Tumgik
#good eye for talent and also for weak spots that he can use to exploit people for his own personal gain oop
govandalsncaa · 9 months
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#1 Idaho hosts Arizona on Senior Day
It has been quite a ride for the Seniors on the roster for the Idaho Vandals. From being bottom feeders, to national title contenders this group has seen it all.
Dylan Thigpen, a Redshirt Senior has had the most storied career in Vandals football history. He has rushed for over 1,500 yards in each of his 4 seasons, and is less than 100 yards from eclipsing the 2,000 yard mark for the second straight year. As a Sophomore in Dynasty Year 2, he took home the Heisman Trophy and has also added the 2014 & 2016 Maxwell, 2014 & 2016 Walter Camp and 2016 Walker awards to his trophy case. Simply put, he is one of the best college football players of all time.
Redshirt Senior Brandon Luckett who has emerged this season as a weapon at WR has also enjoyed a storied career in the Idaho offensive huddle.
Tim Givens, is an All-American at Tight End in his final home game for Idaho.
Starting Center, Randall Reid who has anchored the offensive line this year, is playing his final home game. Also on the offensive line is starting right tackle, Mike Jones.
Wayne Eades II who is an All-American and may be the first defensive player in years to earn Heisman Trophy votes will be moving on after this, his Redshirt Senior season. Also on the defensive line are Idaho's two starting defensive tackles, Michael Holt and Rashaan Crawford.
The linebacking corps will lose two key pieces, Charles Akanno one of the nation's leading tacklers from his middle linebacker spot will be done with his Vandals career after this season. Tarik Littlejohn who has had a standout Senior campaign from his outside linebacker position will be moving on after this his Redshirt Senior season.
Idaho's two starting safeties will also be graduating. Free Safety, Kevin Fellows and Strong Safety, and All-American, Sedrick Thomas.
Now, getting back to the business at hand. The #1 ranked Idaho Vandals (10-0. 7-0) are hosting the Arizona Wildcats (5-5. 3-4) in the Kibbie Dome on Saturday.
Statistically, this looks like a mismatch on paper, in nearly every meaningful category, Idaho holds a significant advantage. One key metric to keep an eye on, though is turnover margin. The Wildcats are +6 in that department, and Idaho is just +1. If Arizona can win the turnover battle, that will go a long way to giving them a chance at the upset.
The Wildcats are coming off of two consecutive wins over Washington State and Washington, both in Tucson. A win over Idaho would make Arizona bowl eligible, heading into their regular season finale with their arch rivals, Arizona State in Tempe.
Slowing down, Senior Quarterback, Khalil Tate will be the key for the Idaho defense. Tate boasts a 129.3 quarterback rating this season and also averages nearly 50 yards a game rushing the ball. Containing him will be a focus for Idaho.
On offense the Vandals will surely look to exploit Arizona's weak rushing defense. The Wildcats are allowing 219.8 yards per game on the ground, which is just 114th best in FBS play this season.
Coach Idaho Coach spoke about the game on his weekly radio show.
"Obviously with this being Senior Day, and the amount of talented guys we have that are Seniors, it will be a real emotional day. But, we have to remember that we still have a lot of business to take care of, and if we really want to honor our Seniors, we need to go win a National Championship. That starts with beating Arizona.
We have a had a good week of practice, we have several recruits in town this week, getting to know our coaches and our program. It is always really fun to have those guys on campus.
Against Arizona, I think for us, it is about being steady, and being ourselves. Don't try to do too much. Go out there and play Vandals football and we should come out with a win."
ESPN College Football Analyst, Kirk Herbstreit has picked the Vandals to beat Arizona, and this columnist agrees.
Prediction:
Vandals: 42
Wildcats: 21
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vos-videmus · 3 years
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jkshdfkjhsd I meant Personality 9 for knox I'm just. stupid
LjBGDKHSK LMAO UHHHHH
5 positive traits
He’s hot
He eventually realized he did shitty things (but still has no idea how to go about rectifying them)
Since maelstrom he’s been more passive and thinks through his potential actions more
He’s always been a good leader even though his leading style is more akin to a dictatorship
Has a good eye for talent
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e-vasong · 4 years
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Not sure if youre taking the whumptober asks but can I request #6 with five? 👀 Also sorry new to Tumblr so not sure if I'm doing this right lol love your writings btw!! ❤
Oh!! YES I LIKE THIS ONE.  It is not October, but I’m not so much “participating” in Whumptober as I am just using it to kick myself into gear with writing.  
I may kinda suck at filling prompts, even when I ask for them, but when I do...it takes a really long time because this was supposed to be 1000 words max and is actually like. almost 3000 words of shameless whump.  WHOOPS.  Most of this is under a cut, because it’s long and...well, whumpy.
TW: Torture, electrocution
No. 6: Please... “Get it Out” | No More | “Stop, please.”
“Hm,” Agent Finch laid the bloody pliers back on the metal tray with a clatter.  “You’re as resilient as I remember, Number Five.”   He sneered the words, hands tightening into fists at his sides.
Five supposed that Finch meant for that to be a threat, but he just couldn’t bring himself to take it seriously.  
“Go ahead and hit me, Finch,” he gave the man an affable smile.  “If you really throw your back into it, it might even hurt.”
The provocation worked.  Finch did hit him, then.  Right across the face.  The force of the blow snapped Five’s head off to the side, slamming his skull into the metal back of the chair.  The steel reverberated, the noise echoing painfully in Five’s ears.  It did hurt, in a distant sort of way, but Five had found that being punched was always more jarring than it was painful.  Not to mention the fact that it was just bad technique.  After all, if you really rung someone’s bell...
Well, in an interrogation, where the goal was to disorient your target and trick them into giving you vital information, a concussion could be useful.  But it was a poor tool for torture because it made it easier to zone out, to forget about the pain.   And if Finch were any good at his job, he’d know that.
Five sighed.  “Ouch,” he said, voice droll.  He worked his jaw experimentally.  Everything seemed like it was still in its proper place, though the movement tugged painfully on the bruise that had already started to blossom across his left cheek.  
“You can’t fucking run, Five,” Finch said.  There was a new speck of blood on his chin, bright against his salt-and-pepper stubble.  “I know you.  I’d say we have a good half hour before you can jump again; probably longer, with you in pain like this--” Five couldn’t repress the laugh that bubbled up in his chest at that.  “Which is plenty of time for me to make you regret ever crossing--oh for fuck’s sake!  What are you laughing about?”
“Oh,” Five rolled his eyes. “Nothing.  Don’t worry about it.  You’re doing great.”
“What?” Finch’s hand returned to the metal tray, grabbing the pliers again.  “Not enough pain for you?  Fine.  Another fingernail, then.”
Boring, Five thought.  A sadistic appetite with no real vision or talent to follow it through, that was Finch’s problem.  He watched with disinterest as Finch pressed the pliers against his left ring finger, readying himself to breathe through the inevitable pulse of pain that was coming.
“No!” The shout came with a clatter of chains and cuffs as Diego jerked against his bonds.  Five jumped, and Finch did too, pliers slipping from his hand and hitting the ground with a clang.  Huh.  They’d both forgotten, somehow, that Diego was here too. 
“You sick son of a bitch,” Diego bit out, the dramatic fucker.  Five’s annoyance was practically a living creature inside of him.  Diego’s hero complex was both entirely predictable and deeply unwelcome, since Five had this very much under control, not that Diego much seemed to care.
“Shut up!” Five and Finch snapped at the same time, voices overlapping as they spoke.  
There was a brief lapse in conversation, the room falling silent as they both processed what had just happened.  Finch whipped around to glare at Five, and Five glared sullenly back.  He wasn’t about to be the one to break eye contact, but it was more annoying than he’d admit to accidentally end up on the same wavelength as his oldest and most incompetent acquaintance from the Commission.
“Why?” Diego said, responding only to Finch.  “Because you’re some twisted fuck that gets off on torturing children?”
Diego could be dangerously intelligent when he wanted to be, but he was a bad actor under pressure.  And this was a stupid, blatantly obvious attempt at provocation, even by Diego’s standards.
So of course Finch turned back towards Diego, a dangerous glint in his eyes.  
“Diego,” Five said, a warning in his voice.
“You know full well that your brother isn’t as young as he looks,” Finch said, talking over Five.  His voice was calm, but he was moving closer towards Diego as he spoke, successfully baited.
“Oh, sorry,” Diego said, yanking on his chains again defiantly.  They rattled against the ceiling pipe above Diego’s head and Diego winced.  The struggling was likely doing no favors for the discomfort of his position.  “I guess that makes torturing him alright, then.”
“Your brother,” Finch said, “was supposed to be my backup on a job once.  Instead, he shot me in the back and left me for dead.”
Diego, to his credit, looked utterly unfazed by Finch’s unfavorable and one-sided description of their former partnership, even though it was, essentially, accurate.  
“Your back?  Really?" He jerked his chin in Finch’s direction.  “Damn, I’d have guessed he hit you in the face.  Maybe he should have.  Can’t get any worse than this.”
Finch punched him, which seemed to be his default reaction to everything that upset him, the neanderthal.  His fist collided with a sickening crack, and Diego went limp.  Five stiffened in his chair.  For all that he’d critiqued Finch’s technique, the man was still a burly six feet, almost all of it muscle.  A poorly-gauged blow--and Five did not trust Finch to gauge anything well--could do more grievous damage than Finch may have intended.
“Diego?” Five called.  If Finch killed one of his siblngs, Five wouldn’t much care whether it was an accident or not.
There was a heart-stopping moment where Diego didn’t respond.  He just hung there, limp and unmoving.  Five’s breath caught in his throat. 
Then a shudder passed through him, and Diego’s head lifted slightly.  “”M fine,” he muttered, though he was clearly too disoriented to raise his head all the way.  His eyelashes were fluttering as he fought for consciousness, and a bit of bloody spittle dripped from his mouth to the ground.
“Five’s right,” Diego said.  He was slurring his words.  That was bad.  “That barely even hurt.”
But Finch didn’t respond to the jab this time, not the way that that he did when Five had resorted to the same taunt.  Instead, he stopped to look at Five.
“Did you...?” Finch tilted his head to the side, looking thoroughly bewildered.  And then his face split into a wide, almost hysterical grin.  “My, my,” Finch said, and Five went stiff.  
Finch’s smile was smug, like the cat that caught the canary, which was a disorienting turn of events.  Five was used to being the cat, not the songbird, and he rather liked it that way.
“What?” Five said, terse.
“You almost sounded...God, what’s the word?” Finch said.  “Oh, I know!  Concerned.”
“About him?” Five scoffed.  “In his wildest dreams.”
But it was too little, too late.  Finch’s lips twisted upwards in a vicious grin.  
“I can’t believe it,” he said.  “After all this time.  You know, we used to gossip about you in the break room.  Wonder if Five, the best assassin the Commission had ever seen and the Handler’s favorite little pet, had a weakness we could exploit.  We never did figure it out.  Who would have realized...” Finch turned back towards Diego and grabbed him by the jaw, tilting Diego’s head upwards as if to get a better look at him.  “That it was something so...sentimental.”
Finch laughed.  “I mean,” he continued, “we had some really crazy bets going. But this is just-it’s just--oh, don’t scowl at me, I’m trying to give you a compliment.  I guess I really didn’t see this coming from you of all people.  I didn’t even realize you had emotions.  Other than, you know, anger and irritation.  Those I knew about.”
Five opened his mouth.  Finch hushed him.  “Don’t lie to me, Five,” he said.  “You should have heard yourself just now.  That was the most scared you’ve been all night.  You have a soft spot!  All this time, I’ve been hitting the wrong target.  You should have said something earlier.”
Five grit his teeth furiously.  “Leave it, Finch.”
“No,” said Finch simply.  He walked back towards Five, and Five knew better than to think that Finch was coming back for him.  Instead, Finch gathered up a handful of cables, loose electrical wires sticking out of the rubber on one end, plugged into a large metal device on the other, and winked.
“Enough,” Five said, lowly.  “Finch.  Finch!”
“’S fine,” Diego spat.  “I can take it, Five.”
No.  Five struggled, but it was fruitless.  Finch palmed some sort of button on the device, and the air around them filled with an electric hum.  Finch strode idly back towards where Diego was strung up--the device was by Five’s side, presumably because Finch had meant to use it on him, but the cables ran long enough that Finch reached Diego without needing to pull them taut.
“Finch!” Five tugged sharply at the leather straps that kept his arms bound to the chair.  No luck.  
“Hm,” Finch was in front of Diego again.  “Let’s try it out.”  And then he reached out and pressed the exposed wires to a patch of exposed skin on Diego’s collarbone.
Diego tensed.  Five could see the muscles in his neck clenching as he grit his teeth.  He didn’t scream.  He likely couldn’t, paralyzed by agony, but the anguished groan he made in the back of his throat spoke volumes.  
Five twisted fruitlessly in his bonds.  He heard something in his right hand crack, the thumb popping out of place.  He wouldn’t be surprised, from the feel of it, if a few bones had broken too.  But even so, the leather was simply too tight.  
He couldn’t get free.
Finch held it for a moment, then pulled the cable away.  Diego sagged, panting heavily.  A few more tremors went through him, aftershocks as his body processed the pain.
“That all you got?” Diego slurred.
“No,” Finch said.  “It isn’t.”  But before he proceeded, he turned his attention back towards Five.  “You see?  All this over a couple dead civilians?” he asked.  “You realize that I’m going to kill your brother, right?  Was it really worth it?”
“Stop,” Five’s voice cracked.  He pulled at his bonds again, paying particular attention to his now-broken hand.  If he could just force it, he could get free.  In his old body, he might have been able to do it--sure, it hurt, but pain was nothing in the face of the panic coursing through him.  But in this body, he just wasn’t strong enough.  “Please. Finch!”
“Wow.” That did seem to give Finch pause.  He clicked his tongue, sizing Five up thoughtfully.  “You know, the begging is a nice touch.  It’s really making this whole experience a lot more enjoyable for me.”
Then he pressed the wires to Diego’s throat again.  Diego twisted in agony, and Five knew that Finch wasn’t going to let up this time.
Diego was going to die.  Five yanked against the leather straps again as he jerked forward, overtaken by instinct.  It couldn’t end like this.  He couldn’t let it.
And then he was free.  With a flash of blue light, he stumbled out of a jump right behind Finch.  Finch dropped the cable immediately, even before he turned around, likely recognizing the distinctive sound of Five’s warping.  The live wire sparked on the ground.
Five didn’t bother with grabbing a weapon.  Finch twisted around, and Five punched him in the face with his good hand.  Finch staggered, though he caught himself on a nearby pillar of concrete before he could fall.  But Five was behind him before he could regain his balance.  He got an arm around Finch’s neck, braced his mangled hand against Finch’s jaw, and twisted hard.
Five felt the bone break under his hands, just beneath the brainstem.  Even pained and concussed, his technique was perfect.  Finch collapsed to the ground, dead before he even hit the floor, and Five had just enough wherewithal left in him to angle the corpse so it fell on top of the live cable’s exposed wires.
“H-holy shit, Five,” Diego said.  Five’s heart twisted slightly at the sound.  Lapsing back into his stutter like he was, Diego sounded so like the young, childish version of himself that Five had left behind all those years ago.  
“One sec,” Five said slowly, lifting a finger to silence his brother.  It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying, which was...a bad sign.  The world had started swimming strangely around him, and adrenaline could only keep him upright for so long.  But he needed to get them out of there.
He stumbled his way over towards the machine that the cable was hooked up to, hitting the button so that it shut off.  Then he found the lever connected the chains that were keeping Diego strung up and pushed it down.  The mechanism released, and Diego stumbled to the floor, hitting his hands and knees with a pained groan.
“Motherfucker,” Diego said, rolling his shoulders.  He was still shuddering from the electric shock.
“I’ve got you,” Five said, trying to keep his voice steady.  He made his way back over to Diego.  The notion of collapsing beside him was tempting, but Five resisted the urge.  “Come on, we gotta...we gotta go.”
“How-how’d you j-jump?” Diego asked.  “I th-thought you were at your lim...your limit.”
“I was,” Five said.  “Adrenaline.  Hell of a drug.”
“What?” Diego arched an eyebrow.  “D-dude, you like one-one of those moms that lifts a car when they see their kid is trap--” Diego had to stop and close his eyes for a moment.  “Trapped?” he finished, more smoothly this time.
“No,” Five snapped.  “That’s stupid.  And it’s called hysterical strength.”
“Whatever,” Diego rolled his eyes, in a manner that clearly suggested that he didn’t believe Five but was too tired to push the matter any further.  “Just d-don’t collapse on me, al...alright?”
“I don’t plan on it,” Five said wryly.  And then his world listed off to the side.  “Oh.”
He doubled over and threw up a mouthful of blood and bile.
“Shit,” Diego said, scrambling forward to steady Five as he sank to his knees.
“Shit,” Five echoed, and passed out.
                                                           ***
He woke up in a hospital bed, a monitor of some sort beeping monotonously in the background.  
Five sat bolt upright the moment his location registered.  What the hell?
He wasn’t hooked up to much.  There was just the IV sticking out of the back of his left hand, which was an unusual change of pace.  Five turned and reached over to rip the IV out, only to see that his right hand was bandaged.  Heavily.  
Shit.  He’d use his teeth then.
Five had just lifted his hand to his mouth when a bleary voice murmured: “Five...?”
He recognized that voice.  Five blinked and looked up.
“Diego?” he asked.  The burning panic in his chest extinguished, leaving only embarrassment in its wake.  
This was clearly just...a normal hospital.  Diego looked exhaustedly back at him from where he sat half-slumped in an uncomfortable-looking chair that had obviously been requisitioned from elsewhere and dragged over to Five’s bedside.  He had an expression on his face like he wasn’t quite sure whether Five was losing his mind or not.
“What are you doing?” Diego said slowly.
Five hesitated a moment longer, then lowered his hand back down to his side.  “What happened?” he countered, pretending like Diego hadn’t spoken.
Diego narrowed his eyes, but thankfully let Five’s evasiveness pass without comment.  “Some Commission asshole kidnapped us.  Spent some time making mincemeat out of us--mostly you--and then you warped so hard that you tore your stomach lining.”
Five did remember that, now that Diego mentioned it.  Well, not the stomach lining bit, but that was presumably the explanation for the bloody vomit.  
“Huh,” Five said.  “Didn’t know I could do that.”
“Don’t fucking do it again,” Diego commanded, with all the presumptuousness of a child who thought they could get away with bossing around their elders.
“How long has it been?” Five turned narrowed eyes to Diego.  “You should be in bed.  You need to be monitored for cardiac arrhythmia.”
“It’s not--don’t worry about--”
“I fucking knew you were here,” hissed Ben from the doorway.  Diego jumped.  
“Ben,” Five said, relieved.  Finally, someone with common sense.  “Get this idiot out of here.”
Ben froze like a deer in the headlights, startled.  His head jerked up to look at Five, and the irritation and concern clouding his expression evaporated as he broke into a relieved grin.  
“You’re awake,” he said, soft and pleased.  He stepped fully into the room.
“You can’t be serious,” Five said as Ben plopped down on the foot of the bed, gently pulling Five into a quick, tight embrace.  “Both of you are ridiculous.”
“Oh,” Diego mocked.  “How dare we be concerned.”
Five rolled his eyes and spread his hands slightly, gesturing to the hospital room around them.  “As you can see, I’m fine.”
“Yeah,” Diego said.  “You look fantastic.  Really, uh, in the peak of health right now, huh?  Gonna go get up and run a marathon?”
Ben let out a little snort of amusement, and Five glared at them both, utterly betrayed.  
“I can take care of myself, you know,” Five couldn’t ever remember being as relentlessly young and foolish as his brothers--or ever needing this much minding, for that matter.  At the skeptical noise Diego made in the back of his throat, Five tilted his head to the side and said, archly, “Which one of us is still in bed and which one snuck away from medical attention, Diego?”
“Ah, fair point,” Ben turned to Diego, still smiling.
“Oh yeah?” Diego said, sensing that the tide was turning against him and crossing his arms over his chest defensively.  “And what were you doing when you were trying to rip your IV out with your teeth, again?”
Five straightened his back.  “Diego,” he hissed, but it was too late.
Ben frowned, an expression full of worry and brotherly disappointment.  “Five!” he said, clearly dismayed.  Five wilted slightly.  Was this how Klaus felt all the time?  “Why would you do that?”
Five cast a sidelong glance at Diego.  “I was just disoriented,” he said.  “That’s all.  And I’m better now, so it’s hardly worth getting riled up over.”  It probably wouldn’t have taken him long to realize that he was just in a regular hospital once he made it out to the hallway.  
Once he had...he probably would have gone stumbling off to look for Diego, Five could admit that much to himself.  But he certainly didn’t need to tell his brothers that.  No one could prove that he was lying.
“Just,” Five waved them both off.  “Take Diego back to bed.”
“For fuck’s sake, Five,” Diego said.  “I’m just worried.”  Then, as if sensing that Five was not his best bet, he turned mournful eyes towards Ben.  “Just a little longer, Ben.  Then you can rat me out to the damn nurses.”
Ben’s lips twisted thoughtfully as he glanced between them.  “A couple minutes,” he finally conceded with a sigh.  “It’s not like you won’t just break out again anyways.”
“Ha!” Diego said, too loudly.  Five winced, the noise aggravating the pulsing headache that Five hadn’t even realized he had.  “...Whoops.”
Five glared.
“Sorry,” Diego’s voice was closer to a whisper now.  He reached out, lacing a hand with Five’s and squeezing it apologetically.
“It’s fine,” Five said, ignoring the feeling of warmth that bloomed in his chest.  “I’m not made of glass.”
“I’ll leave if you really want,” Diego offered.  “We can let you get some rest.”
If he wanted.  Ha.  Five couldn’t pretend that getting some peace and quiet didn’t have an appeal, but...in it’s own sort of way, it was comforting to have family in the room.  Irrefutable evidence that they were still living and breathing, so real that even all his years of knowing they were dead couldn’t override it.  But Diego did need to go back to his hospital room; Five wouldn’t be the one to pull him from the care he needed.  He refused.  But for now...
Five sighed.  “Fine,” he said, and squeezed Diego’s hand back.  “Just for a few minutes.”
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thewheezingwyvern · 4 years
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Pocket of Sunshine
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Rating: Spicy (Not quite NSFT but not SFW either-sexual/suggestive themes and situations but no sex)
Ship: Pro Hero!Kirishima x F!Pro Hero!Reader x Pro Hero!Shoto
Word Count: 2.5 K
Summary: Sandwiched between Kirishima and Shoto, things get a bit heated while you three wait for your train.
Credits: The base image can be found from this photographer from Unsplash. And this idea was a request from @arrestingaphine​ ! It was intended to be shorter but the idea really took in my brain. And yes you read that banner right, there will be a part 2!
⫸ ⫸ ⫸ ⫸ ⫸ ⫸ ⫸ ⫸ ⫸ 
You had not planned on starting your morning out feeling sexually frustrated. But life seemed to like to throw you into these predicaments. You couldn’t say you were complaining, however. No girl with a pulse would be against being sandwiched between Kirishima and Shoto, two amazing heroes with growing notoriety. It was a few years into their college work, honing their craft and in Kirishima’s case: his muscles. Powerful, cut muscles that put out enough heat on their own that it chased away the cold that had gripped you.
Being pressed against Kirishima was tempting enough on it’s own but with Shoto sitting on your right it made it even more intense. The left side of his body was kicking off waves of heat, chasing away the cold that had seeped down to your bones from outside. Two very, very attractive men and there was you, all five foot one of supple curves. Curves that you wanted to have pressed even closer to them. Thoughts of heated touches, wet and wanton mouths descending onto your skin filled you, your breath coming out marginally more ragged.
‘Down girl!’ you thought to yourself, ‘You’re just here for the trip to the hospital to learn protocols for bringing in wounded civilians.’
“We’re here early.” Shoto noted, dichromatic eyes slipping down to look at the watch on his wrist, “The train won’t be here for another twenty minutes.”
Damn how did he look so sexy just doing that? Mentally you began kicking yourself. What was wrong with you!? It was too early in the day for you to feel this aroused! Even if they both were really hot…
“That’s ok, isn’t it? It just gives Sunshine here a chance to warm back up!” Kirishima scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you to him, “That’s better, yeah? I know it’s really cold outside and your Quirk counts on you storing up heat. It isn’t too much is it?”
“Let me get closer as well.” You could have sworn you just saw a small smirk flash across Shoto’s lips, “We don’t want you to freeze.”
Oh god. If they were any closer to you than you would probably combust on the spot. And they were getting so cozy in a public space that you couldn’t help but whip your head around to see if anyone was looking. To the rest of the station it was business as usual, everyone around was too busy wrapped up in their own affairs to notice the three of you. Although you knew it was only a matter of time before someone recognized the famous Todoroki and Red Riot, street attire or not.
“Is this ok?” Todoroki asked.
Fuck. That voice. A subtle drop in octave, rubbing against your ear and it was nearly enough to have you audibly whimper. It was like the universe KNEW that you had a crush on the two of them and made it a point to torment you with them. You opened your mouth to answer but your throat felt uncomfortably dry, as if the words were catching before they could reach your lips.
“I-uh-”
“Hey you ok there?” Kirishima inquired, giving your shoulder a squeeze, “You look like you aren’t feeling yourself…”
Something didn’t seem right. You knew Kirishima by this point and that question, that tone he spoke with, did not at all sound like how he was worried. There was an almost...husky quality to it. And it sent shivers down your spine, thoughts of that voice growling out into your ear as he fucked you swelling in you.
“G-guys?” you squeaked faintly when they closed in on you.
“Mina told us.” came Riot’s voice in your ear, “You’ve had a crush on us, huh?”
You were going to kill her. Or at least that was your initial thought but it quickly dissolved into thin air when Kirishima took your jaw gently into his hand, tilting your head back towards him. The amused smirk he greeted you with made your cheeks grow hot. There was a brief pause, red eyes flickering down to eye your lips which you unconsciously licked. He brought his head down and pressed a firm kiss to your mouth, a soft groan vibrating in the back of his throat.
Scratch that. You owed Mina a dozen thank yous and at least one drink the next time you two went out.
Kirishima was every bit as attentive in his kiss as you had expected, lips moving fervently against yours. He lapped at your lower lip, seeking entrance which you eagerly granted him. With a groan you discovered he was very talented with his tongue and you instantly thought of the other places he could use it on you. That was until a hot mouth fell upon the right side of your neck, suckling at the skin there. The feeling was enough to make you groan with desire into Kirishima’s mouth, feeling your muscles grow weak beneath the attention.
“I hope you didn’t forget about me.” Shoto purred against your skin.
It was a sinuous sound that pebbled the skin on your arms. He kissed a path up your neck, meticulously studying every twitch and sound it drew from you along the way until he pulled your ear lobe between his teeth. It was a careful way for him to find all of your weak spots to exploit them and make you nearly fall apart. Shoto kissed in a similar fashion to how he fights. Every brush of his lips or nip of his teeth is one of careful, pinpoint precision but also overwhelming in intensity. It was enough to have you quaking, hungry for more of him, ready to melt beneath him. The feeling of their mouths on you was tortuous and it made you ache between your legs, so many places on your body begging to be touched. As if your thoughts had summoned them, hands fell on your body, squeezing through the thick jacket and clothes you had worn to stave off the winter cold.
Kirishima pried himself away from your full mouth to catch his breath. You were feeling winded yourself, their touch snatching the air right out of you. There was enough time for you to suck in several gasps of air before your head was turned to your right. Todoroki’s dichromatic eyes were ablaze with his own desire, his mouth slightly parted as he drank in your face. You were about to whisper his name when he crushed his lips to yours. The raw need that came from him was staggering and not something you had anticipated from him.
The kiss was smouldering and only seemed to grow as he went on, a fire stoked by a warm wind. It was intense and the sensation was only amplified by the heat coming off of him. Heat that your body drank in greedily to store away for later. Fuck he was a really good kisser. You could feel your abdomen tighten when a Quirk heated hand slid sensually down your throat, fingers lightly wrapped around the column of your neck. The heat was decadent and felt wonderful against you, soaking in every drop offered in that touch.
“Mina also told us that you didn’t just have a crush.” Kirishima nipped at your ear, his impossibly large frame swallowing yours, “She also told us that you wanted to be pressed between both of us. Heh, you should have said something. We both want you bad, Sunshine.”
Hearing him whisper into your ear made you give a soft gasp against Todoroki’s lips. A hot, probing tongue slipped in immediately, exploring you carefully. The thought had long gone from your mind that you three were in a very public space where anyone could walk up and see you getting kissed breathless by two notorious heroes. Given how hot you felt and how your arousal was pooling in your panties, you probably wouldn’t have cared.
A large hand found its way to your left breast, squeezing the supple flesh that was hidden beneath your jacket. Kirishima wasn’t normally that bold and it had you moaning with need. If you weren’t in the middle of the train station you would have pounced right onto his lap and ground yourself down against his cock. Shoto pulled away from you, panting softly, his face flushed. He shared a look with Kirishima before they both pulled away, leaving you positively aching for them.
Todoroki’s eyes bore into yours with an amorous intensity and it told you clearly that he wasn’t ready to drop this. And the disappointed whine from the red-head to your left clearly declared that he didn’t want to stop either. But the train station was growing more crowded now and it was only a matter of time before the three of you-
“Neh? Is that the hero Nova? And Red Riot?!”
That was the sign that at any moment the three of you would be mobbed. So that prompted the two of them to slide discreetly away from you but still close enough that you were bathed in their body heat. You swallowed the lump in your throat as Shoto stared you down before there was the faintest twist at the corner of his mouth. That look alone was enough to make you whimper softly.
“You can tell us both, in detail, just what you would like for us to do to you later.”
Oh shit. You didn’t get the chance to think much more on that because the three of you were mobbed by adoring fans and the crowd only swelled when they all realized Shoto was there too. Left and right you could hear voices, questions, most asking for autographs and about where you were going. The chaos had Kirishima standing up and laughing jovially, a large goofy grin spread across his face.
“Hey, hey settle down now. We’ll try to answer what we can before our train gets here, ok?”
Todoroki rose to his feet as well, giving your arm a gentle pull so you could still be close with them. If you were being honest, you still hadn’t adjusted to the throngs of people that would randomly approach you on the street and it often was overwhelming. But Kirishima was adept at it and held their attention easily while you tried to reign in your thumping heart and desire.
“Nova,don’t you have to stay warm, though? It’s so cold out today!”
Fuck how were you supposed to answer that? Somehow saying ‘Well my two classmates here made sure to kiss the life out of me until I felt like I was going to burst into flames’ seemed like something that was off the table. You struggled to come up with a response, your traitorous mind steering your thoughts back to the heated kisses and touches they had just drowned you in minutes before this. A lump formed in your throat as you thought of tasting them, touching and exploring and-
“Are you worried about her?” Kirishima asked with a chuckle, abruptly throwing his arm around your shoulder, “That’s so cute! You don’t have to worry! We take really good care of our Sunshine here.”
It was such an innocent statement. At least it was meant to sound innocent. But you knew that Kirishima had said that on purpose, reminding you of how he felt with you pressed closely to him. You could feel your face grow hot. They were just determined to embarass you, weren’t they?! Shoto cast you a meaningful look before addressing them as well.
“Between Red Riot’s body heat and my Quirk, we’ve made sure that Nova has stayed heated today.”
Ok he was definitely doing that on purpose. And it did not have your abdomen tightening at the insinuations there. Not at all. Nope. 
“It also helps that I carry around these…” you laughed sheepishly, pulling out the two hot packs you had stashed in your pockets, “I have to stay prepared!”
“You have such good teammates Nova!” one high school girl gushed, “They’re so caring! Are any of you dating? You would be sooooo cute with Red Riot or Todoroki!”
You choked, “D-dating?! Uh, no no no! I mean, it’s not like there’s anything wrong with them! I just mean I don’t- We’re just-”
“Awww you guys got her all flustered!” Kirishima laughed good naturedly, “We aren’t dating but Nova is adorable, isn’t she? I think anyone would be lucky to date her!”
“Eh?! Does that mean you’d like to date her Red Riot?!” inquired another high school girl.
The red-head lifted his arm and scratched the back of his head a bit bashfully, “Well, heh, I guess I wouldn’t mind at all! But we’re pretty busy people, yeah? Not sure there’d really be time.”
Hey wasn’t it time for the League of Villains to attack again? You hadn’t seen them in a while. Now would be a great time for them to show up! Any moment now. Any. Moment. Now. Your eyes widened marginally when the crowd turned their attention back to you, curiosity practically glowing from their eyes. Oh fuck.
“What about you Nova? Were you interested in Red Riot?”
That single question made you feel like you were short circuiting. Infact, once you got shocked by Kaminari and the sensation wasn’t all that different. The easy answer was hell YES. But you couldn’t deny that you wanted Shoto as well. Yet all of those emotions caught in your chest as you stared out at the small crowd of people wanting answers from you.
“I-uh-um,” you stuttered, tugging at the hem of your jacket, “Well I- Oh look, our train’s here! Got to go!”
Without a second thought you snatched up both Kirishima’s and Shoto’s arm and bulldozed your way through the crowd. The train car was like a sanctuary and you felt some of your mounting anxiety lessen. Your face was impossibly hot, so much so that it could compete with a furnace. That was awful. That was mortifying. Yet everything that came before it was so undeniably steamy and sexy that you couldn’t wait to have them on you again.
“I- Kiri why did you- I just-”
Todoroki raised a brow and smirked faintly, “I think you broke her.”
“Shut up, Sho!” You gave him a shove.
“Heh, don’t be embarrassed, Sunshine! I was only telling the truth.”
You buried your face in your hands to hide your mortified expression. That only seemed to urge them on further and they sat you down with firm and guiding hands, wedging you closely between them. There was no longer the pretense for them to be doing it to warm you up. No, there was no doubt that you were plenty hot at the moment and they did not help anymore. As more people filed on, finding places for them to sit, Shoto leaned over and pressed his lips closely to your ear.
“Now, princess, why don’t you tell us both what you want us to do to you? Quietly.”
This...this was going to be a very long train ride.
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k7l4d4 · 3 years
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Sonic Franchise OCs and Character Adaptations
Hello all, today I am taking the plunge and crafting some Original Characters for the Sonic Franchise of Video Games, Comics, TV Series, and Movies! As well as adapting one of the Franchise’s characters a bit, nothing too serious though I don’t think. Everybody Clap Your Hands!!
Brawl the Hedge-Wolf
Alignment: Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral
Quote: “For things to change, something is lost. Fact.”
Personality: Brash and blunt, and sort of dense, Brawl has a nasty temper and is slow to understand a situation, yet nonetheless he cares for others and wants to make the world better in his own way. Of course, his idea of better can sometimes leave something to be desired. One of his prominent traits is his genuine fondness and desire to protect kids and make them laugh, and he often grows distressed at the of people finding him frightening in any way.
Synopsis: Created from the Data Dark Gaia acquired from Sonic’s Werehog state, Brawl is the latest variant of Dark Gaia’s Apostles, beings dedicated to preventing the stagnation of the world by destroying that which threatens to leave the world still and unchanging. Despite the cringy edgelord vibes this gives, Brawl is very much dedicated to his mission, constantly traveling to find new irregularities that are threatening to overly stabilize the world, particularly for the worse.
History: Brawl is a Hedge-Wolf, a completed version of Sonic’s unstable Werehog form. The Werehog state that Sonic once held was a result of him being infused with Dark Gaia’s power and being transformed into an artificial Apostle, something that left him unbalanced and dangerous to himself and potentially others. Dark Gaia’s Apostles have always existed, but they usually assume the twisted forms of Dark Gaia’s Minions, and often have limited capacities for true intelligence and ingenuity. To counter this, and to ensure that they are only unleashed under the correct circumstances, Dark Gaia used the data it gained from absorbing Sonic’s Werehog state to construct a new champion.
Powers: As a result of intensive study on Sonic’s Werehog form, and his natural state to boot, Brawl possesses all the abilities of Sonic’s Werehog form, but with something of a twist. Unlike the slow, lumbering pace of Sonic’s Werehog, Brawl is quite fast; he isn’t as fast as Sonic, but he can still outrace the vast majority of vehicles, be they of land, sea, or sky, and can even mimic some of Sonic’s battle techniques, such as the Spin Dash and Homing Shot, albeit with his personal twist. 
Brawl’s use of the Spin Dash is far less controlled and movement oriented than Sonic’s being more akin to a Buzz-saw being launched from a cannon than anything else, and once he assumes it, he has difficulty changing directions before he hits something. Brawl’s version of the Homing Shot is more along the lines of a headlong rush towards a target, lacking the ability to follow up into an additional shot like the original could, but counter-balances by allowing Brawl to instantly break into a sprint upon a hit and resume attacking.
Fighting Style: Brawl’s fighting style is far more fast-paced than the lumbering barrage of attacks Sonic adopted during his stint as Werehog, taking advantage of his habit of using his speed by traveling upon all fours to attack by turning his body into a living missile, combining his strength, speed, and momentum to send anything and everything he hits flying. He rarely fights standing, but when he does, Brawl typically uses his elastic limbs to grab his enemies and throw them clear, either to give himself room to charge them, or to use them as ammunition to take out multiple foes at once. While not the quickest thinker, Brawl has a knack for tactics, easily employing and executing ambushes and hit-and-run strikes as he pleases.
Appearance: Brawl largely resembles Sonic’s Werehog state, albeit with a more balanced build, having a leaner torso and less bulbous fists, though they are still pretty big. Brawl is noticeably taller than Sonic, standing a full two-heads above the speedy Hedgehog, and lengthier legs to accommodate his height. Brawl’s most distinguishing trait, however, are the tribalistic markings of his fur, giving him a oddly wild and mystic look to him.
Sticks the Badger
Alignment: Chaotic Good/Neutral Good
Quote: “They say I’m crazy, and I am! Crazy prepared.”
Personality: Paranoid, and something of a loner, Sticks is slow to trust and slower to accept the help of others. Regardless, Sticks genuinely cares about people underneath her suspicious demeanor, and will often lend a hand as needed. Sticks has a fervent belief in the reliability of nature, and often grows annoyed by the reliance on technology of others, and takes extra joy from trashing the tech of Mechanically inclined villains like Eggman. Blunt and to the point, Sticks has little care for social niceties, often resulting in her unintentionally angering people, though she is usually genuinely confused why people would be upset with her for her comments.
Synopsis: Growing up in the wild, Sticks has an unusual affinity for nature and has a prominent distaste for those who push for development, though she is willing to admit, however grudgingly, that people do need places to live and grow. Sticks often stays behind the scenes, only engaging when someone is stupid enough to mess with the forests and jungles she places under her protection, or those who try and exploit nature’s bounty for selfish and stupid reasons. Despite her distaste for tech, Sticks possesses remarkable talent at working with it, being able to successfully repair even some of the most complex and delicate of machines when needed. Don’t tell her I told you that.
History: Sticks first came to the attention of Sonic and his friends when reports of a strange wild-girl destroying machines needed to develop land came in. After several tense confrontations, Sticks revealed that the forest the development was taking place on was protected due to the rare and endangered plants and animals who called it home, and that the developers were moving dangerous chemicals and substances through the area, in other words, dumping toxic waste and chemicals illegally and using urban development to cover it up. After the reveal, Sticks became an on-again off-again ally of the team, joining up on missions whenever it looked like nature was being threatened, or when technology was being abused.
Powers: In terms of more supernatural abilities, Sticks is far from lacking, as she possesses two very deadly skills for combat; natural psychometry and aura manipulation. Her psychometry allows her to read the past or near future of plants, animals, and natural structures near her, and it often acts as her early warning system of threats against the environment. Sticks gained her ability in aura manipulation during an as of yet unknown adventure during her youth, the memory of which is lost to her; her usage of aura allows her to reinforce and augment objects, tools, and weapons using her own life force, though it isn’t something she uses much due to how draining it is. 
In terms of more mundane skills, Sticks is something of a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to survival and nature. Sticks has extensive knowledge of the skills and training one needs to live in the wild, and is a confirmed expert in the creation and usage of traps, camouflage, and tracking. A deft hand with thrown weapons in general, Sticks is a Master at using Boomerangs to fight, with her personal Boomerang being carved with mystic wood to grant it a supernaturally sharp edge when thrown and to ensure it always returns to her, no matter how long it takes or how far it has to go. Sticks has an extremely keen eye for detail, and as a result can breakdown and identify the nature of an enemy’s combat techniques rather quickly; she can also use this talent to mimic and copy engineering and mechanical skills, something she employs grudgingly but effectively as needed.
Fighting Style: Sticks is almost assassin-like in her approach, often avoiding direct fights when possible, and using her skills at stealth to strike from her enemies blind-spots and general weak-points. Sticks usually fights by either throwing her boomerang in precision hits, or by rushing in close and using her boomerang as either a knife or club to end a fight quickly. A downside to her preferred fighting style is that Sticks is rather fragile to direct blows, something she usually tries to keep from getting around, but her acrobatic abilities enable her to avoid most blows that would give her immediate trouble, though not all.
Appearance: Largely the same as her Sonic Boom appearance, but trading her skirt for a pair of shorts, and holsters on her back and sides to store her boomerang. She also wears a pair of combat boots to give her better traction in the types of environments she usually favors, plus she thinks they look awesome to boot (Forgive the pun, I’m exhausted right now).
Well, I got this done, let me know what you all think!
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xianglingslesbian · 3 years
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ewbts - my top moments
no i will never stop laughing at that abbreviation it’s beautiful. buckle in because this is gonna be long, and probably don’t read it unless you’ve watched/read kuroko’s basketball and like izuki lmaoooo
chapter 1: hatchling, awaken
Izuki swallows. “Why do you all think I can do this?”
Then Kiyoshi turns to him with steel in his eyes (that must be how he got nicknamed Iron Heart - he seriously never backs down!) and asks him very clearly, “Why don’t you?”
Why don’t I think I can be captain?
“Because nobody thought I could be until now.”
aka “ceru is a masochist”, exhibit 1/???. anyway lets hear it for insecurities!!
chapter 2: liftoff
Predictably, Kuroko drags him aside at practice the next day and says, “I have something to tell you, Izuki-senpai.”
Izuki smiles at him. “Is it about your five evil exes?”
Kuroko looks horrified. “My what?!”
i think im funny
chapter 3: crash landing
As Izuki walks off the court, he looks for flashing glasses and grey eyes.
He curses himself for the heavy sadness that falls over him like a blanket when he doesn’t spot them.
yay for “ceru is a masochist” exhibit 2!
Oh, he [Izuki] watched videos of Aomine, came up with strategy after strategy to corner him, but videos and strategies can only go so far. Aomine in real life is something else entirely, a flash of lightning setting the court on fire with the sheer elegance of his crazy street basketball. All one can do is sit back and watch, awed beyond belief. Nothing can curb the wild madness that is Aomine Daiki – unrestrained, gleeful insanity dancing across the court like it’s his playground.
i also rlly like this line, it has some pretty imagery and we all know im a slut for pretty imagery~
chapter 4: a broken bone grows back stronger
“All right,” Koganei says to himself, moving to stand in front of the hoop. “One more time.”
He jumps, raising the ball to just above his face and releasing it. It misses, and he lets out a cry of frustration.
Can he even do this? Is it worth the time?
Koganei bites back the wave of guilt that washes over him at the thought. Izuki, Kiyoshi, Tsuchida, Rinnosuke, Kagami, Kuroko – he’d be letting them down if he didn’t give this his best shot. They’re all so dedicated to basketball that they each have a special skill honed from years of practice and love for the sport. If he can’t bring anything of his own to the table, what will he mean to this team? Seirin makes him want to be a team player, to add his skills to theirs rather than shining on his own. The change is good, yes, but he doesn’t want to stop there – he doesn’t want to be useless.
He will not be useless.
a bit of context: in this fic, since hyuuga did not return, koga became the SG for seirin :D i think my favorite character to develop, apart from izuki, was koganei - it was so fun to imagine all the ways he could have gone!
chapter 5: spreading new wings
All too soon, the day of judgment arrives, and Seirin convenes in the gym one last time before they head off to the Winter Cup building. No one says anything; not Kagami, fresh from his training trip to America, not Izuki, not Kiyoshi or Riko. They simply stand there, breathing in the scent of cleaner and leather and something else that’s so entirely Seirin, and knowing that no matter what happens this Winter Cup, they will return to the gym different people than they were before.
Different, and better.
Then they head out and off to the opening ceremony of the Winter Cup, not looking back once as they do.
yay for more pretty words!!!
“Oh, no worries. The actual motivational part is coming. Anyway, as I was saying – Tōō was just better than us that day. It’s hard to admit, I know: far easier to blame yourself, say you didn’t give it your all, but you know; we all know. It was their day to shine, not ours. But I think we’ve worked hard enough and are in a good enough mindset to change that, today. We aren’t scared or apprehensive about Tōō and Aomine, because we’ve faced them before. We know what attitude they’ll walk into our game with, and that’s what we’re going to exploit!”
“You’re going to exploit,” corrects Tsuchida. “Unlike you, the rest of us aren’t manipulative bastards.”
That raises a bunch of cackles, which quiet down when Izuki gives his team a glare. It doesn’t work on Riko, however, who sniggers under her breath and smirks at him.
izuki highkey sucks at pep talks lmao
chapter 6: ride the storm
Kagami and Aomine were made for each other. Made for this rivalry, this intense competition that will push them to their very limits and carry them onto a plane that no ordinary human can reach. Neither can defeat the other per se - they’re destined to stand neck and neck forever. However, one has a trump card on his side; and that trump card can make all the difference in the world.
Aomine Daiki may be strong, but Kagami Taiga is just as good. And damn him if the power of Kagami’s determination coupled with Kuroko’s unshakeable support won’t overwhelm the undisputed king of basketball.
Move aside, light bulb, Izuki thinks vindictively. The tube light is here to replace you.
pretty words. gay words. i love them (aokaga + izuki being a salt man lmao).
chapter 7: eagle versus aegis
“So bitter,” he [Izuki] reflects aloud, answering Himuro’s question.
That’s the emotion in his eyes. That’s what I might have become, if I had let my anger grow.
And suddenly he isn’t seeing Himuro Tatsuya anymore, but a version of himself, a version with darkened eyes and a mocking smile and pain and rage bubbling below the surface. Immensely talented, but not able to break the last barrier. Because he’s an ordinary man, and it’s as much as an ordinary man can do.
Strong, so strong. But also so terribly, heartbreakingly weak. Weak in a way that today’s Izuki Shun will never be.
GOD where do i even start w/this scene its literally everything i’ve ever wanted to write ksjfhsfj
chapter 8: clawing through mirages
Izuki’s taken aback for a millisecond before he continues his mad dash towards Murasakibara, letting out a war cry as the center makes to simply toss the ball into the hoop.
“It wasn’t their intention,” says a quiet but familiar voice. “But, this is the result of Kiyoshi-senpai and the other upperclassmen’s tenacity.”
Izuki grins, feeling new strength fill him up.
Together, huh? Okay. Together.
“This is where it ends for you!” shouts the voice, becoming stronger.
Not one, but two hands knock the ball out of Murasakibara’s hands and onto the ground. Kuroko shimmers into vision, smiling at Izuki with all the happiness in the world, just as the final buzzer rings.
i loved writing this match tbh, yousen is super underrated!
chapter 9: catch the updraft
21 - 22, in their favour at long last. Izuki grins at Kasamatsu, who shakes his head wearily.
“Using my own advice against me. What a terrible student you are,” he says, affecting an old man’s voice.
“The true student is the one who beats the master at his own game,” Izuki says quickly, sliding back into their familiar banter. “I swore to myself, my drive would beat your drive today, kitakore.”
“When did you get so wise?” asks Kasamatsu with a sigh, ignoring his pun and receiving the ball from Kobori, who was quick to grab it once Koga scored. Izuki just laughs, not bothering to reply and instead focusing carefully on Kasamatsu’s movements.
Kasamatsu shifts his weight right, left, then right again. Izuki narrows his eyes, trying to figure out what the hell his upperclassman is doing—
But it’s far too late, as Kasamatsu successfully passes through his defence in his moment of distraction, ball clutched tightly in hand. The sound of the scoring whistle is shrill and unpleasant to Izuki’s ears, and his chest stings at the loss.
“What was that about the main course?” Kasamatsu teases, wearing an enormous grin as he comes forward to guard Izuki once more. 
izuki + kasamatsu banter is so so fun to write y’all have no idea
chapter 10: headwinds
This is your fault. If you’d been a better captain, a better point guard, a better everything, none of this would’ve happened. Seirin would have been well in the lead and controlling the game—
Izuki shakes his head violently, trying to get rid of his intrusive thoughts. He knows he’s a good captain, and doing this to himself will do no good for the rest of the team. He has to be strong for them. He has to lead them to victory, he can’t be a weak person overwhelmed by emotion. But it’s so hard to breathe, suddenly, and Izuki’s about to sink when—
“Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll take care of this match today,” says a confident and familiar voice, and a hand claps down on Izuki’s shoulder. He turns, a little surprised by the sudden contact, to find Koganei’s cat mouth set in a determined frown. “You can rest your hopes on me. I’ll be Seirin’s wings for as long as you need me to.”
kogazuki brotp feels man. kogazuki brotp feels.
chapter 11: cliff edge
Riko nods, sobering up a little. “I do know. And… I have to admit, I was a little harsh on you in the early days… I kept comparing you to Hyūga-kun.” She looks at the ground briefly, then raises her head to continue, meeting Izuki’s eyes with no hint of doubt in her own brown irises. “But then I saw how different you were. How you were never willing to give up, even if you were the worst player in the world. That’s what… that’s what made me truly believe in you.” She swallows thickly, taking a deep breath, but not averting her gaze from his.
The honesty and trust in her eyes is what shatters Izuki’s calm.
He steps forward, and she rises too, opening her arms. Then he hugs her tightly, murmuring, “Thank you for having faith in me.”
The “Of course. You’re family,” that she whispers back fills Izuki’s already overflowing heart even further.
Eventually, he lets her go, and she drops lightly to the ground, straightening her sweater and skirt.
“We never speak of this,” Izuki warns her, moving towards the door of the room.
Riko nods, back to her usual haughty demeanour. “Of course. No one can know we’re actually big softies who care a lot for each other.”
“To them, we’re just sarcastic jerks,” Izuki agrees. “And that’s the way it stays.”
anyone said izuriko brotp???? this fic is just platonic feels tbh
chapter 12: overcast skies
What should I do? Someone tell me! the voice cries out in Izuki’s head, a voice he hasn’t heard since the loss to Tōō. It is the same voice that whispers all his insecurities in his ear in the dead of night when no one is around to reassure him, the same voice that gave rise to all his fears and worries. It is the voice of the vulnerable and weak part of Izuki, the one that needs someone to guide him with a gentle hand, and he hates it.
It is a voice that, frankly, he never thought he would hear again. Yet, here it is, crying out for attention, screaming for someone to help.
He thought he had left it behind. It turns out he was wrong.
Izuki shoves it deep into his heart with more effort than he’s exerted all game, breathing a heavy sigh when he succeeds in locking it behind the glass wall that keeps his emotions away.
let’s hear it for “ceru is a masochist” exhibit 3~
chapter 13: nosedive
“I don’t know who you are,” Koganei completes his little speech, anger brimming in every part of his being. “But I know that my captain is Izuki Shun, not Akashi Seijūrō. The coach can bench you if she likes; we can fight without our captain, because we know he wants us to win for his sake. We’ve been fighting without him all the match, and we can continue doing so. We don’t need a player that can’t play with the same passion as us!”
Izuki looks at the ground and doesn’t respond. Somewhere within, something is stirring at Koganei’s words. Something that cries out to fill the gap inside him.
Next to speak is Kiyoshi, standing up and executing much the same move as Koga had by yanking Izuki up by his collar. However, Kiyoshi pulls Izuki into a standing position so that Izuki is half-leaning against him.
Brown eyes meet black, and Kiyoshi simply states, “I didn’t expect this from you, Shun.”
Then he rears his fist backwards and punches Izuki in the jaw.
“ceru is a masochist” exhibit 4!
chapter 14: bird of prey
“I just… I didn’t think you’d give up so easily.”
Koganei’s head shoots up. There’s fury in his eyes, and his face is white. His hands are shaking.
Izuki continues, calm and careless as he always is, “Really… after you gave me all that talk at halftime? I don’t believe this is you.”
Koganei’s jaw clenches, and he cries, “But I have done everything I can! He’s just too good—”
“And when has that ever stopped you?” Izuki keeps his voice quiet and even, but it has the gravity he intended it to - Koga falls silent immediately, eyes wide and riveted on him. “When have you ever backed down from fighting? You don’t know the meaning of giving up. You’ve never cared about whether someone’s better than you. I knew a shooting guard once, just like you, and he had the potential to be the greatest in the world. He was held back because he cared that he was worse than others. But you? You never blinked at it, just practised and practised until you could do the impossible.”
His words are getting louder with pride; he’s unable to keep it steady with the outpouring of emotion in his speech.
“Tell me, who can master Ray Allen’s form in one and a half years? Who can be such a rookie at basketball, yet be able to fight an Uncrowned King and respond to a shot that has left all its previous victims unable to move?!” Izuki leans forward and jabs a finger into Koganei’s chest demandingly. “Tell me, who the hell was that?!”
“Me,” Koga whispers timidly, looking down.
ahhhh yay for more platonic comfort and bonding. *izuki voice* yelling is the way to get ur team to get their shit tgt
chapter 15: born to soar
Izuki finds himself moving, barely thinking as he grabs the ball and bawls for an attack. He’s running faster than he ever has, flying up the court like there are wings on his legs. No one follows at his pace - they’re all too far behind.
No one but Kiyoshi.
The rhythm beats louder than ever, a heavy pulse in Izuki’s head and heart. He can feel Akashi on his heels and knows he needs to do something.
One second left—
Izuki’s hands move on their own, passing the ball to the one person he knows that he will always find.
Kiyoshi catches it and jumps.
Fortyfivethirtyfivetwentyfivefifteen—
The ball leaves his hands.
Fivezero—
The whistle blows to end the game. Kiyoshi’s shot hits the backboard and drops straight into the basket. Time stops as a shrill sound screeches into the air and the ref shouts, “124 to 123, Seirin High wins the Winter Cup!”
there we go. the most heartwrenching scene of this chapter ahhhhh
chapter 16: final flight
“We should go. Don’t want to keep them waiting too long,” Kiyoshi says, staring daggers at Hyūga, who to his credit doesn’t flinch but merely stares back.
“Let’s go, then,” Izuki agrees. He looks straight at Hyūga and allows a small, formal smile to play on his lips. Hyūga just nods, accepting the answer.
Izuki nods back, then turns around and starts walking away. But even as he moves toward the exit, something weighs heavily in his tired chest. For the first time in a long time, he isn’t confident in his decision.
Acting on impulse, he turns on his heel and yells out, “Call sometime, maybe!” before walking backwards out the door that Kiyoshi holds for him.
It’s an open-ended suggestion. Hyūga can choose to wallow and ignore it, or he can choose to pick up the phone. Izuki isn’t going to do so either way - he’ll be happy if Hyūga makes that call, but he won’t be terribly sad if he doesn't.
This time, he’s going to be the one that walks forward without looking back.
ahhh okay so this scene means a hella lot to me personally because... i had to grow, the way izuki grew. izuki’s now strong enough to sort of put the olive branch out and say, “take it or leave it,” and if it’s left he’s not gonna be upset. that’s something i really learned with a lot of difficulty and i think that that growth - in both me and him - is a lovely thing.
and there we have it! my favorite moments from each chapter of this story. *cries in a corner* god i can’t believe it’s over...
THANK YOU FOR THE JOURNEY!
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princegabriel · 4 years
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@lilyistryingherbest requested Chained to a Bed with someone on the Carte Blanche or Damien. Of course, I picked Juno “Listen, when you get tied up as often as I do” Steel. Thank you for the prompt! @badthingshappenbingo 
Snare
by princegabriel/ FaintlyMacabre
Rated: M
Characters: Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev, Jet Sikuliaq, Vespa Ilkay, Rita, Original character
Summary: If, for whatever reason, you were to ask Juno Steel, he would tell you that no, seduction was not his wheelhouse. If he were feeling chatty, he'd probably tell you, without much exaggeration, that back on Mars, a night out had an even chance of ending in a bar fight as in a hookup. He was abrasive, and brash, and naturally unpleasant. 
But under certain circumstances, he can give it a shot. It just may not go as planned.
CW: This one’s kind of a doozy. (Under the cut)
Dubious consent—I'd describe it as uninformed consent on the part of one character, and unenthusiastic consent on the part of the other. Both are deciding to do what they're doing under their own steam, but for sketchy reasons. Also, as part of the plan, Juno drugs the antagonist to knock him out so he'll be out of the way for their heist. I didn't write sexual assault, but Juno experiences a loss of control that he definitely does not want to be experiencing, and panics as a result. The feeling/themes are similar, so if that's a no-go, totally get it, turn back now, take care of yourself! Also, alcohol, references to murder, and canon-typical quippy tone (may be jarring to some readers, given the subject matter).
---
If, for whatever reason, you were to ask me, I’d tell you that no, I’m not exactly a natural seductress. (Also, never ask me that. It’d be weird.) I’m not the type of lady who can charm my way into someone’s bed or even their good graces. I’ve got just enough charisma to be annoying.
Again, don’t ask me. But you know who maybe should have?
Buddy Aurinko.
Maybe if she had, I wouldn’t be lying here, chained to a bed in an unexpectedly swanky hotel room, but really, it wouldn't be fair to put all the blame on Buddy. Let me start at the beginning. My name’s Juno Steel. I was a private eye, who was a cop, who became a thief, and if most of the people I left behind in Hyperion City could see where my life has taken me, they wouldn’t bat an eye. Or if they did, the eye they batted would be mine.
Our crew's on a "relocation" mission to a little satellite hotel orbiting Pluto. The creep who runs this place is kind of a hoarder, and his is the kind of hotel where dreams (and, according to rumor, the occasional interspace traveler) go to die. The job was basically show up, rob a terrible person, get out of dodge. There was just one thing I didn’t like about this plan.
“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” I leaned back against the high top table, holding a drink like a lifeline in one hand and fighting the urge to push away the hair covering my eyepatch with the other.
“It’s because you’re so incredibly charming, love.” I jumped a little. That wasn’t the voice I’d expected to hear.
“Ransom?” I hissed. “Where’s Buddy?”
“Not happy to hear my voice, Juno?” The question was all tease and no hurt. “The captain thought I could use some practice working behind the scenes.”
Well, I knew what that meant. “So, you got bored?”
“When I have you to worry about?” Nureyev quipped. “You’ll forgive me my caution; you do have such a talent for getting into trouble.”
“Which brings me back around to my question.”
“You are playing this role because both Buddy and Ransom are wanted by the Plutonian government, and because the rest of us are unsuited to this kind of undercover work.”
“Big Guy! When did you connect to this line?” I'd nearly choked on my drink when Jet’s voice had rumbled into my head.
“I have been connected this whole time, since I dropped you off.”
“And you didn’t think to say anything?”
“There was nothing to say,” Jet said. “Talking would only have been a distraction.”
“You must admit, you do fit the profile of our mark’s usual type,” Nureyev said. I didn’t have to admit any such thing, but I knew. Osric Salazar, multi-millionaire, hotelier and general misanthropist, liked his partners more rough than refined, more sour than sweet; in the slinky dress that showed off a fair number of my scars and holding a double shot of whiskey that was threatening to vanish into thin air, I fit the type pretty neatly. It was maybe the only thing I’d ever fit into neatly in my life.
“Yeah, yeah, the role was made for me,” I said over the glass. “The part I’m not thrilled about is where I’m the bait.”
“'Bait' is such a strong word, dear,” Nureyev said. “This is really more of a honeypot job.” His voice sounded neutral, but carefully so. To anyone else, I'm sure he would have sounded genuinely calm, but there was something in his diction that made me think he was less assured than he let on.
“Well, either way, I’m pretty much just a piece of meat on a string—”
“The target is approaching on your three o’clock,” Jet cut in. “Do not turn quickly; it appears he is trying to stay in your blind spot.”
I made myself sip at the drink and lean on the table as though I wasn’t about to be ambushed.
“Don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before.” The voice was like honey over coffee grounds, and I probably would have liked it if it hadn’t belonged to the owner of this... fine establishment. The Renegade’s Arms was just far enough from everywhere that people only went there when they had nowhere else to be and just enough of a dive that it wasn’t frequented by anyone rich or flashy enough for people to make a fuss if they vanished.
“There’s a first time for everything,” I said, refusing to turn and look.
“Let’s hope there’s a second one, too.” Salazar walked around the table and into my field of vision, but… a little higher. He was a wall of a person, reminding me of Pilot Pereyra, who’d used their intimidating size and demeanor to cow every would-be opponent into submission for years as mayor. I hoped it would be easier to exploit Salazar’s weakness than it had Pereyra’s; that walk in the desert had been no walk in the park.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said, and ignored the rise of Salazar’s eyebrows as I knocked the rest of my drink back. “You gonna buy a lady a drink?”
“Oh, sugar, it’s on the house.” I tried not to flinch at the hand that Salazar planted on my back, which steered me the short distance to the bar. “Another?”
“Whiskey, neat,” I said, setting the empty glass down on the bar.
“Make it a double,” Salazar told the bartender. “Top shelf.” The bartender nodded and once again, all the bastard’s attention was on me. Great.
“So, what’s a pretty lady like you doing in a place like mine?” Salazar purred. The sound sent chills down my spine, but definitely not in the way Salazar intended. Well, probably.
“Currently, getting drunk for free,” I said. “So, thanks for that.”
“I’d take it as a personal offense to find out that a gorgeous creature like you would ever have to buy his own drinks.”
“If you wait there, I can give you a whole list of people I know who’ve personally offended you,” I said.
“Gorgeous and funny,” Salazar said, looking me up and down in a way that made me want to wash with sandpaper.
I did the next best thing and downed my drink. “Thirsty, too.” Salazar raised a hand and gestured to the bartender, who got me another. “So this is your place?”
“I haven’t exactly made it a secret,” he said, looming closer.
“I hear people do small talk,” I said, “you know, early in their acquaintance.”
“So you’re sticking around?” Salazar said. He was even closer now, and he smelled aggressively like mint and aftershave. It wasn’t terrible, and everything was going according to plan, but knowing who this person was, I felt kind of queasy about it. In my earpiece, barely audible, Nureyev huffed out a short, sharp breath.
“Not like I got anywhere else to go.” I looked down into my drink while I said it, trying to look like like I wasn't angling for anything more than a bed for the night and someone to help me keep it warm.
“I wish I were sorry to hear that,” he said, practically in my ear. “But really, the way I see it? Whoever you’re running from, their loss is my gain.”
I turned to look at him again and all I saw was teeth. I couldn’t help but recall the first time I’d seen Nureyev, when he was just Rex Glass to me, and the smile that looked like he could rip me apart, easy and natural as breathing. This was different. Salazar’s teeth were big and blunt, like tombstones; it would take him some work to tear into you and he’d enjoy it.
Hopefully he’d take my focus on his mouth as interest rather than self-preservation.
I’d told Buddy I was all right to kiss a mark if the job demanded it, and I was. I’d told her I was all right to do more than that if I knew about the possibility beforehand, though hopefully in this case the neurotoxin-laden lipstick I was wearing would do its job before that became an option. Nureyev and I had talked about it—we were both coming at this with our separate and collective baggage, but honestly, I’d thought it would be a harder conversation to have. We decided that if it was the best plan we had and if whoever was on the job was comfortable, it was all aboveboard.
When Salazar pushed the door to his apartment closed and then pushed me up against it to kiss me, though, I couldn’t think of anything but Nureyev on the other side of my earpiece. If he was still there. I definitely wouldn’t blame him if he’d decided to hand it off to someone else.
Salazar kissed like he was fighting, and I grabbed the collar of his shirt so I’d be ready if it swung in that direction. One of his hands slid up my thigh, taking the hem of the dress with it. I stopped him when he got to my hip.
“Not,” I said against his mouth, “doing this against the door.” At the very least, the farther into his apartment we went, the longer he’d be distracted. And it gave the lipstick a few extra seconds to work. Salazar was a big guy, it might take a bit.
The bed was in the next room. It was big, covered in a rich-looking comforter and sheets that probably had some kind of thread count, with a huge ornate headboard, from which hung a—Jesus Christ. He had a pair of cuffs threaded through it. I was starting to rethink the door.
I didn’t get a real good look at it after that because Salazar spun me around and walked me back until my knees hit the edge of the bed. He climbed over me, biting and sucking at my neck, and I had a moment to just hope this lipstick was as unlikely to re-transfer as Buddy said it was, before I felt his teeth moving up to my ear. The ear with the earpiece. The earpiece I was using to stay in contact with my fellow crewmembers for the purpose of robbing the person who was currently getting real familiar with my earlobe.
“Hey, uh, no,” I said, like a professional, “my earring—”
“Oh,” he said, pulling back, and I tried not to sigh with relief. “Let me get that for you.” And he fucking took it off. The only positive side to the situation was that it really was a gorgeous ear cuff with a hidden wireless transmitter and he didn’t seem to suspect. He put it on the bedside table and picked up where he left off. And I thought, “Maybe it’ll be fine, maybe they won’t need to contact me for a while, maybe they get what they need and I sneak out while he’s unconscious and that’s that, job well—” A siren cut off the “done.”
Salazar sighed, hot on my neck. “I hate to leave you here, gorgeous—”
“Then don’t,” I said.
He shook his head. “Nothing else for it.”
“Uh, hey, but wait,” I said. “If the fire alarm’s going off, shouldn’t I be getting out of here too?”
“It’s not the fire alarm,” he said, getting up and smoothing out his clothes. “It’s the burglar alarm.”
Yeah, I’d been afraid of that. “Okay, well, if there are dangerous burglars around, maybe I don’t want to be a sitting duck.”
“Oh, if that’s what you’re worried about, darlin’, don’t be.” He came back and I thought for a second that it had worked, turned out I was pretty good at distractions after all. He took my hands and kissed me, and yeah, I actually felt kind of smug about my performance right up until the cuffs closed around my wrists.
“What,” I said.
“Didn’t want to bring these into play so soon, but we adapt, don’t we, sugar?” he said, with a fucking wink. “I can’t have you running off before I get back. Don’t worry, I’ll lock you up safe as houses.” I wished a house would fall on him.
He took a handgun out of a drawer, waved at me without looking back, and then he was gone. I heard the click of two locks, and that was the last I saw of Salazar.
So now you’re all caught up.
I wait a few seconds before turning my head in the direction of my removed earpiece and saying, “Hey, he cuffed me to the bed, get me out of here.” I have no way of knowing if anyone is responding, or even if they can hear me at all. All I have is this dress, a pair of stupid strappy heels (what is it with Buddy and putting me in six-inch heels?), and zero arm mobility. Well, not quite zero. I look up at the headboard. It isn’t metal, at least, but it doesn’t look cheap either. It’s either wood or painted to look like it, and if it is paint, it's been expertly applied, which points to good quality. If Nureyev were here, he’d have a lockpick in his sleeve or metal-tipped nails or something useful, but he’s not, so I pull myself up to sit against the headboard and start scraping the chain against the back of it to try to wear through.
“That alarm’s still going,” I say through gritted teeth as I try to saw through the headboard. I hope they can hear me, but even if they can’t, it helps to think they might. “Means Salazar's probably knocked out, definitely hasn’t resolved the situation, so I guess you’re still holding your own. In case you’re done before I get out of these, I’m in Salazar’s quarters, the door past the stairs, in the second room. Two locks on the door.” The cuffs are chafing my wrists, but I just clench my fists and try to go faster. “God I hope you get here soon, this is the least efficient way to get out of this but it’s all I’ve got.” The alarm shuts off and instinctively, I stop moving. It’s too quiet to move.
“Damn it, whoever’s listening, say something!” I hiss. I’m getting uncomfortably close to panic. “Yell, come on, just say something!” I feel trapped in these shoes and this dress and these fucking handcuffs and so I start moving again, pulling the chain forward like I could break clean through the damn headboard. It doesn’t work, just like I know it won’t, but I can’t do anything else. I can’t do anything. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.
In the quiet, I hear the locks click and I freeze again. If it’s Salazar… he might suspect I’m part of this. Is he coming back to kill me? I get my legs over the side of the bed just for solid ground underneath me, the smallest illusion of control. It puts my arms at an even more uncomfortable angle, but they were never going to do me any good here anyway.
I can’t hear footsteps, and I don't know what the hell that means. I feel myself start to spiral again until I see Vespa in the doorway with a duffel bag.
“Oh, thank god.” Should have known—of course the assassin’s not going to make a sound. I’m sure I’d feel weirder about her seeing me like this if I weren’t so relieved.
“Where’s the key?” she says, looking right, left, up, right again, checking for… security cameras, maybe?
“I don’t know!” I say. I feel like my body hasn’t caught up to my brain, which hasn’t caught up to my mouth. Adrenaline is still rushing through me—it couldn’t shut itself off the instant I knew I was saved, but I’ve apparently started to autopilot into our usual dynamic. “He didn’t exactly give me a tour. ‘Hey, just to be on the safe side, here’s the key to the cuffs I just surprised you with, also I’m definitely not going to murder you—’”
“Shut up, Steel,” she mutters. She’s already got the drawer of the little side table open and there’s the key. I guess it’s not something he really has to hide. In a second, my wrists are free. “Come on, Sikuliaq’s got the car running.”
I grab the ear cuff and slide it back into place while we get out of there.
“Mistah Steel oh my god please don’t be dead or hurt, say something please,” Rita’s sobbing into my ear.
“Let's go, Steel," Vespa whispers over her shoulder. I nod and let my eye focus on the green shock of her hair to follow her out as I turn my attention back to Rita before I worry her into an early grave.
“Rita,” I say, “Rita, I’m okay. I’m out. Vespa got me.”
“Boss?” she says, sniffling. “That you?”
“It’s me,” I say. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
“Only I could hear you and I was trying to tell you Mistah Jet and Miss Vespa were on their way and you didn’t answer and you sounded so scared—”
Yeah, I don’t want to think about that right now. “I’m okay. We’re headed back to you.” Vespa's taking us out the fire exit, in the opposite direction of the guest area, and there's Jet, just like she said. We get in the backseat and drive away into the night as the last of my adrenaline gives up the ghost and I let the now-familiar smell of the car ground me.
I'm okay. I'm going home.
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Ready for the truth
Summary: Can you do one where growing up Richie and the reader were best friends and she’s the into one he told about him like sling Eddie and when they come back to fight pennywise he sees her instead of penny wise threatening to tell his secret and so he becomes distant with her until she confronts him and he tells her what he saw and she says she would never tell unless he’s ready
‘At least I got Richie to stay’, Ben proudly announces, resting his hands on his hips with a pleased smile on his face.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Richie wanted to leave, but I took care of it.’
Bev and you eyed each other suspiciously, quirking up on eyebrow, and stating in unison; ‘he’s making a runner for it.’
Ben deflates, his best not good enough to convince Richie to fight alongside his closest friends, but you had a pretty good inkling why. Your own experience with Pennywise has you tempting to scramble your things and run for the horizon, but it also made you face facts. Leaving would undoubtedly result in the death of your friends, already one man down by the absence of Stan.
You wished Stan was here, as he was always the one who knew exactly what to say to get Richie out of stupor, but you’ll just have to do.
Back in the summer of 1989, Richie pretended to be scared of clowns, but you knew better. The way his gaze lingered on Eddie a tad too long to play off for laughs, the overdramatic flairs he faked all in the will of a second longer of Eddie’s attention, or the extreme force in which he produced jokes about his libido and all the girls that asked him out on dates. Those were the signs that tipped you off, but anyone who hung around the losers club long enough could tell that Richie’s feelings stretched a lot further than platonic. And vice versa, though Eddie seemed even more oblivious to the heart eyes he made when Richie did something extremely annoying, or funny, or sweet. Longing for each other was basically a day long task.
You’re sure the other losers caught on eventually as well, but you’re also sure that you’re the only loser Richie ever spilled his secret too. Best friends from birth, there wasn’t much you and Richie hid from each other, not even the gross stuff, and secrets were well known facts between the two of you. After Richie’s confession though, things got tense quickly. A heaviness surrounded Richie, and any time you so much as breathed in Eddie’s direction, all the muscles in Richie’s body would tense up, a fight or flight instinct, in case of you tattling on him.
Of course, there was never a hesitation to you that this was going to be kept under locks, per Richie’s request, and you tried to convince Richie of that, but you still felt deep down his trust for you crumpled away, despite not having done anything to justify that. It lasted for two years, until you packed your stuff for college and bid adieu to everyone remaining in Derry; Stan, Richie and Mike.
Returning as an adult brought back the once unbreakable bond forged, and you hoped it was because Richie shed the mantel of doubt around him and had come out. Alas, because the way he reacted around Eddie was no different from all those years ago, the big secret was still secured in a titanium vault, and no improvement was made on the insecurity level. The fortune cookies attacking on it’s own was enough prove of that.
‘Hey Eddie.’
‘The rest of us are fine too Richard, thank you very much.’
Come to think of it, maybe the eye that attacked him was his fear manifesting, every part of him being truly seen is a terrifying idea to anyone, let alone Richie.
Clowns might make Richie Squamish, but there was nothing  that terrified him more than being outed, and Pennywise is sure to exploit that.
You run down two flights at a time, dashing towards the parking lot and Richie’s car, an expensive car that cost more than your apartment and clothes combined.
Your suspicious were confirmed, Richie yanking on the car door handle, his hand trembling so much that the keys slip through the cracks of his fingers and drop down to the floor. You swoop in, fishing them of the ground and dangling them in front of Richie.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Richie grimaces, gripping back the keys from your hand, huffing when you refuse to let go of them.
‘Home, where no killer clown can stalk and kill me. You should do the same.’ His voice is so bland, unlike the Richie you once knew who had the talent to melt different accents and emotions in one pot and challenged you to guess them apart.
You step back, dragging the keys with you and slicing a cut in Richie’s hand on accident, on the opposite hand Bill’s slice was inflicted on.
‘Sorry’, you say instantly, holding them behind your back so there’s no way Richie can steal them.
‘Give me back my fucking keys’, Richie barks, whipping his hand on his leather jacket but refusing to inspect the wound.
‘Excuse me, I don’t know what I did to warrant such a reaction but holy moly Rich, I’m your best friend. Don’t ever disregard me in that way. Can we talk before you decide to get out of here?’
The fire in Richie eyes burns down, but doesn’t answer your question, holding out his hand so you can drop the keys in it.
‘Fucking are you? My best friend?’
You blanch, stepping back once more, the words feeling like a physical slap to the face. ‘I am. Richie I watched you every step of the way until Pennywise stole our memories. Where is this coming from?’
Richie sighs defeated, his hand pressing hard on his eye sockets under his glasses, and he takes one shuddering breath in that is a forebode of crying. Instantly, you drop your defensive attitude and slide an arm around his shoulder, actions working better with Richie then words.
‘What’s going on? You can tell me, you know I’ll listen and do my best to fix it okay?’
‘Yeah you’ll do anything but curse right?’
‘Let it go man, let it go.’
‘No, did you know there’s a movie now, Captain America and he says something like ‘Langue’, because someone else is cursing. That’s you Y/N.’
‘Is it about Eddie? You were stalling again.’ You ask, waiting for the inevitable denial and change of subject, but instead Richie nods his head.
‘Kinda. I guess.’
You nudge him softly, smiling encouragingly to let him know that it’s alright to let everything out he has to say, you’ll never hate him for it.
‘It was you, Pennywise used you to intimidate me.’
A woozy feeling crashes over you, the car serving as something to upright you with. The idea that you’re one of the people to cause the fear in Richie making you wish Pennywise would steal this memory.
‘Me? You’re scared of me?’
‘No, not you. Okay yes. I’m just scared of all the fucking things you know about me.’
It dawns on you that of course Pennywise saw you as Richie’s weakness, a person Richie trust, mostly, only to crush him with abhorrent words and actions.
‘Because I know you’re in love with Eddie?’
‘Not anymore’, Richie weakly adds, but the words lack conviction. ‘You said you told Eddie what a vile monster I am, warning him to stay away from me. Everyone heard about it from Eddie and the internet starting trending about me and I lost everything. Eddie, you, the rest of the losers, my job.’
Richie’s lip snarls up, throwing his head back and staring at the skyline filled with clouds. It’s crazy to think that a town so foal and loathsome still has it’s good spots too. Richie identifies with that, describing himself as someone with a beautiful outer shell, and a rotten inside that ruins anything he touches.
‘I would never ever tell Eddie about this. Or anyone for that matter. Richie, I know we’re all a tight nit group, but you’re my best friend. The person I held on to the longest after leaving. I love you in the most platonic way possible. For the record, if you told Eddie how much you care for him, he’ll reciprocate, but you’re scared and you don’t want to do that and I respect that. This is what Pennywise is aiming for. Us splitting up or being scared of each other. Don’t let him win.’
You elongate as high as you can, balancing on your tip toes to be at the same length as Richie’s sight. It’s a stretch, but Richie helps you by lowering his gaze.
‘I won’t say anything. I’ll do anything to make you believe me. I’ll do another blood oath with you on our other hand? you’ve already got the mark down.’
Richie laughs, ‘Don’t be such an idiot.’
‘Than stop being so paranoid about me. I love you for who you are Rich. A gay, goofy idiot.’
Richie sniffles, embracing you in a tight hug. ‘Thanks’, he murmurs, his entire body trembling in jitters. ‘Now can we please ignore this conversation ever took place?’
‘Are you ready to go back inside?’
Richie stares one more long, elaborated second at the sky and back to his car, and then agrees.
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Of Service (Part 2): A Critical Role Fanfic
....I wasn’t going to do this. I was just going to be a one hit wonder in this fandom...but the fanfic bug has bit me again and demanded hot wizard hanky-panky...so that’s what you are going to get goddamnit. Oh...and hot wizard tragic backstory...but mostly hanky-panky. 
Side note is there some super secret shadowgast chat out there on tumblr or discord or something because I want to be a cool kid someone please invite me
Enjoy!
Read Chapter 1
Read on AO3
Preview:
The moment in the bath had been simply a lapse in judgement due to the desire for intimacy. Essek was stronger than that, stronger then giving in to base instincts. He was strong and had no weaknesses because he had no intimate relationships that could be exploited. If he considered them his friends...or even more...that was a huge target that could be used to manipulate him. Besides, he was no fool. There were no records in the Empire of a man by the name of Caleb Widogast, and based off of what he knew this man was the most dangerous one of the bunch to be close to.
"Mother," Essek greeted, bowing his head in deference to her. Lady Mathulsda Theyless, the Denmother of Den Theyless looked on at him with her silvered gaze. She reminded him often of one of the statues in the Marble Tomes, austere and yet lovely, cool as stone and yet harsh in her composure. "You called for me?"
"Essek," she greeted, turning her face up to kiss his cheek. The brush of her lips was cold and impersonal. "Come, sit." 
Essek did as she wished, sitting in the chair next to her. The Denmother's hand flicked out the bell, calling for the servants. The first servant appeared in a flash with the wine, while the second appeared with charcuterie board. Hilta and Mere, Essek recalled their names easy, both were favored servants of his Denmother. One poured the wine, the other arranged the silverware and plates. Then they both curtseyed elegantly and were out of sight, just as his Mother prefered. 
"A current favorite of mine," Mother said, plucking her glass from the elegantly arranged table. Essek echoed the motion, swirling it and taking an appreciative sniff. "I find the white from this vineyard has such a lovely acidity, and the taste of apples it leaves is quite divine with the rabbit terrine." 
"I suspect this vineyard is your current pet project?" Essek asked, mostly to be polite. Essek already knew the answer. He knew everything that happened in the Den, and his Mother knew it too. This was just another game in the many layers of the game they played. 
"I always love a good project, it is because I am such a kind and giving person," Mother said with a long-suffering sigh, as if Essek could never truly understand the reach of her benevolence. “Truly, without my consideration it would have gone under. It really would have been a crying shame.”  
"You bought them out from right under Den Sedern's nose, through a secret channel," Essek pointed out to her, not willing to indulge in this particular savior fantasy of hers. 
"It was hardly from under their nose. The son was so lovely, you know, and so understanding," Mother said with an imperious sip. "He seemed to enjoy the transaction well enough. Hilta and Mere certainly earned their extra wages." 
"Sending the help to seduce a farmer," Essek said, unable to help the way his lips curled in disgust. "That's low, even for you." 
"It's all politics. Den Theyless cannot be outbid by some secondhand Den, even in something as minor as business interests. It would make us look weak. We also cannot be seen playing a game with some secondhand house, others might think it puts us on their level. Therefore we use the advantages we have," Mother said simply, giving him a look. "But you are still new at this. I can see how it might be concerning to you, though the trading of one's body for profit should not be all that surprising to you of all people, Essek." 
"What is that supposed to imply?" Essek asked, his tone light, but inside he felt something grate against his well-worn polite mask.  
"If you desire intimacy, I don't care where you get it from. But those Empire spies? Really? I would have thought I had taught you better than that." 
"Intimacy? I have not been intimate with any of them. The Bright Queen's order was to observe the Mighty Nein, ingratiate myself to them and ingratiate them to the Empire. All of this and more in order to suss out their allegiance." 
"And you have done an outstanding job," Mother stated before her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "I've heard you've especially ingratiated yourself to the human wizard." 
Essek didn't clench his teeth, or shout, or stamp his feet, or hiss that she didn't know what she was talking about. Instead, Essek smiled. 
"I learned all of my tricks from you," he stated. He took a sip from his own glass. "This really is a lovely wine. Well worth the effort I should think, though,  lacking a certain personal touch that you are known for. I’m sure Lord Densil would agree with me, though Father may not." 
That was mostly a low blow. Everyone knew that Denmothers had absolute authority, and their marriages--though it was a sacred eternal bond in the eyes of the Luxon--did not bind them to one partner. It was still a sore spot. Especially since Mother hadn't yet disclosed to Father of the affair. That in itself was a bad sign. 
“Wretched brat,” Mother snapped, her eyes bright with anger. Essek just continued to smile placidly in the face of her rage.  
“I care not for your personal affairs, Mother. Just as I should hope you don’t care about mine.”  
“Is that a threat?” Mother asked, lifting her glass for another sip, eyeing him with an unreadable expression. 
“No more than in any other conversation we have, Mother,” Essek told her with a wave, as he took a sandwich from the platter. "I really do value and enjoy these little chats we have." 
"You are my child, so take this piece of advice. Go make some acceptable playmates that will bode well in court, not ruffians and spies from the other side of the conflict," Mother said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I worry that your lack of meaningful socialization with your own peers is what is causing the lack of judgement." 
"I am not in my first decade. Please don't call them playmates," Essek said lightly, trying not to fume over this blatant infantilism. He hated when she did this, and that's why she did this. It was a cheap and easy button of his to push. 
"Then get married!" Mother chastised. 
"I shall do what I please in that regard, Mother," Essek informed her cooly. 
"Stubborn," Mother scoffed. "It'll be your undoing one day."
"Like you said, I learned from the best." 
------------
"I suppose a question about the meeting with your Denmother is in order?" Skysybil asked, eyeing him sideways. They were both standing in the throne room, awaiting the meeting with the head of the Echo knights. Though they still did not like each other, there was at least an ounce of respect they gave each other. This much, allowed Essek to be somewhat honest with her. 
"She called me a brat, and interrogated me about my relationships," Essek said, folding his hands within his sleeves. "So as you can imagine, it was a normal visit." 
"Well, take comfort in the fact that you are indeed the most insufferable brat that I have ever had the misfortune of knowing in my long storied life," Skysybil scoffed. "But that's what makes you an effective Shadowhand." 
"I shall take your compliment into consideration," Essek said with his best saccharine smile. 
"What relationships was she interrogating you about? You have no friends," Skysybil observed.  
"I have friends," Essek said with a sidelong glare. 
"Your employees all love you, this we all know. But you are not friends with them. You are aloof and testy." 
Essek was about to open his mouth to argue with her, when the Echo Knights arrived and the meeting began in full swing. It was the usual updates on the movements along the border, and the generals were extremely interested. However, Essek already knew the pertinent information. A shadow left him a report on each general's movement every day. This was all a formality for Essek, which allowed his thoughts to wander just a bit. 
Friends. He supposed the Skysybil and his Denmother were both right. He didn't have friends, or even casual acquaintances. It only annoyed him when other people pointed it out. 
It reminded him of his birth mother. Or rather, it made him miss her. To her, he hadn't been wretched or aloof or insufferable, he had been precocious and shy. His face wasn't just one more advantage to levy in his favor, but a thing to be kissed softly and told how much like his father he looked. Even if Essek had grumbled about it he wouldn't have moved away. His power hadn’t been feared and talent coveted, but instead it was a gift from the Luxon. 
He didn't like to think of his birth mother. He had only had her for fifteen years...less time then he had been in Den Theyless. Rationally Essek also knew that the bonds of a den claim were stronger than that of blood and birth. If his mother had lived to see his consecution or initiation into Theyless, she would have been the one to prepare him in the ceremonial clothes and then gave him to them without a second thought. Even if she hadn't, which she wouldn't have, his mother would have been powerless to stop it. But...she had loved him. It had made losing her unbearable, and it had made him reckless and unafraid. Made things like jumping off a roof to escape have little consequence, for Essek was the only one who cared about what happened to Essek.  
They hate me, Essek had sobbed once, burying his face in his mother's thin, patched skirt. The other children who had refused to speak to him, pretended he was invisible, had been too much. They had been his friends, and then had decided he was different, and Essek hadn’t known what he had done to make them think that but it had been like a death sentence. 
As long as you show them who you really are, they'll grow to love you as I do, his mother had said as she ran her fingers through his hair delicately. It was sweet, gentle advice. She had required so little of him and loved him so deeply, so fiercely, so completely  in return. It hadn’t mattered that she fed him her crusts of bread and she went to bed with a hollowness in her belly, or people slipped coins into her hands as they left the hovel while Essek sat outside and waited. None of it mattered for when he had learned to make lights dance or could cast prestidigitation to clean their battered bowls, she had been so proud. He had been her blessing, not her burden. 
But no matter what he did, no one else saw what she had seen in him. They had seen something else. It hadn’t been long after that, when he was standing over the corpse of the first man he had killed with a vampiric touch, he realized that his mother had to have been the exception. He hadn’t felt anything besides a cool sort of satisfaction, knowing that he was more powerful than the man who had tried to kill him for the few coins in his pocket. The others had all been right about him in the end. He had just thanked the Luxon that his mother hadn’t had to see him that way. He was grateful that he could live a life knowing that he had never broken his mother’s heart. 
Essek didn’t need friends, he also didn’t need anyone else to love him. He had the trust of the Bright Queen, which had to count for more than any of the rest combined. And Essek had once had love, even if he didn’t have it anymore. It had been a precious gift that he would remember and cherish for the rest of eternity, and he thanked the Luxon for bestowing it upon him...no matter how brief it had been. The strange ache of loneliness he felt on occasion was nothing but a response he could rise above, precipitated by the Mighty Nein and being integrated into their routines. 
They functioned similarly to a Den in some ways. There were roles assigned to each member, responsibilities that each worked to achieve. They had no Denmother, per se, but the analogy didn’t need to align perfectly. But in other ways, their actions were alien to Essek. They weren’t like one of the high ranking Dens, there was no vying for privileges or levying of secrets for profit, no incessant backstabbing or racing to the top to try to earn the favor of the Denmother, to be named heir apparent, to be given honor by the Bright Queen. (Though they had long since been freed from the shackles of their service to the Spider Queen, many aspects of internal politics still were soaked of Her influence, that was part of the reason the Shadowhand existed for the Bright Queen.) Essek had no personal experience with family-Dens, the dens of the middle and low class drow who lived as generations of families.  So he figured the Mighty Nien may be more closely related to that sort of structure. 
Or...they could all just be friends. They didn’t close ranks, they invited people in the fold as easy as breathing. He had seen that with the golden aasimar girl they had brought to their home, or in the stories he was told about a gnome-girl with twigs in her hair, or a half-dragon sorceress, an ill-fated kobold, or a wizened cleric who belonged to the ranks. He had even experienced it first hand with their incessant invitations. 
Perhaps he was just being soft on them, for offering something so easily that had eluded Essek for so long, even if he couldn’t personally indulge in it. The panic that he had felt after realizing how rude he had been to them, it was all because he hadn’t wanted to lose their trust. There couldn’t be any other explanation for why he had been so relieved when they had accepted his apology. His mission from the Bright Queen was absolute. He would aim to maintain a respectful distance...no more...whatever that had happened with Caleb that he had refused to think about. The moment in the bath had been simply a lapse in judgement due to the desire for intimacy. Essek was stronger than that, stronger then giving in to base instincts. He was strong and had no weaknesses because he had no intimate relationships that could be exploited. If he considered them his friends...or even more...that was a huge target that could be used to manipulate him. Besides, he was no fool. There were no records in the Empire of a man by the name of Caleb Widogast, and based off of what he knew this man was the most dangerous one of the bunch to be close to. 
Essek thought on this throughout the rest of the twilight hours, pacing furiously in his office until he had worked up a cold sweat. Angry with himself, and with the echo of his heartbeat beginning to pound a dull ache in his spine, he called his servant to draw up a bath. The top of the water swirled with the fragrant oil, peppermint and lemongrass. He didn’t wait for it to cool, or mind the tub of cold water, but instead got in. He hissed between his teeth at the heat, punishing enough to still his thoughts and distract from his back. It was too hot.  
The echo of Caleb’s hands on his back making him bite the inside of his mouth. He could feel the fingers brushing his skin, scorching him like licks of fire. He could sense Caleb’s breath on his shoulder, raising goosebumps on his skin. 
Stop it, Essek ordered his unruly thoughts, his nails digging into the edges of the tub. This heat wasn’t Caleb’s, the scent of the water wasn’t Caleb’s, and there certainly wasn’t anyone else in the tub that would remind him of Caleb. If he was subjected to this every time he ended up taking a bath then he would be at a loss. Better to desentize now. 
He didn’t even know why he was all out of sorts. All he wanted was to make this go away--
That can be easily remedied, came the voice from the twisted clinical part of his brain. The Shadowhand part of his brain. How long has it been since you have had a tryst? Since you've allowed yourself to have even the most basic of physical relief? Of course you are reacting like this, it would have happened because of anyone. Caleb isn't special. Do this quickly, get it out of your system. 
He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to admit this weakness. It was because he was young, and too emotional, and too much of everything. By doing this, he was just proving his Denmother and everyone else right about him. But by the time he wrapped his fingers around his cock, he was already half-hard. He shuddered as he stroked himself to full, impatient and angry and his blood running far too hot in his veins. It wasn’t enough, he thought, tensing desperately. He wanted more, he wanted--
“Essek,” Caleb sighed into his skin, lips brushing his shoulder in the barest press of a kiss. 
“Oh Luxon,” Essek gasped, letting his head tip back, the harsh grip loosening until it was something sweet and caring and everything. He felt the tender stroke of Caleb’s fingers on the hollow of his hip. 
“Show me, Essek,” Caleb bid him, voice filled with warmth. “Don’t hide from me.” 
A moan caught in his clenched teeth, with no input from his own mind his legs spread further apart. Essek felt light headed as hands trailed up his flank soothingly as he raced closer and closer to the edge as fingers dipped in oil reached in--thicker and rougher than his, Caleb’s hands on his body he couldn’t forget it…he had wanted to forget it! 
“I want you to tend to me, teach me what it is you desire” Caleb whispered, mouth eager as it traced the curve of his ear, making him twitch. 
His own nail scraped his inner thigh, as a punishment--or a reminder. Which one Essek couldn’t even remember as sweat broke out along his hairline. He was rocking into his hand, the hand that Caleb had touched, and he had tainted it--but Caleb wanted to see this and Essek wanted Caleb to see him, Essek wanted. 
“Nngh--!” 
He couldn’t even brace as he came, the pleasure wracking his whole body with release. Hot, dewey, and full became numb and cool. He was laying on the floor of the bathroom, shivering in the moonlight and breathing fast. 
Ugh, he couldn’t help but think, throwing an arm over his eyes. He was in trouble. 
------------
Essek was finishing his paperwork when Beauregard cleared her throat. Essek looked up at her, inspecting her expression. Beauregard wore discontent like her armor, and threw her snark out like a weapon. A bad mood was a constant, dynamic, and evolving state for her. Though it didn’t always make her pleasant to be around, he enjoyed her no nonsense straight to the punch attitude. He figured more people could use a little more of that in their lives, though she seemed to have cornered the market. 
“So, hot boi, when are you ever gonna let us into the damn library?” Beauregard demanded shortly, kicking her feet up onto the table. Essek had half a mind to chastise her for her behavior, fairly certain that it wasn’t customary in the Empire, but also enjoyed not having to duck under a punch. Besides, he was fairly sure that people she cared about far more than him had probably tried to speak to her about her behavior and failed, why should she care about what he thought?
“I didn’t know you found me so aesthetically pleasing, I’m flattered,” Essek said as he closed his book. He summoned his pocket dimension, placing it within, before closing it with a swirl of his fingers. 
"Now you are just showing off," Beau said with a signature scowl. 
"I certainly am not, in fact, I am merely absorbing your compliment." 
“Come on dude, you know that you are hot. Everyone knows you are hot. Even I know you are hot, you know, for a dude. And I'm not even into dudes," Beau stated. "That fake modest thing you are doing isn't cute." 
"I am the picture of modesty," Essek said as he took a sip from his tea cup. "Caduceus, this is a lovely blend." 
"Aw, that's so nice of you to say," the firbolg hummed, sticking his head out from the kitchen before ducking back in. 
"Want a shot with it?" Nott asked, holding up her impressively large and shiny flask. Within it sloshed liquor of a questionable color as she poured in about two shots worth to her own mug. 
"I will abstain, but I appreciate it," Essek said with a bow of his head. 
"He's never gonna let you in the library, you see how he just totally deflected you," Nott snickered. Beau opened her mouth, snapped it shut, and then shot up. 
"You are totally right, not cool Essek!" Beau nearly whined. Essek blinked at her childish tone and Nott's deft ascertainment of the situation. She was cunningly,  and unlike most goblins he had dealings with. It gave him pause. 
"It's because he's a spy," Nott pointed out, taking a generous gulp of her flask and chasing it down with her tea-cocktail. He had never seen anyone chase a shot with another drink, but there was a first time for everything. "Don't feel bad for being dense." 
"I'm not dense motherfucker," Beau said, though her voice was tinged with humor. 
"Sure you're not," Nott scoffed with a conniving expression. "But speaking of…I have a question for you Essek." 
Essek inclined his head. 
"How do you think Caleb is doing...with his studies?" Nott asked, her tone sweet and trying very hard to be innocuous. Essek couldn't help but feel his lips pull at his mouth in a half-smile. "It is too bad he's shopping right now, but I know he'll be excited to see you. Are you planning on teaching him again today?" 
"Caleb is a talented student," Essek said. "He picks up the minutiae of the arcane easily, and doesn't falter where many beginners might. He has a certain reverence for the material, which drives him to succeed." 
"Oh, I see, so you enjoy teaching him?" Nott asked hopefully. 
"I do not do anything that I do not desire to do," Essek informed her, taking a sip from his tea cup. "But of course, I do enjoy teaching him."
"But do you enjoy teaching him or is that cryptid wizard language for fucking," Beau asked bluntly. Essek couldn't help rapidly blinking at the sudden turn in conversation. Honestly, it was so jarring that he couldn't even react. 
"Beau! You don't just ask people if they are fucking!" Nott hissed before her eyes darted to Essek. "I mean...are you?" 
"And you said I'm rude! You don't just get to piggyback on my question after telling me off!" Beau demanded with a jabbed finger. 
"Oh come on! Now I'm curious!" Nott screeched. 
Essek settled his cup down on the table, looking between the two ladies. At the sound, they stopped their badgering and began to stare at him. 
"We are not, as you so eloquently put it, fucking," Essek said simply. "It would be a compromise to my position, as well as be inappropriate for many other reasons." 
"Are you like, super old or something?" Beauregard asked. 
"I'm young, actually. I'm only one hundred and forty." 
"Wait...a hundred is young for elves?" 
"We claim adulthood at one hundred, yes. I would be...well, equivalently I would be in my twenties in human years, though it isn't exactly a direct comparison and I have lived for over a hundred years so--" 
"Holy shit! I thought Dairon was...like, old and wizened. She's my age! What?" Beauregard demanded. 
"She's good friends with...our...cleaning lady," Nott said, cringing all the while. 
"Of course," Essek said, though of course he made a note to himself to investigate that little thread later. 
"I think he means like, moral reasons," Nott stated. 
"You not into dick or something?" Beau asked. "I mean, I can relate but, you sort of strike me as someone who's into dick. Caduceus, is not being into dick a moral thing?"
"I don't think that has anything to do with morals. I think it's more...the body," Caduceus offered from the other room, low timber carrying through easily. "The Wildmother doesn't care, I don't see why other Gods would." 
"Beau! You don't just ask people if they're into dick! I mean, uh, unless--" 
"Considering we just had a very similar conversation all of a minute ago, I will ask that we please stop this line of questioning," Essek said, holding up his hand. 
"Right...right," Nott said with a grave nod. 
It was on that note that the front door rang with the bells. 
"Hey guys," Fjord greeted, looking somewhat exhausted. "Oh, hello Shadowhand. How are you?" 
"Very well, and you."
"Doing fine, Caleb will be in shortly, he had to go pick something up." 
He offered his hand in a shake, and Essek took it. Jester danced in behind him, tail swishing as she did. 
"Hallo Essek!" Jester chirped, grasping his hand. Her eyes sparkled like she had a delightful secret she just couldn't wait to tell him, as her mouth curled on a charming little smile. "And how are you doing today?" 
"Very well, thank you. I hear you went shopping."
"Oh I found the most wonderful bakery! They have these little caramel tarts that are shaped like spiders and bugs! It's so very creeeepy," Jester said with a coquettish little wiggle. "Would you like some? We can have them with tea!" 
"Thank you, but no thank you. I will let Uska know of your compliment." 
"You know the lady who runs the bakery?" Jester asked excitedly. 
"I make it a habit to know all that my Queen prefers. She patronizes that bakery as well." 
"You are very thoughtful Essek." 
"It is my job to be the most thoughtful person in the city." 
It was at that moment that Caleb appeared, a package crafled to his chest and his familiar draped around his shoulders. His head turned to the side, and the familiar butted its face against his, catching his cheek with the side of its face. The action was so tender that it was arresting and he felt foolish for burning with jealousy over a familiar of all things. Except he wasn’t jealous, not at all, Essek reminded himself. 
“Forgive me for my tardiness,” Caleb apologized, somewhat out of breath. His hair was tousled from the wind and barely held back by his hair-tie, and his cheeks and the tip of his nose were ruddied by the cold weather. Caleb was always disheveled, but there was something particularly provincially charming about this picture. 
“It is fine, no harm done,” Essek said as he rose from his seat. “Feel free to get settled, and we’ll begin our lesson for today.” 
He cast a pointed look to Beau and Nott, who both looked suspiciously in other directions as if they had no clue why he would be annoyed with them. He went to Caleb’s study, where he prepared the scroll he had brought for the day as well as the materials necessary for casting. Caleb entered the room, closing the door delicately as if to keep from disturbing Essek. The familiar plodded into the room before jumping up on the desk and taking residence on the pillow that was placed there.
Essek explained the spell and the use, before giving Caleb time to copy the spell into his worn spellbook. Caleb always tapped his quill three times before he used it on the lip of the inkwell, and his penmanship with nearly flawless in its execution of the runes. Essek pretended to bide his time with pursuing the stacks of books but instead he was caught in the way Caleb’s dark long eyelashes caught on the candlelight, or how sometimes he would mind his lip as he seemingly considered something. The others came up, stating that they were going to visit a nearby tavern for dinner, and then took off without Caleb even lifting his head from his work. 
He was considering the next rune with particular focus, and Essek leaned beside him. He noticed, for a moment, Caleb’s shoulders tense. Essek noted the scent of blackcurrant beneath the soot. 
“Are you having any trouble?” 
“No, it’s just that this rune is very different,” Caleb said, tracing the swirl upon the page with a deft motion. Essek followed the movement of his fingers, of his hands closely. 
“It’s a more recent development. The rune itself has its basis in Old Undercommon,” Essek explained, taking his hand and moving it through the geometric pattern of the center. “You’ll often see that with new Dunamantic magic, the use of Old Undercommon as basis.” 
“Why that?” Caleb asked, tracing the pattern after Essek with his beautiful hands. He felt his throat strangely dry out. 
I touched myself thinking of your hands last night, came the intrusive not at all welcome conceit. 
“A reclamation of our past,” Essek said instead. “A very interesting cultural phenomenon at the moment, mostly caused by the war. A desire to design our past around the plan of the Luxon for us, and by doing so, allowing people to have pride in the collective history of the Dynasty despite our grave past mistakes.” 
“And do you believe that?” Caleb asked, looking at him. His eyes were a powdery blue, soft and curious and shining brightly in the lowlight. 
“The Luxon blessed and raised our Queen, but it is impossible to know the will of the gods,” Essek said as he sat back down. “Though, I do not believe in rewriting mistakes, that means you do not have to learn from them. Learning from one’s mistakes is one of the most valuable things that life has to offer. For example, it is important to grapple with the fact that the drow were once servants to the Spider Queen, and to know we rose above that through the effort of the Bright Queen and countless others. Though, of course, I cannot relate as I never make mistakes.” 
“That I do not believe,” Caleb said with a strangely melancholic smile. 
“Believe what you’d like.” 
“Smug,” Caleb said, more to himself than to Essek, with a fond smile. He said it like Essek’s smugness was a good thing, like he liked it. And why wouldn’t he? There was plenty that Essek liked about Caleb, his hands, the way the hollow of his throat looked bathed in soft light, how when his blue eyes were focused they were like the hottest of flame--
Caleb crashed against him like a wave of motion. Whatever Essek had imagined when he thought of kissing Caleb was struck away because this was so much better. His mouth nearly scalded his as he moved against him, Essek finally buried his fingers in Caleb’s hair and found it soft and so easy to grab but he wanted to touch more, to explore more of the skin that had been branded to the inside of his mind--
“Godsver--get this off!” Caleb snapped impatiently, between kisses and trying to yank the clasp of his mantle. 
“If you ask nicely,” Essek purred, pulling the buttons of Caleb’s shirt, sure that he popped a few in his attempt to taste more of Caleb’s skin. 
“Please,” Caleb begged, kissing Essek again, his bruising kiss gentling on the request. “Oh Gods, please let me touch you.” 
“Of course, since you’ve asked so nicely,” Essek said, undoing the internal hook and letting it fall off his shoulders. In the moment were Caleb let it fall, he felt so cold, but immediately it was replaced by the hot press of their bodies together. It was strange, because without his flotation spell he was a whisper shorter than Caleb, and it was so arousing to have Caleb look down at him with such desire. Though the urgency was tempered, only when Caleb saw Essek’s back-brace. “Ah...for my back. It helps support and reduces the pain…” 
“Would it hurt you, to take it off?” Caleb asked, nipping at Essek’s ear and making him shiver, peppering kisses upon his neck and shoulder. 
“Mm...perhaps,” Essek said, not willing to lie. He wanted to fuck Caleb, not be debilitated by pain. But at the same time it was hard to think of the consequences because he wanted this so badly.  “If we are in a position that puts pressure on my spine.” 
“Then we shall be mindful, ja?” Caleb said, tossing his pants aside, letting Essek soak in the sight of them. Really, they were lovely.  
“I suppose we must,” Essek sighed against Caleb’s mouth, as Caleb tugged them into his bedroom. He didn’t want to be mindful, he wanted to be as reckless and as young as he felt, but Essek supposed this wasn’t a perfect world. Besides, Caleb’s hands on him felt so good that he could forget almost everything. 
Their bodies were pressed together then, impatient and yearning for more touch, more heat, more everything. The slick delicious grind as Caleb moved against Essek, and Essek parted his legs for him. Caleb whimpered into an open-mouthed kiss as Essek, curled his legs around his waist, hooking him and bringing him closer. Essek’s fingers caught on scars and divots in his skin, mapping Caleb’s body so he could remember this. Remember this, Essek told himself sternly. Remember him. 
“Essek,” Caleb gasped against Essek’s shoulder, and Essek tightened his grip around them. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” Essek groaned, hurtling towards the edge just as quickly. 
Caleb groaned and buried his head against Essek’s shoulder, body shuddering with release. And it was because of Essek, and that was enough to make him lightheaded and proud. Caleb peppered Essek’s face with languid kisses that trailed down until he took Essek into his mouth. It would have been embarrassing, just how quickly Caleb managed to undo him. But how could he not be undone, considering the way Caleb’s half-lidded eyes burned into him, with how satisfied and unhurried he looked? 
His back arched as his body gave in to its desires, the pulse of pain being chased by the throes of pleasure. He was left boneless, sweating, and completely content. Caleb shifted next to him, laying down with a huff. Essek traced the curve of his shoulders, noting the marks he had left there. Mine, he thought. Mine. 
“Here,” Essek said as he motioned and flicked his fingers, casting prestidigitation. He sat up, stretching, grateful to longer be sticky...though it had been a pleasant sticky. Caleb was laying on his belly, hugging a pillow, and looking up at him with a soft, admiring expression that made him shiver. It was so similar to the one he had given when his mouth had been on his cock. 
“Truly, the way you cast is elegant,” Caleb said, reaching his hand out as if to trace the motion. Essek caught it, holding his large hand in his own, before kissing Caleb’s palm. Caleb’s intake of breath was more than satisfactory. 
“Just the way I cast? Widogast, I am surprised and disappointed with you, there is nothing I do that is not elegant,” Essek said with a preening smile as he sat up. 
“That I can believe,” Caleb sighed, fingers tracing up Essek’s thigh. Essek hummed in agreement. 
“I suppose we must get dressed again,” Essek said as Caleb pressed a kiss to his knee, and then to his thigh, fingers smoothing over his skin in such a delightful way as he pulled up from where he was lying. 
“Yes, though, I’m sure it would delight Jester to find us...so indisposed,” Caleb chuckled, pressing a kiss to Essek’s cheek. 
“Don’t remind me of your friends right now,” Essek said with a roll of his eyes. 
“They bother you...but it’s because they want for you to be their friend as well,” Caleb pointed out. 
“Is that what we are? Friends?” Essek asked. “I wasn’t aware you fuck your friends. Is that common practice in the Empire?” 
“This I cannot comment on, I’m rather new to friendship myself. But they care about you, in their own strange ways.” 
“I highly doubt that,” Essek said, inspecting Caleb’s loose red curls and that was why he wasn’t meeting Caleb’s gaze. “I’m terrible company.”
“That I disagree with,” Caleb chuckled into Essek’s skin. “Besides, I find myself to be terrible company, and they like me well enough. I’m still getting used to...being friends, but despite everything I would recommend it.” 
“Knock that off or I’ll punish you myself for your insolence,” Essek warned him, pinching his cheek. Caleb made a face, and it was charming because he hadn’t realized that Caleb could be silly. It was another delightful thing about him...something else Essek could get attached too. 
“Of course, whatever you wish,” Caleb said, leaning down. With a tender motion, he pushed Essek’s bangs from his forehead and pressed a sweet kiss there. Essek shoved him lightly, praying to the Luxon that Caleb couldn’t tell just how badly he was blushing. Somehow, despite everything, this was what affected him the most. 
How typical, Essek thought, thoroughly annoyed at himself. Get it together Essek. 
Caleb didn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil, and instead gave him a closed mouth smile that danced in his eyes. 
Essek wondered what it would take to make Caleb look at him like that again. That’s how he knew he was in even more trouble than he had first anticipated. 
27 notes · View notes
girllovescomic · 4 years
Text
Winter Begonia episode 3
This episode opens with the audience waiting on our little divo.  Minister Jin asks Boss Niu whether SXR has found a replacement for the violinist.  If not, he will make good on his threat. Weasel Dengbao repeats what Minister Jin said to his dad, like the man was not sitting right next to the corrupt politician.  The father replies if that is not exactly what he wants, to which Asian Crispin Glover bemoans that he is not that cruel. 
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Meanwhile, Fan Lian acting like the typical fan wants to know what to know what SXR will be playing.  CFT like the good boyfriend he will become says that whatever his bae plays will be excellent.  Can I have my own Er Ye?  
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Our pouty lips divo finally arrives on stage holding a Chinese violin.  Everyone is intrigued, wondering if he can actually play the instrument.  Daddy weasel Jiang explains that it takes hundred days to learn the dizi, a type of Chinese bamboo flute, a thousand days to learn the xiao (Chinese vertical flute) and ten years to be experienced enough to play the huqin/Chinese violin.  I guess all these instruments are used in the opera.  This worries Niu Bao Lan who clearly cares for our lil penguin. 
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But no worries, our boy is a musical genius and he showcases it by playing the violin expertly, much to the dismay of the Jiang pair.  Fan Lian is obviously amazed by how talent his idol is, while CFT is all smiles and heart eyes.  Like bro, can you be more obvious in your fawning over your crush? He confirms what SXR had told him about being a hero.
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Looking at his bae with open admiration.  Xirui share the wealth, sis!
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Dengbao is clearly not happy that SXR will now be even more popular because of his prowess, but daddy tells him not to fly the white flag just yet.  SXR must have a weakness and they will find a way to exploit it. 
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 Indeed, they find a way to manipulate SXR’s self-righteousness and stubbornness by loudly giving away the slush fund to Minister Jin’s secretary.  
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It is obviously a trap to push the impetuous young man to make a major faux pas. Just as Daddy Jiang predicted, SXR decides to go back to the stage and sing an opera, as a laosheng (an older male role, something he hasn’t done in a while) about a corrupt Ming Dynasty minister who stole money from the empire. 
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The crowd is clued in of the opera’s implication, including Fan Lian.  CFT, the opera novice, meanwhile is unaware of it and even claps thinking it is just a good performance.  When Fan Lian explains it to him, he even more impressed at how gutsy his crush is.
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Hero gaze activated.  Anyone who touches bae will get the beating of his life.  I swear his attention perks up whenever someone threatens his lil penguin!
Minister Jin tells his secretary to send some guys after SXR.. Our little divo is no slouch in the martial arts department and is able to escape.  His dashing hero is waiting for him in the car and invites him to hop in.  
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Minister Jin is surprised that SXR was able to slip through his fingers, but decides to not pursue him all the way to the opera house, not wanting to waste time on someone so insignificant.  Oh boy, if you only knew who is future boyfriend was!  Talking about boyfriend, CFT praises his lil divo’s martial arts skills; of course, SXR boasts that he is skilled in both singing and kung fu, without a hint of humility.  CFT asks if his little act was to his satisfaction and of course, Xirui answers in the affirmative.  CFT lets him know that his act will have consequences since he drew the ire of a powerful man by exposing his bad deeds and this matter will not be let go.  Xirui asks CFT what he should in that case.  CFT tells him he cannot do it alone, he will need help and then explains why Minister Jin tried to embezzled the money.  Apparently it is not really about the money, but about securing his position in Beiping against the juggernaut that is Commander Cao.  Unfortunately this flies over Xirui’s head who is probably looking at Er Ye’s beautiful profile and thinking of a few operas he wants to sing for him. Or how lucky he has found such a sexy daddy. Oh, I wish I was in your place sweetie. CFT promises he will take care of the situation for him and offers food, which he seems to know it’s something his crush understands. Then they gaze into each other’s eyes with Er Ye smiling softly and holy shit, like the gaze actually last more than a second! How this past censorship, I will never know.   
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Xan Er Ye gaze at me like that too
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We see Minister Jin acting like the pompous ass he is, walking down the street with his loot.  Someone shoots at his hat, creating a diversion to take said loot, which he realizes too late. 
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Ohh so that is CFT’s plan, as we see his crew bring back the money.  He tells them to send it to the anti-Japanese coalition. This little act sinks Minister Jin who is accused of corruption and loses his fight against Commander Cao without the latter raising a finger.  
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This obviously does not sit well with weasel Dengbao who complains, like the little bish he is, to his father.  Apparently, Xirui found another opera house to perform; it’s a popular house that has hosted many big opera performers (jue’er). His father tells him that they may not have to lift a finger, others will do the heavy lifting for them in dealing with Xirui.  He lets him on a secret about the so-called bad blood between Commander Cao and Xirui back when they were in Pingyang.   
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Weasel Cao decides they need to spill the tea about the situation 
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The next day, Xirui and his troupe come into the opera house and find Dengbao’s troupe, Longchun Troupe, in their space and the cattiness ensues.  I swear, it feels like watching the backstage of a theater or Hollywood, where rival actors get in each others’ faces for some primetime. 
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Dengbao sneers, telling Xirui the opera house is now his territory. Whatever Asian Mr. World. There’s a staredown which is interrupted by the opera house manager.  
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SXR demands an explanation for basically reneging on their agreement. The manager tells them he has his reasons for doing so, but if they want to perform they can take the morning spot, which is basically relegating a rising star, like Beyonce, to be the opening act instead of the primetime act, which is a major downgrade.
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  Not only that, but it will be doing so until another performer, who is currently sick, returns.  Best girl Xiao Lai tells SXR to find another spot to perform, offended by the obvious downgrade.  
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The manager lets them know that other houses will probably turn them down. It turns out that removing Minister Jin in favor of Commander Cao has made his previous encounter with the warlord resurface and no one wants to deal with this hot mess, in fear they will draw the wrath of Beijing’s new boss.  SXR looks at Dengbao and I believe he realizes this was his doing.
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He discusses the matter with sexy crush while eating a steak like a country girl at a fancy debutante ball.  He tells CFT that the gossip is blown out of proportion; he doesn’t really have any feud with the commander. It turns out the commander wanted to keep the troupe as its personal entertainment, which goes against SXR wish of performing on stage. After all, the stage is everything for him.  He refused to continue singing, which led the commander to threaten him with a gun.  Our little divo showed his backbone, not flinching a tiny bit while feeling the cold barrel pressed against his head. . Xirui tells CFT that all the other things are unfounded gossips, there is nothing more between them.  A sidenote, in the novel, SXR was actually Commander Cao’s boy toy, which drew Meixin’s jealousy, forcing SXR to hide in his room to avoid her. He left for the same reason. Like a good boyfriend, CFT shows his understanding of the situation, replying that no one else was there so people ran with the gossip.  Xirui sees the people who believes the rumors as brainless, and I have to agree with him on this.  Even in modern time, people will believe whatever they want to believe about celebrities without using logic.
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Can we take time to see how beautiful Yin Zheng look here?
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Sexy CFT agrees and even brings up the fact that if the rumors were true, SXR would have been six feet under.  He knows his BIL very well.  Unfortunately, this does not change the fact that people will believe the gossip especially if the parties involved do not clarify the situation. CFT offers to remedy the situation by inviting SXR to sing at his son’s first birthday, where the commander will also be in attendance to celebrate his political win. SXR is honored to come sing for the Little Master and would have done so even without the added benefit.
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We see two people walking and I smell trouble. The woman seems taken by the environment surrounding her, as if it is the first time she sees such luxury. Her husband is very sweet and soft-spoken and you can tell he is very much caring towards her. They are even holding hands like a pair of teenage lovers. Hmmm...could this provide a parallel between CFT and his wife?
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Fan Lian greets them and we find out it’s the rumored couple mentioned in the gossip about SXR when he was still in Pingyang. The woman is Jiang Menping, Xirui’s former senior sister and her husband, Chang Zhixin, is Fan Lian and Er Nainai’s cousin. They have come to Beijing because the cousin works in government. Apparently the mention of Shuiyun is persona non grata around Meiping. She looks a shy and pensive woman, a complete contrast to the childlike and wild SXR.
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They come to visit Er Nainai and CZX is taken by Er Nainai’s son, doting on him, which seems to sadden Meiping.  Er Nainai, after chatting incessantly about it until she notices Menping’s sad gaze. We learn she has been trying to get pregnant but her body is unhealthy or unable to produce children.  CZX showcases how much of a doting husband he is, stating that he actually does not like kids at all, which is a sweet lie.  He only wants her, nothing else.  Sigh...will I ever find someone like this.  
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I digress...He adds that since he comes from a large family and had to deal with a lot of crying brats, he has grown to dislike kids.  You can tell he is saying this to make her feel good and she knows, but she is grateful and bask in his love. Er Nainai notices the sweet moment and you can tell she wishes that Er Ye was that loving. 
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She gives Menping a pair of earrings as a wedding gift, which she could not attend.  Menping feels the jewelry is too luxurious, which makes me think they are a frugal type couple, despite the high level job he has and his aristocratic background. Er Nainai apologizes for her faux pas earlier, which Menping assures her it is okay.  CZX cannot stay a few moments away from his wife, acting all anxious as if she had disappeared.  She reminds him that it has only been 30 minutes, but in his mind, it felt like a day. I may get diabetes from all that sweetness. He quickly notices the earrings.  He tells Er Nainai that he notices everything about Menping, down to the details like new earrings. Oooh, the look of envy is all over Er Nainai’s face.
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Is he for real??
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We see Er Nainai trying out new earrings, obviously in the hopes that dashing CFT will notice.  Oh sis, your relationship is not the same as your cousin.  CFT comes in and thrown himself on the bed, fully clothed.  He looks like he had a full day. She helps him out of his jacket and tries to draw his attention to the earrings. Oh sis, i am telling you that you are wasting your time.  His heart eyes are not for you. He jokes that she looks chubbier (BRO!) and she pushes him back on the bed.  He wants to know what has gotten in her to make her irritated towards him. She pouts and walks back to her dresser, obviously disappointed that he did not notice the minute change. 
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BRO! The last thing a woman wants to hear!
He’s like, okay fine, I am going to wash up, but by the way, next week is our son’s first birthday, so take care of the preparation, especially since my BIL will be coming for his big celebration. As he walks away, she mutters that she’s no better than a servant and takes off the earrings.
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It’s the day of the Little Master’s birthday and Meixin is acting like a good hostess, guiding the servants and being the mistress of the house.  Apparently, Er Nainai is still pouting in her room.  One of the servants inform her the opera troupe is here and it is obvious that she has no idea who it is. By the way, let me pause again and talk about the fashion. Meixin’s dress and the mink she wears is gorgeous.  Good lord the details in this show!!!  Ok, so back to the program, she tells the servant to warn the maids not to go near the performers, again highlighting the prejudice carried against the performers, who were lower than even prostitutes.  Sigh, hierarchical societies are bleh. 
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Meixin inquires about Er Nainai and right on cue, we see her, gazing into space, clearly still not over the fact that her husband does not pay full attention to her. Gurl, your marriage cannot be compared to that of your cousin! He married for love, while your husband married you for convenience.  Even if you are in love with him, the same cannot be said about him! He still showers you with affection and care, some people cannot even find that! 
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Ugh, Meixin barges in and they have a little sister chat about the birds and the bees, the difference between men and women when it comes to love. Meixin wonders if she has a fever or something, and Er Nainai explains that she read an opera script (really sis?!) that claims if a woman has never or be loved, is she living in vain and I am sitting here, looking at myself, feeling forever alone... 
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Sis, way to twist the knife in my wound
Meixin dismiss this nonsense, telling that most opera scripts are fake to fool young girls (that sounds familiar) and that as an housewife, she has obligations to fulfill. Er Nainai insists the stories are real and brings up the real reason why she feels out of sorts. 
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 Meixin is like, the hell girl, why are you bringing this nonsense up? Did my brother offend you or something? Er Nainai says no, but she feels Fengtai is not like other men, which Meixin tells her it’s a good thing. 
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 Every men are not supposed to be the same and Er Nainai acts like she’s a little girl. Meixin explains that some men are verbose with their love, while others carried in their hearts.  There are other men who sleeps around (hmmm is this a reference to novel Fengtai?) while others simply do not understand romance.
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She thinks Fengtai is of the latter (maybe because he has not found the person to display his love to). Meixin reminds her of the type of man her brother is, someone who is bright and sensible, and she should be happy to have someone like this as a husband, instead of a gruff like Commander Cao.  No truer words spoken, sis!
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Oh SIS! I hope you never see your husband’s face when he looks at his chubby cheeks bae.  You might be too mad to see such obvious display of adoration
Meanwhile Hot daddy CFT struts his stuff into the banquet area of his house, schmoozing to his guests.  Mr Hao Lan, who I believe is the head servant of the household, urges him to go outside and wait to greet the Commander. CFT tells him not to fret, the man of the hour will probably fashionably late. 
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His mind quickly shifts to his bae and he inquires about the troupe.  As soon as he finds out there are already in his home, he goes out to check. Oh boy, the man is enamored, completely unaware that his wife is having a heart-to-heart about their relationship. 
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He hears some of the singers fighting with their troupe leader, irritating Shang Lao Ban so much, he storms out. As soon as Xirui sees CFT, he is all smiles while CFT gives him his soft gaze that shows all the affection he has for our adorable divo.  Oh, if Er Nainai had seen this, she would have blown a casket.
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If I could find a man who looks at me like Er Ye looks at Xirui
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He claims to come and get a look at his bae check the preparations, wondering if it was bad time since he overheard the arguing. Sis, you are here to gaze at your crush
 SXR chuckles, dismissing the silly fight.  Er Ye tells him that he has hired photographers and reporters to help with dismissing the rumors. The headline, according to him will read “Shang Xirui’s beautiful voice caused Commander Cao to light up and smile”. Geez can I get a hype man like this? SXR is grateful at all the support CFT provided and wonders how he is going to repay him.
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Sigh...
Right at this moment, the man of the hour arrives with all the pomp.  Lao Han rush CFT to the front door to greet the Commander. CFT reminds SXR that the rest is up to him to either fail or succeed in dispeling the rumors. SXR tells him not to worry and CFT replies with another one of his killer smiles. He runs to the door as Commander Cao steps out of the car. BIL tells him that he saw him running to greet him instead of waiting for him, all in jest.  
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They clearly have a good relationship. CFT even jest that he doesn’t have another elder sister to give away for marriage when Commander Cao brings out all the gifts. Not to be outdone in the hilarious department, Cao tells him about the gift he brought to his little nephew and I swear I am endeared by the gruff old man when he describes the noise made by the toy train.  
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Fan Lian is acting like the young master of the house, walking aimlessly towards the kitchen where he finds his cousins helping out. He’s like, what the hell are you guys doing? You are guests, not helpers! He tells them to go change and attend the banquet, hoping CXZ could rub shoulders with Old Cao for his career, but CXZ sounds like an honest politician.  
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Commander Cao and Fengtai are jesting again, and you really feel their relationship is not based on hierarchy, but one of affection.  I think this is the first time I see a Republican Era drama that shows a warlord’s softer side.  Is this show for real???? They are discussing the tense relationship between his son, Cao Guixi who is also a top member of the army, and him.  Lol, he even calls him a son of a bitch, which makes CFT spit out the hazelnut out of his mouth. Apparently, the son is being ungrateful after his father gave him a golden ticket by sending him abroad, but he is turning out to be rebellious, even hanging out with sketchy people. 
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Unfortunately for the Commander, since it’s his only heir, he can’t do much to suppress the young master. 
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Oh, is the young master cause problem later?
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Fengtai suggests that Commander impregnates his sister so she can give him another heir (no worries, this is said in jest) and he can shoot the current heir.  Fengtai asks why the Commander is so sweet with him (hmm because you are so damn charming, who can resist you?) while so stern with his son. The Commander does not want to talk his son because the latter infuriates him.  He then calls Fengtai using a feminized version of his name (Feng’er), which shows the kind of affection they have between each other.  Awww...Fengtai playfully acts embarrassed, which only prompts the Commander to yell out the girly nickname. LOL, I cannot! 
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He then tells the Commander that he has brought Shang Xirui to perform for him, but if this offends him, he will send the troupe back.  He informs him of the situation the opera singer has found himself because of their nebulous past, but it seems, based on the Commander’s reaction, to be water under the bridge.  The Commander finds the gossip silly since he does not consider the lil divo as a worthy enemy.  Relieved, CFT tells him that he will make SXR sing a great piece for him and even apologizes, but the Commander knows the lil divo is a stubborn child who does not bend over for anyone.  The Commander requests a popular Shaanxi Opera called Qinqiang (I may actually make a post about the different operas). CFT orders the manager to inform SXR of the request.
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SXR is not too happy about the sudden change, since he doesn’t have the right costume and makeup to perform this opera.  Oof, any creatives reading this will understand his fretting. We like to be perfect when we deliver our art and any last minute inconvenience can throw a major wrench in our delivery. 
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Manager Han tells him it was a request from the Commander himself, so basically he has no choice. Despite having a well-know stubborn personality, SXR acquiesces, but he is not happy about it.  He knows he has no choice but to please the Commander since his future depends on it Even his troupe member comments at this overbearing commander’s unfair request.  SXR asks Xiao Lai if he should perform without all of his accoutrement, which best girl agrees. 
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He is going to need far more food than the dainty offering from la casa de Cheng.  
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She goes out to get something heavier, while Manager Han catches up with Meixin to let her know that her hubby is here.  She spots Xiao Lai and you know trouble is a-brewing.  She asks who that girl is as she looks familiar and learns which opera troupe was invite.  Realizing the impending trouble since Er Nainai’s cousins are also attending the banquet, she ask the manager to quickly fix this messy situation.
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Ooph, there are so many good moments in this episode, especially with SXR calling out the minister for embezzlement, showing CFT that despite being a dan, he is no damsel.  We find out that he has martial art skills, which will probably be handy in later episodes.  We also finally get a chance to see the Commander and more family dynamics on CFT sides.  His relationship with this BIL is quite interesting and despite the obvious difference in status, they are quite affectionate with each other.  I feel like I am watching a more Westernized relationship than a typical Asian one.  Additionally, we get to see the much talked about Jiang Menping and her husband.  Their relationship is again a very Westernized lovey-dovey relationship, that of love, not one of arranged marriage, which contrast immensely to Fengtai-Er Nainai’s relationship.  This makes Er Nainai yearns for such devotion from her husband, which we know she will not get since a lil divo has bursted into the scene and crept up inside CFT’s heart.  I feel for her, you can tell she has love for her husband, but she is equally naive when it comes to relationship and how to deal with men in general.  She is after all a very conservative woman, who unlike her well-cultured husband, represents the vestiges of a fallen dynasty and society, that is still trying to hang on desperately.  I sense trouble brewing between Xirui, the cousins and Commander Cao
4 notes · View notes
xathia-89 · 5 years
Text
Long Lost Sibling - Nobunaga
I was in more than a little bit of a stunned state. I was clutching my bag to my chest, sat in ruined and smoky clothes while riding on a horse that belonged to a warlord who trusted me less than he could throw me. His hazel eyes were alight with passion when he had run to the scene of the fire. I learnt shortly after that, I had saved Nobunaga Oda from the flames that had been destined to kill him from the history that I had discovered. I was lucky that I hadn’t lost my bag, no one could understand why I refused to let go of it as it kept moving slightly, still as scared as I was most likely as I tried to keep my breathing level. I was used to a high level of stress and expectation on my head, but I felt like I was floundering out of my depth in this scenario. I had been meeting up with one of my college friends, who had followed his passion and turned to an astrophysicist. Then we’d been caught out by a storm, and somehow ended up five hundred years in the past.
I was grateful to arrive at the castle. I was given my own quarters, a bath and some clean clothes. The maids helped me with the kimono as I had hidden my opened bag in my wardrobe, knowing it would be safe there for this instance. Then the same man who had brought me here entered the room and instantly began to correct my crooked obi sash before he let me leave.
I was in 1582, I had saved Nobunaga Oda from the flames that had been his demise in my timeline, and I was surrounded by Hideyoshi Toyotomi, Masamune Date, Ieyasu Tokugawa, Mitsunari Ishida and Mitsuhide Akechi. Six warlords whose names I had been very well acquainted with during my studies. They had all been footnotes and names, now I was faced with the real things. And they were all armed. I hadn’t been unarmed until I had gotten changed. My duelling swords were in my bag, along with my sole companion in my travelling lifestyle.
Nobunaga kept staring at me, it was slightly unnerving, but I couldn’t let the ‘enemy’ know that. It was like a match warm up. If the opposition could sense your nerves, then it was a weak spot to exploit. I stood straight, holding myself as though there was a string attached to the ceiling. I had spent years training in more ways than one, and this was definitely the time I would need my own defence.
“I refuse to spend my days doing ‘girly’ things,” I finally snapped, refusing to let them lord it all over me just because I happened to pick up Oda’s eye while saving his life.
“Then I appoint you as my Chatelaine,” the Devil King stated, glaring at me as though wondering what I was still doing being present in the meeting.
I let myself out and used the maids to find my way back to my room quickly.
I heard the scratching at my wardrobe and quickly opened it as my cat glared at me. He always insisted on sitting in my bag to the point that I had my handbags made, especially to accommodate his quirks. Luckily, he hadn’t made any kind of mess in my bag or wardrobe, and I also had a veranda to let him get out for a stretch with access to the gardens. Though surprisingly, he hated grass and would do anything to avoid walking on it as he turned his nose up at me. The maids had left out some water for washing in, though Nobu instantly decided it had been left for him and eagerly lapped at it. I needed to get something from the kitchens for him as I pondered about the meat availability, and making a friend or two in the kitchen to ensure a good supply. I was scratching Nobu behind the ears as the door opened, and one of the older maids looked surprised at the scene.
“Don’t tell anyone I have a cat please,” I smiled, “I just need to make sure there’s always a bowl of water, and I need help getting him food please?” I asked with a head tilt.
“Of course, Lady Natsuki,” she bowed and immediately rushed off.
It sounded strange being referred to as a princess, I certainly had never acted in such a royal manner, though it was often referred to how I held myself as I was growing up. I existed in my own class, every movement was graceful and precise as I moved, and it was always the outwards appearance that came off as someone of importance. I could barely remember anything from before the age of ten, it was as though I just appeared in Kyoto, and I lived with my parents, who I barely saw. It was a constant flow of nannies and tutors, and I naturally attended a private school. My talent in ballet and fencing was encouraged and quickly honed. Before coming through the wormhole, I didn’t actually have a home. I spent my time travelling and attending competitions all over the world. I had been referred to as the master dueller, but it wasn’t something I believed I could call myself yet.
The maid came back with a tray of food for me, and it included an overabundance of meat. Nobu was at my knees in an instant, meowing incessantly at me until he had his portion of food in front of him. His purring was endearing as the maid introduced herself as Kinu, and she smiled at the sight of a now contented cat. He had already settled himself down on the futon covers, which was going to make it interesting for me getting into bed if it hadn’t already been a double one anyway.
“I’ll do what I can to help if you don’t want anyone else to know,” she offered.
“He gets overwhelmed by people easily, that’s all,” I explained. “So if people don’t know about him, then it’s going to be less stress for him. Thank you,” I softly finished. My exhaustion was hitting me like a ton of bricks now I’d finally stopped.
“I’ll come by in the morning, sleep well Lady Natsuki,” Kinu smiled.
“Please, drop the title, it’s just Natsuki,” I corrected. “See you in the morning, Kinu.”
Routine was essential around the castle. After three days of being avoided by Hideyoshi, I stalked him out and demanded that he tell me my duties the following day. It was just outside of Nobunaga’s tenshu where I had caught him, and Oda opened the door to commend my determination before telling his vassal that he was spending the day showing me how the castle worked tomorrow.
Toyotomi was far from impressed, but then I couldn’t do my job if I didn’t know what it was. I was introduced to everyone as the Chatelaine, and I made my connections in the kitchens and amongst the maids outside of Kinu. I helped them to get a few things passed the warlords, and I had the trust of the staff long before Hideyoshi was prepared to do anything of the sort.
I figured there was a banquet that night, judging from all the flying about the staff were doing. Kinu confirmed to me that I was right as I helped her to pick up a box.
“Natsuki!” I heard as we placed the final box on the counter level. “How many times do I need to tell you about not pushing yourself?” Hideyoshi was in mother hen mode it appeared as Kinu couldn’t hide her smile.
“We worked together, there wasn’t any strain in it for either of us,” I pointed out. “Also were you meant to inform me of the event tonight?”
Hideyoshi blushed as he was caught out.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I chuckled, “I’m going to get ready.”
There had been numerous reports from all the staff of strange noises coming from the Chatelaine’s room. Mitsuhide was naturally sent to investigate, as he made sure that no one could see where he was going. Kinu had been strangely close to the new arrival, and the two would often be seen gossiping while cleaning and working through the castle. There were rumours the two would eat together on occasions, but it hadn’t been confirmed by anyone yet. It was silent as everyone had been assembled at the banquet, and the kitsune slide the door open. It was organised to perfection, something that did remind him of the Princess as the sight of two long, thin blades perked his interest, but they would not be the source of the unknown sound. He opened the wardrobe carefully and was attacked by a black fur ball with claws, that then dashed straight out of the room. Mitsuhide paused for a minute and could feel that his face was scratched by whatever it was, logic dictated that it was a cat judging from size and speed. It wasn’t expected, but Akechi then realised he had just released the animal out into the castle and immediately then scrambled out of the woman’s room, forgetting to close the doors.
Masamune’s scouts returned during the banquet with a concerning report regarding the night at Honno-Ji, so everyone was dispersed. Nobunaga was walking with Hideyoshi to his tenshu, where the Lord had managed to persuade his vassal that this was definitely a suitable time for konpeito. The sugar candies were waiting for them in the room, and they started to digest the reports from the scouts. Then a scratch came from the ceiling, much to their surprise, before a black blob dropped through and started to lick at the candy in Oda’s hand.
A hurried knock and Toyotomi threw the door open.
“Hi,” I smiled and spotted Nobu sat very happily on Nobunaga’s shoulder while licking at the sugar candy in his hand. “I’m really sorry about this,” I said and went to pick up my stray cat.  
Then I was hissed and swatted with.
“Excuse me, mister,” I hissed back. “You know sugar isn’t good for you,” I scolded, much to Oda’s amusement as my cat refused to stop digging his claws in.
“How have you kept him secret for this long?” Hideyoshi was surprised that the fuzzball had an owner.
“He doesn’t normally like people, it’s just been him and me for a few years,” I shrugged, trying to avoid the fact that I’d fallen through a wormhole to get here. It wasn’t a lie, it was usually just me and Nobu in the RV I used as my travelling home. He didn’t like going outside beyond the cemented over car parks, even though I’d forever be begging for the little sod to go toilet outside of the RV. He’d usually make a deal of having a walk outside, and then coming in only to use the litter tray and go back outside. “It was easier to keep him in my room, and Kinu was always handy to help me,” I explained, scratching my cat behind his ears. “He’s obviously taken a liking to Nobunaga,” I shrugged.
“What’s his name?” Oda was curious as I froze up.
“Nobu,” I muttered, looking embarrassed and away from the two warlords.
“He does remind me of you,” Hideyoshi commented, getting a closer look at the cat who was now staring at him with wine coloured eyes.
“Well, at least he isn’t tearing the place apart-” I was interrupted by a slightly bloodied Mitsuhide joining the room. “Oh, that’s how he got out,” my eyes widened at the scratches across Akechi’s face. “That’s normally how he greets people,” I gestured to the white-haired male.
Hideyoshi looked like he was going to comment on the kitsune, but a look from Nobunaga silenced his vassal.
I was about to give up on having a cat. He was always on Oda’s shoulder or following the man about with devotion, regardless of where he was. I had heard that he’d even been in war councils. It didn’t help that Nobunaga ignored my instructions regarding feeding him sugar candies, I was beginning to sympathise with Hideyoshi, though I never let him know about my secret chocolate supply in my room.
It was a beautiful night, I had the doors open to admire the stars as I had the candle lit and some chocolate to finish off a long day. Then someone opened my door, and I had a black fur ball wanted something sweet in my lap in an instant.
“Oh, now you’re interested?” I chuckled, stroking Nobu affectionately as Nobunaga leant over to see what I was eating. “Close the door and take a seat, we don’t need Hideyoshi giving us a lecture,” I grinned.
We ended up talking about very little of importance, but I introduced the man to chocolate as he shared his precious sugar candies.
Then Toyotomi found us.
“Lord Nobunaga, Lady Natsuki!” Hideyoshi immediately scolded, though I had to admit that Oda was quicker than I could ever imagine. He was long gone down the corridor and left me alone to deal with a fully bristled mother hen.
I didn’t know what lead me to my actions, but when the vassal turned around to start telling me off, I kissed him passionately on the lips. He returned it with equal fire before we separated. I smiled and told him goodnight before closing the door. It took a little while before he left, walking in the direction of his manor. Nobunaga owed me as I trailed a finger over my lips that were still tingling.
“Lady Natsuki!” I looked up from my scrubbing of the floor to see Mitsunari looking concerned, a frown on the face of an angel. “Lord Nobunaga has some news for you, he’s requesting your presence in the tenshu.”
“This must be urgent,” I replied, making sure I wasn’t covered in muck before I stood up.
“Please, follow me,” he asked, turning about promptly and quickly leading.
I was definitely the most underdressed one in the room. Hideyoshi was scowling at my attire, but Oda cut him off before he could start.
“You need to pack and get ready to leave, you’re coming with us,” the black haired male stated.
“My Lord!” Mitsunari and Hideyoshi both exclaimed in surprise.
“As long as I can know where I am going,” I asked.
“I need my lucky charm with me to flush two dead men out onto the field,” he smirked. “You should be able to leave Kinu in charge of Nobu,” he added.
“I am still trying to figure out why I am sharing my cat,” I grumbled, making the two vassals smile to see us in such closeness. Masamune had made the comment that to watch me and Nobunaga converse was akin to watching siblings, which the other warlords had then agreed with and I chose to ignore.
“I like how you complain about your cat and not being dragged out to battle,” Oda smirked. I simply shrugged in response before we all cleared out to get ready for the upcoming event.
A thud behind Ieyasu made him jump. Natsuki had just been behind him while attending to a minor wound that needed bandaging before he would be sent back out. The soldier was looking shocked, and the Princess was unconscious on the floor. The warlord quickly finished his current task before rushing over to the woman. She wasn’t burning up, and she looked a little pale but nothing drastic.
“She was fine, then she was on the floor,” the soldier was gaping.
Tokugawa gathered the Chatelaine into his arms, a frown deep on his forehead. The other warlords would want to know, but there wasn’t a known cause for her collapse. It would worry them for no reason, but then again, Nobunaga was just as likely to punch him in the face for withholding the information.
“My Lord?” The man the Princess had been attending to was looking confused. His bandage was adequate as the blonde glanced him over.
“Find any of them, and tell them the Princess has collapsed. She is resting in Lord Nobunaga’s tent,” he instructed with a swift nod.
Hideyoshi rushed back to the camp as soon as the news was received. Oda had said nothing but would make sure everyone else left him alone later until they had figured things out for themselves. The Princess had no degeneration, but to see her in such a state without a cause was concerning for them all involved. There was nothing anyone could do for her by staying behind, she had a guard protecting her, and she had Ieyasu to hand in case of any complications as the vassal pressed a light kiss to her forehead before returning to the front.
My eyes were sore. I had slept with my contact lenses in, as I slowly sat up and tried to see what my surroundings were until I realised that I stood very little chance without taking out my lenses. I heard the tent flap move as I went to remove the second one.
“Huh, future inventions?” Oda’s voice made me jump slightly, and I gave him a glare from mismatched eyes before taking the second lens out.
“It’s one way of proving it, could you get my glasses from my bag, please? My eyesight isn’t the best after having my contact lenses in for so long,” I sighed, gently rubbing my currently closed eyes.
I heard the flap move again, and the guard stiffly reply to his Lord’s request to retrieve my bag and a change of clothes. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the warlords descended on me, but then again with Nobunaga’s presence, it may be a different story. Some bowls of water were found, and a makeshift screen erected so I could change in private.
My glasses were similar in style to those that Sasuke wore, only I had thinner frames, and my eyesight was nowhere near as bad as the poor ninja’s. It was bringing the world into focus for me and made reading a lot easier, though to avoid needing always to be removing my protective gear I favoured contacts, which also gave me the option to darken my eyes to a shade of brown from their unusual wine colour.
Tokugawa let himself in while I was changing and gave me his usual unimpressed expression.
“I didn’t exactly plan it,” I snorted, folding my arms.
“No, but there’s definitely the obvious right now that you’re Nobunaga’s sister,” the blonde shrugged, sitting me back down on the futon as I stared at the tsundere man in shock. “You two act and look like siblings, so shall we just face the obvious?” He asked us, acting as though we were the idiots in this situation.
“Just make sure she’s fine,” Oda grumbled, glowering at the other man in the tent.
I kept reaching for the bowls with water in to rub into my eyes. They were dry and itchy, and water was the best thing I had to hand. Tokugawa had left us for now, and it was like staring into a mirror after all of my dreams.
“I had these really vivid dreams,” I needed to break the stifling silence around us. “That you fought with me in one arm against someone else in the family, at father’s funeral,” I murmured, desperate to not look at his eyes as I needed to lift the burden on my chest. “Then there were all those occasions of you dragging me with you all over the castle, giving the staff heart failure as we’d be found in the pantry with the candies,” I was twirling a lock of hair around my finger. “And various people would catch us and scold us as Hideyoshi does now,” I couldn’t stop the faint smile from spreading across my face. “Then there are the times you would storm into the middle of my dance lessons to correct what I was doing,” I trailed off.
His hug was territorial. I couldn’t stop the tears as he laughed at them.
“I thought you’d been killed,” he admitted. “If you fell through a wormhole to get here, then you must have fallen through one to leave. At least you are safe,” he patted me on the head.
“And you stole my cat,” I sulked. “He hates people, but loves you! The things I’ve done for him,” I pouted and mock glared at the devil king.
“Well, you did name him after me,” Nobunaga smugly announced before I swatted him on the arm. “Then again I announced you to your proper title before we found out the obvious, princess,” he smirked. “Now to torment the rest of them,” he leaned in, a glimmer in his eyes that I recognised as dangerous for poor Hideyoshi, not that it would stop me doing anything as I grinned in response.
Toyotomi was wearing a hole in the ground around the campfire. Masamune was finishing dishing up some food, and chuckling at the state that his friend was getting himself into.
“So when are you two going to kiss?” Date grinned.
“Er, what?” Hideyoshi snapped his head up, a blush dark across his cheeks as he remembered the steamy string the couple had shared when he caught them sneaking candy late at night.
“Oh, I see,” the one-eyed dragon laughed. “She’s good then?”
“I will remove your remaining eye,” Hideyoshi threatened, the colour in his cheeks trying to outshine the flames next to them.
“You’ll need Nobunaga’s permission anyway,” Ieyasu added into the conversation. “She’s his sister after all.”
“What?” Masamune dropped the ladle he had been holding into the pot.
“Natsuki, she’s the missing sister,” Tokugawa shrugged. “She’s wearing glasses at the moment, and you can see that they’re practically the spitting image of each other, so no wonder Hideyoshi likes her,” the blonde added to the conversation, not taking his eyes off the bowl of food he was consuming.
Hideyoshi leapt over the seats and soldiers, making the other warlords smirk in knowledge before barging into the tent, his breath hitched in his throat.
“Er, hi?” I questioned, sitting on the floor next to Nobunaga, both of us taken aback by the sudden intrusion. It was like looking at the obvious now we had all figured it out, and my glasses were still absolutely disgusting. I pushed them back onto my face in defeat, acknowledging that I would need to find a clean piece of fabric somewhere and probably some water.
“So, it’s true?” Toyotomi was addressing Oda rather than me, and it irritated the hell out of me.
“You can ask either of us, instead of just defaulting to Nobunaga just because he’s a man,” I snapped, glaring at the vassal as I felt my brother’s smirk widen behind me.
“She does have a point,” Oda was enjoying this way too much as Hideyoshi was blushing for an entirely different reason now. “Anyway, we pack up camp, there is no point to further bloodshed,” the warlord declared. “And you will be sticking close to Ieyasu or me while we sort things,” he said, looking at me. I had to concede with a smile since I had not long recovered from fainting.
My brother was becoming an unbearable tease once we arrived back. It was officially announced that I was the sister of Nobunaga, and then there was a rapid increase in the interest and mail I was now receiving from daimyos, including Shingen Takeda who had decided I was now worthy of his attention. Nobunaga was thriving in the fact that I was determined to do as I pleased still, and kept up my role as Chatelaine seriously, despite that virtually of the staff were now terrified of me because of my change in the family name. Though the person I was missing the most, was the change in Hideyoshi. The vassal had taken to avoiding me completely at every turn. He was never there to offer me any help, but I had heard he was always scouring the castle to find any way of making sure he wouldn’t walk into me. It was hurting me, and Oda had figured it out.
I was told to wear a red kimono that my brother had made for me, and Kinu had done my hair in a different style while I was stood waiting at the gates at the time he had told me to. It was confusing, but I figured that he had a reason since he’d never given me any kind of instruction like this before.
It felt like a lifetime before someone was running in my direction. I was surprised to see that it was Hideyoshi, but apparently not as shocked as he was at my appearance.
His lips and mouth were red hot. I was cradled in his arms, and my head was being held to his demands. His tongue explored every millimetre of my mouth as I returned the fire, my arms wrapping around his neck just to give me something to hang onto. Then I jumped into his arms as a loud bang startled us both.
My brother was definitely the instigator of the entire scenario since he was wearing the biggest smirk of all the warlords. Not that Hideyoshi was letting me go, he just helped me to stand back on my feet and glared at our friends as I was trying to suppress a laugh.
“I told you monkey, she likes the sake and dumplings at the teahouse,” Nobunaga smirked broadly, not hiding his amusement at the situation.
“Oh, you set this up?” I asked, widening my eyes at the cocky man.
“Well, he was too busy avoiding you to make a move,” my brother replied. “Now go and make things right,” he ushered us away with a hand gesture and a knowing smirk. “And I don’t expect you to come home tonight, am I understood?”
“Yes, sir!” I laughed, before dragging Hideyoshi out of the gates.
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honekitteh · 5 years
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For Jyana please! ~ 1 to 7 please, and 9,12, 18, 21, 29 and 33 please! ~ :)
This was a lot and took me a while, but it was also fun! thanks for the ask!
01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?  I’ve used the name Jyana for both Star Wars and Star Trek characters since the year 2000.  Originally I switched letters around from the name Jaina (cause I liked Jaina Solo).  But since then I felt the characters with that name have grown into their own and even depending on the universe they are in, they are pretty different.  There wasn’t really anything symbolic or special to it, it doesn’t really have a meaning standalone. I just liked how it sounded. I tend to pronounce it more Jai-ana, at least I think that’s the best way to express how I pronounce it.  I honestly can’t remember where and when I came up with the last name of Kai, but there was a cool Battletech character with that name, so I’ve kind of stuck with it.   
02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness?  Jyana is uncomfortable when people give her titles.  She doesn’t really feel she’s the Hero of Tython, even if that’s what she called her.  She was honored to be Jedi Battlemaster, even though she didn’t think she could have helped defeat Revan alone (or she didn’t especially feel like the most upstanding Jedi at that precise moment
03. What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves?  Jyana thinks her eyes are pretty cause they occasionally change color between green and light brown (they’re hazel).
04. What are their favorite traits about their lover? (one psychological and one physical) Jyana actually really loves the fact that Theron thinks he needs to protect her (even though she really doesn’t think she needs protecting).  She also is quite fond of his eyes (if she had to pick one thing).
05. Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type? Initially she’s pretty shy.  She doesn’t have any sexual experience to speak of when she meets Theron.  (not that she was all ‘no attachments jedi’ or anything. she just was too busy to notice)  Over time, she gets a bit more confident to the point she has to remind him to stop working and… give her some attention.
06. Do they have any hobbies that their lover finds unusual, odd, or otherwise annoying? While he typically doesn’t complain about the results, Theron is typically concerned if Jyana is “stress-baking.”  She doesn’t really know how to sit idle when something is bothering her, and is typically very terrible at expressing that something is bothering her and what it is.
07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)? If Jyana is contented, or sometimes frustrated, she sometimes makes cat noises.  She doesn’t realize she’s doing it at all.
09. Do they have a favorite season? What about a favorite holiday? She was fairly oblivious to different seasons (cause each planet is different and weird in its own way), but she is quite fond of the fall foliage that Voss has.  She doesn’t really have a favorite holiday cause she hadn’t entirely paid that much attention to them.  So long as there is good food involved though, she’s all in.
12. Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up?  Jyana probably would not really ever want to give up believing the best in people, even if it doesn’t always prove the be the best idea. 
18. What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode? Something simple and fairly secluded.  Preferably somewhere in a forest with waterfalls nearby.  Enough room for a family (should the Force will it) perhaps.
21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear? Valkorian winning. Or that he isn’t really dead.  Losing control of her own body (again) and being forced to watch while he walked in her shoes.  Typically when this nightmare rears its head she recites a Jedi Code or just works on deep meditation techniques.  Depending on the situation, she will seclude herself and just allow herself to cry.  Often times, Theron is a comforting shoulder.
29. What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one?  Jyana does a lot of courageous things, but she doesn’t entirely think any of them through, or even want to attribute to them as if they were actually courageous (it was the right thing to do!).  So it’s hard to pick just one.  Facing off against Master Surro while she was controlled by the Emperor, attempting to protect Theron and Lana (despite them both being unconscious) was pretty courageous.  As was attacking Vinn Atrius on Nathema… though most time Theron’s already stabbed, almost dying, or in some sort of rough spot by the time she attempts to protect him.  He is not the easiest person to protect.
33. If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go? When Jyana wants to be alone, she typically goes to the waterfalls on Odessen near where she met Satele and Marr way back.  She likes to meditate on the pillars near the waterfalls.  She went there a lot after Umbara and Copero.  
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Text
Title : Tumbling Through the Remains
Author : @himanochi
For : @sonneka
Rating/Warnings : G
Prompt : DR:AE AU or a Post DR3 setting where Komaeda and Hinata fight against Monokumas in the middle of an abandoned city just like it happens in DR:AE.
Author’s notes : So…this was the first time I wrote anything remotely combat related. I have no idea if it’s any good or makes sense. Which is also why I mostly went with the theme of DR:AE rather than…fighting Monokumas. It still happened! Just…not much. I’m sorry. I wish I would’ve had enough time to write my ideas for the other two prompts, but they got more and more detailed until it was just too much to handle. Still, all your prompts were great! And I really hope you’ll like this!
The sound of metal scratching against metal was grating to Hajime’s ears as he shoved the partially rusted crowbar into a Monokuma’s stomach, pushing down on his end to lift it up and tear open the bear’s head, crushing the program that controlled the robot in the process.
A flash of reflecting light got caught in the corner of his eye and he quickly stepped to the side. Not a second later, a sharp claw embedded itself in the concrete he had been standing on, accompanied by that all too familiar robotic cackling of a Monokuma. Its claw seemed to be stuck in the ground.
Hajime didn’t hesitate in thrusting the crowbar into the bear’s red eye as it moved its head to look at him. Sparks spread from the eye over the robot’s body, paralyzing it before breaking it entirely with a small explosive force. Hajime was almost caught in the blast, but could jump away with the crowbar in his hands at the last second.
Looking up, he made a quick scan of his surroundings.
The street ahead was blocked by a partially collapsed office building, a few dead bodies sticking out from under the rubble. It looked like the Monokumas from that direction had stopped coming. A handful of them was lying in the middle of the street, motionless or roughly taken apart by the crowbar Hajime had picked up earlier.
He turned around to see if Komaeda had been as successful on his end, just in time to see three more Monokumas waddling in his direction. Before he could take even one step forward toward them, from the corner of his eye, he saw a stone—not any bigger than a small pebble—flying through the air and hitting the Monokuma furthest away from him square in its glowing red eye.
The Monokuma toppled over, crashing into its two companions and pushing them down with it. Hajime wasn’t sure what happened exactly, but the moment both hit the ground, the telltale spark of a Monokuma’s weak spot being hit sent an electrical charge through them.
All three exploded at roughly the same time. He should be surprised…but he really wasn’t. Glancing over in the direction the pebble had been thrown from, he saw Komaeda stepping out of the shadow of a nearby building that was still somewhat standing.
Unsurprisingly, he was throwing and catching a few more pebbles with his mechanical left hand. He took a quick look around the area before focusing on Hajime as soon as he was close enough to be in earshot of him, “Do you think that’s all of them?”
“Seems like it. For now,” Hajime let his gaze wander over any possible Monokuma hiding places, but it all seemed clear now.
Komaeda made his way over to one of the torn open Monokumas that hadn’t been destroyed through the exploitation of their weak spot. He kicked against the useless piece of metal with his foot, stating after a short glance at its insides, “They’re not made by Towa.”
“Well, Souda did say this was part of his area,” Hajime shrugged. “Figures he’d been playing around with them during that time frame.”
If his senses wouldn’t have been as sharp as someone whose brain got tinkered with, he would’ve missed the way Komaeda’s brow creased the slightest bit and his eyes narrowed down at the broken machine in front of him. His muttering was loud enough to be heard without a genius brain, “That was too easy for Souda-kun’s standards, though.”
Hajime didn’t want to say anything, but he had to agree.
He wasn’t sure what kind of implications that left him with. Thinking about it didn’t seem like a good choice of action, though Komaeda had already beaten him to it and spoke his thoughts out loud, “Do you think they want to get rid of us?”
They being Future Foundation. Sadly, it was not out of the realm of possibilities. Especially since lately, more and more members of the Foundation got told about the survival of the Remnants of Despair. They had to know in order for the ex-remnants to properly help the rebuilding process.
It had mostly been alright in the beginning, but the existing tension was almost tangible by now. It was growing with every new member that got involved. Still, everyone back from the island agreed this was better than to live in isolation with the knowledge of what they had all done to the world.
Doing what they could to help out was the only thing that mattered for the time being. Even if the majority of people working with them threw them one distrustful look after the other.
It was only a matter of time until they would eventually get used to it, so it was fine. They simply had to keep pushing forward.
“We should get going,” Hajime brushed off Komaeda’s question. He took another quick look around before deciding to try the small alleyway that was partially covered with the floor of the collapsed office building. The opening was big enough to walk through.
He didn’t wait for Komaeda to give him any form of affirmation and made his way over, holding onto the rusted crowbar with a tight grip. Having a weapon wasn’t a bad thing when you were stuck in a post-apocalyptic city, searching for unlikely potential signs of survivors.
“I mean, they weren’t very cooperative when giving us this mission,” Komaeda followed him as he was walking through the alley, not giving up on the conversation that he started. Hajime didn’t know why he expected anything else from him. “The area report was really basic, too. And it didn’t say anything about Monokumas walking through the streets, either.”
“This is a rather unexplored area, so it only makes sense,” Hajime tried to refute Komaeda’s argument, but he couldn’t keep his voice from sounding a little tired.
Contrary to that, Komaeda sounded like an excited child on its birthday, “Hinata-kun, we both know they had to fly over this city with a helicopter before granting permission for ground exploration.”
He hated it when Komaeda was just right about things, which was way too often. The fact was that, yes, an air observation had to be done first. They should’ve known about the Monokumas.
“Plus,” Komaeda continued, “the only equipment they gave us was food for two people that can last for four days. It’s a ten days mission. Even if we do find survivors, they won’t survive for long.”
Hajime couldn’t keep himself from letting go of a deep sigh. He was sure if he turned around, the expression on Komaeda’s face that he would find was a big innocent smile. He didn’t want to see it.
Steeling himself for a full-blown argument, Hajime said, “I can’t say you’re entirely wrong about that, but saying they want to get rid of us is a bit much, don’t you think?”
“But it makes sense!” Komaeda had surely thrown his arms up into the air in a spur of emotion, “No one in their right mind would want someone like me to be part of their group, especially when it’s about something as delicate as the restoration of the world’s structure. Everyone knows I’m better at destroying things! And it’s no secret everyone’s scared of the basically god-like formerly called Kamakura Izuru.”
Hajime knew the words were coming, yet he did nothing to stop them. Neither Komaeda’s mention of Kamukura’s status nor his usual self-deprecation. Even though he wanted to prevent both more than anything else.
Komaeda wasn’t finished, “If I were gone, Future Foundation wouldn’t have to worry about their headquarters imploding for no reason just because I had a particularly lucky streak the past few days. And if you were to disappear, they wouldn’t need to fear being outsmarted by someone who can more or less read their thoughts without their consent. Not that either of it works that way.”
Not a lot of people knew about Komaeda’s type of luck—mainly the ones that saw the Killing School Trip broadcast by Enoshima’s AI—but practically everyone knew the kind of roles he played during the Tragedy. Not to mention that he still freaked out every person he talked to for longer than ten minutes.
When it came to Hajime’s case, however…well, the one red eye was usually enough to make anyone who looked at him feel uneasy in his presence. If they knew about the nearly countless talents stored inside his brain, they’d try to avoid him at every chance they got.
They were all scared of the potential things he could do to them, like controlling their decisions and beliefs through a simple conversation. Not to say that he couldn’t do that if he wanted to—oh no, he definitely could—but he wasn’t ever going to. It would give him a headache.
“I’m just saying,” Komaeda was still going, “it’s understandable they wouldn’t want to have anything to do with us. They’d rather have us die alone in this abandoned city, like the worthless garbage we are.”
This started to sound an awful lot like Komaeda’s mindless rambling. Spending as much time with Komaeda as Hajime did had taught him these instances were Komaeda’s most vulnerable moments. Something was hiding behind these words of accusation that didn’t sound like accusations.
Hajime tried to see his words from a different angle, from a different perspective. Instead of thinking about how Future Foundation viewed them, how would Komaeda view them in their place? It wasn’t the Future Foundation that he had to question, it was Komaeda.
He didn’t like the conclusion he came to, but he had to ask anyway, “Do you think they want us to die here or do you want us to die here?”
It was silence that followed. Even Komaeda’s footsteps stopped echoing between the walls of the alley and Hajime had to stop and turn around to make sure he was still there. He was, but his gaze was locked onto the ground, not moving a muscle.
Hajime, not knowing what to do, simply stood there and waited until Komaeda finally looked up again, meeting his gaze and opening his mouth to say…something Hajime couldn’t hear. The loud clapping of a thunder in the near vicinity drowned out the words Komaeda’s voice was forming.
Without any more of a warning than that, Hajime felt rain already trickling down his face and soaking into his clothes within seconds. Komaeda looked up at the sky, his expression utterly blank.
Hajime didn’t give himself any time to think about his actions as he took a couple of steps forward, grabbed Komaeda by his left hand, and broke out into a full-on sprint down the alleyway to find some cover from the rain.
Komaeda wasn’t resisting, but he wasn’t really running with him, either.
It probably took about five minutes to get to a building that might have been an indoor parking lot based on the handful of cars scattered around and the markings on the floor.
They stopped by a tipped over pillar near the crushed wall they entered through, Komaeda immediately sitting down on top of it with his elbows on his knees as his upper body toppled forward, catching his breath. Hajime was doing perfectly fine, though that was to be expected.
He waited for Komaeda’s breathing to regulate again before sitting down next to him, keeping a reasonable distance between them. The splashing sound of the raindrops hitting the concrete was now the only thing to fill the silence. It was better than nothing, he supposed.
The semi-silence continued for what felt like another ten minutes, but was probably a little less than that. Komaeda broke it with words said in a careful whisper, “I don’t know.”
Hajime’s head snapped over to him, but he had fixed his gaze onto the floor. Slowly, the cold of the rain soaking his clothes was seeping into his bones. It was probably the same for Komaeda, seeing as he began to wrap his arms around himself and started shaking.
Then again, Komaeda was known to do that whenever he had some sort of breakdown, too. He seemed to be more or less in control of himself, though. His words were still nothing more than a whisper, “Maybe a little bit of both?”
Hajime didn’t need to be a genius to know what Komaeda was talking about. He felt his heart crack just a tiny bit at the confirmation.
He could remember a night back on Jabberwock Island, where the sky had been clear and they watched the stars together from the beach. That night, Komaeda had told him he was scared he might die soon. Because he didn’t want to anymore.
It had been months since then and everything was fine, so Hajime hadn’t been worried. He had been quite happy about it, actually. Hearing Komaeda say that had lifted a weight off of his chest.
This was as if the weight had been dropped down again, punching the air out of his lungs. Before Komaeda could say anything else, Hajime beat him to it, “Did you lie to me?”
Komaeda didn’t even hesitate when furiously shaking his head as an answer. He still wasn’t looking at him, though, keeping his eyes on the floor as he spoke, “No. No, I didn’t, but—I’m still not sure if any of us really deserve to life after…everything we’ve done.”
Well, that was something Komaeda had been saying from the beginning. He stopped mentioning it after that conversation he had with Hajime at the beach, but apparently it was still a concern of his. Or maybe the recent tension with Future Foundation caused these thoughts to resurface.
Either way, Hajime could see how Komaeda was close to falling back into that mindset. He could feel the familiar worry begin to fill his heart.
Cautiously, he scooted over in Komaeda’s direction, though not by much. He didn’t want to startle him or anything. It felt as if he was approaching a scared animal, which probably wasn’t that far from the truth, but thinking that seemed a bit mean for some reason.
When Hajime was close enough that he thought he could try and reach out for him, Komaeda spoke up again, making him stop in the middle of his movement.
“I mean—” he paused, “Does anything we do to try and help really matter in the end?” He glanced at Hajime, just from the corner of his eye without moving his head, but his gaze was piercing as it was questioning—and maybe a bit scared, too.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, “I’m not doubting everyone’s abilities or anything. They’re talents are all useful right now, except mine. But… I just… I don’t know. I feel like there’s nothing I can do.”
Hajime took a moment to think it over, “Komaeda, you’re helping right now. You’re not doing nothing.”
“I know, but—” he interrupted himself, shutting his mouth with a clatter of his teeth. He turned his head, away from Hajime, muttering under his breath but still loud enough to hear, “You told me to always question and think about what I’m doing.”
The air got stuck in Hajime’s throat for a brief second. He remembered giving Komaeda that particular piece of advice. It was because of his dementia, and it actually seemed to help him hold back his compulsive behavior for the majority of time that had passed since then.
To be honest, he didn’t think about how it could affect Komaeda in these circumstances. Granted, he didn’t think he’d listen to his words for so long, either. Hajime dropped his hand that had been reaching for Komaeda, unsure of what to do.
Komaeda seemed to take it as a sign to continue, “I don’t know if I should be questioning myself in this situation, too, or not. But I do. And I don’t see how I could be of help to anyone.”
The rain was still falling, the sound of thunder in the distance.
A few minutes passed, carrying their silence. Hajime didn’t know what to do other than to stare at Komaeda, who was still facing away from him.
He wanted to say something, but the only words he could think of were a repeat of the speeches he used to give to all of them—that they had to try and move forward to create their own future. He could always try saying that again, but it didn’t quite feel like the right moment for that.
Something in the back of his mind decided to remind him he could just use one of the many talents he had now to easily find the right words with the blink of an eye, but he immediately rejected that idea. Komaeda deserved more than some calculated words. At least when he was talking to him as a friend.
The only other idea he had was to simply say whatever came to mind and, more or less, let his heart do the talking…on second thought, that sounded incredibly embarrassing.
…whatever.
To keep the embarrassment as low as possible, Hajime looked away, at the rain that was pouring down outside the parking lot, and started talking, “You know…that’s fine. Having doubts about this is fine. I’m sure everyone does. We destroyed this world, so who’s to say we can do anything other than that? We’re all just normal people at the end of the day.”
He said that, but he honestly thought he was more talking about himself right now than anyone else. It didn’t really boost the confidence he managed to put into his words, more like decrease it, but he had to keep going.
“Sometimes, it’s hard to push forward or to keep yourself from burning out or prevent any temptation of giving up to control your thoughts.” He hated how much these words were true for him, too. He was supposed to be their leader—for lack of a better term. He couldn’t be weak like that. Weak like the talentless Reserve Course student he still was, in a way.
He pushed the thought away, ignored it, pretended it wasn’t there.
He did his best to keep it all out of his voice, “But it’s all for a big thing like restoring the world. Every bit counts. And you don’t have to deal with the guilt and doubt alone, Komaeda. Make sure you’re in the right condition to keep going before you try to do so, alright?”
There. That didn’t sound half bad, did it?
Hajime turned his head over to Komaeda, only to be met with his grey-green eyes looking back at him. It caught him off-guard, made his heart jump up into his throat. He wasn’t that close…but still close. Hajime wanted to back away and lean further in at the same time.
The softness in Komaeda’s eyes prevented him from doing anything at all.
“You, too,” Komaeda’s voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back into reality. It was surprisingly calm. As if he had been prepared to say that, which was only emphasized by the small smile he gave him. “Everything you said, the same goes for you, too, Hinata-kun. Don’t forget that.”
Hajime could do nothing but stupidly blink at him, the words echoing in his ears as his brain was processing them and what they meant. He still hated it when Komaeda was just right about things.
He didn’t know what to say. He wondered if this was what Komaeda had wanted to get out of this conversation, though at this point, it was pretty obvious that the answer for that would be yes. Of course, it would be. And, of course, Komaeda would be the one to see right through the wall he tried to put up every single day for everyone else’s sake.
Why did he even try to hide it from him? He felt stupid now.
As if he could read his thoughts, Komaeda’s smile seemed to widen just the tiniest bit. He reached out and took Hajime’s hand in his own—in his right hand, the one that wasn’t metal—and said, “It’s okay. We’ll work on it.”
That was the same thing Hajime used to tell Komaeda back on the island, when he was still unstable most of the time. It was the exact same thing.
Hajime couldn’t hold back a puff of air mixed with a chuckle, bringing an involuntary smile to his lips. He closed his eyes, shaking his head, and muttered, “I hate you, Komaeda.”
Komaeda simply continued to smile.
He squeezed Komaeda’s hand, his heart jumping up and down when the action was reciprocated. He didn’t want to let go for the rest of this mission.
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duhragonball · 6 years
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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (72/?)
French Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.
Toothy Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.
Previous chapters conveniently available here.
[19 February 234 Before Age.  Toth-Thoth]
Detective Bret ducked under the brightly colored ribbon that cordoned off the crime scene and found a group of lawmen huddled together.  He headed straight for them and introduced himself.
"Glad to have you on this case, Bret," said Captain Neier.  "I usually hate it when they call in people from other precincts, but this time we could use all the help we can get."
Bret nodded. "May I look at the body?" he asked, pointing down at the tarp lying at their feet.
"Sure," Neier said.  He titled his head and glanced over his shoulder.  "Over this way."
Bret looked past him, and spotted a covered body lying on the ground.  "I don’t understand," he said, pointing to the tarp they were standing around.  "If that’s the body, what’s this?"
Neier sighed.  "I’d better show you the victim first."
Bret shrugged and followed him to the other tarp, which Neier pulled back to reveal the corpse of a humanoid male, six feet in height, lying face down in the alleyway.  He couldn’t tell much from the first look.
"No signs of a struggle," he said. "No obvious wounds.  Can’t say I’m surprised.  This guy looks like he could handle himself in a fight."  He sat on his haunches to take a closer look, and noticed a rip just below the belt-line of his trousers.  "Is that...?"
"A hole for his tail," Neier said. "He’s a Saiyan."
Bret looked up at him in amazement.  "Who could have done this to a Saiyan?"
"That’s what I’d like to know," Neier said.  "Between you and me, this is one perp I’d rather not find.  With any luck, the killer’s already left the planet, but it’s not like anyone here would have been a threat to him, you know?"
Bret shuddered at the thought.  He removed a pen from his jacket and carefully manipulated the fabric around the tail-hole to get a better look.  "So where’s his tail?" he asked.  "Some Saiyans cut them off or lose them in battle, but this must have happened recently, or he wouldn’t need to rip a hole in his pants."
"And that’s why we called you in," Neier said.  He waved for Bret to follow him back to the first tarp, and nodded for one of the other police officers to remove it.
It was a pile of Saiyan tails.  Bret took an involuntary step backward as he realized what he was seeing.  Something about the sight of all those furry appendages lying together made him nauseous, even before the smell wafted up to his nose.
"We’re assuming one of them is his," Neier said, "but we’ll need to run DNA tests to be sure.  Best guess for now is that this collection goes back about two months."
"There must be..." Bret stopped to wait for his stomach to settle down.  "Must be twenty of them there."
"I counted twenty-four," Neier said.
"But there haven’t been that many Saiyans on Toth-Thoth in the past two *years*," Bret said.   "I don't think there's two dozen Saiyans in the whole sector."
"Like I said, whoever did this may already be long gone," Neier said.  "I don’t know why he left behind his collection of trophies, but I doubt he’s finished hunting.  He’s out there somewhere, waiting to kill again."
*******
[26 February 234 Before Age.   Nat-Chezz II.]
Inspired by Luffa's exploits, Zaperc had tried to follow in her footsteps, but the path was even more difficult than he had expected.   Most of the galaxy only knew Luffa by reputation and rumor, and even the planets she had fought for had only a vague idea of who she was and how she operated.   In desperation, Zaperc had turned to an unauthorized biography-cum-self-help book entitled "The Luffa Way".   He then assembled a band of followers and led them here, to Nat-Chezz II, where he planned to protect it from invaders, just as Luffa had done for other planets.   It was going well, right until the real Luffa showed up and turned his entire movement upside down.  
Meeting her was an honor, though she was very different from what Zaperc had envisioned.  For one thing, Luffa was a woman, and she acted very much like most off the typical Saiyans he had known throughout his life.  At the same time, she had an idealistic streak that put his own lofty dreams to shame.  
Zaperc longed to achieve greater glory, if not for himself, then for his son, and for the Saiyan race as a whole.    Luffa, however, seemed to have an almost apocalyptic worldview at times.  She never quite came out and said so, but she seemed almost disappointed that she wasn't constantly fighting a desperate battle to the death.  All Saiyans loved to fight, but there was something different about her, something that ran deeper than the golden transformation she used to manifest her immense power.  
He wondered if Luffa had been changed by her evolution, or if she had been that way from the start.   As he and his followers sat in a half-circle to learn at her feet, he hoped that the answers would come forth through her lessons.   Thus far, however, all he had learned was that she was a very unorthodox teacher, and she didn't seem to care if it made her students impatient.  
Standing before them, Luffa balanced herself on the toes of  her right foot.   She then crossed her left leg over her right thigh, bending her knee such that her left foot was pointing toward the sky.    
“I know this seems a little weird,” she said, “but it’s a pretty effective technique, especially when you’re surrounded by multiple enemies.   Now, you’ll want to put your left arm up like this, elbow straight, with the wrist bent so your hand is over your head, palm down.   Then you put your right arm up like this, parallel to your shoulders.  Bend the elbow and bring your right hand palm up in front of your chest.    It’s like you’re using your hands to sort of frame your face.   The pose is critical to the technique, so if you get it wrong you could be wide open to an attack.  Any questions so far?”
Brockle raised his hand.   Zaperc smiled with pride.   While he was grateful for all his followers, he hoped that his son would benefit from these lessons most of all.   Brockle was extremely talented for his age, and with the right guidance, Zaperc was sure he could become a warrior on Luffa's level.  He lacked patience, true, but at least he was asking questions about Luffa's skills instead of resenting her for them.  
“Go ahead Brockle,” Luffa said.  
“Why the hell are we doing this?”  Brockle asked.  
Zaperc sighed and closed his eyes.   Brockle still had a long way to go.
“Because the Shiei Fist is a brilliant technique,” Luffa replied.   “I picked it up while fighting a horde of shadow warriors on Planet Zansu.   The Zansans who developed it couldn’t do a whole lot with it, but in the hands of a Saiyan, the explosive wave is--”
“This is stupid!” Brockle growled.   “You said you would teach us something useful, and you’re showing off alien dance moves.”
Luffa dropped the pose and approached Brockle.  “Is that so?” she said.    “Well maybe you’d like to teach me something.”
Brockle sniffed with contempt.  “What’s the use?” he asked.  “You’re so strong, you can afford to use whatever sloppy techniques you please.”
“Oh, is that my problem?” Luffa said.    “You admit that I’m stronger than you, so you want to salve your ego by pretending you have more finesse.    Well I’ll tell you what, Brockle.   Why don���t you show me your finishing technique, your ultimate move, and I’ll evaluate it for you.”
“You’re on,” Brockle said.   “It’ll be worth it to put you in your place for once, woman.”  
In spite of the hostility between Luffa and Brockle, Zaperc was hopeful.   As much as he wanted Brockle to respect Luffa, he also longed for Luffa to recognize Brockle's potential, to see Brockle the way Zaperc did.  Perhaps this demonstration would show her that Brockle was worthy of her respect.    
Luffa waved for Brockle to begin, and he gathered his ki, powering up to his maximum strength.   Luffa watched him and crossed her arms, apparently fascinated to see what he would do.  
He held his hands in front of his face and made the tips of his index fingers glow crimson.    Then he began to wave his fingers in an intricate pattern, weaving a complex image of red light that trailed his hands as they moved.   In a matter of seconds, he had created a globe of criss-crossed energy tendrils, and he smiled arrogantly as it floated above his outstretched palm.    
“The Devil Mesh!” Brockle announced.   “I can make it change direction, but it can also alter its shape in mid-flight.  It can tangle enemies like a net, or impale them like a spear!”
Zaperc beamed with pride.   The Devil Mesh was based upon simpler techniques Zaperc had used for decades.   Brockle had managed to refine them into something far greater, and he seemed to complete the execution of the technique a little faster each time he tried it.  
Luffa rubbed her chin thoughtfully as she considered what he had made.    “Interesting,” she said.   “It’s a little too clever by half, but I like the versatility.”
“It’s only ‘too clever’ because you’re too stupid to do it yourself!” Brockle snarled. 
“Well, I’ll give it a try,” Luffa said.  
To Zaperc's surprise, she didn’t bother building up her ki.   Instead she simply made all ten of her fingertips glow, and she waved them around with an intense speed, completing a globe like Brockle’s in a fraction of the time.  
“That... you can’t...” Brockle gasped.  
“I just did,” Luffa said.   “It’s a little tricky, but kind of fun to play with.    It’d make a good training exercise for a kid.   And it’d be a good lesson on spotting weaknesses in techniques.”
“Fool!” Brockle growled.   “There is no weakness to the Devil Mesh!”  
Luffa pointed her finger at Brockle and fired a thin beam of light at the crimson sphere floating over his hand.    
It exploded in his face.    
“It’s so complex that it's unstable,” Luffa said.   She waited for him to finish coughing before she continued her explanation.   “If you actually made one of those in the middle of a fight, your enemy could easily sabotage it before you’d ever get a chance to use it.   It wouldn’t even take much power to pull that off.   Even a weakened or dying opponent could still have enough energy to take you down with him.”
Zaperc was stunned, almost as if the Devil Mesh had exploded in his own face.  Only a moment ago, he thought of it as his son's greatest achievement, and Luffa had deconstructed it with ease.  She didn't even need her Super Saiyan form to do it.   He knew she was powerful, and he had long assumed she was brilliant, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined!
She quickly dismantled her own Devil Mesh  before any of her students got any bright ideas.    “Now, maybe we can get back to the Shiei Fist?”
Brockle gnashed his teeth as he sat back down.  Zaperc wished he could offer him some sort of encouragement, but it was better to let things take their course.   Luffa's training was a bitter pill to swallow, but she *was* the Super Saiyan.   If she couldn't show Brockle the way to the next level, then no one could.
*******
Deep in the dense, treacherous jungle the Saiyan had been using for training, Zatte was helping Jikama to his feet.  
"How long was I out?" he asked as he rubbed his forehead.  
"About an hour," Zatte said.  
"You've been waiting here for me to wake up this whole time?" Jikama asked.   He rose to his full height, and while he wasn't quite as tall as some of his comrades, he was still massive enough for Zatte to fit entirely in his shadow.
"Normally, I wouldn't stick around," Zatte said with a shrug.  "But you're not nearly as sore a loser as the others.   Especially Hijik.  I took him down about six hundred yards that way.  Went back and shot him again twenty minutes ago, just to prove a point."
She patted the large pistol holstered on her hip as she said this.  
"It's because I'm only half-Saiyan," Jikama said.  "I find I'm not nearly as hot-headed as the rest of them."
"I don't care if you're half, full, or double-Saiyan," Zatte said.  "Hijik's a dick, and being a dick for no good reason is a good way to get yourself killed.  Anyway, my wife's as pure-blooded as he is, and she still knows how to show a little respect."
Jikama chuckled.   "Not to me, she doesn't," he said.  
Zatte made a concerned frown as she looked up at him.   "Something bothering you, Jikama?" she asked.  "I know Luffa's rough on you guys, but it's for your own good, trust me."
He shook his head and smiled.   "It's nothing I'm not used to," he said.   "Saiyans look down on half-breeds like me.  Oh, the others are accepting enough, but only up to a point.  Aliens like you are on thing, but a half-Chezzi like me will always be one foot in, one foot out."
Zatte nodded.  "But you did really well today.   That's why I hung around, to congratulate you.  You tracked me down to within fifty feet.   I don't know how you kept picking up my trail, but I'm impressed."
"I knew I couldn't rely on smell or sound," Jikama said, "and your power lets you hide your ki, so I decided to try focusing on the ki of our surroundings instead."  He waved his thick arm at the jungle canopy over their heads.  "I figured your powers would slightly affect my perception of the life energy from the trees and grass as you came into contact with them, and it worked, but the difference was too slight to get a fix on your location."
"Nice," Zatte said.  "You'll have to hone your senses until you can get a fix.  And I'll have to work on covering my tracks a little better.   You're resourceful, Jikama.   That's the high praise where I come from, and if Luffa doesn't appreciate that, she'll get an earful from me."
"That's kind of you to say," Jikama said anxiously, "but I wouldn't want to cause any arguments between the two of you."
"Trust me, one more won't hurt," Zatte said.  "Maybe the other Saiyans won't respect you, but I expect better from Luffa."
"To be fair," Jikama said, "I will say that I find her a refreshing change from most Saiyans I've met."
"What do you mean?" Zatte asked.  
Jikama shrugged.  "She looks down on me, sure," he said, "but she seems almost more disappointed with the purebreds."
*******
[28 February 234 Before Age.  Bigreen.]
Chirad was a librarian and aspiring historian, but after he helped Luffa save Planet Bigreen from the evil Hamey, he had been hailed as a great hero.  He was only one-quarter Saiyan, and his power was only a meager fraction of Luffa’s might, but the Bigreenese still adored him as their local champion, and revered him as an expert on Saiyans.
While he appreciated their esteem, he knew he didn’t deserve it.  Luffa and her friends had done most of the work in liberating Bigreen, but they had gone and he had stayed, and so his role in the adventure had been amplified in the public opinion.  All that really mattered to him was that it got the girl from the Special Collections desk to finally notice him.
"Now just wait here, Emeral, I’ll speak with the Director and it should only take a minute and then when I get done heh-heh.  We’ll go see a movie!  How’s that?"
She lolled her head to one side and made a high-pitched giggle, which Chirad took as a sign of approval.  Just as he was about to enter the Security Director’s office, the door opened, and someone stepped out to greet him.
"Ah, you must be Chirad," he said cordially.  "Yes, of course you are I’d recognize that wild mane of black hair anywhere.  Very rugged, it suits a man like you, a descendant of the Space Warriors, mmm yes indeed won’t you come inside?"
Chirad was surprised.  "Uhhhhh... Director Pine I was just about to go into your office wow how about that, weird."
Pine led him inside and offered him a seat across from his desk.  "I’m afraid the situation is very serious, Chirad, though I wish it wasn’t ohhhhh, I certainly hope you can help us errr... please have a seat, oh, well you already have heh heh heh.  Very convenient.  I don't mind at all!"
Chirad only knew that a Saiyan had arrived on Bigreen recently.  This was not unusual in itself, as Bigreen was on very friendly terms with Saiyans from all walks of life.  But Chirad knew that something must have gone wrong, or they wouldn’t have asked for him to get involved.
"Director," he said, "if you need someone beaten up, well, I’ll help my planet any way that I can but I’m not that strong.  I mean I’m stronger than most people but when it comes to Space Warriors... uhhhh?"
"Ah, you’re too modest, Chirad," the Director said.  "But I only wish it were that simple.  Yes a powerful menace that even you couldn’t defeat what a treat that would be compared to this!  Even if you failed to save us we could always contact your friend Ruhffer to come and save us.   Yes, I doubt that any normal enemy could stand against a Space Super Warrior like her but our problem is very different look at this."
He tossed an envelope onto his desk and slid it over to where Chirad could reach it.  Chirad opened it to find several crime scene photographs of a dead woman clad in traditional Saiyan attire.  There was no sign of any wounds, except for the amputation of her tail.  There was also an autopsy report that concluded the Saiyan had been poisoned by an unidentified toxin.
"Now, Chirad, as you already know, we like to maintain good relations with the Space Warriors and their home planet of Saiya," Pine said.  "That’s why it’s especially bad that this woman isn’t just a murder victim oh no.  She was also a minister--that’s right-- in the court of King Rehval, yes the very King of the Space Warriors!"
"Then you mean the King of the Space Warriors sent his minister here?" Chirad asked.
"Hmm?  Not in an official capacity you see no she was here on personal business though I’m not privy to such matters, being personal as they so often are," Pine said.
Chirad understood.  Even if the minister hadn’t been attached to a diplomatic envoy, her murder would still be a strain on Bigreenese/Saiyan relations.  He still had more questions than answers, but at least now he understood why the highest law enforcement official on the planet was involved with the case.
What Chirad still didn’t know was how he was supposed to help with any of this, but somehow he doubted that he and Emeral were going to make it in time to see that movie he promised her.
NEXT: The Roles We Fill
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mymuseisacademia · 4 years
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About
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~Basic~
Name: Katsuki Bakugo
Alias: Undetermined 
Age: 15 - 16 years
Gender: Male
Birthday: April 20th
Zodiac: Taurus
Height: 172 cm (5′7″)
Hair: Ash Blonde
Eyes: Red
Blood Type: A
Quirk: Explosion
~Personality~
Katsuki is a crude, arrogant, short-tempered, and aggressive person, especially at the beginning of the series. Katsuki tends to come off as an anti-hero, if not downright villainous for those not familiar with him. This problematic behavior goes all the way back to his early childhood days when he was known to bully a young, Quirkless Izuku Midoriya. He eventually shows no remorse about that. However, after being accepted into U.A. High School and experiencing several personal defeats, one of them even coming from Izuku, Katsuki has gradually changed into a less antagonistic person, albeit still retaining a lot of his unpleasant traits.
Determined and thirsty for victory, Katsuki smiles eerily when in the middle of a battle. He is incredibly focused on achieving his own authentic victories and has learned to never underestimate his opponents. Katsuki is not only very talented at fighting, but also very intelligent and extremely perceptive, capable of strategic planning and holding some of the highest grades in his class, to the point that some even consider him a natural genius.
While a rather volatile hero-in-training, with his volatile nature being seen as villainous by many outside of his class, Katsuki is smart enough to discern who his enemies and allies are. He is not known to be particularly warm and open with the people on his side, but will act less unfriendly and sometimes even kind to those that manage to earn his respect. Because of his attitude and vulgar language, Katsuki's U.A. classmates often react negatively to him, although they have come to appreciate his skills and warm up to his personality. Katsuki matures slowly through his time at U.A., coming to befriend some of his classmates and willingly engaging in social interaction with his fellow classmates, though remaining aloof and solitary for the most part.
Katsuki tends to disregard the notion that Quirks shouldn't be used in public, and will activate his Quirk for a number of reasons, such as to intimidate someone, to punctuate a point, out of frustration, or even if he just feels like showing off. Katsuki values honesty highly and never lies, to the point his brash candor is seen by some as rude and unsympathetic. He is never afraid of speaking what's on his mind and will notice when people are not being truthful to him. This shows that, despite his anti-social habits, Katsuki actually has good judgement of character.
Due to the constant praise of his abilities and his powerful Quirk, Katsuki developed a superiority complex, and because of that, he desires to be the first and best at everything. As pointed out by many people, Katsuki loves to win above all else and cannot stand it when he doesn't, leading him to lose his already short temper or, less often, sulk. As such, he is fiercely competitive and will never settle for less than the number one spot. However, Katsuki also values hard work and fair play, and will refuse to acknowledge a winning result if he feels that his victory was not earned fairly. He detests being looked down by others, which normally angers him, and will hold contempt towards those that don't take him seriously, while recognizing the effort of those that manage to put up a challenge against him, like, for example, Ochaco Uraraka and Eijiro Kirishima.
Katsuki is immensely prideful and prefers to act alone, as he hates the idea of having to rely on others to assist him unless he is recognized as the absolute leading figure within a team. At the beginning of the series, Katsuki's cooperativeness was nothing short of atrocious, often ignoring his partners' ideas and suggestions for his own very direct approaches. After a while, his teamwork skills gradually improve, but Katsuki still comes off as condescending to his teammates due to his usual tone, but he now acknowledges their importance, protecting them from harm while expecting them to do the same for him in return.
Katsuki often has difficulty accepting his mistakes and shortcomings, and will fiercely deny them whenever they are pointed out by others, regardless of who they are. That doesn't mean, however, that Katsuki doesn't listen to advice, having come to realize his faults and how to somewhat improve on them thanks to the words and actions of other people like All Might and Best Jeanist, but because of his pride, Katsuki never outright admits it. He prefers to self-reflect alone and in silence, becoming a bit more brooding during those periods.
Katsuki's pride has cost him victories on numerous occasions, like the Battle Trial and the Provisional Hero License Exam. His pride is so intense that, when pitted together with Izuku against All Might, he outright refused his partner's help, even saying that he'd rather lose than work with Izuku to pass the exam by using Izuku's abilities and power. However, after realizing the true difficulty of the exam and being lectured by Izuku, Katsuki was able to put his pride aside temporarily in order to cooperate with Izuku effectively.
Katsuki has a more vulnerable side, having been led to tears due to damaged pride a few times. Katsuki has also shown moments of fear and guilt, the latter due to viewing himself and his own weakness as the cause of All Might losing his remaining power and retiring as a hero. Still, due to years of misunderstandings, tension and pride, Katsuki has difficulty doing the same thing towards Izuku.
While his inspiration for becoming a hero was the same as Izuku's, the Symbol of Peace, All Might, their beliefs differ: Katsuki feels a hero should never stop fighting or give up, regardless of the threat they face, and that always winning is the mark of a true hero. Furthermore, due to his arrogant and conceited behavior, various heroes, civilians, and even villains have commented on it. However, Katsuki is unwavering in his aspirations of heroism, having outright refused Tomura Shigaraki's proposal for him to join the League of Villains, even after being offered the power and ability to 'win'.
~Abilities~
Overall Abilities: Katsuki has proven to be one of the strongest students in Class 1-A, earning 3rd place in the Quirk Apprehension Test, while placing first place in both the U.A. Entrance Exam, having the most villain points, and U.A. Sports Festival, although his last opponent, Shoto Todoroki, basically surrendered at the last moment. Katsuki's fighting style is all-out offense, using his Quirk's propulsive abilities to close the distance between him and his opponents, followed by a bombardment of close-range attacks that often start with a powerful right hook. Katsuki is able to use his Explosion to propel himself through mid-air, blind opponents, and release long-range blasts, among other applications. Explosion is a versatile Quirk, especially for battle situations, as the recoil caused by the blasts can be exploited by Katsuki for mobility purposes. His overall fighting style and Quirk handling are reminiscent to how Nejire Hado utilizes her Wave Motion Quirk.
During the U.S.J. Incident, Katsuki was able to single handedly overpower and immobilize Kurogiri, a highly capable villain. At the Sports Festival, he was able to defeat Fumikage Tokoyami and Shoto Todoroki, who are also considered two of the strongest students in Class 1-A (although they had disadvantages respectively in their battles against Katsuki, they still proved to be strong despite their respective limitations). When battling Shoto, Katsuki was able to pressure and overpower him when the hybrid Quirk user was using only his ice powers. Even though Shoto was defeated by Katsuki in the Sports Festival, Katsuki acknowledges that Shoto should have won their battle if had used his full power. Many notable Pro Heroes such as Shota Aizawa and All Might have praised Katsuki's prowess; even the League of Villains have taken notice of Katsuki's strength and went as far as kidnapping him even if it meant losing members of the Vanguard Action Squad as his potential membership would have far exceeded the risk. Katsuki is recognized as one of the stronger students of Class 1-A, as noted by Pixie-Bob. Izuku Midoriya stated that the entire Bakugou Escort Squad (consisting of himself, Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki, Fumikage Tokoyami, and Mezo Shoji) working together, have the potential to take on someone of All Might's caliber. After being released from his restraints by the League of Villains, who had kidnapped him, Katsuki was able to take Tomura Shigaraki by surprise by unleashing an explosion at close-range, albeit without injuring the disintegrating villain, and was confident that he could take out some of the powerful villains (which included Kurogiri, Twice, Dabi, Spinner, Mr. Compress, Magne, and Himiko Toga) before escaping, in spite of the fact that Katsuki was unaware of most of their abilities. While Katsuki did hold his own against the Villain Alliance at the Nomu Factory, he found himself struggling against the villains that had surrounded them, had it not been for the timely arrival of some of his own classmates that came to rescue him.
At the beginning of his impromptu second battle against Izuku, Katsuki was able to overpower him when the latter was using 5% of One for All. Much later when Izuku raised his power output to 8% and fought on par with Katsuki, the blonde was still was able to hold his own, but was fairly injured and taken by surprise a few times by the One For All inheritor's heightened physical prowess. In spite of Izuku's drastic improvement, Katsuki won the battle, although, the nature and outcome of the battle were redundant. During the Joint Training Arc, Katsuki claimed he has gotten stronger since his subsequent battle with Izuku. Katsuki has displayed that, despite the cold weather conditions of the winter season weakening his Quirk, he can still fight efficiently. Katsuki has also become slightly less insubordinate when paired with people and has developed a degree of camaraderie, as he utilizes his top-tier abilities to repel opponents that overpower his comrades. With the help of his teammates, Katsuki was capable of defeating Setsuna Tokage, a recommended student who is not only one of the strongest students in Class 1-B, but was thought to have the potential of defeating Katsuki himself. 
Enhanced Strength: Katsuki possesses above-average physical strength, as he is can use his Grenade Bracers without any recoil, whereas Izuku nearly dislocated his arm just from using one. Katsuki was also able to use his physical strength to go toe-to-toe with Izuku when the latter is using his Quirk at 5-8%.
Keen Intellect: Despite looking like he'd just be a punk with no brains, Katsuki has proven to be extremely intelligent and strategic. While he occasionally doesn’t have preemptive strategies like most people, he does analyze his opponents weaknesses in the midst of battle. However, despite his analytical skills, Katsuki sometimes overlooks minor and crucial details. After he and Eijiro Kirishima intentionally lunged themselves at Kurogiri, Katsuki was able to figure out that part of Kurogiri's physical body has to be present when using his Warp Gate, so Katsuki targeted that said portion and successfully immobilized the villain. Even when fighting the weaker villains at the U.S.J., Katsuki quickly assessed which of the attacking villains were the most dangerous threat in the long term.
During the Cavalry Battle of the U.A. Sports Festival, he formed a strategy using the quirks of his teammates in order to get the headbands of Neito Monoma and was successful in doing so. In the climax of his battle with Ochaco Uraraka, he surmised that she had a plan prepared to use against him, but he incorrectly assumed that Izuku was the one that gave her the strategy to begin with; this assumption was corrected when Izuku clarified he wasn't involved with Ochaco's strategy. In the battles against Eijiro and Fumikage, Katsuki barraged them both with explosions in order to discern the weaknesses of their respective Quirks: Eijiro's Hardening weakens in drawn out battles, and Fumikage's Dark Shadow is susceptible to light. At the beginning of his battle with Shoto, Katsuki effortlessly used his explosions to tunnel through the former’s "Heaven-Piercing Ice Wall", and noted that Shoto's aim was off, realizing the wall of ice wasn’t as potent as it was when Shoto battled against Hanta Sero. When paired with Izuku in the final exams, Katsuki begrudgingly put his insubordination aside and came up with a compromise that involved him and Izuku using his Grenade Bracers to unleash maximum firepower at point-blank range to briefly stun All Might, and afterwards, the pair rushes to the escape gate. Katsuki's plan worked for a while, but he oversaw All Might's incredible speed, resulting in the Symbol of Peace destroying his gauntlets, making the duo lose their maximum firepower.
Pro Heroes (such as All Might) have mentioned several times his great potential and battle-sense. Eraserhead stated that in battle, Katsuki shines his brightest. Another testament of intellectual prowess, is that Katsuki scored 3rd place in the midterms, proving how academically efficient he is. Since the League of Villains took Katsuki to their hideout and took time to explain their plan in order to recruit him, Katsuki correctly deduced that the villains needed him alive, so they weren't going to risk killing him. While fighting Seiji Shishikura at the Provisional Hero License Exam, Katsuki anticipated that he would be victimized by the former's quirk, and tossed a grenade to Denki Kaminari, so Stun Gun Hero could free him. This strategy ended up allowing Katsuki and Eijiro breaking free from Seiji's Meatball Quirk, and the trio of U.A. students winning the match after catching the Shiketsu High School student off-guard.
Katsuki was also able to piece together the truth of Izuku's Quirk after being kidnapped by the League of Villains, and seeing All For One steal Quirks which coincided with Izuku's words of getting a Quirk which he correctly deduced came from All Might, with whom he noticed Izuku had a connection to This is another facet of Katsuki being considered a natural born genius.
Katsuki was also able to piece together the truth of Izuku's Quirk after being kidnapped by the League of Villains, and seeing All For One steal Quirks which coincided with Izuku's words of getting a Quirk which he correctly deduced came from All Might, with whom he noticed Izuku had a connection to This is another facet of Katsuki being considered a natural born genius.
Leadership Skills: During round four of the Joint Training, Setsuna Tokage admitted that even if her team had attacked him all at once, they stood no chance of victory. In the end, despite Class 1-B's exceptional teamwork and Tokage's strategic planning, they failed to capture a single member of Katsuki's team, mostly thanks to Katsuki's efforts, adaptability, and skills.
Musical Talent: As shown during the U.A. School Festival Arc, Katsuki is highly skilled at playing a drum kit, having gone through classes in the past.
~Quirk~
Explosion: Katsuki's Quirk allows him to secrete nitroglycerin-like sweat from his palms and detonate it at will to create explosions. The more Katsuki sweats, the stronger his explosions become. As stated by Best Jeanist, Katsuki has a strong grasp on the applications of his Quirk.
Katsuki usually uses small, powerful explosions from his hands to not only blast his opponents but to propel himself and navigate through the air as well. He can keep up his explosions long enough to break through Eijiro's hardening Quirk, and negate Shoto's Giant Ice Wall for short while before being overwhelmed. The blasts are powerful enough to send Katsuki flying at his opponents without much time for them to react, and he can use them swiftly enough to evade incoming attacks, even in the air.
As part of his training, Katsuki submerged his hands into boiling water to expand his sweat glands, then create chain explosions to increase the scale of his attacks.
~Super Moves~
Blast Rush Turbo: Katsuki throws his hands back and uses explosions to propel himself. He uses this both on the ground to increase his speed and through the air to achieve a pseudo form of flight. He first used this technique on the ground during the Quirk Apprehension Test. The first time he used it to fly was during the Obstacle Race.
Stun Grenade: Katsuki starts by creating a sphere of light between his hands that explodes into a large scale flash. Similar to the effect of an actual stun grenade, the flash of light blinds anyone close by. He first used this technique to defeat Fumikage Tokoyami. 
Zero Distance Stun Grenade: A variation where Katsuki fires off his Stun Grenade at point-blank range of the opponent to immediately stun and immobilize them with little lasting damage. This variation was first used against Setsuna in the fourth round of the Joint Training Battle.
Howitzer Impact: This move is the strongest move in Katsuki's arsenal, which involves Katsuki taking to the air, and then using explosions to propel himself in a circular motion to create a tornado. This tornado builds up oxygen to fuel the incoming explosion. After colliding with the target, Katsuki releases the powerful aforementioned explosion. Present Mic compared the effectiveness of the technique to that of an actual missile. Katsuki first used Howitzer Impact in the final match of the U.A. Sports Festival Finals. He has also shown that he can release the fueled explosion in midair, without having to make contact with the target.
AP Shot: Katsuki stretches out one of his hands and uses his other hand to form a circle on the palm of his outstretched hand. Katsuki then fires an explosion through the circle, which creates a concentrated blast beam. By focusing the path of his explosions into a single point instead of around his whole palm, Katsuki creates a concentrated blast with reduced area of impact, but with enough power to successfully pierce solid concrete. 
AP Shot: Auto-Cannon: A rapid-fire version of his AP Shot Technique. The explosion power is reduced in order to avoid dealing severe damage to human targets. This variation was first used against Seiji Shishikura in the first stage of the Provisional Hero License Exam.
Explode-A-Pult: While in mid-air, Katsuki grabs an opponent with one of his arms, then propels himself in a spinning motion by firing explosions with his free arm. Once he gains enough momentum, Katsuki forcefully throws his opponent with the aid of another explosion. He first used this technique against Togaru Kamakiri in the fourth round of the Joint Training Battle.
~Gear~
Grenadier Bracers: An adjustment added to Katsuki's hero costume that stores his nitroglycerin-like sweat. Once filled, he can pull the grenade pin in order to release a large blast, as shown when he fought Izuku in All Might's Heroes vs. Villains test. It has enough explosive power to destroy all parts of the building within its blast radius. This equipment was first used during the Battle Trial.
Improvised Grenades: Around the belt of his Hero costume are several containers made to look like hand grenades. These can store Katsuki's nitroglycerin-like sweat, and be used as regular grenades at a later time. These were first used in a practical way during the Provisional license exam by Denki.
Knee Pads: These are very blunt metallic attachments to Katsuki's knees. They are designed so he can "kill with his knees", but he has not displayed such use for them as of yet.
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I haven’t gotten to see the early showing of the first ep yet (if it’s still available) but here’s a promising review! :)
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/review/deuce-review-1032504
James Franco and Maggie Gyllenhaal lead the remarkable ensemble of David Simon and George Pelecanos' entertaining and substantive HBO drama about sex and power in 1971 Manhattan.
In many ways, The Deuce represents the logical and satisfying culmination of David Simon's HBO journey from The Corner through The Wire and Treme. Long fascinated with the way that institutions grind down individuals and the citizenry, turning people and neighborhoods into statistics and commodities, Simon and co-creator George Pelecanos are able to use the New York City sex trade in the early 1970s to explore the exploitation of the human body itself.
A gritty, grimy (but rarely grim) tapestry of pimps and hoes, cops and pornographers, feminists and misogynists, crusaders and deadbeats, The Deuce has a lower intimidation threshold than Simon's last HBO project, the tremendous and tremendously wonky public housing miniseries Show Me a Hero, but it still balances the salacious with the journalistically inquisitive. It's another Simon drama that's a discipline-spanning sociological treatise on one level and a showcase for dozens of memorable, colorful characters on another. After watching the full eight-episode first season, which premieres on September 10, most of my complaints boil down to wishing The Deucehad at least five more episodes in which to let rapidly unfolding storylines breathe a bit more.
The show's initial point-of-entry is twin brothers Vincent and Frankie Martino (both James Franco). Vincent is ultra-trustworthy and responsible by standards that allow him to be a little bit of a progressive white knight, while also abandoning his kids and philandering wife (Zoe Kazan) early on with no serious audience repercussions. Frankie is a hot-headed vagabond who thinks nothing of running up gambling debts that fall on his brother. Their respective skills quickly make them valuable to Rudy Pipilo (Michael Rispoli), a Gambino capo who brings the Martinos into an ambitious, morally murky business plan for the 42nd Street area involving bars, massage parlors and sex shops.
The "James Franco plays twin brothers in a '70s porn drama" hook will lure some viewers in (and scare a few viewers off), but The Deuce is an ensemble and Frankie and Vincent stand out because they're played by the cast's biggest, most easily marketable actor and not because they're the show. To put it in The Wire terms, they're double-McNulty, a good star surrounded by countless juicier character roles. Vincent and Frankie share a mustache and Franco differentiates them effectively in small ways, via the wild glint in Frankie's eyes or the weary disapproval in Vincent's mien. Perhaps because Franco also had to be behind the camera directing two episodes, you never feel like the Martinos are dominating the screen and, as such, it's a perfect performance; you're glad when he's around and rarely miss him when he isn't.
There's too much happening in The Deuce to give more than a cursory plot summary. Maggie Gyllenhaal is probably the second lead after Franco as Eileen, who walks the streets under the name Candy, suffering indignities in order to support a son who lives with his grandmother. Eileen takes an interest in the pre-Deep Throat world of adult cinema and the greatness of Gyllenhaal's performance is in the contrasts she's able to convey between Candy's fatigued-but-talented professionalism, Eileen's growing desperation to change her life and her captivated zeal for the world of adult movies and the control she thinks it might offer her.
Candy works without a manager, which frustrates the various pimps, including Larry (Gbenga Akinnagbe), Rodney (Cliff "Method Man" Smith) and C.C. (Gary Carr), and makes her a curiosity and inspiration for the sex workers, including fresh-off-the-bus Lori (Emily Meade) and inquisitive Darlene (Dominique Fishback).
And then there are the police officers, going between benign neglect, superficial enforcement and criminal collusion at a moment when the NYPD was under scrutiny for corruption. Officers Alston (Lawrence Gilliard Jr.) and Flanagan (Don Harvey) are central to that storyline, especially once Sandra (Natalie Paul), a reporter with an interest in the call girls, catches Alston's eye.
Some viewers will find the nudity, sex and, in particular, sexual violence to be barriers to entry for The Deuce, but like most Simon stories, the series is about power; the intermingling of sexual power and financial power is the text of the show. An early conversation between two pimps comparing their workplace approaches to Richard Nixon's carrot/stick incentivizing sets up a juxtaposition between how those with institutional clout and those who work outside of the system exert control in similar ways. The same is true of figures of authority, with law enforcement and criminal elements meting out punishment and offering protection in comparable fashion. As always, it's the exchange of money that drives everything, whether enterprises are entirely legitimate, organized rackets or in a state of flux because the courts are deciding minute-by-minute what is and isn't allowed (and the smart operators are the ones preparing to capitalize on every new loophole or opportunity). The characters in The Wire made cool, glib references to "the game," even as viewers were aware of the life-and-death stakes of the drug trade — and The Deuce is similarly enticing when it comes to documenting the swagger and glib cleverness of jive-talking pimps and sassy hookers, without ever ignoring the parasitic repugnance and frequent human misery of it all.
The world of The Deuce is often only a step up from the sewer, and led by pilot director Michelle MacLaren and cinematographers Pepe Avila del Pino and Vanja Cernjul, the show avoids being one of those period pieces in which every car looks new and every costume seems straight off the rack. The aromas of body odor, cheap cologne, garbage, cigarette smoke and inconsistently used disinfectant pervade every frame and unlike Vinyl, which will probably be a frequent point of comparison before people watch The Deuce, this new drama only sometimes becomes excessively enamored with nostalgic glamour. There's some nerdy excitement at the quality of the movies on the various marquees or the name-dropping of the occasional pre-iconic band, but this isn't a show that forgets the disillusionment of the moment for the low-income characters struggling to make ends meet and to be heard in a variety of civil rights struggles.
It's a show about exploitation and it's a milieu that runs the risk of being treated exploitatively, but with MacLaren directing two episodes and Uta Briesewitz and Roxann Dawson directing others, you can see the effort to not leer at the frequently exposed skin or, at the very least, never lose the context in which the skin is being bared. Anything that threatens to be sexy is only sexy to the point at which you spot the mildew on the walls, hear the sirens out the window, recognize the scary hunger in a john's expression or get any other reminder of the business transaction at hand.
The cast is tremendous, pulling from every corner of Simon's repertory company with the previously mentioned names plus the likes of Chris Bauer, Anwan Glover, Michael Kostroff and Chris Coy. Standouts in a group with no bad performances include the sweetly vulnerable Fishback, amiably well-meaning Gillard, darkly intense Akinnagbe and the spectacular Carr, whose suave-but-chilling C.C. may be the show's breakout character. David Krumholtz steals scenes as a limitedly artistic adult filmmaker and Margarita Levieva, whose student-turned-barmaid Abby is one of the show's more conventional characters, burns up the screen. Meade, Method Man, Jamie Neumann, Mustafa Shakir and even, beginning what may be his great comeback, Ralph Macchio all shine.
There are too many great things in The Deuce for them all to be serviced in eight hours and that's the show's weakness, such as it is. When a storyline like Officer Alston's arc with reporter Sandra feels rushed, that's a minor disappointment. There's a lot of hasty narrative here. It's worse when you sense that a couple of emotional beats with different prostitutes might have landed harder if we'd gotten a few more establishing scenes with the characters in earlier episodes.
That need for more is pervasive. We've only begun to get names, much less backstories and motivations, for some characters. The mob stuff is very familiar and needs more depth if they want me to think it's essential. At times I felt like I only understood what was happening with the cops because I'd seen The Wire and I've seen Serpico. Coy's character, a bartender who was at Stonewall, keeps the show's focus from feeling exclusively heterosexual, but the still-criminalized emerging gay underground is underserved.
Simon and Pelecanos are just beginning to put the machinery of The Deuce into motion in these eight episodes. As an opening act, the show's first season is substantive, provocative and entertaining. It's a journey through a certain kind of hell, but I'm already eager to return.
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