel that she is. “I don’t particularly want to be doing this either.”

Anakin presses his hand to his chest, jokingly wounded. “What are you trying to say, Padme, my beloved, my dearest?”

She laughs and he does too, but in the back of his head he can hear the sound of a camera’s shutter clicking. Everything feels fake, and he feels like he’s about to crawl out of his skin.

A hand lands on his shoulder with startling familiarity and for a second he thinks it’s a very brave member of the wait-staff, before Obi-Wan Kenobi is swinging into his field of vision, pulling up a chair from god knows where and sitting right in between Anakin and Padme, never once removing his hand from Anakin’s jacket.

“Sir--” someone says in distress, “This is a two-person table.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow and looks down at the table. “Well it certainly can fit three, so I would go as far as to say that tonight it can be a three-person table. Anakin, what did you order to drink?”

“The house white,” Padme supplies when Anakin makes no move to respond, instead choosing to gape at Obi-Wan like a fish out of water.

“Excellent choice, darling,” Obi-Wan says, rubbing at his upper arm absent-mindedly. “I’ve never been here, tell me. Do you serve a good seafood dish?”

The waiter stammers. “We have an acclaimed oyster platter, sir--”

“Oysters?” Obi-Wan smiles at the man, all teeth. “The aphrodisiac? What are you trying to get these kids in the mood for?”

Anakin blushes. “Obi-Wan!” He hisses, aghast. Obi-Wan’s eyes cut to him for a second before he smirks back at the waiter.

“I’ll take the oysters for the main course,” he says dismissively.

Somehow it’s that sentence that tips Anakin off, more than anything else he’s done tonight. Obi-Wan spends hours talking to the people that run the crafts table. He would never be so cold or rude naturally. He’s...playing a character, one that Anakin recognizes as being the villain from their movie (although without all the blood and murder).

Anakin only recedes into personas when he’s nervous about something. Can the same be said for Obi-Wan?

Padme, at least, looks amused. “Hello, Obi-Wan,” she says. “I see you’ve decided to crash our very romantic date.”

“Well that’s interesting, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan replies, turning to face her but keeping his hand on Anakin, although it slides down to rest on the crook of his arm. “I had Anakin send me the paperwork, mild curiosity, you know how it is, and I realized the strangest thing while I was reading over it.”

“Oh?” Padme asks.

“It never states which co-star Anakin should be seen with, just that he must be seen with a leading actor. And I don’t want to focus on the numbers here, of course, but in the rough-cut of the movie, I have thirty-four minutes of screentime. And you, my dear, have thirty-two and fifteen seconds.”

“Tragic,” Padme says, taking a sip of her water. "You may be considered more of a leading actor than I am."

“Certainly,” Obi-Wan gives her a friendly smile. Anakin is still stuck on the fact that Obi-Wan is here, that he read the paperwork, that he’s arguing semantics for the purpose of--of--

“And I suppose you’re here to offer yourself as a replacement?” Padme asks, leaning her head on her hand as she watches the two of them.

“Only if Anakin wouldn’t mind,” Obi-Wan says, turning to face him.

Anakin isn’t sure what he’s thinking right now. “But you’re not interested in men.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan says.

“But...you’re not interested in me.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan says.

“You are?”

“Excuse me,” Padme says. “I’m going to go to the restroom.”

“We’ll wait to order until you come back,” Obi-Wan reassures her, without taking his eyes off of Anakin.

Anakin bites his lip and hesitantly brings his hand up to sit palm up on the table. Obi-Wan doesn’t hesitate to intertwine their fingers again, like they had been just yesterday.

“I’m a very private person, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says quietly, all traces of any sort of persona dropped from his voice. “I’ve never come out, never wanted to. But I was so proud that you had when you did. And I--well. I suppose. You already get to fake-kiss Padme on screen, I thought that perhaps you’d like to try to fake-kiss someone else for a change.”

Anakin ducks his head and gathers his courage. He can’t not ask. A fake relationship with Padme would be awful, but one with Obi-Wan? That would be torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. He’s still reeling from the information that apparently Obi-Wan does like men and apparently he likes Anakin enough to come out for him.

But does he like Anakin enough to touch him and mean it? He has to know. He looks up at Obi-Wan’s earnest face from beneath his eyelashes. “What if I want to real-kiss you?”

Obi-Wan blinks, and a smile breaks out across his face. “Then you don’t even need to have to ask, darling. Kiss me all you want, if you’re okay with a clingy old man in your bed.”

“Not that old,” Anakin argues, smiling so hard he’s afraid his face will crack in two. “But I don’t want to kiss you tonight.”

Obi-Wan turns solemn, although his grip on Anakin remains tight. “We can go as slow as you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh, you can have me later,” Anakin says, waving his free hand in the air. “I just don’t want our first kiss to be for the cameras.”

Obi-Wan catches Anakin’s palm and brings it up to kiss lightly. “You’re right, Anakin. That should just be for you and me.”

The rough brush of his lips over his skin causes Anakin to shiver. He’s never felt so on edge, as if his body is a live-wire. “Good thing you ordered the oysters,” he mumbles, blushing bright red as Obi-Wan laughs loud enough to fill the whole restaurant with its sound.

#asks #my fics #obikin #the next prompt is gonna be wayyyy more angsty so enjoy the fluff rn is all im saying #prompt fill

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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History of Us Part 35- The Storm

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Masterlist Kofi

The plan, both that of the reunion squad and that of the pro heroes, goes to shit almost immediately. Your father is a smart man and the compound reflects that. Almost immediately upon breaching the entrance, the pros realized that the information they had on the building’s floor plan was incorrect. They were also wrong about the compound solely being occupied by you, Dabi, and your father. Several lower level villains have been kept on retainer precisely in case of a situation like this. Not only had Shoto and the others not been able to sneak past the pros to try and find you but the pros had actively requested their help as things rapidly devolved.

Then your father finally made his appearance in dramatic fashion, and that’s when things really went downhill. Literally half the compound was blown sky high as your father released a massive flurry of shadows racing out to push back the heroes. Several of the pros on scene are immediately knocked out of commission, leaving the smaller villains to run into the city and cause trouble. Tamaki is one of the first to recover, quickly organizing some of the remaining heroes and sidekicks into squads to track down the villains now racing towards the more densely populated commercial area nearby. “I’m trusting you to handle Black Storm,” he tells Endeavor. The older man only gives him a nod before Tamaki is off to try and minimize the damage being done.

Shoto starts to worry as he realizes he still hasn’t seen you but before he can begin searching properly a familiar voice stops him in his tracks. “There you are little brother, I was worried you might not show,” Touya grins. Shoto’s eyes narrow at his brother, his quirk itching to be released as he stares him down. “Where’s (y/n)?” Shoto all but growls. “You sure she even wants you to find her?” Dabi teases, his amusement at the situation palpable. “Absolutely,” Shoto replies without even a hint of hesitation or doubt. “Tell you what, prove you really are dad’s perfect little experiment and beat me. If you can do that much I’ll lead you right to her. I’d hurry if I were you too, her daddy dearest didn’t take too kindly to finding heroes at our door and poor (y/n) is his favorite punching bag,” Dabi grins. “With pleasure,” Shoto growls before lunging forward.

This is a disaster. You’ve managed to only bump into one sidekick who’d made it deeper into the remains of the compound but even that small fight had been enough to aggravate your injuries. Your vision swims as you rush towards the sound of the fighting. You know your dad’s been using quirk enhancing drugs lately and the pros aren’t prepared for that kind of firepower. You want nothing more than to just sit down, close your eyes, and try to heal yourself, maybe even take a nap, but there’s no time. You’re the only one who can stop your dad now. You know it in your gut. So you push through the pain and the slight dizziness to keep moving. You’re nearly knocked off your feet as a series of explosions shakes the compound, followed by an all too familiar battle cry of “DIE!” Fear surges through your veins like ice. You’d recognize Bakugo’s voice anywhere and even if you couldn’t there’s not exactly a ton of explosive heroes who threaten to murder villains out there. Bakugo would never come alone, which means more of your friends are surely in the fray and in danger. You grit your teeth, focusing on them and your determination to save them, and start running towards the commotion glowing only faintly but enough to hold you together.

Shoto has never fought this hard his entire life. He lands hard on his side but quickly rolls to recover and get back on his feet. He throws up a wall of ice, partly to slow Dabi’s progress as he comes surging towards him, but partially to stave off the after effects from using his left side so much. Sweat pours off his forehead as he desperately tries to hold off from overheating. As Dabi burns through his ice, Shoto launches himself forward to meet his brother halfway. He’ll be damned if he loses this fight. He has to get to you, especially if what Dabi said about your condition is the truth. For a single moment Shoto manages to pin Touya down but before he can do anything more he notices Dabi’s gaze is focused not on him but something off to the side. “Your girlfriend finally joined the fray,” Dabi grins, causing Shoto to immediately snap his head that direction to find you. Relief floods him at seeing you alive but he’s snapped back into the moment as Dabi suddenly engulfs the two of them in flames, causing Shoto to rear back with a curse. “Don’t get distracted baby brother, this fight isn’t over,” Dabi taunts as he uses Shoto’s momentary distraction to get the upper hand. Fire and ice both emerge as Shoto is filled with another wave of determination. He’s so close to getting you back, he won’t let you slip through his fingers again.

The chaos is even worse than you thought when you finally get to where all the fighting is. All around you your friends and various pros are battling villains. Buildings further down the street are burning where Tamaki is trying to keep the villains contained to a smaller area. To your right Shoto is locked in combat with Dabi and frankly it takes your breath away. Shoto is magnificent. You’ve never seen him look so resolute before and you distantly wonder if that’s the real reason Dabi exposed your location: to see this side of his younger brother. You probably could have stood there just watching the two of them forever but a loud crashing noise to your left jerks your attention away as you watch Endeavor hit the ground hard after your father had thrown him. Your stomach sinks when you notice what rough shape he’s in. You knew this would happen the moment you found out your father was using quirk enhancers but it’s still unnerving to see the number one hero struggle so much. You look up to see your father grinning like a mad man, clearly delighting in the pain of a man he once claimed to love like family. More importantly, however, you also can see the characteristic black veins crawling up the side of his neck. Steroids or not, your quirk still comes with a price. Your father is just about to deal what looks suspiciously like a fatal blow as he gathers a large mass of shadows into both hands but before they can reach Endeavor you jump in front of the fallen hero and unleash your own blast of shadows to dissipate your father’s.

You think you hear Endeavor say something behind you but the words fall on deaf ears as you watch your father’s face twist into a grimace of betrayal and rage. “I should’ve known you’d choose them,” he spits before unleashing another torrent of inky blackness shooting towards you. You widen your stance to brace yourself and then unleash your own torrent back with your right hand, using your free hand to brace it. “After all I did for you, this is how you repay me? You traitorous bitch,” he accuses, his voice roaring over the sounds of battle around you. Rage burns through you at his words and you embrace it wholeheartedly as you continue to push back against him. “All you did was abuse and traumatize me,” you bite out. Your head is throbbing but you can’t let up, not now, not when you’re so close to ridding yourself of your father for good. “I did it to make you stronger! You could’ve been the most powerful person in all of Japan, we could’ve built an empire together!” he responds, as if somehow that justifies how he’s treated you; as if that empire wouldn’t be built atop the corpses of innocents. “I am strong. Stronger than you. In spite of you, not because of you,” you shout.

After that final declaration, you’re done talking. Instead you close your eyes, grit your teeth, and you think of every single time your father abused you, every time you lashed out at those you loved because of the trauma he ingrained in you, every time you suffered because of his crimes. You think of your poor mother who works double and triple shifts so she can provide for you. You think of that fateful day your father brought you into work and traumatized you out of his own selfish desire to mold you into what he wanted you to be. You think of all of the pain and hurt and anger and you pour it into your quirk even as black veins start to crawl up on your own skin, even as they climb up your forearm, then your shoulder, then your neck, and onto the right side of your face. Your entire right side feels like it’s on fire but you push and push through until you finally start to feel the resistance from your father giving way as his quirk overwhelms him. You hear yelling and it takes a minute to realize that the raw, pained sound is coming from you as you push and push and push until finally you feel the resistance fade completely and the shadows you’d sent out connect with your father. You gasp as you finally release your quirk although you notice the right side of your body is still on fire. Your head feels fuzzy and your vision is definitely swimming but you push through it. You have to make sure it’s over. Your father sways on his feet, eyes empty and black veins completely marring his face. After a moment his body collapses to the ground completely limp and relief floods through you.

It’s over.

It’s finally fucking over.

As the adrenaline slowly starts to drain out of you, you hear someone call out your name. They sound panicked. Why do they sound panicked? You turn to the source of the voice slowly as the world starts to spin around you. You vaguely recognize Shoto’s alarmed face as he sprints towards you before everything goes black and you collapse.

A/N: This took me literally all of yesterday to write and was difficult to start but holy shit am I happy with how it turned out. We’re entering the home stretch ladies and gentlemen.

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso @sunaispretty @shot0stea @todoplusultra @oliviasslut @lapysllazuly @immah0e4fictionalmen @cinnamonruts

(Bold means I couldn’t tag you)

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malereader-inserts · 4 years

Text

Gotham’s Sunshine

Fandom: Gotham Pairing: Gotham & Male!Reader Summary: Gotham has a lot of bad people, a rarely good people, but they have one sunshine and it’s their precious’ boy Word Count: 1,366 Warning: Descriptions of wounds and death A/n: I did promise that the next time I write a Gotham piece it would have a good reader or... is the reader actually good?

Gotham is a pretty gruesome place, if you think about it, how there are always villains arising every other week. The murders, robberies, arson that occur almost on the daily and how the weather is usually shit. But, there is one good thing about Gotham.

It’s the coffee boy. Radiating warmth and happiness, it seems like he brings his own light and sun, no matter how grey and rainy the outside world may be. His coffee shop is small, yet comforting, and not only that but it produces the best baked goods as well. It is the only place where the villains have kept their peace because you somehow put a spell on them.

You were always smiling, goofiness twinkling in your eyes. You were just a pretty boy, handsome and perfect hair. It was like unspoken rule between everyone that they do not want to piss you off. It was frequent to have two villains bump to each other in the cafe, with usual awkwardness, they seem to keep the peace level at the maximum. You often brush off the tension with a smile and a wink.

“Good morning Oswald,” You greeted at five in the morning, a light chirp to your tone, “Morning to you too, Zsasz.”

Oswald raised an eyebrow as Victor blushed at your wink to him, Oswald cleared his throat as your sweet look turns to Oswald, who flushes at your divine attention. He sinks down, almost submissive to your stare.

“The usual (Y/n), please,” Oswald requests, sweetly as you nodded.

Tapping on the screen as you got to work with the coffee machine. The barista has tired eyes, yet there is that glimmer, a give away of your good heart. You have one of those surviving sparks, one of the ones who held on to who they really are. You were true to who you were, you were never fake and never wanted more from the villains. You didn’t want money whenever bad people come to your coffee shop, begging you to take a sun of the money because you have such a whole heart that they want to keep you happy.

You never want to hire anyone to kill someone, Zsasz even offered for a free price but you refused because you don’t have a bad bone in you. Often at times, they wondered what it was like to be you. Soft, loving and understanding. You weren’t vindictive.

“Here you go,” You push two to-go cups and a brown bag of pastry goods, “That’s been 14 dollars.”

Oswald nods as he hands out you money, you smiled and put in the register as Victor pulled out his own money to give you a tip. You beamed as he pocketed the money away before the two men threatened any of your coworkers on how you get the money and they don’t. And you’ve seen many bad guys whip out a gun faster than you can blink.

“Thanks, guys, if you’re lucky, you can miss Jim and Harvey...” You pointed behind them, as see Jim coming out of the police car.

The two nod, saying their thanks as they take their leave. Missing the two detectives quickly as you put on a smile, they wave at you as they enter.

“I take it, usual again?” You asked as your finger hover a black coffee for Jim as he nods, you tapped the screen as you looked at Harvey, “And you, Harvey? Black coffee too?”

“Ah- Uh, can I get one of those fancy coffee?”

“ Macchiato?”

“Yeah, that.”

You snorted as you nodded, tapping it before swirling to the machine. Usually early morning is just you in the coffee shop, seeing that you are nocturnal, but yet a morning person at the same time.

“Anything entertaining?” You asked as you gave them their coffee and asked for payment.

“You ask this every time we come here.”

You shrugged your shoulder as Jim smiles at you, “It gets boring here quickly, I need gossip you know?”

“The more they know, the more likely you’ll get yourself killed.”

You slammed the register closed, the two detectives jumped and feeling uneasy at your joyful smile. You shrugged your shoulders, tilted your head.

“Doesn’t that make life a lot more exciting?”

“Did you hear?”

Gossip started to travel in the police station as Jim looked at Harvey, who shrugged his shoulders. They went to Alvarez’s desk and asked about the gossip, the whispers that were happening.

“The infamous coffee and bakery cafe has been damaged, they found one body...”

“No, it can’t be-” Jim stuttered.

“(Y/n) (L/n) was found dead, a slit to the throat and multiple wounds,” The other detective hands Harvey the case files, “Camera was broken before the scene, no witnesses and no leads to go on.”

“I feel pity for those who killed his sweet man, I don’t think we’ll find out who did it before the bad guys of villains team up to kill this bastard that killed their one last thing of goodness,” Harvey was reading the file, for once interest at the words.

“We have to check up on them-”

“GORDON!” The detectives snapped their head at the entrance way to see Penguin, standing straight with murder in his eyes. Zsasz next to him as well as Edward Ngyma, his glasses down at the bridge of his nose.

“Oswald-” Jim came walking at a fast speed, “I don’t know what’s the story, I’ve just found out.”

“Somebody killed out boy, Gordan,” Zsasz sang, before his tone dropping, “You do realise if you don’t figure it out this city will burn.”

“We will flip this city, if it’s needed,” Edward sneered, “I hope you’re aware, this will be the only time we will work together to find justice for (Y/n).”

“I’m aware, and I will do everything,” Jim nodded promising, “You’re not the only one who’s upset about his matter.”

“Say,” Harvey pipes up from behind Jim, “You still mayor, Cobblepot? Why don’t you make a funeral for (y/n), you’re the one that was the closest to him. I’m sure you can get busy with that whilst Jim and I will find evidence to his murder.”

Oswald looked irritated that he wasn’t going to be able to help and that he was pushed away from the investigation, but he had no faith in other bad guys of Gotham to take care of a funeral.

“Fine, but keep us posted.”

Jim nodded watching the bad guys slowly leave the station. He turns to his partner, telling him to talk to detective Alvarez to update him about all the information as Jim makes a call. Whilst Harvey looked sceptical, Jim rushes to the back exit of the station. Greeted by a mysterious figure.

“What’s your reason then?”

Jim sighs, running his hand through his hair, “You had to get away from Gotham, it’s not a place for you.”

“I had my life here, Jim.”

“I know, but, live your life, travel the world, go get that degree you’ve been dreaming off. Gotham will always be here.”

“I don’t know about that, Jim, Gotham will be a different place when I leave, and I don’t think Gotham will be welcoming when I return.”

“You’ll be a different man, go, be free.”

“Promise me one thing, Jim.”

Jim tilted his at the request that was about to be spoken to him. The eyes boring into his, there was no sunshine or happiness. Just like that day, it radiated gloominess and rain. It was somewhat threatening.

“The only reason I am leaving Gotham is that I am the key to all things here. My request that I want you to promise is to make it believable.”

“Okay,” Jim nodded, watching the figure turn around, and start walking towards a black car with tinted windows, “Wait.”

The figure looked at him.

“Have a good life, (y/n), I’ll see you soon.”

Jim swears he sees a flicker of the smile that he was so familiar with. Before you sharply turn and get in the car. For the last time, Jim Gordon was the last person to see (Y/n) (L/n).

#Gotham #gotham imagine #gotham x male reader #x male reader #platonic

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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No, Bruce! You can’t Adopt her.

This isn’t salt, Cupcake. But I’m going to do a quick drabble of this anyway because it’s an awesome idea.

The suit was a deep dark red. Darker than it used to be from what they had seen saw from the previous news reports reviewed. Her mask was black. Her eyes a startling blue and her hair a shade just touch short of being as dark as night. The girl looked to be no older than thirteen or fourteen.

Somehow she had shown up on the scene just before any of the batfamily could and immediately solve the riddles, freed the innocent civilization, dismantle the bomb with rubber duck and a hair pin, dodged the trap, and was now fighting off the Riddler and his men.

And as they watched her kick the Riddler in the face and then yo-yo away, only to spin around and do it a second time, all the batkids knew they’d have to step in.

“You can’t adopt her, B-Man,” The Redhood pinched his nose.

Robin opened to his mouth his defend his father but quickly shut it. His four adopted brothers, an adopted sister, one sort of adopted “cousin”, and the hardcore way his father had been pushing Luke spend more and more time at the manner to the point where Lucius Fox had taken to glaring at the Dark Knight.

“…She needs a mentor,” Came Batman’s gruff response.

“You need a therapist.”

They winced when Ladybug broke the arm of a 300 pound bodybuilder and slam him on the ground.

Nightwing gave his dad a grin, “I’d love a new sister, OUCH!” His hand went his thigh and saw blood. He glared at Robin. “Did you stab me?”

Robin slowly sheathed his sword. “…No.”

“Let go!” Riddler screamed as he clawed at the floor as the red menace dragged across the floor by his legs.

“Stop squirming!” Marinette barked. “You’re going to jail!”

Somehow the Riddler managed to free himself. Then it was Ladybug chasing the Riddler around the tower.

“Come back here, you fashion disaster.”

The caused the Riddler to pause and give the hero the most hurt look anyone of the batfamily had ever seen on him.

“Black Bat would love a sister.”

“Leave me out of this,” Cassandra’s voice rang in their ears. She was patrolling with Batwoman across the city.

The fight ending with The Riddler hogtied, and dangling from the ceiling, while Ladybug chastised him on the rudeness of strapping people to bombs.

Batman smirked.

“No!” Red Robin decided to step in, “She probably has parents. You can keep doing this B.”

“And another thing,” Ladybug hissed. “I’ve seen Disney villains with more style than you; you walking neon glowstick.”

That was when Batman decided to step in. The Riddler visibly brightened at seeing him, “Bats, I don’t like this Robin. She’s mean. Bring back the boy Robin”

“That one lit you on fire.”

“…She made me cry.”

Ladybug glared at the bad guy.

Oh yes that was it, Batman was going to adopt Ladybug.

Bruce Wayne was going to adopt Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl and the rest of her class had taken the Wayne internship program that lasted a little more than a month a half during summer.

Marinette was the star. Unlike the other interns, Marinette was never late. She never complained. If someone needed research done, she was the first to volunteer and was exceptional at it. Tamara, Tim’s assistant, swore by her. The girl took to assisting the assistant to the CEO like fish to water. When they need a big name to perform at the Waynes’ annual charity Gala, after theirs backed out on short notice, Marinette had saved the day.

She didn’t interrupt. She had merely leaned down and whispered in Tamara’s here, who then addressed the rest of the room.

“My assistant Marinette,” Tamara nodded with a relieved smile at the young girl. “Would like us to direct our attention to the front screen.”

They all did. A few months later, the screen split and Clara Nightingale was on the screen, looking as glamourous as ever.

“Marinette,” She beamed. “Love, you are as gorgeous as ever. Now what’s this about a party in Gotham?”

Before she could answered, there was a beep on the screen as another call came in. Marinette scrambled to disconnect it, “One moment. Sorry.” Tamara got up to help, only for the call to connect anyway.

That was when Jagged Stone appeared on the screen, “Marinette, how’s it rocking? And Clara, I didn’t know you were on the line too. Penny!” He yelled. “I’ve facetiming Marinette and Clara. How you doing, loves?”

“Jagged,” Clara beamed. “I’m great. Xy’s been bugging me to lay vocals on his new tracks. I’ve heard better from my nephew’s garage band; and his nine.”

Jagged winced. “That’ll tank a career. Dude’s a sound biter.” He turned his attention back to his favorite bluenette. “Marinette, what’s up? What’s with the stiff in suits?”

Marinette blushed, “I’m Gotham working as intern for Wayne Industries.” Marinette said. “We’re in a meeting.” The young girl smiled prettily. “This is my amazing boss, Tamara!” She introduced the older black woman, standing between her and Tim. “And we could use some help with a Wayne charity event, on the 19th of this month.”

“I’m there!” Jagged grinned. “Hey! Penny, we’re going to Gotham. Marinette invited us to a party. We’re rocking out!”

“I’d love to come,” The brown-haired superstar clapped her hands. “I have been to Gotham yet. It will be an experience. I can write a song about Batman!”

“Well, we only need one of-” Marinette started but stopped herself as someone, Tim, jabbed her in the side. The only give away that something had happened was the slight widening of her eyes and then cough from Tim, when Marinette stomped on his foot. “Maybe, you guys can perform together.”

“YES!” Clara screamed excitedly. “A duet. A clash of natures.”

“Rock and Pop,” Jagged grinned his approval.

“The fans will love it,” The singer looked at Marinette. “Send us the deets. Jagged, I’ll call you in five to start composing our song.”

“Rock it out, talk later Marinette!”

Then the calls disconnected.

“Clara Nightingale and Jagged Stone,” Bruce leaned back in his seat. “Well done, Marinette.”

The Asian girl nodded, “Thank you, sir.” After the meeting let out, Tim, Bruce, Tamara, and Marinette remained behind as they finalized the information to send to the singers.

Bruce noticed Marinette give Tim a dark look, and then were was a huff and Tim winced in pain.

“Stopping fight with your brother,” Slipped from the billionaire’s mouth before he could stop it.

The room froze. Tim’s face morphed from shock to understanding to an incredulous expression, “No. I’m telling, Alfred.”

Bruce crossed his arms and pouted. Pouted. Marinette make an excellent additional the family.

Her and Ladybug.

He wondered how well the two would get along. If only he could get the two in a room together.

Meanwhile…

Lila had been feeding the class lies about her time in Gotham and living with the Wayne family. Alya believed every word, and had requested an interview with Lila’s Dami-bear.

Somehow she’d gotten stuck working in the mail room with Alya and Kim; neither were happy. She didn’t even know where Marinette ended up so she could spin a tail about the other girl threatening her to switch assignments.

The only bright spot was the Damian Wayne frequently visited Wayne tower to learn about how the business works. However, whenever she tried to get close to him, he’d give her a look of disdain.

That didn’t bother Lila though. As soon as he got to know her, or rather the her she’d tell him she was, Damian would fall head over heels.

However, as the weeks went on in Gotham, she found all her plans to get close to the Wayne heir failed. She even tried visiting his home, feigning being lost, only for the Butler to send her packing. Lila didn’t even get a chance to look inside.

When she learned about the gala, she upped her game. She found herself just “happening by” whenever Damian just happened to be walking by. One time, Lila even pretended to trip and hurt herself; only for Kim to “rescue” her and Damian to walk on by like she didn’t even exist.

On the night of the gala, she sat in her hotel room with her adoring classmates, watching it on TV, “I’d have gone of course but Dami-bear didn’t want me to get attention from any Gotham villains.”

Alya nodded sympathetically.

Lila opened her mouth to regale another tale about her and Damian love affairs when Sabrina cut her off, “Hey, that’s Marinette!”

And sure enough, the girl they had all froze out and declared their ex-friend was on screen walking with Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, a beautiful black woman, Damian Wayne, and Tim Drake. Marinette wore a stunning sliver dress that made eyes stand out even more.

“Who are you wearing, Clara!” A paparazzi called.

“MDC,” The superstar answered and placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “This designer here. Marinette Dupain-Cheng; she designed all of our looks tonight; including her own. Doesn’t she look wonderful?”

More questions were thrown out.

“Jagged, why a crocodile? Why not a dog or a cat.”

“Damian, who are you dating?”

“Why is MDC with you, Tim?”

Jagged answered first, “Well I wanted a dog. But I’m deathly allergic to fur. Found out when I was a kid. Can’t get near it. Dogs are cool but cats aren’t rock and roll enough for me.”

“I am dating no one,” Damian answered. “Any rumors that say otherwise are lies. Anyone that says otherwise is lying, and should keep in mind I will sue for defamation of character.”

Tim grinned at the crowd, “Marinette is Tamara’s intern. She helped organize this wonderful event. She did such an amazing job as an intern that I’ve had to stop my dad from trying to adopt her.” There were laughs from the crowed.

Damian snorted as they walked inside, “He is not joking.” He was the one who found the adoption papers.

#marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #class salt #ml salt #bruce wayne #crack #batfamily

4K notes · View notes

babybatscreationsv2 · 3 years

Text

SpiderVerse: Predators ch25

Marvel | Starker

Peter Parker is barely keeping it together. Dealing with Gwen Stacy's death, Harry Osborn going MIA, and MJ refusing to take his calls, has the guy feeling seriously run down. Now to top it off, his uncle Ben is facing serious prison time. Fortunately or unfortunately, New York's own Kingpin of Crime, Tony Stark, has offered him a deal to save his uncle. On a positive note, this Kingpin guy is kind of hot. Is it wrong to sleep with a murderous criminal?

Rating: Explicit

Warnings under the cut

warnings: mentions of violence, mild degrading language

Peter was on edge. His every waking moment was like drowning in a pool of anxiety. Where was Murdock? Was Harry okay? Would Elsa betray them? And then there was Tony. Tony who could be so fragile when it came to their relationship. Peter didn't know much about his past, but he'd pick up on the abandonment issues. Tony didn't like it when it was away. But Peter had other things to worry about.

May was happy that he was home, though she seemed worried by the change. At least Peter could see that she was doing okay. She was clearly still in pain. Every time something reminded her of Ben she would sob and end up leaving the room to go cry. Sometimes, though, she laughed. The happy memories came almost as often as the reminders of loss. Peter wished he hadn't left. He should have been here with her suffering the same cycle of suffering and grief. He deserved it.

George Stacy had apparently been coming over once a week. He and May had their own sort of potluck night. They each prepared a dish and they ate together which was super awkward now that Peter was home.

Happy also went with May on her regular bingo night. Once a week, they went out for breakfast together. May's social life was far more impressive than his own. Too bad he had killed or driven off every friend he had. It just made him miss Tony more, but at the same time, Tony made him feel lonely. Tony added an extra element of secrecy to his life that took him from 'double-life' to 'triple-life'. Tony Stark was a villain in Spiderman's world. He wasn't much better in Peter Parker's. He wasn't sure who that made him when they were together. The Kingpin's pet? Spiderling? Whatever it was, it was a whole different mentality. Spiderman had a darkness that threatened to come out and kill, but Tony Stark called on a different darkness. One that he could say he liked even less. Yet, he'd gotten a taste for poison and it would kill him if he stopped now.

The only time Peter felt comfortable leaving May alone was when he knew she was with Happy. He didn't know the guy personally, but if he knew Tony, then he knew his life was on the line if he fucked up. Those are the moments that he stole away to soothe what anxiety he could. He went to visit Elsa.

It had been one week since Venom went into Harry's body. Whatever the creature was doing... well, it was doing something. Harry's skin was more normal and less lizard-y now. His legs were back to human proportions. There were a few patches of green skin left, but Peter had hope that a few more days should do it.

Elsa was a train-wreck. Her hair was tangled and stuffed into a bun on top of her head. She kept losing her glasses. Peter came in one day to find her stumbling into things. When he helped her find her glasses, she broke down crying. Apparently she hadn't needed them ever since she first bonded with Venom. The bruises on her shins from running into the coffee table were all reminders that it wasn't there looking out for her.

"It'll be over soon and you can have Venom back," Peter assured her. They sat together on the couch.

Elsa sniffled and nodded her head. "Just a little while longer. I know."

"Have they been able to communicate with you at all?"

Elsa nodded, then she laughed, the sound bursting out of her. "They said 'food'." Peter laughed, too. "I've been feeding them bits of chocolate. Not great sustenance for a human, but it's what Venom needs."

"You made a monster in a lab that only eats chocolate."

Elsa smiled fondly. "They're my monster."

Peter felt a prickling all the way down his spine. He went to the window and looked out. No sign of trouble. Then he heard screams and glass shattering.

"I gotta go."

"Take care, Spiderman."

Peter raced through the city. There was a pit in his stomach that only grew as he continued on. And then finally, he reached Stark Tower.

A crowd, no, an angry mob was gathered around the building. People threw rocks and bricks. Tower security held the doors, but Peter could see a paramedic kneeling over a woman on the floor. People were screaming, chanting. They said Stark had stolen from them, spread drugs through neighborhoods, killed their loved ones.

"What the hell is going on?"

A news van down on the ground was reporting on the scene. Spiderman swung down closer to listen in. The reporter posed in view of the fight to get through the doors. She spoke quickly into her microphone.

"Here at Stark Industries the crowd is growing increasingly violent as Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, refuses to make an appearance. There has been no comment yet from anyone at SI and no information has come to light about the leak. Police are arriving now with a warrant for Mr. Stark's arrest, but will any of these outlandish claims prove true? The public seems to think so."

Peter swung around the block and climbed up to the top of the tower. The window into Tony's office opened at his touch and he slipped inside.

"Tony?" He wasn't in his office. Peter ran to the hidden apartment, but he wasn't there either. He dialed his cell phone and got no answer. The second time he tried the number had been disconnected.

Peter sat down on the bed. He put his head in his hands. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Everything felt so out of control. Tony was missing and in trouble. He didn't know where to find Murdock. He didn't know if Harry was going to be okay. And May, was May even safe?

Then he got a call over the Spiderman line.

"Spiderman?"

Peter lurched to his feet. "Tony? Are you okay? What's going on?"

"Fucking Felicia Hardy," he growled. "But don't worry about that, sweetheart. I wanted you to know that I'm safe. I need to lay low for a while."

"And then what?"

"We don't have any choice but to play it by ear. I have people working to make this all go away, but if it doesn't work out then I guess there will be no more Kingpin of New York."

"What does that mean?"

"It means throwing away everything I've built and finally retiring. Morocco seems nice."

"You can't leave."

"I might not have a choice." He paused. "Would you go with me, Peter?"

"I..." He stopped and thought. He would have to give it all up, too. Being Spiderman, trying to protect New York, trying to save people. Maybe he could be Spiderman in Morocco, but all of the work he had done would go waste when the villains took over. Maybe another hero would come to replace him. Maybe that would be for the best.

"It's okay. You can think about it. May could come too, you know. It might even be nice."

"I'll think about it. Stay safe."

"Don't worry about me, darling."

"Let me know of there's anything I can do."

"You're sweet, but I won't ask you to murder Felicia Hardy for me. Besides, I want the pleasure."

Peter let out a breath. "If I find her, I'm turning her in for art theft."

"Then it's a race to find her first. Good luck, dearest spiderling." Tony hung up the call.

Peter stood staring at his phone, unsure of what to do next. It didn't seem like there was anything he do to help Tony. He spent the rest of the day trying to get caught up on school, but it was almost impossible to concentrate. Then someone rang the doorbell.

Peter was up and running for the door in a flash. "I'll get it, May," he called.

"Thanks, Pete," she said from the couch. She was watching one of the many nearly identical crime dramas. He pulled the door open and was struck speechless.

Tony offered him a charming smile. "Peter, darling. I hope this isn't a bad time."

"I uh..." Peter blinked rapidly, processing what he was seeing. Tony Stark, his boyfriend, the Kingpin of New York, the wealthiest man on the Eastern Seaboard, was standing on the doorstep of the rickety little house his family only owned because his father's father's father bought after immigrating so many decades ago. The house could have fit in one of Tony's bathrooms which had less to do with the size of it and more because it was shit by comparison.

"Sorry, I didn't call. I had to disconnect everything I own including my car's GPS."

"Uh..." Peter continued to stare, but when Tony shifted anxiously he finally snapped out it, remembering the constant danger. "Come in."

He stepped aside and Tony entered. May looked over the back of the couch.

"Mr. Stark? It's good to see you again," she smiled, but her eyes cut to Peter. The 'what the fuck is going on' went unspoken. Especially since they had something of an unspoken agreement that May didn't trust Tony because Ben hadn't liked him and therefore only sort of approved and only then because Peter seemed happy.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Parker. I needed a place to stay the night and Peter said it would be alright if I stayed here."

She looked at Tony then she looked at Peter. "Of course that's fine. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you."

"Come on, Tony." Peter grabbed his hand and dragged the man upstairs but it was only once they were in his bedroom that he realized what a mistake that was. His walls were covered in posters for tech conventions, Stark Industries announcements, fan posters of other super heroes.

Tony smiled, looking around the room. "This is about what I imagined."

"Why are you here?"

"It's this or sleep in my car and I'd rather be here where I know you're safe."

"What's going on?"

Tony sighed. He sat down on Peter's bed and picked up a Rubik's cube from his nightstand. "Showed up at the safe house to find all of the windows broken and the police everywhere. Since there's a warrant and all, I thought I would avoid that mess."

"May is gonna lose her shit when she realizes you're wanted."

Tony shrugged. "She won't turn me in, though. You know she won't."

"No, but she won't be happy."

"Are you happy I'm here?" He looked at him with the saddest puppy dog eyes. Peter hadn't known he could make that face.

"I missed you."

Tony smiled and Peter couldn't help but smile back. He went to the bed and straddled Tony's lap, letting himself get drawn into a heated kiss.

Peter looked into his dark eyes. "How did all this happen?"

"Well you see," Tony began. "I emotionally blackmailed you and then-"

Peter rolled his eyes. "I meant your company being literally on fire."

"Felicia let the world know that maybe I'm involved with tax evasion, and corporate fraud, and also the drug trade. Everyone's a victim," he sighed.

"You do realize that a lot of people are dead because of you."

Tony shrugged. "A lot of people are employed because of me, too."

"That doesn't fix it."

"Some evils concern me more than others." He trailed his fingers down Peter's chest and set his hand down on his thigh. "I have other concerns at the moment." His fingers brushed over Peter's crotch, his cock instantly taking interest.

"Here?"

Tony smirked. "How many times have you laid in this bed jerking off while you looked at posters of me?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Never. I never liked you that much."

Tony grinned. "Not even for an imagined hate fuck?"

"You think too much of yourself." Peter rolled his eyes, giving him a smile in return. Then he kissed those smirking lips. It felt like coming home. They stay tangled up and making out for a while. Then Peter pushed Tony back to lay in the bed. He stood up and went to lock the door.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head and slipped off his jeans. Tony watched him with hunger as he pulled off his underwear. He climbed back on top of him, kissing him, devouring each other's mouth.

Peter reached down and slowly pulled up Tony's shirt. He slipped down the bed and pressed kisses to his skin. He kissed the softening muscle of his abdomen and pressed his lips to the warm metal of the arch reactor then he kissed the hollow of his throat.

"My spider," Tony sighed. His hands rested on Peter's back. Peter sucked a bruise under his jaw. Tony hand slid up his back and grabbed a fist full of his hair. "My spider," he said again.

Peter licked his lips. He looked into those deep, dark, eyes and found hunger. "Show me," he challenged.

Tony stood, holding Peter in his arms. Then he threw him down on the bed. He pulled off his t-shirt and stood in only his jeans, scarred and strong chest so beautifully on display like a king or a god or Peter's own wet dream. Then he was on top of them, the both of them panting heavy. Peter gasped, whining quietly as Tony pressed kisses all over his body. He clamped a hand tight over his mouth to muffle the noises he made as Tony bit and sucked marks into his skin. On his thighs, his belly, his chest.

"Gotta keep quiet," Tony chuckled. "Your poor aunt will have a heart attack."

Peter grabbed him, pulling him up so their eyes were level. "Shut up and fuck me."

Tony grinned. "I think I've been a terrible influence on you." Peter reached up to the drawer beside his bed and offered Tony a bottle of lube. He took it with only the most devilish smile. He pressed a slick finger into Peter's hole, continuing on.

"You've become greedy, demanding," he pushed in a second finger. "Entitled even."

Peter's legs spread, trying to wrap around Tony's waist and pull him in.

"You're spoiled and rotten. Do you know that?" Tony teased.

"Tony," he panted as Tony fingered him. "Put your fucking dick in me," he demanded and the back of Tony's hand cracked against his face. Peter gasped, then moaned as pain exploded through his face.

Tony stared him down. "Is that what you need? Discipline?"

Peter shivered. His face was so dark, so vicious, like Peter was prey he couldn't wait to devour. "Please," he said.

Tony smirked. "If your aunt weren't home I'd put your right over my lap, sweetheart, until you're kicking and screaming. Give your bratty little ass a spanking."

"Please," Peter moaned.

"Another day, little spider. Now keep quiet for me." Tony reached down and unzipped his jeans. He pulled out his cock, pants just below his hips. Peter moaned as he pushed in, both hands covering his mouth as he tried to be quiet. Tony had found a quieter way of making it hurt, using just enough lube to push inside, but not quite enough. It burned as he pushed deep. Peter legs trembled and he clung to Tony's biceps. Peter whimpered quietly.

"That's a good boy," Tony purred. His eyes shined. The smile on his lips was dangerous.

He took his hands away to beg. "Tony, please," and he kissed him. Peter moaned and whined, sounds muffled by Tony's lips, as he fucked him slow and deep. His whole was body like a live wire, burning, vibrating with need. When Tony's hand wrapped around his cock his lips parted spilling soft whines into the air.

"Hush, little spider," Tony warned. "Wouldn't want Aunt May to know what a whore you are, would you? In here spreading your legs in your childhood bed, demanding to get fucked like a spoiled brat."

"Fuck," Peter groaned through clenched teeth.

"You can't help it can you?" He smirked. "You're too addicted to my cock."

"Yes." Tony tried to move faster and Peter grabbed his hip. "Not yet."

Tony kept moving slowly. He pressed kisses to Peter's neck that Peter answered with a string of kisses down his throat.

"Tony," Peter breathed his name against his skin. "I love you."

Tony answered him, lips brushing against his neck. "I love you, Peter."

"I thought you died, today."

"Never, baby. I'm unkillable."

Peter held his face and crushed their lips together, moaning as they kissed. Tony started to move faster, fucking him just as frantically. It burned. It hurt so good that it made his head spin. He felt his cock dripping onto his belly. His thighs squeezed Tony's hips, probably digging in bruises but he didn't have it in him to care. A hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed. Teeth bit into his bottom lip. He tasted blood and it only drove him higher. Another hand clamped around his mouth and he realized he was nearly screaming.

Tony kept fucking him while he came, gripping his hips when he finally quieted down and driving into him until he was spilling his own cum inside him. He laid down next to him, kissing him frantically until the fatigue set in.

Peter felt like crying. It was too much. Everything was too much, too overwhelming. At least Tony was here with him now. He could keep him safe as long as he was here in his arms.

#marvel #starker #spiderverse predators #kingpin!tony #dark!peter

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qwanderer · 3 years

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Loki in the Hall of Mirrors

This story is complicated. Not, like, as a plot, not particularly, but philosophically and thematically. It's got that great play of hero against villain that I love about the Loki story in general and that makes it all so divisive and messy. And I love it even more than I did on first watch.

The first time I watched the desert landing scene, I was like, "Wait? What happened to Allspeak?" because the people who live there don't seem to understand him. But on the second watch, I realized it could be a lack of context, rather than a break in translation. These people probably have an even chance of knowing nothing about Norse myth. Like, what if an alien came up to you and said "I am Boogle of Bofgar, I carry a burden"? You would still have questions like "What the hell is a boogle and why are you carrying your shit here?" So the basic dynamic of Allspeak is probably still functioning, and Loki probably understood their questions, but he was still trying to figure out how to answer when he got distracted by the TVA people.

It could even be an innate psychic ability rather than a magical one, as he seems to understand everyone in the TVA, including the man who can't be fluent in all languages like the field agents because he has never heard of a fish and the seemingly nonverbal robot. (Which of course makes me want Loki talking with Dum-E and the other shop bots! But I digress.)

Okay. I want to start talking about the next-level manipulation shit the TVA are pulling on Loki here. Time, as they say, moves differently in the TVA, and one might even assume that they can avoid having to deal with more variants at once than they can handle. And yet we see them dealing with exactly two other troublemakers during Loki's onboarding.

The first, I'm going to call little echo man.

Little echo man is incredibly annoying to Loki, because he does and says everything Loki might find himself inclined to do and say if he wanted to be difficult. Little echo man does these things in little annoying undignified ways, making them look silly and petulant. Little echo man protests and questions and pushes back, in his business suit and his long dark hair and pale skin, and clearly thinks everyone should treat him as important even though every indication is that he is an annoyance and an afterthought.

Perhaps he's a plant, and perhaps he's just a variant of an annoying but predictable regular they see who they lined up at the same time on purpose. But he is on purpose. Everything he does screams directly at Loki, "Don't do this."

We'll get to the second convenient intersection later.

The most obvious layer of manipulation is simply the beraucracy. They put him up against a series of obstacles which he needs to deal with to get anywhere else, and nothing he does can get him past those obstacles except compliance. All of these obstacles have personality, but they are not personable. They treat Loki like a bag of trash they have been tasked with taking to the curb. Annoying, distasteful, but ultimately routine. His silver tongue isn't going to get him anywhere because these people simply don't care.

I think a lot of these he just goes along with to see where it gets him, since at this point he still believes he has his magic in reserve. But the fact that he steps through the robot fryer even though he thinks he might be a robot without knowing (as others have pointed out, he spent thousands of years as a frost giant without knowing it, and he's recently spent time in the control of the being who shaped Nebula) is a testament to how deep they've already got their hooks in him.

They treat the robot fryer like it's routine, but come the next obstacle, they kill little echo man like it's routine, too. Because he didn't comply.

Loki is slowly being ironed flat to thread into their compliance mill.

And then - I love this, because it reminds me of one of my favorites among the multiplicity of Lokis, GoS!Loki - they put this line in as punctuation between the impersonal, compliance, don't phase of their manipulation and everything that comes after it.

When he's set before the judge, someone actually paying some attention to him, this is his chance to use his silver tongue on someone who will listen. But, although the judge listens, she treats him the same as all the other obstacles have - like listening is a distasteful chore she would like to be done with.

So it seems like the perfect moment for a dramatic escape. Except his magic is gone.

"It's not your story," the judge says. "It never was."

That hammers in all the worst things Loki has ever believed about himself - that he stands in the shadows of others, that he will never have the central place he was raised to desire, that he is, and always will be, a villain to be vanquished rather than a person with choices and agency.

Enter Mobius.

Mobius is a big echo.

He draws all the attention in a room. He is everything that Loki wishes to be - he is powerful, informed, prepared, in control. Capable of charming the judge. And most importantly, he is actively interested in Loki.

At this point in Loki's journey - both in the show and in his life - that has to be irresistible.

So Mobius is in a perfect position to wrap Loki right around his pinky finger.

He listens to Loki without shutting him down, the way all the obstacles have. When Loki tells Mobius he's going to burn down the TVA, Mobius suggests a couple of places he might want to start. One concrete, small, mischievous. One an indication that he's open to Loki doing larger, more significant things here in the future.

He shows Loki his own past and future - but carefully edited, to paint a particular picture.

So many echoes, so many reflections - Loki is in a house of mirrors. Lost, disoriented. Distorted one way, then the other. Magnified and examined.

Loki snarks, and Mobius comments, "Makes you sound smart." Affirms Loki for that little mischievous bit of personality.

Mobius shows Loki some of the most terrible things he's done, and questions them. Pushes Loki away from them. Then changes direction before he can get too heavy-handed, to basically fangirl over the DB Cooper adventure. That's mischief. That's good. I like that.

Punishes him for a small infraction, just to remind him who is in control and that even looking threatening could be seen as a problem.

I think it was at about this point that I got hard reminded of the dynamics of the show White Collar. It's a buddy cop show on a basic level and sometimes the relationship can be very sweet, but sometimes Peter spends one too many times reminding Neal that he can send him back to prison any time he wants and the power dynamic shows its messed up edges.

Mobius is part of the machine, and the machine is doing terrible things to Loki, but I have at least a sliver of hope that the relationship could gain more balance - more genuine balance, not based on the faux freedom that Loki has gained by the end of the episode. There's something to be said for making changes to a system from within that system, but for that to be meaningful change, Mobius would have to change as a person.

Anyway, this current nastily powerful Mobius pushes Loki as hard as he can, and then is conveniently interrupted by the actions of another variant, leaving Loki alone with his remote.

It could easily have been on purpose. The only thing Loki learns by escaping that room is that the TVA is more powerful than any force in the universe, in his experience.

Let's talk about the other Loki variant for a minute. It took me until the second viewing to realize the symbolism of leaving a small child the only survivor in a place of worship, then giving her something to turn her blue.

Odin said he found Loki in a temple, in the aftermath of a battle.

It's actually frighteningly easy to imagine how a distraught Loki could get to a place where he feels the need to genuinely burn down the TVA, and kill every agent in it. Because the TVA put certain clips in his little future show, focusing on the death of his mother, the way his own actions affected it, and the futility and brutality of his own death at the hands of Thanos.

They don't show him the destruction of Asgard, his own role in helping save the evacuees, and the way Thanos decimated the population of that transport before it could even reach Earth. They don't show him the devastation of his home or his capacity to do good.

A Loki who knows that the power of the TVA exists and that he has the capacity to be Asgard's heroic savior would do anything to get that power and save his people.

But we haven't met that Loki yet. I'm sure we will, and it's going to be exhilarating.

This Loki is being taught the importance of control over little things, and so when he gets his collar off and onto that guard, he toys with her, just to see that he can. They have been toying with him and it's oh so satisfying to turn the tables. But it's still compliance in its own way, the petty little mischief that Mobius has been steering him towards.

Loki has been given just enough freedom, just enough choices, that it seems like his own choice to watch the rest of the slide show and come to the obvious conclusion - there's no "out" to go to. His life has gone on without him, and ended. And there's really no point in his trying to fix it. No putting things back the way they were.

So he admits to Mobius - the person who has listened hardest, probably, besides his mother - he admits that he is small and scared and lashing out. That he doesn't know what to do.

Of course, this is when Mobius introduces the task the TVA has for Loki - to take down his other self.

Oh, I can't wait for the next episode! I want to know where this is going.

(I've popped in some panels from Loki: Agent of Asgard because it's my favorite and the show is giving me feelings about it.)

#the loki show #the loki series #agent mobius #loki #loki meta #spoilers #loki spoilers #loki show spoilers #aoa #gos!loki #marvel

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pearl-blue-musings · 3 years

Text

Unforgettable pt. 2

Hi again!

I’ll admit up front I’m not too happy with this chapter but I wanted to get this out!

Warnings: none! just some sass but what else is new?

Pairing: Dabi/Touya x f!reader x Hawks

Part one Part 3

Masterlist is here

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

Time passed by too slowly for the rest of their hero commission academy days. Keigo had become the full-fledged hero Hawks, while you had your plans kept being altered and halted. After your stint at the hospital, the commission was worried about using you knowing the danger of your quirks limit. However, you still wanted to help out in anyway you could; after all this was all you knew.

So you find yourself working at the hero commission headquarters as a personal assistant for the higher ups. Your quirk proved useful around the building so they kept you around, keeping schedules tight, missions in order, and anything else that needed to be done, including some maintenance.

They never let you near their archives or library.

For fear of what could happen, they forbade you from going in there on your own. Unless you were otherwise notified, those two places were off limits. You understood, of course but it still hurt that you weren’t allowed in those places considering all you’ve done for them.

Now into your 20’s, you had the ability to live on your own. Unfortunately, it was all under the watchful eye of the commission. They picked your apartment building, which floor to be on for easy access if heroes ever need a safe haven, almost down to your furniture. You were grateful but very annoyed.

At least it was easy for Hawks to come and go as he pleased. With it being near the headquarters and his alliance to the commission, Hawks frequented you quite a bit. If the press and social media were allowed in your life, they’d be filled with rumors about the two of you potentially dating. However, that was another aspect of life your quirk and hero commission took away from you.

As much as you were allowed to look at meetings, update their website, man some of the phone calls, the world outside of that was off limits. They were terrified of losing such a valuable asset as yourself so they took every precaution to shelter you. Or so you had been told.

On this particular afternoon, you were heading out of the building when you got a text on your phone asking you to go to the roof. A smirk graced your face as you closed all your files in your desk as you prepared to make a pit stop on your way home. Once on the roof, you’re greeted with the bright and warm afternoon sun. Your eyes squint adjusting to the scene before you, the view of the city is gorgeous up here and he knows that.

“Hey pretty bird.”

At the sound of his voice, you turn and see your long time friend. You run to him and tightly embrace him, chuckling into his chest. He falls back at the sudden move and hugs you back, but lifts up slightly off the rooftop to twirl you in the air.

“Keigo! I hate it when you do that.” You pout at him, causing the blond to laugh lightly.

“Sorry Kid, I couldn’t help myself. How are you today,” he asks, cautiously placing you back on even footing.

“Oh I’m good,” you tease, “but not as good as you Mr. Number Two hero! I’m sad I just got the news but… you know…”

His golden eyes soften at that. As much as he hates to keep you in the dark of most life, he knows it’s for the best. He’s still deeply terrified of losing you and the news he’s kept in his back pocket that he’s about to share are a dead weight.

Hawks sighs deeply, “I know dove, I wish there was more I could do. But, that’s not why I brought you up here.” You give him a questioning look as the two of you sit on the edge, just enjoying each others presence. “Do you remember that meeting I had a couple weeks ago?”

Your face scrunches as you go through each memory of the last two weeks at the office. Hawks can’t help but steal a glance at you like this. He’s always loved your intense thinking face, how each crease, each little wrinkle he sees makes his heart soar. But he quickly drowns those bubbling feelings once your eyes meet.

“Ah yes! I handed you files outside of the main meeting room with all of the higher ups. I couldn’t go into detail but it involved the League of Villains and a dangerous mission for a particular candidate which I can assume is you?”

“Sheesh kid, even though I’ve known you for years I can’t get over how detailed you always are. But yeah that one…” he trails off looking at the sky in front of him.

“So? What do you need to tell me?”

He can’t look at you as he tells you his new and elongated mission. “I’m going undercover to infiltrate the League.” He pauses when he feels your body flinch against his. Fuck, he knew this would suck. “The commission didn’t want me to tell you, but I couldn’t do that to you.”

You lift off of him and your jaw drops. “Gasp, the Takami Keigo ignoring orders from the hero commission?! What has the world turned into?”

Hawks deadpans you as small laughs erupt from your belly. He does his best to keep a serious expression but he cracks and always will crack at your reactions. “Yes,” regaining his composure, “I went against one order, they’ll drop me for sure.” Keigo waits for the two of you to calm down before proceeding. “But I mean it, I couldn’t keep you out of the loop of my life like that.”

“How long?”

“A few months minimum. I’m actually already in talks with someone right now in the league. But kid, I wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to visit you as much. I’ll be pulled between them and the hero commission and my agency.” The tenor in his voice trails off as he looks onto your form. “Aw c’mon baby bird, don’t give me that.”

You stand up and walk closer to the roof’s center. “I know this mission was supposed to be for me.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. You knew, you knew they were preparing you for a mission just like this to test you but somehow it fell through.

“Things have changed, the league has grown more powerful. The hero commission and heroes in general are in the spotlight now more than ever. You know that they-“

You stop and turn to face him, “I’m not some fragile piece of glass that has to be kept away! I’m so tired of this!” Tears threatened to fall but you squeezed your eyes so tight to prevent that from happening. “I’m so, so tired of being stuck with them and I know you are too.”

You feel Hawks’ being before feeling his wings encircle you. The smell of his cologne mixes with his musk and sweat that reminds you of home. Keigo has always been your sense of home and to lose that is too much. “One day. But we owe them so much. You know that more than I do (Y/n).”

Your thumb brushes the few tears that fell and you turn to face the blond man. His eyes hold yours, almost speaking to you silently as your heartbeat slows. A chuckle leaves your lips as you slump your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this so sad. You wanted to do something right?”

Shocked at your ability to completely turn the mood around, he resists the urge to wipe your trailing tears and smirks at you. “Ah yeah, in like two hours I’m meeting with Endeavor for a meal. I was hoping we could do one last fly around the city for old times sake,” he opens his arms for you.

You try, and fail, to hide the feeling of your face warming up. “I’d love nothing more.”

Hawks knows all too well that this isn’t the life you want or the one you deserve. Whenever he’s had a meeting with the commission he can’t help but frown at your sight behind your back. You can’t know that he knows you feel trapped, a mutual feeling shared. But he vowed to always be there for you and make you happy. He wants to take you out on the town at least and learn more about the world around you.

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

Before he meets with his idol, he drops the two of you off a means away from his meeting place. You glance at him, confusion etched onto your features. “I don’t understand,” you start, “normally you take me back to my balcony why are we nowhere close to that?”

Keigo exhales lightly, “look Kid, you have a map app on your phone right? Use that to get home.”

He’s met with confused silence once he meets your gaze. “Do I have to spell it out for you? Spread your wings, go find a new place to eat on your way back. Find a nice park to sit in for a little while…”

“Go experience some freedom for me okay? I mean it, (Y/n).”

You’re at a loss for words, flabbergasted at what Hawks just told you. Be free? Go home without his help? “Are you trying to get the hero commission to kill you?!”

“Heh, only if you tell them. Now what do you observe, hm?”

You start to look around, really taking your time to take in your surroundings. “Well, we’re in an alley where you could kill me.”

“Words can hurt.”

“And judging by the lack of super tall buildings and wandering bystanders, we’re somewhere near the housing unit of the city correct?” He nods at your questioning as he waits for you to understand the implications of what he’s done. He asked to meet you on the roof, took you on a fly around the city, dropped you near the housing area… “You’re really the best aren’t you?” You hug him tightly and quickly, eager to just wander around for once.

“You can always come back to this spot if you feel trapped. I’ve been scoping this area out for awhile now. Not a lot of press or people; it’s perfect. I know there’s a park and some open spaces and I wanna tell you to be careful but I know you won’t listen. But, from here to your apartment is about a 20 minute walk and yes it has access to the buildings secret entrance.”

“Keigo I could kiss you this is the best gift ever.”

“Whoa dove, save that for the apartment.”

He smirks at you and you just roll your eyes. “You’re incorrigible. But I really appreciate this. You have no idea how much I love this Kei.”

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

Hawks flies away as he makes sure your new journey of newfound freedom begins. He checks the time on his phone and double checks the information he had been told and heads to meet Endeavor. Coming out of the shadows to avoid being seen is Hawks’ inside accomplice for what’s about to go down in an hour.

Twinkling sapphire eyes briefly follow the winged man take flight, but are swiftly moving from the man in the air to the woman walking far away from him. The figure emerges, donned in his notable long black jacket but face covered in a mask to somewhat hide his identity. His eyes widen in recognition and a whisper leaves his lips before he prepares the Nomu.

“(Y/n), my little mouse.”

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

taglist! @kiribaku-queen @shinsouskitten @cupcake-rogue @abonshit @luluwiie

#my writing #i did the thing #unforgettable #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #dabi x reader x hawks

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greytoiletpaper · 3 years

Text

Out on Allen Street, it’s 7 in the Morning

Set in the same-ish street-siblings universe as First Contact by @cryptids-and-muses and @a-sketchy-character @streetsiblings (they’re still awesome). Now, the pieces start falling into place or smth lmao :))

Drizzle | Deluge | AO3

Chapter 3: Squall

Did they get rid of her?

He dreads to think of it, but there’s nothing else he seems to be able to pick out from what information he gathers. Three years after he died, Cass (who hated killing, would never do it even for the worst of the worst) had nearly murdered the Joker. She almost finished the job until Batman saved the madman and subdued her. After that,

Nothing.

Not a single report on Batgirl. Nor a photo of Cassandra Todd. Only two traces he could find. One a significantly sullen Wonder Woman (he and Cass had liked her, and she, them). The other an interview of Bruce, repeating that she’d gone to ‘travel the world’.

Jason knows a lie when he hears one.

“It’s – It’s like she just disappeared,” He’s gripping his head, rocking back and forth while Rose smooths out his hair. “He cut her out of the family and then what?”

He remembers a promise, a vow Bruce had made with him. It had meant the world to Jason.

Bruce had broken that vow. Torn it apart and stomped all over it.

Rose watches him as he breaks down with no judgement in her gaze, just holds him close as his world crumbles around him again.

There’s a child in Nandra Parbat, and Jason has to train him.

“This is my son, Damian,” Talia had said to him, showing him some new kid as if he hadn’t just killed three assassins in the space of a minute. He would have said as much if she didn’t immediately order him to be the kid’s new teacher.

Looking at him now, all Jason can see is a small girl with a crooked smile mouthing his name. He blinks, and he’s met with a scowl and sapphire eyes (eyes just like Br-).

“Mother has requested you to be my instructor,” The kid repeats and lord, his voice is nasal. Jason chooses to stare at the kid, who fidgets. If he looks close enough, he could swear Damian’s scowl looks almost precisely like-.

“Is he mute, Mother? I do not see how an invalid could assist me,” He can tell by the way Rose’s head shoots up and glares at Damian whose side she would choose if this escalates. A flare of anger rises in Jason’s chest; his eyes start to flash a sharp emerald. Still, he pushes it down and diverts it to strengthening his stare, dominating the room.

He can’t read people the same way Cass can, but Jason could swear that the kid’s composure cracks at his uncertainty.

“Wanna repeat that for me?” Jason’s voice is low and even. He can tell the kid recognises the threat in his tone. To his credit, Damian hesitates before he honest to god tts, like every single other haughty, uptight rich boy.

“Regardless, habibi, you will treat your new instructors with respect,” Talia speaks, gesturing to him and Rose. “The quality of your instructors was incredibly subpar, and you have them to blame for killing the previous masters beforehand.”

“I do not think that a lowly thug and his harlot-,” Jason’s arm shoots out in an instant, clasping his hand over Damian’s mouth and clenching. Indignant fury flares in the boy’s eyes as Damian tries to slap Jason away. It does nothing, unsurprisingly.

“So long as you are under my tutelage, you will never speak that way to any woman. That is no way to speak to anyone, regardless of what they do for a living,” Somehow, the kid actually listens, the flinty look in his eye lessening somewhat. “I bet your own mother had to pull a fuck ton of strings just to make sure this meeting even happened in the first place.”

Jason glances up to Talia, expecting a reprimand. What surprises him is how genuine the approval she emits is. It hits him that he has literally confirmed to training Damian. He coughs.

“You should know,” Talia pipes up. “His full name is Damian Wayne-Al Ghul.”

Jason stares at the ceiling and curses the rain as it tap-dances with the universe, mocking him.

“All right, then, I’ll go to hell.”

Cassandra shakes herself from the nerves and rings the doorbell. The last time she had been here, she had kissed Alfred on the cheek and let him drive her all the way to the airport. That was only two months ago. Two months away from Gotham, away from Batgirl, away from-.

Bruce. He’s standing in the foyer, his gaze cold, but his body… his body seems unsure. She doesn’t know what to make of it. She half expects him to turn her away, but he moves to the side. He opens his mouth.

“Cassandra!” Steph darts from behind Bruce’s body, all flailing limbs and mismatched socks. “You’re here!”

“Yes.”

The girl grins, periwinkle eyes dazzling (They’re from the same cloth, just not the proper stitching) as she drags Cassandra away.

“So… how’s life in Hong Kong?”

“Peachy,” Cass answers honestly.

“Think of any names for your new identity?” Steph gesticulates to nothing, but her body language is focused on questions. So, she doesn’t give the girl any. They walk a little more until Steph decides to fill in the silence again.

“Tim’s dad found out about the vigilante business,” Cass nods as Steph talks. “Wants him to quit being Robin and Bruce doesn’t seem to know what to do about it.”

“His problem.”

“Well, duh. It’s just that….” Steph rubs her arm shyly, the same way she always does when she’s afraid of what she will say next. “When I was growing up, with my villain dad and addict Mom, I always imagined that Batman and Robin would save me. I’m here now, and….”

“You want to be Robin.” Cassandra deadpans, even as Steph whirls to gape at her. Really, it’s not like she wasn’t obvious. “Why not go for it?”

Silence for a moment. “Because I’m afraid.”

Cassandra looks at the blonde sharply. Stephanie Brown? Intimidated-by-Batman-and-joined-vigilantism-anyway Stephanie Brown was afraid? She doesn’t know what to think. That is until the dots connect in her head.

“You’re afraid that you won’t be able to help as much as you want to,” Steph scuffs the carpet glumly.

“With Mr. Anal-retentiveness-to-the-9’s? Yeah, that’d probably happen,” Steph sound so defeated and desperate that Cass curses because apparently, fate chose now to be when Steph is truly like Jason.

“Then don’t wear it,” Steph’s scuffing gets a little stronger. “I, for one, think you’d be a really good Batgirl.”

Steph makes an incredible impression as a fish and stares at Cass, barely wheezing as she gawks. “But Bruce -.”

“Bruce doesn’t have autonomy over Batgirl,” Cass smiles sweetly, echoing Barbara. “It’s your uniform now, and no one can take that from you but yourself.”

Her friend squeals loudly and squeezes Cass, gushing her gratitude over and over. Cass hugs her back, pretending it’s Jay she’s holding in her arms, giving the assurance of family she failed to keep.

He’s only trained with Damian for a few months, yet he’s seen more than he really should from the boy. His younger brother (the kid’s only a child, it doesn’t matter what Jason’s previous misgivings are) has been raised in the League of Assassins since birth. He can already use a sword with deadly efficiency at eleven years old. His attitude's as ruthless and condescending as every other assassin in the compound.

However, what is an exploitable weakness for Damian is the fact he’s only just started puberty. Most easily demonstrated when Rose makes a suggestive pose before tackling the boy and pinning him in place. Jason whistles because he’s fond of her, an asshole like that. Rose flips the bird at Jason and sticks out her tongue, now lounging casually on Damian’s squirming body.

It’s cute, the scene, but Jason knows how wrong it is. As long as Damian is with the League of Assassins, he won’t live normally. To find his own love, his own family. Even as the child wrestles with Rose and yells at him to help, it won’t ever be enough.

He’s not projecting.

He’s not.

He’s going to concoct a plan.

Ravi, Damian’s caretaker, has that air about him that Jason has only ever seen come from Alfred. So, he guesses trusting Ravi with this is more than okay. The man may be blind, but with him, they manage to smuggle Damian through the channels of the League, avoiding everyone who could threaten their goal.

“If I may ask, Mister Todd,” Ravi says as they reach the last legs. Jason nods. “Why are you doing this? To what gain is rescuing this child for you?”

“I don’t do this because I want to gain something,” Jason replies immediately. “No child deserves to grow up in this place. He deserves to have as good a childhood as he can get.”

Ravi stares patiently, hearing what’s unsaid.

“Sound reasoning,” Talia’s voice echoes around them. Everyone tenses. The woman steps out from behind the pillar ahead of them, alone. “And where, may a mother ask, are you taking my son?”

The woman’s voice lacks her usual veneer, sounding so genuinely earnest that he can’t help but blurt out: “Gotham.”

“Gotham,” Talia repeats, her forehead pinched. “With him?” With Batman? Jason bristles. “Might I remind you; he left your death unavenged and replaced you in mere months.”

“Fuck that,” Jason snarls. Ever since he came out of the Pit, madness clings to the edges of his mind whenever he thinks of how Bruce replaced him. This time, it only flickers. “What I want doesn’t matter when Damian needs his father figure. I’m – I’m not stopping him from having that.”

“So, you no longer wish to kill him,” Talia states. He sighs.

“I guess not,” Jason frowns, considering her presence. “Want to take him to Bruce?”

If Talia is surprised, she doesn’t show it, only beckoning for Damian to follow her. As the kid moves, Jason realises this might be the last time he’ll see Damian on the same side of the fence. He grabs the kid’s shoulder, who oddly doesn’t resist.

“Look, Damian,” Jason starts as his younger brother stares up at him. “Doing right is right, and wrong is wrong. A body ain’t got no business doing wrong when he ain’t ignorant and knows better.

“Living with your father, it’s rules like that he follows like gospel. He’ll love you; I know he will, but with him it’s always on the condition that you adhere to his principles. Can you promise something for me?”

Damian nods, soaking every word in.

“I need you to keep an open mind with what he says, but I don’t want you to follow them like gospel the way he does. You’re more than his soldier, you’re my brother, you’re his son.”

The kid nods again, shifting on his feet.

“And – And look after yourself, okay? And -,” The words that come out of his mouth feel like hot coals, but he has to say them. “And if somehow Cass is there, can you look after her too? For me?”

“Of course,” Damian answers softly before throwing his arms around Jason’s waist. “I will find your ukht, ahki, and make sure she is well cared for.”

Jason smiles. It's a broken, weary-looking thing.

“And Todd?” Jason raises his eyebrows. “You should confess to Wilson about your ridiculous affection. It is sickening to watch you two dancing around one another every lesson.”

Jason can’t help it; he laughs and lets his little brother go, his tears like raindrops.

Cass leaves the fresh hydrangeas on the headstone. It stares back at her, its date (four years) seeming to mock her from beyond the grave. Literally, Jay says in her head, which has her biting back the laugh that builds in her throat.

Bruce’s son had come in a few days ago, obviously an assassin child, yet he’s still… subdued, somehow. She knows the boy is there, at her brother’s grave, and that he follows her all the way to the manor. Even then, Cassandra lets it go. He probably took all his cues from Bruce anyway.

It’s when she’s sitting at the new memorial for Jason, a small statue of an apple with a plaque underneath, that Damian approaches her.

“Cain.”

“It’s Todd.”

Something crosses the boy’s face. She can’t tell what it is.

“Todd,” Damian says, his eyebrows pinching like a mini Bruce. “What is this?”

“It’s Jason’s memorial,” Cassandra traces the words on the plaque, a quote, one whose meaning she had struggled with a lifetime ago. She gestures to the book in her hands. “I read to it, every time I’m here.”

Damian looks like he’s about to say something about that, but he withholds it. Instead, he sits down with her, his head upturned, not unlike a bird.

“What was he like?” The boy asks, the words seeming to grit out his teeth.

“He was amazing, and we loved him so much,” Dick speaks up, out of nowhere, cutting Cass off before she can even begin. “I had a few issues with him, but I promise that I’ll be as good a brother to you as he was to us.”

Cassandra snorts, and Dick’s smile falls off his face.

“Cassandra, come on, I was just-.”

“You weren’t even a good brother to me or – or him.” She says quietly, because why is he even speaking now? “Why are you trying now? Why not before?”

“Like I said, I had a lot of issues with -.”

“I don’t care, Dickface.” Does it hurt to say Jason’s old nickname for the boy? Yes. Does she draw satisfaction at how much he flinches? Also, yes.

Barbara chooses then to speak up.

“I don’t think that’s fair for you to say, Cass.”

She freezes. The fact that even Damian, who hardly knows her, does the same with the others means they know how huge an error they’ve made.

“Don’t call me that,” Cassandra snaps, voice desolate and lethal, thoughts squalling and refusing to calm down even as she buries her head in the book in her hands.

Barbara sighs and calls Dick away to discuss the mysterious hacker that’s been pulling information from them. Damian, seeming to recognise her desire to be alone, follows him. Good. Cassandra’s mind falls in and out of a lull as her eyes try to refocus. So, she caresses the edge of the apple reverently. In its reflection, tears run down her cheeks. She can’t feel them.

“The information breaches just keep searching for Batgirl,” Barbara says, snapping Cassandra from her stupor. She pulls up a list; every entry confirms Barbara’s statements. Every entry, that is, except for one that catches her eye. The text flashes brightly, making her head spin, and she can’t look away because printed in the bright neon text is-.

There’s a memory, one she’s locked in the far recesses of her mind, where things like the Joker and David and all her other demons live. She remembers Faizul asking who her mother is.

David smirks, a savage thing he does whenever he’s about to order her to do something (murder, as it turned out, then) and says:

Sandra Wu-San | Lady Shiva

The words blare in her mind, bouncing round and round and blocking out all sounds in the cave. It certainly explains a lot; only Shiva can read the body like a novel. Plus, Cassandra isn’t sure that assassin skills are genetic but having two master assassins as biological parents should factor somewhere. It also opens a new avenue of thought. Why? Why did she give her up and never look back? Why did she leave her with her monster of a father? Cassandra craves needs answers, and she needs them now.

Staring up at the name printed on the screen, Jason once asked himself the same questions.

While the others discuss what to do, Cassandra has already listed Shiva’s last known locations and activities. They don’t notice she’s going to leave until she revs the engine of her bike. She sees them open their mouths, but over the sound of the motor, their voices fail to reach her.

All except, somehow, for Alfred and if there is anyone in this family Cass will listen to; it’s the one Jay loved the most.

“If you do pursue her, Miss Cassandra,” The butler has never been unkind to her, yet she can’t help but feel like he’s trying to keep her in place. “I am not sure if you will find what you are looking for.”

She leaves anyway, soaring underneath the tresses of Gotham as they settle around her, the mist obscuring everything but her path forward.

“Damian probably landed in Gotham last week,” Rose says casually. Too casually, she realises. Jace side-eyes her and snorts in response. Damn him and his ability to pick apart what she’s asking. Four years constantly in one another’s presence would do that to people with his life experience. Yet, as much as Jason can read her, she can’t say she can do the same for him.

Something about him seems fragile, like plaster covering a beautiful and distracting collage. Rose wants to dig past that plaster, through the collage and see the mind that is Jason Todd.

She has seen him at his highest and lowest points and always makes sure to stay by his side, as she does now. He’s her best friend; he might not know it, but he’s kept her sane (reassurances her father will not find her come to mind) just as much as she’s done for him.

“What do you think of the new Batgirl?” This time, she means to be conversational. When they stumbled across the profile of Cass’ successor, Jace had shaken his head and laid out half-heartedly into a punching bag.

“I don’t hate her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” That response was… not unexpected. But, when she raises her hickory eyes, Jason has his head raised to the sky. “I looked into her, and – and she’s like us.”

Oh.

“Girl’s from the Narrows. Didn’t live on the streets, but from her background, her home life definitely wasn’t that great growing up either.”

His hand is trembling, so Rose grabs it and tries to keep him steady with all the power in her.

“She’s going to do Batgirl proud,” Jason says shakily. “I think you’d agree.”

They stand there, leaning on each other, tranquillity settling around them as Jace lets his tears flow. It occurs to Rose that she never let his hand go. She doesn’t plan to. The feeling makes her feel warm inside, and as much as she wants to go further, she also doesn’t want to push her best friend away.

In the distance, the outline of a jet approaches the runway they’re on. It is time.

“You ready?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I said yes.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey,” Rose looks up at him, waiting for him to continue. “If anything goes wrong, I want you to stay out of sight of the others and get away from Gotham.”

Rose growls. “No way, there is no fucking way I’d leave you alone with them.” She steps closer, jabbing her finger on his chest. “I didn’t train with you for the past four years for it all to be thrown away just because Batman is an asshole. My dad’s just as bad, remember?

“You’re stuck with me no matter what Jace. Deal with it.”

He gives her a wry smirk that has her heart fluttering as much as her returning grin is sharp. Even as the plane touches down, she realises that he hasn't let her hand go, and neither has she.

In the next week, Red Hood and Ravager will carve their way through the deeper bowels of Gotham’s stomach, a bag of heads linking their iron fists.

For now, Rose breathes in the moist air as a drizzle begins.

Mad Dog, Cassandra muses, is a morbid reminder of what she might have become if she stayed with David. He doesn’t have her abilities, but he has more physical strength in spades; his movements are so strange, so unpredictable, that it’s not like it matters.

A deft swipe narrowly misses her throat, and Cassandra cuffs the man in the jaw with her knee, knocking him back.

She had definitely found Shiva. Tracked her all the way to some subset of the League of Assassins. The woman had only gazed coolly at her and set Mad Dog on her.

True to his name, the assassin growls and leaps at her, fury behind each of his strikes. Cassandra dodges one of these, the fist cratering the cement wall, and gets socked in the chest for her trouble. The force of the impact sends her flying metres away.

Getting up from the blow is a chore, and she can feel the agony her body is in, feels the blood run down her mouth as she rises. Her fist is shaking; her stance is uneven. Mad Dog notices, and he grins like David, drawing a jagged sword from his sheath and charges.

Cassandra darts past the assassin. She knows she can win this. Even though his movements are swift and deadly, she manages to outpace him. His sword strikes aim to draw blood as he swipes at her, but she’s still managed to weave her way around them, causing sparks to fly into the air. When he tries to hit her, she still uses his momentum against him and knocks him down.

Yet, Cassandra can feel herself getting slower now; her arms are still shaking. She dodges another strike, but it’s a feint, and Mad Dog grabs her by the hair and slams her onto the ground. Hazily, she watches his wicked grin widen as the assassin raises his arms and prepares his blade.

As Mad Dog is about to drive it into Cass’ chest, she thinks (This is it. It’s all over. It is time.) of a boy in an alleyway, an apple in his hand and a smile on his lips.

She closes her eyes and listens to the sprinkling outside.

“Do you think we were unfair to them?” Dick seems to ask to open air, but Bruce knows when his sons want a genuine response. “Like, that we didn’t give them enough credit for what they could do. And because of that, they’ve never had anyone but each other?”

Dick slumps. It looks so wrong on him that Bruce wraps his arms around him, especially careful (As a real father would. An insidious voice in his brain sneers). “Do you think, that if maybe we treated them so much better...” His boy is crying now, usually joyous lapis eyes cold and red-rimmed. “That they’d still be here?”

Bruce only grunts because not one of his answers is what Dick wants to hear.

On a slab of stone, the petals on the hydrangeas wilt, droplets dappling their edges.

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hirakdesherrani · 4 years

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Scattered thoughts on Bulbbul

(spoilers ahead)

Finally watched Bulbbul yesterday night, with my bff. We thought we needed each other’s support because we are phattus of the highest order, but there wasn’t much horror in it (as we found out later).

Which brings me to the first thing, the trailer. Whoever edited the trailer did a splendid job, because it gave very little clue what the movie was about. I thought it was something like Stree, using horror to give a social message, just instead of comedy in that movie, this was more drama?

The movie, however, had very little horror/thrill. While the movie is one of Netflix’s better online products, it isn’t...great. Like it’s very on the surface. There are not many layers to the characters, neither is there a lot of subtext. Still, the pace is good, and the storytelling engaging. Hindi cinema, theatre or OTT, are very new in this genre, so I don’t want to be too severe here.

Things that I liked:

Tripti Dimri....omg what a revelation. Laila Majnu didn’t let us on how versatile this girl is. In the first few frames, me and my friend were commenting that why is she only sitting around, posing like a mermaid? But then with the flashbacks, her raw performance really took hold. The scene where they are sitting at a picnic and Mahendra pulls at her hair, the way she said, “Dada, na” slightly scared, but also not wanting to hurt his feelings (btw I’m very anti-Mahendra in this post), that was so well done. From there on, she owns every scene, that you can’t look anywhere else. Whether it’s the mix of annoyance and impatience when she wants to meet Satya but Binodini is taunting her, or whether it’s the scene where Indranil informs her and Satya that he’s sending the latter to London, she was so natural. Special mention to the two scenes of violence esp. the sexual assault one, because it takes a lot of guts to portray the victim in such scenes, and the scene was so difficult to watch, that we forwarded after a few seconds of it.

That reminds me, from the moment the two brothers Indranil and Mahendra enter the frame, I knew what was going to happen, and which brother was going to perpetrate which abuse. The writing was on the nose, so to speak, with these two particular characters. Even so, Rahul Bose did the best that he could with them, but we have come to expect perfect performances when it comes to him, so not surprised here.

The third brother, Satya, was what I would say the most layered character in this movie, surprisingly. Initially, I didn’t get why did they cast Avinash Tiwary for this role, because it wasn’t either a substantial role, or even a positive or negative or supportive role. I even thought the makers tried to cash on the Laila Majnu hangover, and hyped Bulbbul/Satya love story in the trailer. Unlike Bulbbul who loved Satya, I don’t think Satya loved Bulbbul, at least not like she did. Sure, he thought of her as his best friend, confidante, and all, but he didn’t care for her like that. It was evident when he was enamored by the idea of going to London, and didn’t notice Bulbbul’s voice breaking when Indranil informed them of the news.

Halfway done with the film, I had made up my mind that Avinash is good with unrestrained roles like Qais, where he can completely let go, but not in subtle roles requiring controlled performances. What changed my mind was my growing dislike for Satya as the movie kept progressing. I kept thinking why does he annoy me so much, like he’s only there in a few scenes, and yet I want to snap at him? That’s when I realized how well the writers have written Satya, captured his mentality and vision, and without any overt or dramatic scenes, Avinash essayed the writer’s message.

Satya is proxy for the society in this film. He hears no evil, he sees no evil, just like our society which likes to pretend that there is nothing wrong going on behind closed doors. Satya is representative of those men, who argue whenever a woman raises her voice, that ‘not all men’ (ala that scene where Bullbul alludes to Master Dinkar beating his wife, while Satya defends the man by suggesting that his wife may have actually fallen down the stairs). In the scene where he meets Bulbbul after five years, he questions her what did she do that girl he knew five years ago, indirectly putting the blame on Bullbul for losing her childlike innocence, instead of asking her what happened to her that she became like this. Satya is classic ‘not all men’, victim-blaming abuse apologist in the film. Evil men are not just men like Indranil, who beat up their wives, or sexual assaulters like Mahendra, evil men are also those who stand by and watch, and pretend that nothing is going on, who put the onus on the woman for the upkeep of tradition, who question a woman’s morality and who act as the judge, jury and executioner of a woman’s character. Bulbbul’s dialogue is telling, “Tum sab ek jaise ho” Satya is no different from his brothers, he may not have committed and violence, but he was just as much a villain as the rest of them for willfully ignoring the evidence of his eyes. I haven’t made up my mind whether he was actually jealous of Dr. Sudip or not, or he just hated the man for being too bold to be friendly with the ‘women of his family’.

Which brings me to Dr. Sudip, the only likable man in this film. Even though at some level it is a little sad to see Parambrata Chatterjee slotted into these male guide/support to the female protagonist kind of roles (his role in Kahaani was something similar), I really do like watching him in these roles, playing them as he does with a lot of charm, subtlety, and empathy. The makers perhaps wanted to signify that there are a few men who are not completely evil, and not afraid or feel threatened in the presence of a assertive, and this case, avenging female. It’s his relationship with Bulbbul which I felt was the real love story of the film, though of course, Bulbbul didn’t harbor the same feelings for him, though she did care for him immensely.

The other female role was that of Binodini. I know I should be feeling sympathy for her, at some level, she was also taught to keep quiet and bear all injustice, but I’m so tired of females taking out their bitterness on other females, making the lives of other women miserable, instead of directing them, rightfully, at the men in their lives and the dictates of the society. Binodini, like Satya, was a proxy for the women in the society who instead of being supportive of other women do the opposite, and help perpetuate patriarchy by teaching their fellow women to keep quiet.

Another minor thing, like I mentioned before, from the first scene it’s evident what Mahendra’s going to do. And I wish to God that we stop with mentally ill men assaulting women. No, their mental condition does not excuse rape. Mental illness can provoke violence in a person, yes, killing accidentally or in a fit of rage, beating, pulling clothes, etc, but not rape. Rape is a specific offense that requires knowledge and intent, unless a mentally ill person has learnt it from somewhere, and even then, the fact that they drew pleasure from that violence shows that they have a sadistic instinct. Which is why I was glad when Mahendra was punished for his crime. (this is why I didn’t watch Ranjha Ranjha Kardi despite liking Iqra, because I knew they were going to excuse marital rape using mental illness).

As such, there isn’t much of a plot per se in Bulbbul, it’s more of a commentary of our society, even though it’s set a century back, the issue of it’s choice being violence against women. Despite that, it’s an engaging enough film. It get’s through the message that the real horrors are not ghosts or witches, but what happens daily in our society. The length of the film is a huge plus, so I would suggest watching this film if you’ve some free time in the weekend.

Also, don’t get fooled like me and my friend, it’s not horror genre.

#bulbbul #netflix #tripti dimri #avinash tiwary #parambrata chattopadhyay #rahul bose #paoli dam #movies #my stuff

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princeescaluswords · 3 years

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Grooming and Seduction

I’m still not over it from stumbling across a story where Sheriff Stilinski accuses Deaton of ‘grooming’ Scott and decides to force Scott to ‘work’ for Derek Hale, who flashes his fangs and red eyes at Scott immediately afterward to let the Latino know his place.

There was only one incident of ‘grooming’ in Teen Wolf:

Now quibblers could say that this was just sexual assault, and we could argue about it, but the end result was the same -- Derek used seduction on a vulnerable teenager in order to get her to agree to do what he wants. And somehow, we’re supposed to make excuses for his behavior on this. He was stressed. He was fighting a war. He was uncomfortable with the alpha powers.

I would entirely be willing to listen to reasons why I should give Derek Hale the benefit of the doubt over this if I haven’t overwhelmed by ten thousand fictions where Scott is absolutely in the wrong for grabbing Derek by the neck and making him bite Gerard, even if it was the only way to save Allison and Derek by breaking Gerard’s control of the kanima.

But Derek is a sexual assault survivor! And apparently, a sexual assault perpetrator.

And this is how racist fandom perpetuates itself. Think about how many people now in the Teen Wolf fandom have announced that they’ve never actually watched the show, or that they say that it’s been a long time they’ve seen the show and they’re not sure of the details, but they are absolutely sure they don’t like the Latino protagonist because he did terrible things like ‘manhandle a sexual assault survivor!’

Eventually, the details of what really happened will be lost, and the fandom will be totally consumed by people who think that the white man who did this was unfairly treated by the Latino protagonist. They will justify their dislike of Scott by the terrible things he did.

And to put a fine point on it, not only was Scott being directly threatened by the murder of a loved one when he did his foul deed, but every single innocent person survived the scene because of what he did. Whereas, and this has to be remembered, Derek got Erica killed.

I love Derek’s redemption story, but it is a redemption story, and that up there, wasn’t the only terrible thing he did. He seduced a terrified girl in vulnerable state after a humiliating and dangerous seizure, and then purposefully withheld information that should have informed her decision. Even in a later episode, when Boyd and Erica said they heard wolves, Derek said nothing about the Alpha Pack, even though he must have known that the wolves that the teenagers heard could have been hi s enemies. He could have said, instead of trying to impress them with his knowledge of lycanthropy, “I’m sorry, but the Alpha Pack is coming. Those are the people you could have heard. You’ll be in danger if you try to find them.”

But he didn’t. And for some reason, parts of fandom have decided that how he seduced Erica, how he used Erica to attempt to murder innocents, how he decided that he would determine who she dated, how he lied to her and got her killed, doesn’t qualify him as a villain who needed to see the inside of a jail cell rather than being able to cry about how badly he treated these kids because he was lonely. But Scott using him to defeat Gerard, who planned to kill Derek and enslave his betas, is beyond all possible redemption, and the black man who helped Scott saved everyone’s life was grooming him for his sinister intent.

BUT IT’S NOT RACISM.

#teen wolf racism #anti derek hale #erica reyes #scott mccall defense squad #alan deaton defense squad

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downwiththeficness · 3 years

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In the Bond-Chapter 23 (Final Chapter)

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~7,950

Warnings: Violence, blood, the use of explosives, a bad movie reference, death (kind of)

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter

Read on AO3 Masterlist

They were once again sitting around the conference table looking at a map. In this instance, the squabbling had, thankfully, been kept at a minimum. With a common enemy between them, all the anger and mistrust of each other had been redirected outwardly. There was no sense in fighting with one another when a greater peril threatened them all.

Lilah had marked several points all along an open space in the desert—possible hideouts Benny had used in the past. Javier was currently working with a small, trusted crew to root out where he might be through other means. While waiting for new information, they developed about five plans, all centered around obliterating the ever loving hell out of him.

She’d given up on steering the plan into less violent territory, settling for making things as quick and as efficient as possible. Lilah wanted no more incidents of near-death for the people in this room, herself included. If that meant others had to die, then so be it.

Seth leaned back in his chair, “We won’t be able to get any further on this until we know where he’s holed up. I say we get some food.”

They’d been at it for hours, and though Lilah wasn’t particularly hungry, she was glad for the prospect of a break.

“Pizza?” Seth asked, turning to the only other person in the room not on a liquid diet.

Lilah shrugged, “Long as its not from that place across from the grocery.”

“Oh, come on,” Seth groused, “Its not that bad.”

“The health inspection code is a ‘C’,” she countered, “They found rats.”

“Not in the pizza.”

She leveled a stern look at him, “They found them in the fryers.”

Seth rolled his eyes, but relented, “Alright. I’ll pick another place.”

Lilah leaned on her elbows with an indulgent expression as Seth took out a phone and pulled up the website to order. The phone wavering in her vision, the reminder of how she’d been captured, made her flinch. She covered it by running her hand over the map, but not before Brasa felt it.

Sitting to her right, he had been texting frequently with Javier, relaying the updates as he got them. Sensing her unease, his thumbs paused over the screen as he mentally reached out to her.

Lilah rolled her shoulders, taking the comfort he offered. She had a mission to accomplish. She could cry about being kidnapped later. Belatedly, Lilah realized that the ‘deal with later’ pile was pretty damn big and she would definitely have to take some time to actually deal with it.

Richie, who had been checking in on Kate, tossed his phone onto the table, “Much as I hate to ask, I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Brasa gave a curt nod, “I’ll have something brought to us.”

“Its appreciated,” Richie replied in a rare instance of sincere, professional gratitude.

She took in Richie’s appearance. He looked...tired. As a man of nearly unbounded energy, to see the glint in his eye diminished was unsettling.

“I’m sorry about Jackknife’s,” she said, catching his attention.

He lifted a shoulder in affected nonchalance, “Its good. We’ll rebuild.”

That boded well. Lilah half expected to hear that he was moving on to another high risk, high yield project. That he was sticking with the place hinted at Kate’s grounding presence.

“Did the bar top survive?”

Richie smiled, “Yeah. Its a bit singed.”

“That’ll just give it character.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, pushing his glasses further up his nose, “We got interviews with contractors in a few weeks.”

She made a soft sound of praise, “Look at you, doing interviews, being official.”

His eyes dropped, demure, “We figured we should actually follow the policies you wrote.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Richie’s attention was momentarily taken by a staff asking him about his blood type preferences, and Lilah found herself staring at the map. The ground cover was too wide, she didn’t have enough supplies. There were too many unknowns for her to be comfortable with moving forward. It frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t just make a decision and be done with it—execute.

The door to the conference room opened and Javier strolled in. Dressed in all white, a gleaming silver cane tapping along beside him, he was smiling wide. Cat and canary.

“I have brought some guests.”

Two staff were each dragging along a single, fighting person. Lilah didn’t recognize them, but she caught their fangs flashing as they grunted in pain. Clothing bloodstained and ripped, they looked like they’d been in a serious fight—which she guessed they had.

Brasa stood, gloved hand sliding along the wood of the table as he circled it, “Do they have the information we need.”

Javier’s smile held, “I believe they do.”

“Good. Bring them to my office.”

“As you wish.”

Brasa watched them go, then turned to the group, “I will need to question them. You may remain here for the time being. Rest. Eat. I will return when I have Benny’s location.”

Lilah cut in, “I’m going with you.”

He fixed her with a hard look, “This is not an easy thing to do. I will very likely need to hurt them.”

She blinked, “I’m sorry, who in this room just got kidnapped? I think I’m owed a little time to take out some aggression.”

From his perch on the tabletop, Richie drawled, “She’s got a point.”

Brasa glared at Richie, earning himself an amused laugh. Then, he gave a single, curt nod, and reached out for her. Lilah took his hand and followed him out of the conference room and to his public office. The two chairs that normally sat in front of his desk had been pulled out so that they faced the walkway dissecting the room. In each sat a battered culebra—one with his head hanging down, the other glaring defiantly at no one in particular.

Lilah let Brasa lead her to them. His step slowed several paces away and he squeezed her hand before letting go. Lilah stopped where he left her, folding her hands in front of her body as she took in the scene.

Javier was standing off to the side, the staff having left prior to their arrival. His expression was relaxed, but she sensed a hardness underneath it. They’d done this before. Possibly hundreds of times over their unimaginably long lives. She drew in a breath to steady herself.

Brasa pushed his hands into his pockets as he regarded them, “What are your names?”

“Up yours,” came from the glaring one.

Without hesitation, and seemingly without thought, Brasa kicked out. His foot landed on the knee of ‘up yours’, the bone crunching audibly. Lilah felt her hands clench at the sound, but she managed to keep the wince from her face. ‘Up yours’ screamed in pain, his chin tilted up to the ceiling. He let out another, softer sound, then visibly calmed himself. He’d been prepped for this.

Stepping forward, Lilah edged around Brasa, one hand brushing his arm. She leaned down and caught the eye of ‘up yours’, “This will go much easier for you if you answer our questions.”

His glare returned, more fierce than before, “We’re prepared to die for this.”

Lilah nodded, two fingers touching his temple, “We’ll grant you that. Death is much better than what he,” she jerked her head towards Brasa, “is going to do to you if you refuse to cooperate.”

“Luis,” came a small voice to her right.

Lilah glanced over at him, “Luis. Is that you?”

He nodded.

“And this one?”

A hesitation, then, “Rafe.”

“Rafe,” Lilah echoed, turning her attention forward once again. “Where is Benny?”

Rafe pulled away from her touch, “Nowhere. Everywhere.”

She very nearly rolled her eyes. They knew that Benny had created a kind of weird mystique around himself and his mission. They also knew that he had cast them as the villains in the story. The technique made a lot of sense—it was still annoying as fuck.

A scoff from Brasa, followed by, “Spare us your delusions.”

Lilah straightened to standing, “Benny failed you over and over. Why continue to protect him?”

Luis cast her a look that was edging on pathetic, “He saved us.”

“From what?”

“From you,” Rafe answered, something more than derision in his voice. Hatred, perhaps.

Brasa moved. Slow. Relaxed. “Why would you need to be saved from us?”

Another answer from Rafe, “You are Xibalban. We know what you do to our kind.”

There it was. They’d been told enough to keep them scared—little truths that were coated in a thin, thin lie. Easy to swallow. Easy to accept. Easy to break.

“It is true that my people once committed inconceivable atrocities against yours,” Brasa allowed with a congenial dip of his head, “But that is not what I intend, nor is it what I will allow. Not any longer.”

Rafe sneered, “Liar.”

“Sometimes,” Brasa admitted, “When the moment calls for it. But, this is not that moment. I am not lying.”

Luis spoke, his lips trembling, “We don’t know that. You’ve been hunting us down. Killing us.”

Again, Brasa acknowledged the truth for what it was, “Only those who put us all at risk.”

Lilah could see how this was going to play out, could already hear the back and forth that would take time that they just didn’t have. Benny could strike again at any time, possibly with more firepower. Every second they spent debating right and wrong, good and bad, was a second that could cost the life of someone she cared about. Lilah made a decision.

Reaching into the pocket of Brasa’s slacks, she pulled out his knife, flipping the blade open. With deliberate slowness, she showed each of them the weapon. Then, she started talking.

“I’m going to give you an opportunity. The offer is time limited, and it will be given to only one of you. Tell us where Benny is, and you live. First come, first serve.”

The room was quiet, save for the near constant snarls coming from Rafe. Lilah waited. Knife in hand, she simply let the quiet hold, let the uncomfortable stillness of silence make them squirm. If they knew Benny’s whereabouts, they’d tell her, and soon.

Luis broke first, “He’s in the tunnels, about ten miles north of where he...found you.”

The last two words were halting, as if he knew he shouldn’t say it, but couldn’t quite help himself. Next to her, Brasa growled low and long. She could feel the heat of his anger build both physically and within the confines of the bond.

“We have a winner,” she rasped, affected by how viscerally Brasa was emoting. Knowing that the longer they sat there, the risk of blood spilling would rise exponentially, Lilah turned from Brasa, “Javier, if you would, take Luis to be questioned further.”

“As you wish, Lady Lilah.”

Brasa held up a hand, “I want details, Javier. I want to know what Benny is planning.”

With a flourish, Javier hauled Luis up, tossing him towards the door, “I will take care of this.”

Luis landed hard on his knees, grunting in pain. But, he got up and let Javier lead him, limping, out of the room. The door closed with a kind of hard finality that eased Lilah’s anxiety. She felt Brasa’s confidence in Javier’s ability to get more of what they needed from Luis.

That left Rafe.

Lilah’s fingers gripped the knife, her jaw set, “Were you there when Benny took me?”

She didn’t recognize him, but she’d been hit pretty hard and had been too preoccupied with playing possum to memorize the faces of the people hauling her away. Beside her, Brasa removed his gloves.

Rafe shook his head.

“You’re sure?”

Another shake.

“I believe you.”

He visibly relaxed.

“But,” she continued, “I did say the offer would only be given to one of you.”

Rafe, knowing that she wasn’t going to relent, let out a sound of rage, rising unsteadily from the chair, hands outstretched towards her. He was stopped by Brasa’s hand around his throat. There was an almost too soft to hear pop as his larynx was crushed, the sound of his anger cut off with a wheeze.

Lilah closed the knife and slipped it back into Brasa’s pocket. Then, deliberately, she took a step back and crossed her arms. She’d said that she wanted vengeance, but exacting it with her own hands felt somehow unnecessary. All the fire that had been there five minutes before dissipated, leaving her feeling deflated.

Brasa had no such issues. His fingers curled deeper into Rafe’s throat, pushing beneath his skin. Blood welled up, dripping down the back of his hand to the floor. Lilah didn’t have to look at his eyes to know that they were red with rage, the glow of his power burning ever brighter beneath his skin. Flame burst from Rafe’s eyes, smoke wafting from his pores. He seared from the inside out, his body cracking into dust from the top down.

Brasa’s arm dropped, and he wiped the dust from his hands, his attention on the pile at his feet, “I should get a broom.”

Lilah looked at the spread of particles, trying hard not to think about the fact that it had once been a person, “We might have more important things to do right now.”

His brows quirked, “You might be right.”

***

Lilah stood at her station, well away from where the action would go down. The night was deep and dark, the new moon casting no light to guide their way. She looked over her equipment, one hand brushing over the black metal box sitting innocently to her right. Her laptop was gently whirring, all comms connected. At her thigh, her pistol rested in its holster, her knife strapped to her arm. Lilah hoped she wouldn’t have to use them.

According to Javier, Luis had talked freely, answered question after question. All of this was relayed to Lilah in detail until she felt like she had a good grasp on Benny’s plan. Brasa had sent Javier to set up the final blow, refusing to allow Lilah to do it, herself, as was her preference. She was too tired to argue, never having fully rested since the bomb had gone off two days before.

It was hard to think about it, the breakneck pace she’d been going at over that time. Lilah couldn’t even nail down if she’d slept properly, couldn’t remember eating or showering. And so, when Brasa had firmly pulled her into their room, she hadn’t resisted.

Assured that her friends were being taken care of, she’d let Brasa strip her down and run her a bath, let him wash her with soothing motions, until the water cooled And then, they’d tumbled naked into bed, the full darkness of the room letting her fall into a deep sleep.

She wished that she could say that she felt fully rested. While Lilah had slept for a long time, she had awoken groggy. Her body ached with something that wasn’t quite injury. She sleep walked through getting ready for the day, reluctantly eating a meal next to Seth, who sat drinking coffee while he cleaned his gun.

It wasn’t until she began to set up for the job that Lilah’s brain kicked in. This was it. They could be done with this awful mess today. If they succeeded, Lilah vowed to herself that she was going to do something fun—maybe rob a museum.

As she was contemplating this, heat built at her back. She looked up to find Brasa and Javier standing not far away. Brasa was wearing the familiar uniform of leather, sunglasses perched on his nose. Next to him, Javier was very much out of uniform. Instead of a sharply tailored suit, her wore thick canvas pants and a long sleeved shirt. He’d forgone his usual cane, a literal sword strapped to his hip.

“Are we set up?” She asked Javier.

With a deferential nod, he answered, “We are.”

“And you made sure to ground the connection—its just that it could go early if you—.”

Brasa laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, “He was very thorough. This will work.”

Lilah’s jaw shut with an audible click. She pursed her lips, the effort to hold back further questions not inconsequential. She busied her hands and her mind with activating the comms.

“McNamara online,” she said evenly.

It took a few seconds to get a response, but eventually she heard the click of the mic turning on.

“Richie Gecko online.”

“Oh, shut up,” Seth groused, “We’re in place.”

“You’re the one who said we should take this seriously.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t the fucking movies.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, “Alright. Hang tight while we get a lock on him.”

Tapping her mouse pad, Lilah opened the tracking app, “You think he’ll go for it?”

Javier shifted on his feet, “I believe he will. He’s already proven that he’ll sacrifice anyone and anything to protect his own skin.”

She stared at the little dots on the screen, “And Luis?”

“Running back to daddy,” he intoned, derision tainting his voice.

“You’re sure.”

He sighed, “I’ve done this a thousand times over. I know fear. I made him very, very scared before I let him go.”

The intensity with which he spoke, the unsaid threat in his tone, was enough to make Lilah drop the subject. She turned her attention to the screen, taking note of her location and the pair of dots indicating Seth and Richie. At the bottom left corner was a renegade dot that was steadily moving towards them. She watched it shift across the screen, pixels lighting up along the path.

It stopped at a fair distance from where the other two were congregated. Lilah held her breath as she waited for it to either stay where it was or start moving again. It stayed.

“He’s back,” Lilah murmured.

A flash of headlights appeared, lighting her station. She turned around in her seat, squinting at the car coming towards them.

“Is that one of ours?”

Brasa touched her shoulder, “It is. I should have warned you. Richie insisted.”

The car pulled up, dust swirling around the tires as it came to a stop. The engine and lights cut off, the driver’s side door opened. A dark head popped up, hair pulled into a high pony tail. Kate was dressed for practicality—jeans, t shirt, jacket, boots, gun. She closed the door, and walked confidently towards them.

Lilah waved at her, “Welcome to the party.”

She smiled wryly, “Richie said I couldn’t go with him, so I thought I would go with you.”

To be honest, Lilah was grateful for the extra support. It was often the case that she was alone, running the logistics, while others were executing her plan. Today, when the stakes were high, she found that she didn’t like the thought of being by herself.

Brasa took her hand, saying lowly, “Keep the bond open.”

She nodded, “Absolutely.”

“Good,” he leaned down and kissed her temple.

With a nod to Kate, Brasa turned from them. Javier stood a moment longer, his eyes absorbing Kate in detail. Then, he stepped back and followed his lord into the darkness.

Kate sighed with an odd kind of relief, “Well, what’s the plan?”

Lilah lifted a brow, “Richie didn’t tell you?”

“He said that he would be, quote, ‘fucking shit up’, but that’s as far as I got.”

That made sense. As if he’d gotten a power up in a video game, Richie had gotten some of his energy back as they neared the start of the job. As he’d loaded up the car, he’d been fairly vibrating with energy, a wide smile wrapped around a cigarette. Seth, on the other hand, had been stone cold sober—both literally and figuratively. The seriousness of his expression, the cant of his shoulders, told her that he was determined to get this done.

“Okay,” Lilah said, sliding into her chair, “This is Seth and Richie. And this,” she pointed to the errant dot, “is Luis. We’re fairly certain that he is heading back to Benny to tell him that we know his plan.”

Kate peered at the screen, “What was his plan?”

“To nuke the entire cave system, causing a sinkhole that spans across our entire territory.”

Eyes narrowing, Kate said, “That doesn’t make sense.”

Lilah cut her a glance, “What about it doesn’t make sense?”

“Benny’s schtick is all about how Brasa is destroying their way of life, right? What does taking down the cave system do.”

Lilah hesitated, her mind running through it, “I...think its because Brasa said they built it.”

“They did what?”

Hand waving to the land in front of them, “They built it—the Xibalbans. Its this huge maze of tunnels that are carved deep into the rock. I’ve only seen some of it, but its huge and complex and had to have taken forever to accomplish.” She paused, eyes scanning the middle distance, “I think that he made the caves a physical representation of their rule. I mean, right?”

Kate cocked her head to the side, “That could be right. Benny could also be batshit crazy.”

“Fair point.”

“Well, we can pretty much guarantee that he’s going to change his plan, knowing that we know.”

Lilah shook her head, “If you’re right and he is batshit, then we don’t know that. Crazy isn’t always predictable.”

“That is a fair point.”

“Which,” Lilah added, tapping out a few commands, “means that we need to get a little more inside information.”

She cued up the sound, activating the comm Javier had placed carefully into Luis’ pocket on the way out. For a few minutes, she had to screw around with the settings, trying to get the best sound quality.

We should keep to the plan—Benny. Make their land unlivable, give them no place to retreat. Then, we pick them off like the parasites they are.

What about the Xibalban? Came a voice she didn’t recognize.

They’ll protect their bondmate first. When they realize the danger, they’ll come running.

Lilah reflexively looked around, trying to discern if they were going to be attacked from the deep black of the landscape around them.

“Could they know where we are?”

“No,” Lilah answered, feeling her shoulders drop, “No, they couldn’t.”

“Then…?” Kate prompted, her head shaking from side to side in confusion. “Oh no… get your phone.’

“What? Why?”

“They’re gonna finish off the bars,” Kate’s voice cracked, “We have to get the staff out of there.”

With a long line of curses falling from her lips, Lilah sent off a barrage of texts to the floor manager, telling them to get themselves and everyone else out of the building. As she did that, the conversation coming from the ear piece continued.

We should cut and run—Naya.

We run now, and we’ll keep running. We have to hit them where it will hurt.

Didn’t we already do that? Benny, you burned down his lair, you bombed both their bars—every time you try to hit them, they just keep...coming for us.

That was not untrue, and Lilah hated that she agreed with Naya. Her mouth turned down as she listened, half her attention on the phone in her hands as she waited for confirmation that the staff had been taken to safety.

They aren’t invincible, Naya.

Neither are you. A sigh. Maybe we should leave. Maybe we should just leave them here and go find a place for ourselves.

And let them win? There was that voice she didn’t recognize.

If we don’t fight now, we’re gonna end up like Luis, over there.

A heavy silence landed in the middle of the conversation, and Lilah could only guess that Luis had been killed after he’d told Benny that he’d talked.

We just found each other, Benny. I don’t want to lose you so soon.

You won’t. We’ll handle this, and then we can start our lives together.

The sincerity of his tone, the way Lilah could hear every emotion steeping into his words...It helped her to understand how so many people could believe him when he told them that they could succeed.

Brasa’s voice sounded from over the bond, We’re in the caves. Where should we go?

Lilah relayed Benny’s location, telling him to be careful. She avoided details about the secondary plan, about how Benny had wanted to distract him. It wasn’t necessary. She’d taken care of it, and would fill him in later.

“They’re headed for Benny. If he wiggles out of it again, Seth and Richie will herd him to the back up plan.”

“What is the back up plan?”

“We got incoming!”

Lilah tapped the keyboard, “Seth, what’s going on?”

“Got a group of ‘em heading towards us. Richie and I will take care of it.”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t handle.”

Lilah nodded, even though they couldn’t see her, “Be safe. Don’t do anything stupid. If it gets too hairy, cut and run.”

There was a pause, then, from Seth, “Duly noted, boss.”

Unable to listen to the gunfire she knew was coming, Lilah cut the line. Next to her, Kate checked her phone, tapping on the screen a few times.

“What’s left of Jackknife’s is empty. The staff have gone to ground.”

“Good, good.”

Lilah’s phone had been silent, no response from the manager. She hoped that meant they were taking care of business and hadn’t been killed in the second wave. Her stomach rolled with regret that she hadn’t thought he’d attack there again, that she may have inadvertently put both her staff and the remaining injured culebras in danger.

We knew you’d be here—Benny.

Apparently, Brasa and Javier had arrived. She found herself leaning into the computer as she listened.

This needs to stop, Brasa’s voice was deceptively soft. She could feel how he was going to stop things, how much it took to say what came next, The two of you can go. We just want him.

Not a chance.

I can’t leave him.

This was said simultaneously, but Lilah could pick apart the variation in tone. The unknown man spitting the words out, Naya’s voice soft and weak and desperate. She resisted feeling sorry for either of them.

We will take him by force, Javier pronounced, and she could hear some rustling, then, We don’t want you, but we will go through you.

More rustling, I’m not afraid to die. And, if I get to take you out with me, that’s a bonus.

And then there was a bang that preceded the comm cutting off entirely. Lilah stared at the screen, one finger tapping on the keyboard to try to bring the sound back. No use. It was fried. Closing her eyes, Lilah reached across the bond to find that Brasa far away, further than he’d been since the beginning of all this.

She couldn’t tell if he was hurt, or if he was putting distance between them so that he could concentrate on doing what needed to be done, so that he could shield her from it.

“How fast is your car?”

Kate smiled, “Pretty damn.”

“Let’s go.”

It wasn’t until they were speeding away that Kate actually asked where they were going, “I’m literally hauling ass through the dark, here.”

Lilah pulled up her phone, opening the tracking app for the comms. She had the last location of Brasa, the little dot shining from somewhere below the ground. And then there were the two dots signifying the brothers. They were a little further South than they had been, but they were moving.

She opened the line, “Guys, you there?”

A click, “Yeah, we’re here. Kind of busy, though.”

Then, Seth cut in, “These fuckers just keep coming.”

Lilah swallowed down her rising nerves, “We’ve lost contact with Brasa and Javier. We’re gonna check it out.”

A few shots fired, the sound of it making Lilah wince. Seth’s voice followed, rough with exertion, “That’s a bad idea. He can handle himself.”

“I think,” Lilah croaked, “I think they had the same idea we did.”

There were more shots, intermittently cut through with unintelligible yelling. Lilah tried not to think about what was going on, knowing that her mind was far more creative than was typical of reality. Instead, she focused on directing Kate while she waited for a response that she might not get.

“Ah, fuck!”

“What happened?”

“Got clipped in the side,” Seth ground out, “Its not deep. I’m good.”

He wasn’t talking to her. She could tell. He was reassuring his brother.

“Quit getting hit,” Richie demanded, “We got people to kill.”

“Yes, Richie, that’s so helpful.”

Knowing that she wasn’t going to get them to focus, and the attempt might result in another injury, Lilah turned down the volume and pointed to the left of the car, “That’s about where they were.”

Kate pulled to a stop, shutting the car off, “What do you want to do?”

“I want to find him, and I want to ring his neck for leaving me in the dark.”

“Alright.”

Pull her gun from its holster, Lilah exited the car, using the headlights to peer around, “I don’t see anything.”

Kate had followed her example, a nine millimeter pointed towards the ground in front of her, “I don’t either.”

“They must still be in the caves, or—,” Lilah cut herself off as she spotted a plume of dust settling not too far away.

Kate followed her gaze, her mouth thin as she concentrated, “You think…?”

“Yeah,” Lilah breathed, “We need to be careful. The ground looks unstable.”

And indeed it did. Fissures cut through the rock below, the surface shattered in some places. Lilah eased forward, stepping back quickly when her foot sunk deep.

“Okay, what do we do?” Kate asked, taking a few steps back her eyes flicking back and forth.

“I don’t know.”

In the distance, something blew up. Another. And another. The sound came from all around them. Lilah could feel vibrations in her feet, in her chest, her hair standing on end.

“The fuck?”

Kate grabbed her arm, “The plan—they planned to blow the caves.”

Lilah stared at her, her mind slowly working to put the pieces together.

“He wasn’t going to hit the bars,” Kate said, her eyes shining with intensity, “He was going to bring us here. He knew you’d feel the hit to Brasa, knew you’d come here.”

Lilah looked down. Another bomb went off. There was no telling how many more there were, or when the ground beneath them would crumble. Angry and afraid, she reached out, slamming through the bond as it stretched thin.

I’m here. I’m fine. Javier is fine. We are near your post.

As relieved as she was to hear it, she cut through his reassurances, I already came to you. I followed the comm. Kate and I are standing on the caves.

She sensed his fear, sensed that he’d turned and was running back towards her, I’m coming.

No, no, that’s what he wants. You need to head towards Seth and Richie. They’re the next stop. Kate and I will get out of this.

Kate was already moving to the car, ushering Lilah along. Inside, she slammed the transmission into drive and they hauled ass away.

“We need to get to Seth and Richie,” Lilah said, pulling out her phone.

As she expected, their dots were moving towards the rendezvous points. Unexpectedly, the comm they’d planted on Luis was also moving. It had reconnected to the tracking system, and was flying in a twisting pattern towards the Geckos.

Lilah glared at it, flinching as a bomb went off a little too close for comfort. Kate was driving fast, the car eating up road as the engine roared. If it had been anyone else at the wheel, Lilah might have worried for her safety. As it was, Kate was a notoriously skilled getaway driver, having honed the talent over many jobs.

She hesitated, her finger hovering over the connection button on the app. Her hunch could be wrong.

Mouth curling, Lilah connected to the comm, “You still alive?”

There was rustling along the line, a bit of feedback, then, “I am alive and well.”

“Wish I could say that I’m glad to hear it, Benny.”

He chuckled, the sound coming out forced, “Good thing I don’t give a fuck about your happiness.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I’m guessing that you can see where I’m heading.”

“I can.”

“Good,” he bit out, “Then you’ll know when I’ve taken care of your friends.”

“You’re not going to make it that far, Benny.”

“We’ll see.”

The comm disconnected from his side. Lilah sighed and shut down the app. She pushed her phone into the pocket of her sweatshirt and fiddled with the edge of one of her sleeves.

“We almost there?”

Lilah nodded. Whatever she might have answered was cut off as a bomb went off too close to the car, the ground exploding outwards. Rocks shattered the windows on the driver’s side, the car swerving as Kate tried to keep control. A second bomb went off a moment later, the back side of the car lifting about ten feet. As it slammed back down, Lilah could hear the axle crack, knew instinctively that they had to get out, and fast.

“Out! Out!” Lilah cried as she threw off her seat belt.

Disoriented, Lilah stumbled as she got out of the car, looking over the body to see Kate slamming the door closed and rounding the hood.

“You alright?”

Lilah nodded, “I’m good. The car’s fucked, though.”

As if on cue, a bomb went off maybe a hundred yards away, and the ground shifted. Lilah felt it in a way that she couldn’t describe, an intangible feeling that scared her more than she’d ever been scared before. In between one second and the next, the ground sunk down, caving in on itself. The hole grew bigger, yawning ever wider as it worked to swallow them whole.

“Run!”

Lilah had never, never made her feet move so fast. The air whipped at her as each step slammed into the ground. The roaring in her ears was only tempered by the sound of her own breathing. A glance over her shoulder saw the car rear up before falling down into the depths, cutting off the light. Gritting her teeth, she dug into her pocket, her stride slowing as she keyed up the flashlight on her phone.

The path before them was illuminated, much good that it did them. On either side of them, the ground trembled. They weren’t going fast enough. They were going to fall.

Brasa…

He heard her, but his answer was overpowered by the way the ground fell out from under her. Lilah’s arm was caught by Kate, who dragged her to the side.

“Over there, the rock formation. That’s the safest bet.”

Not in a place to argue, Lilah followed Kate’s lead, pushing through the burn and strain of her muscles. As they neared, a tiny flicker of hope swelled, urging her to just keep moving. Lilah obeyed the feeling, arms pumping, breath punching in and out.

Another huge chunk of ground swelled up and dropped, the rumbling sound of crunching rock following. She veered, moving with Kate towards the only goal in sight.

Scrambling up, Lilah climbed as quickly as she could, digging her feet into the stone and scraping her palms. Behind her, in front of her, to her left and right, the earth roiled. She could hear more of the cave system crumble in on itself, taking whoever might be inside with it.

Near the top, with Kate huffing at her side, Lilah turned and watched the disaster unfold. It was a sight she would never forget. The whole world, as far as she could see it, rocked up and down, sinking and rising, turning over almost completely.

“He meant for us to be in that,” Kate said, the barest tremble in her voice.

“He did.”

“Fuck this guy.”

“Yeah,” Lilah said, when she could find her voice again. “Fuck this guy.”

Kate closed her eyes, and Lilah didn’t even have to guess at what she was doing. She drew in a breath to follow suit.

I’m okay. We got out.

Let me through.

Have you found Seth and Richie?

Let me through.

Tell me. Did you find them.

I...did.

And?

Seth’s hurt. We can’t stop the bleeding.

Horrified, Lilah opened her eyes, catching a similar expression on Kate’s face. She made a decision.

“Tell Richie to let you through.”

Not waiting for an answer, Lilah reached out to the bond, got a good grip, and pulled. The world tipped over, and Lilah landed hard on her knee, dry heaving.

“You could have just asked,” Brasa griped from not far away. Then, “Are you alright?”

She nodded, swallowing. As she looked up, Lilah caught Kate landing next to Richie, who was already bending down to help her up. Next to Richie was an ashen Seth. He was leaning against their car, blood soaking clean through almost the entirely of the front of his button down. His suit jacket was crumbled a few feet away, along with his gun holsters. He looked like he was going to try to stand, took a single step, and crumpled down in a heap.

“You look like shit.”

Seth started to laugh, the sound cut off by a groan of pain, “Fuck you, too.”

Ambling over to him, Lilah sat on her heels, “We need to get you to a hospital.”

He shook his head, “I’m good here. Could use a drink, though.”

“Don’t need to thin your blood any more than it already is,” Lilah shot back, “You’re hurt. This isn’t just a flesh wound.”

“Benny got in a good shot, I’ll give him that.”

Lips sneering, Lilah said, “We’ll get him back for this. We still have an ace up our sleeve.”

Seth sucked his teeth, blood coating the enamel, “You need to be getting to that ace.”

“Not until I know you’re going to make it.”

He was already shaking his head, “This isn’t something you come back from.”

Seth lifted the hand that had been staunching the blood, a spurt shooting out with every beat of his heart until he covered it again.

Lilah to a moment to think, “You can. You can come back from this. Richie can help you.”

She knew the moment that he understood what she was saying. She also knew that he was going to refuse.

“I’m not having this asshole,” he pointed to his brother, “Hold it over me for eternity, thank you very much. I’ve had enough of that already.”

“Are you seriously arguing about this while you’re dying?”

Seth glared at her, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that he was struggling to focus.

Lilah laid a hand over his, worried by the cool skin beneath her fingers, “Then, let me do it.” Surprised by her own words, she glanced up at Brasa, “I can do it, right?”

His mouth parted, closed, parted again, and then he nodded, “Yes. Your blood is my blood, and blood is the conduit.”

Turning her attention back to Seth, Lilah lifted her brows in question, “It’ll be better if its me, right?”

He was quiet for a long time, so long that Lilah began to feel the hope that had sparked while the earth trembled beneath her feet begin to fade. And then he nodded.

Hand digging into her sweatshirt, Lilah pulled out her knife. She rolled it into her other hand. And then, before she could question it, she dug the blade in. Carefully, Lilah dripped the steady stream into Seth’s mouth.

He took a deep gulp, then tried to pull away. Lilah cradled the back of his head, holding him to the wound, her eyes lifting once more to her bondmate.

“How much?”

Brasa’s eyes were fixed where Seth’s mouth met her skin, “A bit more.”

Lilah held her position for a minute or two more, focused enough on her task that she didn’t hear the conversation going on around her. Then, when she thought it might be enough, she pulled away. Seth, already weak, couldn’t keep his head up. His eyes were rolled back, forehead clammy.

“How long does it take?”

This time, Richie answered, “It depends, but not long. I’ll stay with him. You guys go after Benny.”

Kate moved to stand next to Richie, “I’ll stay with him, too. He’ll need someone here who won’t rib him for ‘coming to the dark side’.”

The last little bit of that sentence was said with heavy sarcasm and a pair of finger quotes.

Lilah sheathed her knife and stood, “You’ll let me know that he’s okay.”

With half a smile, Richie tapped the ear piece, “I’ll give you live updates.”

“Thanks.”

Brasa moved to her side, holding up the little metal box from her station, “I thought you might need this.”

Lilah took it gratefully, “I do. Thank you.” She rose up on her tip toes and kissed him lightly, “Let’s go kill this shithead.”

After settling Seth as comfortably as possible, Lilah took the keys to the car from Seth’s coat and hopped into the driver’s side. Brasa’s body dropped into the passenger’s side, Javier nimbly climbing into the back.

She rolled down the window, pointing at Richie, “Real time updates.”

He gave her a little salute and shooed her away, his focus turning to his brother.

It surprised Lilah how quickly they arrived at the rendezvous point, though it was nowhere near where they’d found Seth and Richie. Over the horizon, the sky was beginning to grow pink with the rising of the sun. She pulled to a stop a good distance away from where she knew Benny would be.

If all had gone to plan, they would have all been sitting here, watching this. Lilah comforted herself with the knowledge that they were at least unhurt, mostly. Seth would get better, would be healed before she got back.

Opening the door, Lilah got out, closing it behind her, the black box tucked beneath her arm. She didn’t bother looking for Brasa and Javier to follow, already moving around the huge boulder she’d parked behind. Pulling out her phone, she checked the dot representing Benny. He was right where she wanted him to be.

Below, the rock face sheered off, giving her the best view of the helipad just across a flowing river. Lilah breathed in the cool morning air, wind blowing gently.

Brasa leaned against the rock to her right, glasses reflecting the world below, “I can do it, if you want.”

Lilah looked at him.

“You don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to.”

She caught the glimmer of Javier as he stood at a respectable distance, felt the subtle change in light as the sun continued to rise. The night seemed far away already. The anxiety. The fear. The relief. It all felt as if it were a dream. And yet, here she stood, at the precipice of committing the final act in their plan. She felt no hesitation. She felt no fear. Lilah wasn’t quite sure she could feel much of anything.

“I got it,” she said finally.

And she did—have it.

Looking down, Lilah opened the box, her thumb flicking each of the toggles upwards until red turned green. In the distance, she heard the blades of the helicopter begin the turn. She looked down. Two figures ran for the craft.

“Is that him?” She asked Brasa, knowing that his eyes were infinitely better than hers.

He craned his neck, looking down his nose, “Yes.”

Without thinking, she tapped the comm, “You still alive?”

From across the distance, Benny laughed, “I am. Tell me, is Seth?”

She sneered, “He is.”

“Shame,” Benny replied, unrepentant. Then, with a light, conversational tone, “Hey, McNamara, looks like we’ll be seeing each other again sometimes.”

They wouldn’t.

“Hey, Benny,” she shot back, “looks like you’re on the wrong side of the river.”

Lilah waited a moment more, watching as the two figures climbed inside.

She pressed the button.

The explosion was small—or, perhaps it was only small because she’d seen so many up close not an hour before. From around the helipad, the explosives went off. In a succession of fifteen or so, they obliterated the ground beneath, until it began to crumble in on itself. And then, just for good measure, the helicopter, itself, detonated. Lilah watched until the whole thing fell into the hole the first blast had created, then closed the box and looked to Brasa.

“I want to go home.”

And that’s what they did. They found Seth, Richie, and Kate where they’d left them. Stuffing everyone into the car, they went back to the bar. Lilah was not ashamed to be relieved that the place was still standing. In their absence, the elevator had been fixed. It opened to workers still making repairs, a fine smattering of dust on every surface.

Tired, and half awake, the group filed into the conference room. Seth was laid out on the tabletop. As was his way, Javier was already arranging for food, liquor, and blood to be brought to them. As Lilah moved to sit, Brasa pulled her away from the chair she’d pulled out. With quiet care, he gathered her into his lap, holding her around the waist.

She wasn’t surprised to see Richie doing the same with Kate, though he was watching his brother very closely.

“When will he wake up?” she asked.

“Any minute,” Richie answered, his voice even and sure.

“How do you know?”

“Because Javier is bringing a bottle of shitty bourbon and you know he can’t resist.”

She laughed, some of the feeling coming back to her. Resting against Brasa, she watched as Seth laid on the table, unmoving. He’d been asleep for so long that she was doubting her decision. Sensing her unease, Brasa ran a hand up her back. Up and down. Calming.

Her shoulders didn’t move from where she’d had them bunched up by her ears until Seth drew that first, ragged breath. The relief coursed through her, tears dotting her cheeks. Sniffing, she wiped them away, resting an elbow on the table as leaned forward.

Richie eased Kate to the side, rising. He took a few steps around the table, lifting a hip and sitting not far from Seth’s head.

“Welcome back, brother.”

“Fuck. You.”

Richie laughed, “Glad to see you’re going to still be cranky when you wake up.”

“I died, you asshole.”

“I know. I was there.”

Seth tried to sit up, dropping heavily back down, “Fuck.”

The door to the conference room swung open, Javier pulling a cart in behind him.

Richie smiled, “Breakfast is here.” Then, softer, “You need to feed, Seth.”

Lilah though he would fight, thought he would grumble and pout until the hunger took over. And yet, when Richie held the bag out to him, Seth took it. With ease that could only come from watching someone do it over and over, he tore into the plastic, and drank it down.

Standing hesitantly, Lilah crossed into his field of vision. He drew back from the bag, breathing hard, game face on.

“Hey.”

He swallowed hard, “Hey.”

“You feel ok?”

One shoulder lifted, “For having nearly died, I feel pretty good.”

“Cool.” Then, “You want to steal a Renoir with me later?”

#from dusk til dawn #from dusk til dawn: the series #Brasa #In the Bond

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ayuuria · 3 years

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Yashahime Translation: Web NewType Online Interview

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“Hanyō no Yashahime”: Interview with Matsumoto Sara, Komatsu Mikako, and Tadokoro Azusa. ~The Gradual Reveal Behind the Mystery of the Parents’ Generation~

“Hanyō no Yashahime” is a story where the daughters of Inuyasha and Kagome and Sesshōmaru, characters who appeared in the big hit anime based on Takahashi Rumiko’s work, “Inuyasha”, are the protagonists. Half-demon twins, Towa and Setsuna, are separated from each other during childhood due to the fire caused by the evil god, Homura. Towa, who time traveled to the modern era, is raised by Higurashi Sōta’s (Kagome’s younger brother) family as their daughter and grows up into a young girl who is good at martial arts. Meanwhile, Setsuna, who was left behind in the feudal era, makes a living slaying demons with her fellow demon slayers who are headed by Kohaku.

One day, alongside a half-demon bounty hunter known as “The Monster Killing Moroha”, Setsuna battles against Mistress Three Eyes who covets the “Rainbow Pearls” the girls possess. Amidst that, the space-time tunnel of the Tree of Ages reopens once again and the two time travel to the modern era. There, Setsuna reunites with Towa who lives in the modern era, but due to having her dreams stolen by the “Dream Butterfly”, she has lost childhood memories.

In order to retrieve Setsuna’s memories, Towa goes to the feudal era with the two of them. While searching for the “Dream Butterfly”, they learn the secrets of their birth and the existence of the greater demon who threatens the world, Kirinmaru…… Finally, it has been revealed: Towa and Setsuna’s mother and the whereabouts of Inuyasha and Kagome. We asked the three who play the half-demon princesses about the story which has reached a big turning point.

— All three of you are big fans of “Inuyasha”, but could you tell us what the appeal is of the new story, “Hanyō no Yashahime”?

Matsumoto: I would say that the depiction of going between the modern and feudal eras in “Inuyasha” was carried over. People who know “Inuyasha” can enjoy it more, and “Hanyō no Yashahime” is story that starts off in the modern era Towa is in, so it’s a situation where people touching the work for the first time can time travel to the feudal era which I think makes it easy to understand. The characters are appealing with each of them having something to shoulder and relationship that are complexly tied together. Unraveling the mysteries in your own way and then comparing investigations on the character’s actions and story I think is fun.

Tadokoro: You see, we were acting without knowing the upcoming developments, so the wild ideas we came up with as to the identity of Towa and Setsuna’s mother was expansive (laughs). Regarding Moroha, it was clear from the start that she was Inuyasha-san and Kagome-san’s daughter, so I was deeply moved when I saw the vestiges she inherited from her parents in her appearance. As a fan, the part where it gradually becomes clear as to what sort of lives the three lived being separated from their parents is entertaining. Also, all the villains are pretty. Especially Kirinmaru-sama.

Komatsu: So you address him as “sama” (laughs)

Tadokoro: I instantly liked him (laughs). It’s the same with his appearance but because I want to know more about his character, I want to hurry and see the upcoming story and you can’t miss it because there are mysteries. I think being able to go into the world of that kind of story is appealing.

Komatsu: Coming from a generation that watched “Inuyasha”, a world without Inuyasha and the others feels strange. As the three girls slay demons, not only is discovering the secrets of their birth a key point of the story but the cheerful dialogue between them as they move as a team is a highlight. The existence of demons is a given and your life is in danger if you don’t slay them, so in a sense, you’re catching a glimpse of daily life in the Inuyasha world which I think is also appealing. There’s a sense of reality that you’ll struggle to eat if you don’t earn money by slaying demons. Finally, I think every important point that smells of Inuyasha and Sesshōmaru will become addicting.

Matsumoto: Yes. Just when you think you want to see an element of “Inuyasha”, a recollection is put in which is good.

— With the broadcasting of episode 15, the mystery of the identity of Towa and Setsuna’s mother, which was the subject of investigation, and why Moroha wasn’t with her parents has become clear. Looking back from episode 1, which episode left an impression on you?

Matsumoto: For me, it was episode 14, “The Mastermind Who Burned the Forest”, which caused the story to take a big step forward. While I was seething with anger confronting the culprit behind Towa and Setsuna’s separation, when Homura took his own life, it moved me to the point of feeling numb during the recording and I became unable to move. It left such a deep impression on me that I can’t forget the feeling of Setsuna calling me back like “Get a hold of yourself!” even now. There was someone pulling the strings behind Homura and the scene of our father, Sesshōmaru, standing next to that person on top of that was shocking. “What exactly is father trying to do? We daughters worry because we don’t understand!” is what I thought. Also, with the Homura incident, the distance between Towa and Setsuna has changed big time.

Tadokoro: For me, it was episode 15, “Lunar Eclipse, The Sorrowful Parting of Fate”, after all as it was the episode that depicted what happened to Inuyasha-san and Kagome-san which was important to me as an actor. Kagome-san kissed Moroha’s forehead and said “You’re such a good child” while crying. There was so much love in her voice that was so moving that it made me happy to know that the two of them gave her lots of love.

Komatsu: For me, it was episodes 12, “Night of the New Moon, Black-Haired Towa”, and 13, “The Delicious Feudal Monk”, which answered my questions regarding the existence of half-demons. It was especially surprising that Miroku was the one restraining Setsuna’s seething blood when she transforms into a demon. I not only realized that Miroku was powerful after all, but it also revealed what he was up to, so I think it was an episode that really moved the story forward.

— What sort of episodes would you like to see depicted going forward?

Matsumoto: I would like the three of them to go back to the modern era again.

Tadokoro: I want to see Grandpa and the others!

Komatsu: I want the three of them to go to school. I want to see Setsuna and Moroha in a school uniform.

#yashahime #hanyou no yashahime #yashahime: princess half demon #translation

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ganymedesclock · 4 years

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Ghirahim and gendered expectations of sensuality

So, as people who’ve seen my previous Zelda posts might gather, I have a mixed relationship with Skyward Sword. On the one hand, I think many of its characters have tremendous potential. On the other, I feel like the game largely did not live up to that potential, and in some areas, it feels rather deliberate. But suffice to say, elements of Skyward Sword have meant that certain characters- Batreaux, Groose, Fi, and Ghirahim are not far from my mind.

A brief primer, for those who might be unfamiliar: Ghirahim is the main antagonist of Skyward Sword, and a bit of an aberration in the common Zelda formula, which tends to introduce a ‘decoy’ or “lieutenant” antagonist who dominates for most of the game and then bows out towards the end as the prelude to the true final boss- usually Ganondorf, in Skyward Sword’s case, it’s the demon god and a figure we are clearly supposed to scan as Ganondorf’s divine progenitor, Demise.

Ghirahim is quite openly a harbinger of, and servant to, Demise- where he breaks script is by being extremely proactive. We run into Ghirahim in most dungeons in the game, where he is not waiting idly for us, but doing actions that veteran Zelda players might recognize as comparable to Link’s: he breaks into dungeons either chasing Zelda, or chasing information that will allow him to proceed. We also have not one but three different fights with him, personally, and several other times he concedes that he doesn’t have time to play with Link and instead sics a boss monster on him.

The other thing about Ghirahim is, I will outright say it: He is written as a caricature of a predatory queer man.

He’s shown to be literally bloodthirsty, and presented by the narrative ostensibly as someone who has a sinister, perverse interest in both Link and Zelda, a contrast to their saintly, chaste union (which is supposed to read as a union; pursue a romantic sideplot with Peatrice, another girl in the game, and Fi will pretty much openly admonish you for cheating on Zelda, saying that Zelda wouldn’t be happy to know Link’s seeing someone and that Link should know that)

This is, really, a bit jarring, when Ghirahim’s actual dialogue suggests that he has very little interest in Link and views him much like a butler tending the master’s house while the latter is away might view a feral golden retriever that’s running loose in the place and getting mud on everything. His emotional range runs from warmly patronizing to exasperated to a truly dangerous degree (since, in this metaphor, the butler has also been tending the master’s house in near-total isolation for something like several centuries not having real conversations with the other servants and nobody’s at their psychological best in those situations even if they weren’t implicitly born and raised to murder).

Basically: that Ghirahim has no real interest in Link- not his body or appearance or anything. In his own dialogue, he seems confused by the idea that he’s at all interested, is apologetic that he’s wasting his time or dawdling and in his final scene, offers a genuinely flummoxed “you... who are you?” He offers colorful, violent threats, but when Link obstinately faces him again, he’s shown to be almost embarrassed and disgusted by them, and tries something else that almost no Zelda antagonist does: on multiple occasions, he tells Link to just walk away from the situation with what appears to be every intent of letting him go.

Ghirahim does not want Link for himself. He seems to, begrudgingly, against his own intentions, value Link as someone to fight against, but this connection does not actualize within the story- they are not really rivals. He isn’t even that deeply fond of the idea of Link’s blood, though he’s a proponent of blood as a vague concept.

Now, I like Ghirahim. I don’t think that even the read of Ghirahim as a queer man is a terrible one. But it definitely is interesting the lens in which Ghirahim’s implicit sensuality is cast. Basically, he is depicted as creeping on Link, without any real sense that he wants Link. Because it isn’t about what he wants- it’s about that implicitly he has a sexuality, and the idea of a man who might be attracted to other men is threatening, evil, and scary. Ghirahim wasn’t made queer-coded for representation’s sake. He was queer-coded to suggest he was depraved and motivated by a sinister lust. And the cruelty of this depiction is I think made immediately clear by- Ghirahim’s actual interests, passion, or preferences do not factor in here. That Scene Where Ghirahim Does The Tongue Thing is about how it is expected to make the player feel, and how implicitly Link feels.

What is Ghirahim’s type? Does he consider Demise beautiful? He makes it pretty clear he considers Link a brat. These are questions that aren’t asked, because it’s wrong that Ghirahim seems to have any sexuality at all- and, since Link is our lens and our guidepost for how we’re supposed to feel about characters, if Ghirahim behaves in a sensual manner it happens to Link, and to Zelda, invasively. Even though it is shown he feels no desire for any of these people, so that sensuality basically comes across like the game is firmly expecting us to find the idea of even an e-rated sensual male antagonist repulsive.

This led me down a very odd sort of rabbit trail.

Because Ghirahim- a bit indirectly- is inspired off a figure skater.

Specifically, Fi’s design was stated to evoke a figure skater, and we even see her ‘skating’ in several of the cutscenes. Ghirahim’s design matches Fi’s quite strongly; they were designed to be two of a kind.

I am not, myself, a figure skating buff, but a while ago, I happened across youtube videos of a skater named Johnny Weir.

Quickly, you can see the sword spirits’ inspirations; the close-fitting leotards, the lithe, acrobatic capabilities.

But here’s the thing about Johnny Weir: this is a guy putting on a sensual performance that is not a gross-out, a joke, or a threat. It’s basically impossible to find nothing suggestive in his choice of backup movement or the movements he makes running his hands along his body- his costume even asserts these more with the mirrored details on his gloves. This is a dude, acting in a way you could say is objectively sensual even if it may or may not stir every viewer given the individual nature of preference.

But there’s a world of difference to Weir’s performance. Not just that this is a voluntary choice made by a real person, while Ghirahim’s choices, even if they have in-game logic, are largely about Link and about the player- but Johnny Weir is having fun. He has a charming energy to him and is performing to a song he loves.

Watching Johnny Weir, it occurred to me, that regardless of Weir’s own orientation- that I do not know and will not speculate on- there’s a preconception around “being sexy”. Women are seen as supposed to be sexy (but, in many circles, not too sexy. Can’t insinuate they know what they’re doing, or have opinions and tastes...), or, more, “sexy is seen as a job that women do for men specifically.”

So, to homophobic audiences... a man deliberately enacting a sensual performance- a sense of what sensual looks like from a dude- is seen as weird, wild, and out there. If you’re not shocked by the implications that Ghirahim may be attracted to men, may be into Link, may be into the idea of torturing Link- then a certain amount of his writing kind of falls apart.

And comparing the way Ghirahim is animated and shot to Johnny Weir’s performance, it’s kind of... weak? Like, at one point in Weir’s routine, he lifts one leg and slides his fingertips down it in a smooth stroke from knee to thigh. It’s a steamy looking move, and this coming from someone who is so prodigiously ace I thought sexual attraction was made up for the first seventeen years of my life.

Ghirahim does not do that. He’s got thigh cutouts in his very close-fitting outfit, and has lines in his second fight about his body and how beautiful it is, but he does not make these movements that deliberately catch and draw the eye along the planes of him.

To me, I feel like besides this being a general affront against real queer people- the Zelda games have a concerning habit of depicting “eccentric, effeminate” men as either neutral characters or open villains and virtually always with this air of being the brunt of a joke (it’s very hard to imagine ALBW’s Yuga was designed by someone who earnestly loved this character)- it is also a bit rude to the character of Ghirahim himself.

Because Ghirahim, at the end of the day, is someone who ends the story heartbroken literally and figuratively. The entire game, he is driven by loyalty to Demise. He does not care who he hurts or threatens- and this comes back to the seeming implication that he is somewhat bloodthirsty, but vastly plays up his appetite for torture. When he thinks his goal is out of reach, he continues slogging away at it anyway, but listlessly. Everything he does, is for Demise. He is devoted enough to, late in the game, throw himself on Link’s sword for the third boss fight purely to stall for time until Demise revives.

Demise does not speak to Ghirahim, or acknowledge him, or even seemingly notice or care that by the time he comes back, Ghirahim’s metal heart has been torn open by being repeatedly stabbed by Link. (third boss fight is not kind.) Instead, he rips Ghirahim’s sword form out of his chest.

Ghirahim is a danger to Link, Impa, and Zelda, because he attacks them, and his own subordinates, because he threatens them. But to his master, he’s just a disposable pawn. This is a character driven by passion such that many of his poses and scenes show him nearly breaking into an actor’s soliloquy as he explains something to Link- and this is one way he does seem to like having Link around: he craves an audience.

And his passion is, in two ways, depicted as completely futile. First, in the dubious amount of oo scary gay man, watch out Link, he’s doing something weird with his tongue- and second and far more seriously, that everything he works for leaves him with nothing because his life never mattered for a second in the eyes of the person he lives and dies for.

Ghirahim is made a sensual character, but in a manner that feels bad faith- that feels like it has not thought about male sensuality in any direction besides “that’s wrong and icky, so we’ll attach it to our villain, who we want to be wrong and icky, and absolutely not suggest there’s anything particularly sad about what happens to him. His fault for being wrong and icky.”

#Legend of Zelda #Ghirahim #homophobia discussion #readmore

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