#i got an updated tracking number and a message saying its on the way

[endlessfuckup]

my merch finally shipped woop woop

#if you ordered merch from kiswe during wad check your email #i got an updated tracking number and a message saying its on the way #i was starting to think something happened to my order #was getting worried lol #but my hoodie shirt and jacket are on the way 🎉🎉 #dan and phil #amazingphil #daniel howell #dnp #phan

[nach0]

I quit.

Summary: Jackie was a harvester for Velocity Intelligence, gathering resources from barren planets. When one of her assigned worlds isn't as empty as reported, will she be able to continue her mission?

A short story based on a poem that I was meant to write for English, it got very out of hand very quickly haha

Word count: 625

Featuring art at the bottom!

Jackie stared ahead at the planet she was supposed to land on, frowning. Her eyes tracked across the animals roaming the surface, the information file clenched tightly in her hand.

“Nora, this planet was supposed to be baren.”

“Correct. At the last observation, there was no life on Planet JX1. I will now update our system’s files.” N.O.R.A, the ship’s AI, paused for a few moments before continuing. “Systems updated.”

Jackie nodded in acknowledgement, lost in thought. She’d been a harvester with Velocity Intelligence for most of her life, having joined as soon as she’d been able in an attempt to escape her parents, and she’d never had a reason to quit.

Her job was simple, land on a planet, set up the machines to pull the resources out of the ground, and haul it all back to the factories. Occasionally her missions would be delayed because of fights over the territory, (which never made sense to her, Velocity owned everything, there were no rival companies,) but there was never any life by the time she was cleared to land.

Gaze drifting back to the animals, (and forcing herself to get over her shock that there even were animals,) she looked closer at what they were doing. They resembled large goats, though they had no horns and were much larger than any back on earth, shaggy coats a greenish grey. Fur trailed from their heads all the way down their backs in spikes, the tips various bright shades of colours.

She chuckled slightly as one of the smaller ones, fur floppy and covering its eyes, tripped over its own feet and let out what she could only assume was an indignant bleat.

“I have received orders from command,” Nora said suddenly, breaking Jackie out of her thoughts. “The mission is to proceed as scheduled.”

“Wha- but there’s life down there!” Jackie protested, jumping to her feet. “We’re only supposed to harvest from empty planets!”

Nora’s robotic voice sounded almost regretful. “I am aware. I informed command that this was a breach of protocols, and they threatened to deactivate me.”

Anger rose in Jackie as she opened her mouth to respond, only for a message to appear on her screen.

Incoming call from: Mission Director Tristan

As the camera blinked on she automatically snapped into a salute, only to drop it with a scowl. She wasn’t going to respect the people so clearly going against everything she had been told about the company.

“Pilot. Why are you not continuing with your mission? You have your orders.”

“Because the orders are wrong,” she said firmly, fire in her eyes. “There’s life on that planet, I won’t drain it.”

Tristan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “They’re clearly a bunch of herbivores, they can’t hurt you. You’re either scared or soft, and either way you’re getting a pay cut unless you land right now.”

Jackie paled. She was barely meeting her expenses as it was, she couldn’t afford to earn any less. But then Tristan smirked like he’d won, and she made up her mind.

“Oh I’ll land alright.” She squared her shoulders, reaching up for the company logo on her jumpsuit. “But not to harvest the resources. I’m protecting that planet, whether you like it or not.”

“You’ll be fired if you don’t stop this resistance right now!”

Letting out a laugh, Jackie ripped off the logo and threw it to the ground.

“I’ll save you the trouble. I quit.”

She hung up, blocking the number when he tried to call back.

“I’d always wanted to be a researcher before I started working here,” Jackie hummed casually, turning away from the screen.  “What do you say, Nora? Want to go discover a new species?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

This is a Mowgo, the animals Jackie saw on the planet! Feel free to design your own, I just got way too invested coming up with them lol

(Thank you @ghosts-gone for the help!)

I'll maybe end up writing more for this universe, I definitely want to expand on Velocity, but it probably depends on class time to write

#scifi #original writing #writing #short story #oc: Jackie #oc: N.O.V.A #my writing #nach0 writing #|<- a good a time as any to start a writing tag #yes Rocky is my pfp now

[currybain93]

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[plaidbooks]

Love Comes to Those Who Wait - Chapter 7

A/N: The plot thickens! But where’s the squad?

Masterlist / Last Chapter

Tags: kidnapping, mentions of the car crash from last chapter, unsafe driving

Words: 940

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @beardsanddetectives

Sonny listened to your phone ring and ring before going to voicemail once more. He let out a curse, slamming his phone down on his desk. Usually, the drive from your apartment to his was around twenty minutes. When thirty had passed with no message from you or Mike, he had called the latter. He tried twice before calling you, only to be met with nothing.

He quickly pulled a coat and shoes on, calling Olivia. He told her that he had a bad feeling and that he was heading over to your place. He hadn’t gotten far before he had found a traffic jam—a black car was totaled, its hood bent around a streetlight. Sonny’s heart had stopped as he recognized the license plate number.

Now, he was sitting at the precinct, going through traffic cam footage. The camera on that streetlight was, of course, broken, so he was looking at adjoining streets, trying to piece together what had happened. The crash had still been there, with cops waiting on a tow truck, so he was hoping he wasn’t far behind whoever kidnapped you and Mike.

Finally, Olivia came into the precinct with Rafael; they had been at a charity banquet but rushed over when Sonny gave them the news. Before Olivia could even speak, Rafael was behind Sonny, looking at the traffic cams.

“What’ve you found? Anything on them?” he asked, mouth next to Sonny’s ear.

He glanced up at Olivia before answering, “Two men stole an ambulance around an hour ago. It looks like that’s the vehicle that crashed Mike’s car, and I assume they loaded them into it. I’m tryin’ ta track them on traffic cams, but they’re smart, knew where most of them were.”

“So, you’ve got nothing?!” he asked, incredulous.

“I didn’t say that, counselor. I saw they were heading east, towards Queensboro Bridge—”

“Any movement over the bridge?” Olivia asked.

Sonny shook his head. “No, and I’ve looked at every camera around the bridge. They’ve gotta be there.” And by his estimation with the time on the traffic camera, they were only about an hour behind from when you and Mike were taken.

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

Sonny swore under his breath as he pulled up under the bridge. Parked underneath—where no cameras could see—was an abandoned ambulance. They must’ve switched cars. While Fin left his passenger seat to go talk to Olivia and Amanda, Sonny pulled his laptop out of the backseat.

He logged back into the traffic cams and went back to the timestamp that he had saw the ambulance. It was easier to concentrate without Rafael hovering over his back. Much to the counselor’s disappointment, he was told to stay behind at the precinct; he wasn’t a cop and didn’t know how to deal with hostage situations.

“You better keep me updated,” he had said, his voice threatening, and Olivia promised she would. In fact, Sonny glanced up and saw her on the phone; he was pretty sure she was keeping her promise from the look on her face.

Sonny’s eyes dropped back to his screen as he flipped through pictures. There was nothing for almost half an hour before an 18-wheeler was seen heading north. This was a weird street for such a big vehicle, and after flipping through pictures, he didn’t see it come from anywhere else.

“Hey Lieu, I may have something!” he called out the window. The squad all rushed over to him, and he explained his findings.

“Can you get the truck company and license plate?” Olivia asked as Fin dialed a number. “And see which way they went.”

Once Sonny had the relevant information, he relayed it to Fin, who relayed it in turn to another precinct. With his call, every trucker would be looking for the out of place 18-wheeler and would alert the police. Sonny also determined that they went north, crossed over a bridge this time, and most likely went onto the 95, heading for Canada.

Fin got back in the car, while Olivia and Amanda went back to theirs. Sonny wasted no time in starting the car and tearing out of the field before Fin even got his seatbelt on.

“Easy Carisi—I’m sure they’re fine,” Fin told him. But there was a large pit forming in Sonny’s stomach, and he had a very bad feeling about this.

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

From the timestamps on the traffic cams, Sonny figured they were only a few hours behind the truck now. There weren’t a whole lot of people on the road, thankfully—that was to be expected, since it was almost 1am—and Sonny was driving fast. At first, Fin tried to tell him to ease up on the gas, but Sonny ignored him, and Fin eventually stopped trying.

Soon enough, the calls started coming in from other truckers, claiming to have seen their suspects. Supposedly, they were around 100 miles ahead of them, and they were also driving recklessly, speeding up the highway, too fast for the other truckers to attempt to slow them down.

Fin kept on the calls while Sonny fought with himself to go faster or to be safe; it wouldn’t help if he ended up upside down in a ditch on the road. He was already going 90mph, weaving around the light traffic on the road. He flipped the lights on anytime there was any congestion, and cars hurried out of his way. Olivia and Amanda had already fell behind—Olivia was driving fast, but not Sonny fast.

Hold on, he thought to you, hoping you could sense him in some way. I’m comin’ ta get ya.

Next Chapter

#law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing

[shurisneakers]

shut in [7]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, broken bone, origami and paper planes

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!!! ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!! also gif is somewhat related except steve isn’t there sorry to crush any hopes

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Is there a reason you’re back so early?”

Both of the men nervously glanced at each other, silently urging the other to talk. A quiet form of encouragement.

“We chec- we checked all the neighbouring towns. All your safehouses,” one of them finally sputtered up after his partner elbowed him in the ribs.

“And?”

“We coordinated with all our guys across the country to look for them-”

“All I’m hearing are a bunch of excuses,” they twirled the gun on its barrel like it was a plaything. “Get to the point.”

“No one knows where they’re hiding,” he finished, swallowing thickly. “We’re still looking though. We just thought-”

“What?” their voice was surprisingly calm. “That your little status update would impress me? That I’d feel sorry for you for working so hard?”

“N-no boss,” his partner finally pitched in, saving face for his companion who opened and shut his mouth wordlessly. “Just keeping you in the loop. We’re close, I can feel-”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Both of them shut their mouths immediately. Knuckles white, nails digging into their skin as they clenched their fists shut.

“That you wanted them dead,” the first one said with faux confidence. A waver in his voice gave it away.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting the important part,” they tsk’ed, shaking their head, eyes downcast.

They didn’t give anyone a chance to react. They slammed the gun down, swiftly picking it up before taking aim at his partner’s face.

“I said I’d blow your brains out.” They pulled the trigger.

Bits of bone fragment and blood splattered across the first agent’s face. He inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling haphazardly. He had his eyes shut tightly, face away from the carcass slumped over next to him..

“I want every fucking part of this country searched,” they roared, throwing the gun to the side carelessly, leaving someone else to scurry after it. “And since it’s so fucking hard for you to finish two tasks, just get me their location.”

The agent barely nodded, looking like he was about to throw up. His partner’s blood trailed down the side of his face like sweat.

“I’ll kill them myself.”

Hugh Grant was starting to look less appealing on your 6th rewatch of Notting Hill. In fact, he was starting to blend together with the characters from Die Hard and it was becoming difficult to differentiate which part belonged to which movie.

Sam sat opposite to you at the dining table, a set of papers assigned in front of him. The TV was left on, serving as background noise and occasional fillers to substitute the lack of conversation.

“That movie is not making sense anymore,” he stated objectively.

“It stopped after the third time for me.” Your words were hushed, your focus remaining on the swan you were trying to create from scratch.

“If I hear her say ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy’ one more time, I actually think I’ll projectile vomit.” You could tell that his eyes didn’t shift from the screen though. “I can feel the bile. It’s going to happen.”

You only hummed in agreement, more interested in his lamenting than the actual movie.

Although origami wasn’t one of the skills you picked up in the fucking mafia, you still knew a few basic things. The rest you just folded with confidence and prayed it would work.

What other options did you have when you were stuck together in a house with no WiFi?

Sam had made a paper bowl to hold the car keys and the few dollars you picked up from Pierce’s place. It looked like it would fall apart at any given moment, its structural integrity questionable at best.

You had made a small flower that rested on the table in front of you. You were sure it would go missing the minute a draft entered the room.

He had given up after his contribution of the bowl. Apparently his creative expertise extended only towards that and paper airplanes, not that that stopped him. He was folding and manufacturing them with a vengeance.

“How is this supposed to help, Wilson?” you questioned, unable to contain the smile that grew on your face at the sheer number of planes he was making.

“Just because it’s not a decorative marvel-” he shot back in its defence, “-doesn’t mean it’s useless.”

“Oh, yeah? What else can it do other than not fly?” You watched as he launched one of them. It did a loop before falling miserably to the floor.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left. “Besides, your thing won’t even lift off the ground.”

“Yeah, but this one can float.” You held up the swan that you had created. That about concluded your knowledge of origami.

“That’s actually… pretty cool,” he admitted. “Teach me how to make one.”

“A true master never reveals their secrets,” you eluded, placing it on the table.

“I dare you to make another.” Sneaky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. He saw you struggle the first time.

“Why, so you can just copy off of me?” you dodged, and Sam narrowed his eyes at you. You followed the same.

Neither of you blinked for a while.

“I’m out of paper,” he finally relented, gesturing to the fleet of planes that littered the table.

“I’m out of ideas.” You paused, looking down at how you’d spent the last hour. “Do you wanna go test these outside later?”

Sam looked up eagerly and you could just tell he was intending on getting competitive. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m going for a run in some time.” You got up to stretch your limbs, shrug off the fatigue that was setting in. Along the way you left the swan and one of the paper planes on top of the mini fridge alongside the car keys. It was cute. “We could do it then?”

“Sure,” he affirmed. “What time?”

“At around 6-” your eyes landed on the clock on the wall before widening, “-shit, shit, shit, I didn't realise it was five thirty. We have a call with Ransone.”

“Phone’s on the couch,” he mentioned to the living room, sitting up straight. “Why are you freaking out? We still got a few minutes to go.”

You pushed yourself away from the table, forcing yourself to shakie off the drowsiness that had begun to set in.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you mumbled, “He gets pissy if I don’t do things his way.”

You grabbed the phone, punching in the buttons and having it at the ready.

You noticed Sam focused on you with knitted eyebrows but not voicing whatever he had on his mind.

“Ready?” you questioned, but more as a formality. You had to do it regardless.

He simply nodded, looking on as you let the phone ring. If he had noticed your antsiness towards the call, he didn’t bring it up.

Ransone picked up on the last ring, not skipping a beat in answering, “Y/N.”

“Hey Ransone.” You switched the call to speakerphone.

“Are you alone?”

You glanced at Sam. He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, edging you to continue with the arrangement you had planned the day prior.

Ransone trusted you more. He was more likely to communicate openly if Sam wasn’t around.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Where’s the other one?”

Sam silently scoffed.

“He’s taking a nap.”

“Ah,” Ransone’s tone was condescending. “How have things been?”

“It’s fine.” You press your lips into a straight line, not elucidating. “What’s the update out there?”

“Everything is a mess. We’re trying to figure out who attacked you but since there wasn’t anything left behind or any kind of trace, it’s proving to be... inconvenient.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“What, with your face on national television?” he laughed. “Nah, I’d say it’s a little too early to be thinkin’ of a road trip. Just stay where you are, I’ll tell you when you can come out.”

Your fingers were thrumming at the table rhythmically, peeking at Sam every now and then for anything he found suspicious or wanted you to ask about.

“Listen, we’ve paid off every big guy to keep this under wraps as much as possible but Pierce was an important person. All the higher ups want this to be solved as quickly as possible. They don’t care about sacrificing a player here or there.”

Pinning the blame on you was easy enough. The faster you were put away, the faster they could stage an “accident” in prison so that none of their secrets were exposed. Wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before.

“Others in the business aren’t likin’ us accusing them of attacking one of our own. Our best bet right now is Serpentine but we haven’t gotten anything to prove it.”

You doubted they ever would. Even if they did do it, Serpentine was notorious for being cunning and stealthy in their operations. They made sure there would be no tracks leading back to them.

“So, we’re at a dead-end,” you verified. There was no telling when this would end, your exit looking further and further away. “We’re fucked.”

“No. We’ll just- Y/N, listen to me,” Ransone called out, drawing your attention back to the call.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always protected you,” his voice was noticeably softer. “Don’t you trust me?”

You felt the temperature in the room drop.

“You said there would be no one there!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ransone scoffed. “I never said that.”

“I walk in there and there’s four people, completely armed.” Forcing yourself to recall it was making your head spin. Maybe you could ask the nurse for a painkiller. “It was supposed to be empty.”

“I think the blood loss is making you delirious,” he chided, looking at the bag of drips hanging above your bed. “It wasn’t even that bad-”

“You’re lying.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think it over.

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head, tone suddenly sifting to that of warning.

You knew he was. You had agreed to this mission because it was supposed to be easy. It was a break.

“Ivan was there when you briefed me.” You lifted your good arm to point at him shakily. “He knows you’re lying.”

“Does he now?” Ransone quirked an eyebrow, studying his aid who stood in the corner of the dingy hospital room.

A beat of silence passed where Ransone stared at Ivan, waiting for a reply of confirmation.

Ivan only lifted his shoulders in unawareness. “I don’t remember you sayin’ that.”

Your mouth fell agape but you quickly rushed to shut it. Fucking liars. You shouldn’t have expected anything better.

“Told you.” Ransone shrugged. “You’re a smart one, Y/N, so I’m going to let that slide this time. But next time you accuse me of something I didn’t say…”

He trailed off, resting a hand on your broken shoulder. You flinched, jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might break. You tried to imagine yourself somewhere else, desperate to reduce the quivering of your body when he squeezed it lightly.

“You know I’ve always tried to protect you.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your head to meet his eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

A beat passed before you responded.

“I do,” you said through gritted teeth, pulling your face away from him.

“I’ll ask them to up your dosage.” Ransone took a step away from you, dropping his hand. “I’m going to need my best player on the field as soon as possible.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement. Every part of your body felt like it was going to combust.

Did he really say that no one was going to be there or was it just the injuries playing with you?

“Get well soon,” he offered, one step out the door. “Buttercup.”

“You trust me, don’t you Y/N?” he repeated when you didn’t respond.

“Yes.” You swallowed, gaze falling to the floor.

“And I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to break that, would you?”

Sam raised his one hand questioningly as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. An intimidation tactic. He had been using it for several years to reinforce your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t.”

There were things you weren’t telling him, of course. Details about that day or where you and Sam were hiding right off the top of your head. More if you thought about it deeply.

“Good,” came his response. “So if there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m always a call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you soon.” He ended the call there.

You stood there blankly for a while before dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it. Usually you wouldn’t have to do that; removing the battery would be enough. This time you wanted to.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. You loathed him. Yet, you couldn’t fucking leave. 

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped back to Sam. “We still going on that run?”

__

The wind felt good.

Your muscles were burning and you could feel the constriction of your lungs but you liked it. The endorphins were working their charm.

Sam was right beside you, not questioning why there was so much aggression in your movement. You had lost track of how long you had been running. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that.

The path was paved with fallen branches and roots sticking out, forcing you to hop over some of them to avoid falling. It only annoyed you further.

You wanted to punch something. Or someone. The tension was rolling off your back in waves, and if someone saw you the’d probably believe you were going to commit an act of violence.

It was a while before you felt your steps begin to falter, the need for a proper breath taking precedence over the want to run more.

“Timeout?” you asked Sam breathlessly, slowing your pace to a jog.

“Sure about that, Usain Bolt?” he huffed, slowing his pace to match yours.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it. “T’was fun.”

Now that you had slowed down, it forced you to come to terms with how much energy you had just burnt out.

���You wanna talk about what’s on your mind or ignore it?”

“Rather not talk about it for now.” The more you thought about him, the angrier you got. And as of late, you had realised that your method of dealing with that anger wasn’t the best.

The air was getting colder. It was getting harder to see what was in front of you, relying on the few rays of sunlight that shone through the treetops. You took a roundabout at your self declared checkpoint, changing course back to the house.

Sam followed wordlessly, but his presence was strangely comforting. Warm.

“Thank you.”

“For...” he trailed off, prodding you on.

“I don’t know. This.” You gestured to the path ahead of you. “I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement.

You didn’t have an answer to that. Probably because you weren’t used to people just doing nice things for no apparent reason.

“How are you so calm all the time? I’ve never seen him get under your skin,” you asked quietly. “How do you do it?”

He didn’t answer straight away. He mulled over it as he dodged broken sticks and upended roots on the ground. You would be fine if he didn’t answer either; as long as he knew that you appreciated it.

“I just realised that everything he put into me was destructive. Actively worked on unlearning it,” he replied after a while. “It took me years to even begin.”

You expected to hear that but it didn’t make it easier.

“I don’t even know how to start,” you mumbled. It was so tiring, even thinking of where and how it began. It was all you knew. All you were taught.

“If I could add something?”

You looked at him questioningly.

“You had a different relationship with him than all of us, Y/N. A deeper one. It’s not easy to forget that,” he pointed out. “But… you’re not him. That takes strength.”

These weren’t new revelations. It was things you had told yourself earlier to rationalise all your actions. You knew it on a surface level but it was difficult to convince yourself sincerely.

You didn’t say anything, just continued jogging with an eye on the ground. 

It felt better to hear it from someone else. A starting point to maybe get to where he was, too.

“I just can’t believe anyone took him seriously enough for him to get this far,” Sam added, a tick of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t condone bullying but someone should have just punched him in the face as a child.”

It wasn’t even the funniest thing you had heard him say but for some reason it elicited a snort from you, soon giving way to a laugh.

His face snapped to yours at the sound of your laughter, a small smile growing on his face.

His brief moment of distraction was all it took for him to not notice the tree root sticking out in front of him. His ankle got caught in the wood, sending him stumbling to the ground face forward.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, halting in your place immediately, dropping to your knees to where he was.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, turning onto his back. “I think I broke my face.”

“That may be a bit excessive but your nose is definitely bleeding,” you knew this was serious but you were finding it difficult to control your laughter once you realised it wasn’t a life threatening injury.

“Just leave me here to die.” He covered his eyes with his elbow, refusing to look at you.

“C’mon, Wilson. Let’s get you fixed up.” You stood up, offering your hand. He grabbed onto it, hoisting himself up.  “Can you stand up straight? Do you think you have a concussion?”

“World class assassin,” he grumbled, shaking his head to imply he was fine other than a possible broken nose.

“Promise I won’t tell. Your reputation is safe,” you said it humorously but with conviction, hoping to make it less embarrassing for him. Not that you’d let him forget it any time soon.

It took longer to walk back considering how far you had ventured out, along with the fact that you had to guide him as he held his nose in the air to try and control the bleeding.

You pushed open the door to the house, holding it open as he walked in. Sam made his way to the dining room after you told him you’d get the first aid kit for the second time during your stay there.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, grabbing an old t-shirt along the way, he had a single ice cube pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You dropped the kit onto the table, opening the mini fridge. You emptied the ice cubes from the tray onto the t-shirt, twisting it into a small ice pack.

“These are my battle scars.” You could tell that he was trying not to use his nose. He sounded ridiculous. 

“Whatever makes you feel better, Sam,” you chortled. His mouth eased into a half smile and you didn’t get why until you realised it was the first time you had called him by his name. You didn’t acknowledge it, surprised by how easily it slipped out from your mouth when you weren’t actively stopping it.

You gave him a bit of cotton to wipe off the blood that had dried on his face.

“Look up,” you instructed, standing over him so you could assess the damage. He complied, letting you cradle his jaw softly, tilting his head to see if there were any signs of a fracture or anything worse.

It was a bad fall, but nothing he hadn’t been through before in terms of severeness. It wasn’t going to leave a mark.

“Definitely going to bruise but it’s not broken,” you concluded, going over it once more to make sure.

“Thanks, doc,” his voice came softly from below you. Only then did you realise how close you were standing to him. You could feel his breath on your wrist that was still caressing his face.

It felt like eternity, but he didn’t make an effort to move or shove you away. Your eyes flitted down to his lips for a second. If you just leaned dow-

“Right,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back. “Just hold this to your face for a while to reduce any swelling.”

You handed him the makeshift ice pack, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“Your turn to use the bed tonight, right?” His voice was significantly lower than what it had been a few minutes ago, something you weren’t acclimated to hearing. It only made your face feel hotter.

“Yeah.” You avoided meeting his eyes, using the time to close the first aid kid. “Unless you want it.”

“No, go ahead.”

It was too early to retire for the evening but suddenly you weren’t all that hungry anymore. Apparently neither was he.

“See you tomorrow, then?” you inquired, turning away before he could see you cringe.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, “Good night.”

You just gave him a short wave over your shoulder and physically restrained from walking to the room, shutting the door and never looking at him again. You hoped he didn’t notice or at least never bring it up if he did.

You couldn’t do this. Not again.

Not when you knew the consequences.

Next part

#sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #mcu fic #sam fic #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson angst #sam wilson series #falcon #falcon x reader #the falcon x reader #hitman!sam wilson #hitman!au #shut in fic #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #sam wilson #the falcon #sam wilson fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam imagine

[tohellandbackanthology]

WE FINISHED SHIPPING OUT ALL PHYSICAL ORDERS (and other important info about your package)!

Hi guys! That’s right! On June 19th, we officially wrapped up packing more than 800 orders of To Hell + Back: A Destiel Anthology and immediately got drunk and partied actually we just talked about the impossible housing market in Vancouver. Barring three orders which were still missing phone numbers, by now everybody else should’ve received a tracking number with their book on the way! 

While we’re relieved that one of the hardest parts of the job is now done and over with, we know that our project is still far from over. With that in mind, we’d like to outline some important info via this handy FAQ about what to look out for as you wait for your package to arrive.

**When are digital books shipping out?**

Right now! As promised, now that we’ve finished shipping all physical books, we’re now switching our focus to digital copies. Please do note that we’ll be shipping digital books in batches, so not everybody is going to get their book at the same time. Why are we doing this? Because sometimes emails bounce and we want to make sure we catch those when they happen. By sending the books out in batches, we can better keep track of these issues.

We will be sending out digital books in the following order: Indiegogo/Big Cartel digital-only backers first, and then everybody else. We feel this order is fair because those of you who didn’t order a physical book have now been waiting a long time and we want to be sure you receive your books at the same time as people begin receiving their physical copies in the mail.

We aim to complete shipping all digital books no later than July 11, but we are working fast in the hopes of finishing by July 5th. 

**I didn’t receive my tracking number!** 

We had multiple checks in place to ensure that we covered every order*** so if you didn’t get an email from Canada Post, please check your junk/spam folder and see if your email might have landed there. If it’s not there either, please message us at [email protected] and we’ll resend you your tracking number. It’s always possible that there might’ve been a typo in the email address that we had on file for you, and if that was the case, then the email containing your tracking number wouldn’t have reached you. That said, even if Canada Post’s email didn’t reach you, you should have received an email from Indiegogo or Big Cartel also indicating your tracking number as we inputted tracking info into these sites too! 

*** A select few packages don’t have tracking numbers. If you purchased a tier that was a merch + E-book combo on Indiegogo (“I’d Rather Have You”; “Cursed or Not”; “I Always Come When You Call”) and live outside Canada and the United States, it was unfortunately not possible for us to generate a mailing label with a tracking number because your parcel was too small. Instead, please keep an eye on your mailbox. Your envelope parcel should reach you within 4-6 weeks.

**The only thing my tracking number says is ELECTRONIC INFORMATION SUBMITTED BY SHIPPER :( When will Canada Post pick up my package?**

All orders were picked up by Canada Post on June 21, 2021. If your tracking still doesn’t show ITEM PICKED UP BY CANADA POST, contact us immediately so we can figure out what’s going on.

**My package didn’t arrive! It says ITEM BEING RETURNED TO SENDER! Help!**

Please contact us IMMEDIATELY if this happens so that we can reroute your package before it’s too late. If the package is returned to us, we get charged for its shipping. Then subsequently shipping has to be paid again to resend it to you! That’s 3x shipping and it’s not good, for either us or you! Please don’t delay a second if this happens. Tell us right away because we are determined to get it back to you! In the words of @justholdingstill, “Over my dead body are they sending it back to us.”   

**When will I receive my package?**

From the point that your tracking displays the message Item picked up by Canada Post, you can expect that:

Canadians will generally receive their packages within 2-4 days, but it can be up to 7 days for remote regions. 

Americans will generally receive their packages within 10-14 days. This includes Guam and Puerto Rico.

All other countries will receive their packages within 4-12 weeks, but we have noticed that these packages are coming WAY faster than that, usually within 2 weeks. Down below is a breakdown of how quickly certain countries have received their fastest package:

Argentina: 15 days 

Finland: 8 days 

Germany: 10 days 

Italy: 16 days 

Mexico: 10 days 

Norway: 18 days 

Russia: 15 days 

United Kingdom: 21 days but so far, this seems to be an exception—only one package has arrived as of today.

All other countries: No package has reached its destination yet that we know of

**I have my tracking number but it’s not showing any movement! Is my package lost?**

Canadians and Americans should have regular updates to their tracking information every couple of days, but please be patient—things happen, packages get rerouted, or sometimes have to sit for a little bit in customs or a sorting facility before moving on to their final destination. 

Likewise for our international backers, you will most likely get regular updates to your tracking information until your package leaves Canada. At this point, you will receive the following notification: International item being forwarded to destination country. From this point onward, you won’t receive any updates to your tracking information for a long time. This is completely normal and it just means that your book is on a boat making its way to your country. After it arrives on shore, you may or may not get more tracking notifications—it will depend on how the next carrier processes your order. In general, for all the international countries that have received packages so far, they have had full tracking upon reaching shore.

**When is my package considered lost? What should I do then? How much time do I have to contact you?**

Canadians should wait 14 days from the day that their package is picked up by Canada Post before contacting us (unless your tracking says that it’s returning to sender, in which case contact us IMMEDIATELY so that we can reroute your package!).

Americans (including Guam and Puerto Rico) should wait 21 days from the day that their package is picked up by Canada Post before contacting us (unless your tracking says that it’s returning to sender, in which case contact us IMMEDIATELY so that we can reroute your package!).

All other nationalities should wait 12 weeks from the day that their package is picked up by Canada Post before contacting us (unless your tracking says that it’s returning to sender, in which case contact us IMMEDIATELY so that we can reroute your package!).

Please don’t contact us before that. We won’t be able to help you earlier than this. We have to talk to Canada Post about your parcel and they won’t take further steps until the waiting period is over. 

When you contact us, please give us the following information via email at [email protected]: 

Your full name

Your shipping address

Your shipping phone number

Your shipping email

Let us know where you’re an Indiegogo or Big Cartel backer

You have four weeks to contact us after the ‘package-is-officially-lost’ date. For example, if your book was picked up by Canada Post on June 1 and your home address is in a country other than the United States or Canada, you will wait 12 weeks to see if your package arrives. In this example, your package is officially considered lost on September 1. You have four weeks to let us know. In this example, you have until October 1 to tell us that your package is lost. If you tell us after October 1, unfortunately we can’t help you! We have a timeline in place for the official end date of our project and this deadline helps keep us on track to donate our remaining funds to our charity of choice, Wish Vancouver, in a timely manner. Not to mention we’ll be selling off our extra books and if you take too long to contact us, there might not be any remaining books for you to have a replacement!

**My tracking says that my package was delivered but I can’t find it!**

We encourage you first and foremost to ask your neighbours and anybody else who lives with you or around you to see if they might have received it for you. Please also contact your postal service to see if they might have held it for you at the post office. Finally, please keep an eye on your tracking and please try your absolute best to be there to receive it so that there is no chance of your package being stolen. If your tracking information declares that it was delivered, we consider it delivered on our end too and as much as we would like to help you, we’re not a business and as such, our funds are limited and we can’t be responsible for stolen packages. If your package does get stolen though, please let us know and we’ll talk to Canada Post regardless. All our books are insured and if Canada Post agrees to pay the insurance amount, we’ll put aside a book for you from our extras sale. You will still be responsible for paying the full amount of shipping. If Canada Post denies the insurance amount, we can still put a book aside for you but you will have to pay the full amount of the book and shipping. 

**Have any other questions that come to mind?**

As always, please don’t hesitate to shoot us a message! We always strive to get back to you within 48 hours or less, but please note that justholdingstill, casthewise, and pray4jensen/60r3d0m are heading out on a mini vacation to Vancouver Island from June 30 to July 4 so you might not hear from us as promptly at that time! Unfortunately we won’t have cell service or WiFi.

Aside from this, thank you again for your patience and support. We can’t wait to see photos of your books (and shelves and pets and plants!). Be sure to tag us when you do post!

With love,

Your TH+B mods

#admin: 60r3d0m #admin: pray4jensen #announcement #tohellandbackanthology

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding IX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV  - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII

Content Warning: This chapter contains potentially triggering material, particularly aftermath of attempted suicide as well as discussions of bodily injury.

Cody woke up the morning after the...drunken keldabe still feeling uneasy. He spent half an hour attempting to read over reports in preparation for the Umbaran campaign before giving it up as a lost cause. He distracted himself for a little while by pouring over last night’s cantina surveillance, before giving up on that as well and sending a message to General Skywalker.

‘Any updates on General Kenobi’s status?’

He watched the comms as communications from everyone besides the General trickled in. He answered a few requests for requisitions, forwarded some medical reports, and ignored an irritating handful of overly-personal questions. 

Agonizing over it the whole time, he opened a comm-text link to Obi-Wan. It took nearly an hour, but he managed to send two sentences. ‘Hope you’re recovering well. Look forward to upcoming mission discussion.’

He immediately wanted to retroactively delete the message, mortified by every word and deeply concerned at every second that passed without a reply.

He spent the next 30 minutes hunched over, quickly closing every incoming CT and CC communication, justifying the time to himself as ‘technically on leave.’

He lurched forward when he finally received a General’s comm code, but slumped in disappointment when it was Skywalker, not Kenobi.

‘Not as drunk but still seems a little high. He says he wasn’t drugged. He’s taking the rest of the day off. I’m monitoring.’

Taking the rest of the day off. Did that mean he wasn’t carrying around his comm? Kriff. Should he more or less concerned that the general was actually taking a day off?

He decided to be more concerned.

‘Thank you for the update. Respectfully request information on any changes.’

Hopefully that would encourage Skywalker to keep him informed even if he stopped freaking out over his vod’s behavior.

Stowing the remote comm, he stood up and exited the temporary planet-side office, throwing himself into cleaning up the mess that was nearly 20,000 clone troopers simultaneously attempting to get the most out of a very brief R&R. 

Shortly before mid-day, he received another update from Skywalker.

‘Just managed to get him to medical. Healer cleared him of drug interactions but Obi-Wan’s still acting strange (not crying, but a lot of hugging).’

Cody stared at that for a long while.

‘Any other verbal indications of upcoming danger?’ he finally asked. Skywalker didn’t reply. 

Shortly after nightfall, his incident reports were interrupted by a call from an unknown temple number. He quickly opened it, and a holo of an unfamiliar Mon Calamari female healer appeared in miniature on the desk.

“Commander Cody. Thank you for answering so quickly. Are you somewhere private?” she asked, voice deliberately neutral.

The Commander tensed up. “Yes, sir. I’m in CC office space, alone. The room and the channel are both secure. Is this regarding General Kenobi?”

“Yes.” She replied. “My name is Master Bant Eerin; I’m a temple healer as well as a personal friend of Obi-Wan’s. He’s...he’s in the healing halls right now. We’re still trying to understand exactly what happened- I’ll tell you what I can but first we need to rule out any possible drugs he may have contact with. I need you to describe in detail anything he may have been exposed to that could have possibly had mind-altering effects.”

The Commander was a professional. He swallowed back his fear, his questions, and his demands to know what was going on.

“Of course. Everything on the Negotiator was GAR Standard, and I was with him when we left the ship. We went directly to the lower levels. The first time he was exposed to anyone outside the 212th was when we left our transport on level 3915. I...actually have footage of him the whole time night after that point. I’m sending it over right now, sir.”

“That would be extremely helpful, thank you.” He watched as she pulled it up on a second comm, sound barely audible. 

He continued with his report: “One of the boys took it without permission. He didn’t mean anything by it, he’s just an idiot; I’ve already issued a severe reprimand. In any case, he brought it to me after I issued surveillance on the cantina, it tracks everything the General did- as far as I can tell, he had a glass of house grub wine, two shots of rancor blood, and an unnamed mixed cocktail ‘on the house.’ You can see everything the bartender added- as far as I can tell nothing was slipped in. He just... blacked out suddenly after the fourth drink, and quickly startled awake, confused by his surroundings.”

“I see.” Her tone was still carefully neutral and Cody didn’t know how to read her expression. He waited, wishing he was wearing his bucket so he didn’t have to keep schooling his face into professional patience.

“You brought him back to the temple...correct?” 

“Yes, sir.”

She let out a deep breath, gills fluttering slightly. “We’ll probably have more questions later, but please understand our inquires are entirely based around determining how we can best help Obi-Wan. This call and any future ones are not intended, and should absolutely not be interpreted, as indications of blame. He’s actually spoken to me about you before, I know he has the deepest respect for you, personally and professionally. Someone will likely be assigned to talk to everyone whose spent time with him recently, including myself.”

The sick feeling in his gut from last night returned full force. “I...believe I understand sir. His condition is serious, then?”

Her gills fluttered again.

“Even now, I think we can safely anticipate a full physical recovery. He...there’s no easy way to say this...it appears he attempted to end his own life. Knight Skywalker got to him just in time, and he received bacta within minutes of the initial burn. I...like I said...we’ll began work to figure out why-”

Her voice broke and she stared up, large tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She hastily wiped them away.

“Rest assured commander, he’s getting the best treatment possible. Thank you for your assistance. I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have right now. This is my personal comm link- please feel free to reach out to me at any point for updates.”

“I-” Cody cleared his throat. “Can I come to the temple? To...” he trailed off, not sure how to finish.

“Not tonight, I’m sorry. The healers need to focus; he’s not allowed any visitors until he’s out of Bacta, I’m afraid.”

“Skywalker must be throwing a fit at that” Cody remarked numbly.

The healer winced. “Knight Skywalker is currently sedated. He was...injured in the struggle to keep Obi-Wan from further harm. Master Windu witnessed part of it, but we’ll have to wait until its safe to wake him to get the full story. I’ll be notifying Captain Rex of the situation after we finish speaking.”

“I’ll do it.” Cody offered immediately. “Tell me what happened.”

Eerin hesitated. 

“Please, Sir. It will be better coming from me and...if he’s the only other trooper who’s being informed at the moment...”

“Of course,” she said quietly. “We don’t know the full circumstances, but at some point in performing emergency care for Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker was stabbed in the lower abdomen with a vibroblade. It pierced his large intestine. The blade was pulled out shortly before healers arrived, causing some further damage and blood loss. He’s already finished surgery, and should only need a few hours of Bacta at most. Considering his extraordinary past recovery rates, he’ll likely be out of bed tomorrow and fully healed by the end of the week.”

“General Kenobi wouldn’t...” Cody trailed off again. He was having a hard time putting coherent sentences together.

Bant looked at the ceiling for a moment, seeming to collect her thoughts.

“Psychosis can have many manifestations. Even with- with conventional injuries, people can mistake help for harm. There’s just too much we don’t understand, and only so much we can learn before they wake up. Are you certain you wish to be the one to inform Captain Rex?”

“Yes.” That was about the only thing the Commander was certain of right now. “Is there anyone else in the GAR I should inform of...anything?”

“The military aspect of this isn’t my area of expertise. If there’s someone you trust who can be a support for you, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to tell them in confidence. Some form of what happened is going to get out eventually.” she replied. “Please use your discretion, I suppose. It’s...not really my speciality but I imagine you’ll receive further orders on how much to release to the GAR once Obi-Wan’s stable.”

Right. Discretion. Because Obi-Wan wasn’t just Obi-Wan- he was a high general in charge of nearly 1/3 of the republic’s forces. If word of this got out to the wrong ears it would cause mass panic, maybe even an emboldened separatist advance. It was an insane amount of responsibility for one person, no wonder - he deliberately didn’t finish the thought.

“I’ll comm the Captain immediately. Thank you for the information, General.” he said out loud.

“Feel free to contact me for further updates, and tell Captain Rex he’s welcome to do the same. I’ll message you when its clear to visit the halls.”

“Yes, Sir.” Cody responded, saluting automatically. 

“Take care of yourself, Commander Cody”

The hologram blinked out. Cody sat motionless for several long moment before sweeping his desk off, sending the assorted flimsies and redundant comm-units of various designations to the ground.

He stared at the empty desk, then tapped a button on his wrist comm, opening a private audio channel. “CT-7567, please come in” he said calmly.

“Cody?” came the alarmed reply. “I’m here, what’s going on?” Why did he sound so panicked? He had deliberately used his calmest voice. Oh well.

“Please report immediately to CC Office 12 in Guard Headquarters”

“I’ll be there in 10″

Cody hung up. He stared at the blank wall. He knew something was wrong with how the General said goodbye.

He opened the single desk drawer and dumped the odd wires and coins inside to the floor. Eerin had said burn. That could mean a lot of things, but lightsaber was the most likely. 

Cody puked profusely into the empty drawer. He stared at the vomit for a moment before carefully closing the drawer. He still felt a little sick. He hadn’t even said anything back to the General, he just stood there, frozen. 

He stared vaguely at the wall across, wondering if he was going to puke again.

Rex burst into the room. “Cody! What’s going on?! You- kark, what is that smell?”

“I puked in the desk drawer” Cody explained.

Rex shut the door behind him and slowly walked over. He knelt down next to the desk, gently taking Cody’s hands in this own. “Cody. Vod. Talk to to me.” 

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

Rex’s hands tightened over Cody’s compulsively and Cody squeezed back harder. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Rex’s expression.

“Some of ghost company went out for drinks last night. Obi-Wan started acted oddly. We flew towards the temple. He started crying. We got to the temple. He Keldabe kissed me. He told me goodbye. I didn’t say anything back.”

“Oh, vod” Rex whispered. He gently pulled the slack Cody off the chair and onto his lap on the floor. Cody continued mechanically. “I did reports today. Skywalker said he was with him. I left Obi-Wan a message. I don’t think he saw it. He tried to kill himself. Skywalker must have left him alone. He saved him. Obi-Wan stabbed Skywalker.”

Rex froze, still holding on to Cody. 

“The healer called. Asked about drugs. They don’t think its drugs but they had to ask. She said they’re both going to heal completely fine. I have a link if you want to call the healer directly. That’s...it. I have reports to do now.”

Rex held Cody tighter. “Not right now”

“It’s war. People get hurt. People die. I have work to do”

“Not right now,” Rex repeated. “You have the right to be upset. You have the right to grieve. You’re a person, of course you have feelings.”

“Obi-Wan said that.” Cody whispered. Then he started crying. He continued to quietly sob for some time, hurt and bewildered and scared. They sat on the floor together; Rex barely moved, simply held on to his older brother as he fell apart.

Inevitably, Cody’s tears dried up and he pulled away. 

“I don’t know how to clean this,” he said gesturing at that closed drawer. 

“I’ll take care of it. Let’s just get you to bed. There’s CC bunks here, right? 

“Yes but...”

Cody didn’t really like sleeping so isolated, but he also couldn’t imagine facing the 212th right now. 

“I’ll stay here with you. We’ll go to the temple together in the morning.”

Rex shepherded Cody to the fresher. He stared at the mirror with a vague sense of recognition before automatically moving through a standard sanitation routine. By the time he finished, Rex had joined him in his room.

“What did you do with the vomit?” Cody asked, suddenly exhausted. They slipped into bed together.

“Swapped the whole desk with Pond’s. That bastard knows what he did.”

Cody let out a snort. Then, much to his surprise, he sank heavily into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Part X

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #potentially triggering #attempted suicide #injury #all off screen this chapter #character is not actually suicidal but is severely divorced from reality due to space wizard plot device #starwars #codywan #angst #fanfic

[morning-might-arrive]

Apparently the monster high fandom is rising from the grave again, so in celebration I wrote this instead of sleeping. I will be finishing it soon. Feedback is much appreciated! A series of misunderstandings involving a limousine and Spectra’s blog lead Jackson to the realization that he has way more friends than he thought.

Monday

It was 12:06 in the afternoon when Jackson Jekyll ascended the steps of Monster High. If he was quick enough, he could at least be on time for 5th period. He took his seat in Mr. Rotter’s AP contemporary literature class just as the bell rang and pulled out his class copy of 1984. The stoic teacher gave him a nod of recognition. A few minutes into the lecture, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“You were not in creepateria this morning.” Abbey stated in her usual matter-of-fact tone.

“Yeah,” Winona added, “Ghoulia wanted to show you the new Fastpoint comic she got. She seemed really bummed you weren’t there. I can’t wait for you to read it though. It retcons the whole DeathCap Comics universe back to the way it was before the reboot. There was even-”

“Where were you, anyway?” Howleen hastily changed the subject.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. We were at the doctor’s office. Something kinda came up unexpectedly.” Jackson replied, turning to face them. This caught the attention of Rochelle. She looked up from her book.

“Doctor? Is everything alright?” Concern dripped from her voice and Jackson instantly felt guilty. 

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. We’re in a little bit of pain, but…” Jackson’s eyes both glanced upward towards his helix piercing as he spoke.”It won’t be a problem for much longer.” The four ghouls glanced at each other suspiciously and then back towards Jackson. Abbey opened her mouth to challenge his last statement.

“Ladies! Mr. Jekyll! Do not make me have to separate you!” Mr. Rotter’s stern voice boomed from the front of the room. Jackson muttered a meek apology and turned back to his book, his ghoulfriends quickly following suit. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

40 uneventful minutes went by and then finally the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. “Don’t forget to read the next chapter!” Mr. Rotter yelled to his students, but most of them were too far away to hear. Jackson dashed to his locker and quickly called his human friend Chad.

“Hey! I just got back from the doctor’s office. Yeah, she told me to just take some Advil and just let it run its course.” unbeknownst to him, resident blogger Spectra Vonderguist was perusing the hallways looking for her next story.

“Completely done for, they said. Apparently there’s nothing they can do.” 

Spectra perked up at those words. She quickly pulled out her iCoffin and hid a few lockers down from Jackson’s. 

“It’s true. We don’t have much time left.” 

Spectra gasped and quickly snapped a photo of the scene in front of her. Did he say he was running out of time as in...death? Having always been a ghost, Spectra didn’t know a lot about death other than that it was something that happened to humans and to some breeds of monster. Even so, Jackson seemed a little early in his life to be experiencing it. In moments like these she really regretted snooping around in other people’s business, but she definitely had her blog post.

Tuesday

At 8:35 that morning, every phone in Monster High sounded at once as The Ghostly Gossip was updated. Conversations were halted and hallway traffic came to a standstill as several students stopped to check their phones. 

Normie’s days are numbered?

Yesterday, sources caught a phone conversation of one Jackson Jekyll in which he confessed to being told by a doctor that he didn’t have much time left on earth. This story is still developing, and more details will be reported as they come in.

Deuce Gorgon’s eyes scanned the short article again. “Dude.” Was all he could come up with after a couple of minutes. “What?” Asked Clawd Wolf as he approached his best friend. Deuce handed over his phone.

“Dude!” Clawd exclaimed. “If this is someone’s idea of a joke, it isn’t very funny.”

“I know.” Deuce replied in a stern tone that contrasted with his usual jovial one. “Maybe the ghouls know something about this.”

Clawd nodded and quickly scanned the hallway. Frankie, Cleo, Clawdeen, and Draculara were all crowded around Frankie’s locker. They were looking over Cleo’s shoulder at something on her phone and talking to one another in a hushed whisper. The boys headed toward the group.

“Hey, did you ghouls see that weird blog post?’ Deuce asked the group.

“Uh, yeah,” Cleo responded. “Why would Spectra post such a far-fetched tale? And expect anyone to believe it?”

“But why would she post something like this if it wasn’t true?” Clawdeen asked. “You know how seriously that ghoul takes her blog.”

“C’mon guys,” Frankie cut in. “Spectra’s gotten a story twisted around before, remember?”

“But-” Draculara started.

“But nothing.” All eyes turned towards a fast-approaching Heath Burns, flanked by Abbey and Ghoulia. “Look, if my cousins were dying, I would know about it. That ghost writer has lost her spark.”

“Am not so sure.” Abbey responded, giving Heath the side eye. “He was acting very strange yesterday. Said he did go to see doctor.”

Draculara burst suddenly into tears, clinging to Clawd and Clawdeen. “But that means we’re gonna lose Jackson and Holt-” the rest of her sentence was cut off by sobbing.

“There there, sweetie,” Clawdeen whispered, handing her best friend a tissue. “That does it. We have to put this whole thing to rest right now.

“Yes,” Abbey agreed. “We go ask Jackson.”

“Well we can’t just tell him we know,” Cleo insisted. “What are you even going to say? ‘Oh, by the way, Spectra eavesdropped on your private conversation yesterday and now there’s a story posted on the internet about you for the whole school to read, so can you tell us if it’s true?’ He’ll be mortified.”

Frankie stared at her. “That’s actually a pretty good point. Okay, we’ll meet in the library during lunch to find what we can about human death, so we at least know what we’re looking for. Sound like a plan?” The group collectively nodded. “Good. I’ll see you there.”

At 11:30 that morning, the group re-convened in the dusty confines of the Monster High library. Ghoulia moaned as she typed away at the computer in front of her. 

“Ghoulia says that when a human dies, they’re put into a box that is measured especially for them. The box is then put into a long black car to a place where it can be buried in the ground. It’s customary for the person’s box to be decorated with flowers, and then their family and friends are invited to a gathering to watch them be buried.” Frankie translated.

“Like some sort of going away party?” Clawdeen asked. “I’m glad i’m not a human. That’s pretty morbid.”

“But that proves it!” Heath exclaimed. “I’m Jackson’s family so if he were dying, I would definitely be invited to the going away party and so would my parents. This whole story is bogus.”

The other students weren't so sure yet, but they all let the subject drop for now.

At 2:56, the music stopped. Jackson blinked, suddenly aware of his surroundings. The sun beamed down and burned his eyes, and he quickly had to side step to avoid being trampled by the massive herd of students walking behind him. He’d apparently stopped in his tracks in the middle of the front walkway of the school. He looked down and discovered the cause of this to be his dead iCoffin. He plugged his phone into his portable charger and it blinked back to life. Underneath the time display was a message from Holt.

“You got any idea why D-low hugged me holding back tears this mornin? Did I miss somethin?” Jackson opened his phone to respond

“Um, no? I don’t think so. Did she say what was wrong?” He left it for Holt to find later and put his phone back in his bag. Not a moment passed before it began buzzing with a call from his dad.

“So anyway, I was all like ‘dude’ and she was all like-” Draculara recounted the events of the day and was suddenly cut off by her best friend Clawdeen, who pushed her back behind the doors to the school, pointing in Jackson’s direction. 

“You’re going to pick us up right?” Jackson asked into the phone.

“Okay. Yeah, we spoke to the florist yesterday. We picked out this really cool arrangement of Forget-Me-Nots. Pretty appropriate for the occasion, right?”

The two ghouls in hiding glanced at each other. “Do you remember what Frankie said? About humans getting flowers when they’re-”

“SHH!” the two turned their attention back to the human in question.

“Yeah, I know. Moms will be devastated. They said they won’t be back until 11 or 12 that night, and we’ll definitely be gone by then. But we’ll be sure to take a lot of pictures before we go!” He continued to the person on the other end. “Okay, see you in a few minutes.”

The girls gasped as Jackson put his phone away. Clawdeen pulled out her phone and pulled up the group chat. They had to tell everyone what they had just heard. 

#monster high #jackson jekyll #holt hyde #frankie #clawdeen #draculara #duece gorgon #abbey bomidable #Jackson and Holt use We instead of I #this is a hill i will die on

[the-bjd-community-confess]

More Divaz confos

Mod: Round two of these, previously: link. There’s some interesting customer reviews in this batch (5 and 8) which may be useful to readers.

1.Vic3mage "the secret bjdivaz vip group is just pictures of boxes coming in and going out". Yeah, between the bitching about d0llshe, asking people to post on doa for them, dunking on ex-customers, posting pics of random doll parts that they can't identify which doll they're supposed to go with, whining about how little money they make, whining when ppl e-mail them, whining. Yeah, other than that it's just boxes, and alpacas u can buy off amazon anyway lol.

~Anonymous

2.The butthurt users crying and guilttripping under every Divaz confession who have never been seen before elsewhere on this blog are extremely unsuspicious and unproblematic and definitely unconnected to Divaz and unbiased in every possible way

/s

~Anonymous

3.idk shit abt bjd1vas but v1cemage i can absolutely tell you the shit about ch0o is 100% accurate, fucker's got a long, long history of being an awful little man that stretches well beyond his involvement in the doll community. between the two i'd still trust bjd1vas over ch00 ch00 the fool any day!

~Anonymous

4.The Z3st and Div4s thing is really silly and both entities were being shady but did they really have to take the DZ waiting room down with them? :( He had even made a separate thread about it......

~Anonymous 

5. RE: BJD Divaz

I’ve been a customer of BJD Divaz since they first started, when it was only run by Chart3rline. I even contacted other BJD companies trying to persuade them to work with Divaz as their US representative. Most declined because they didnt like D's commission fee, but I was able to persuade a few of them.

I asked them to purchase a doll off DOA because I couldnt afford the asking price, and while they did, I found out later that instead of agreeing to purchase the seller's price, they negotiated the price to be lower. This significantly cheaper price was not passed down to me. I paid the full price +the commission fee based on that full price. I am disappointed I was not told this. This is when I stopped viewing them as a "friend" and instead, as a business. I dont hold this against them, it’s context to what Im going to say later.

I’ve stopped purchasing from D after my recent order from them. This company usually takes 3 or less months to make a doll. I’ve ordered the doll from D and it took 11 months. They let me know it arrived to them in March and that it will be shipped soon, except it only shipped on July, and only after I sent them several "reminder" emails. Before people in the comments try to put the blame on me for not sending a reminder soon, please keep in mind that I acknowledged the email in March and confirmed everything and they keep stressing to not send them emails because they are busy, I’ve emailed once every month since. I’ve since switched to ACBJD and Ive been happy with communication and the dolls ordered. I imagine ACBJD gets the same amount of emails, but they dont berate their customers if they email more than once.

I regret when people wanted a D0llshe, but not deal with him, I always recommended D. I would warn people of ordering directly and instead go through D. They assured buyers they would be handling communication and all the efforts so they wouldnt worry, except they didn’t. A person that I’ve recommended D to, who surpassed 2 years, keeps messaging me for help because D wouldnt reply to their emails. She is respectful, sweet and a timid person, not a Karen. This person, emailed D without a reply so would email a week later, only to be told that their email would be pushed down to the bottom if emailed again. No response, so she goes to FB and IG, who both tell her to email because they arent the person running orders. Finally got a response that they would get their refund, after D0llshe sends D's payment, but minus the PP fees. 3 months later and theres no refund, only a promise of them getting it later. Why is the customer missing out on fees when they have no doll? Customer emails d0llshe and he says he cant offer refund, because they didn’t order through them, which is understandable, but when all options are out for a customer, do you blame them for chargebacks?

If anyone files a chargeback, D will be blacklisting them from every company they rep, as in blacklisting you from buying direct from those companies. I urge everyone who has negative experiences with D to email the companies they rep instead of venting on confession blogs, and writing your experiences on social media. Make it count and send letters to the companies they represent, and please provide proof because they will try to make you out to be a liar.

Speaking of, they made vague posts on cl0ver singing for charging paypal fees, and that they offer guarantees as an official dealer, except when offering refunds, to non delivered products I might add, they are keeping the fees, and offered no help with d0llshe, even before they ended their dealership with them. Someone on DOA was told to not email them unless the wait time surpassed 1.5 years. They are even so petty that they post screenshots with the full name and address (dox) of the customer on purpose and then delete it out a day later as if they just realized their "mistake".

Before you try to make excuses for them about the fires, keep in mind, I am dealing with a business. The lower price negotiation with the DOA sale, I am in no way obligated to give them a pass or treat them as a friend when they made it clear that our relationship is strictly business. Their issues, are not my issues. D0lk got dragged for not shipping in time, others, including artisans, got dragged for being so late with communication and sending back refunds for cancelled orders. Why does D get to be exempt?

The supporters are the worst part of this, because of instead of being honest so D can improve, they support them for being "real". For example, look how micemage words it, to make it seem like this criticism is from one person, when there are people on addicts who didn’t have good experience. Check the bjd dealers tag here, you will see the supporters in the comments going off on any and all criticism of D. Some have sane comments, but the majority are cult like and try to identify the person venting as if it’s one person. Addicts deletes threads with criticism asking people to instead direct it to their feedback group; which lets be honest, no one is going to do because its "not that bad", and most dont want to join a new group, which is mostly dead.

This is my first and last confession on D, I’ve emailed each company they rep and told them my experience as well as contacting the 3 month wait company, with screenshots of my order, how they handled it, and the excuse they used to put blame on the company for being so late (package arrived march to D, 4 months to be shipped is on D, not the company). I’m not using company or order details because I know they are petty enough to try to identify me and publicly shame me like they have to others. This and the threat of suing is why not many people like to go public with their experience. They just keep feedback neutral, move on and never deal with again.

~Anonymous

6. Listen, I can't take you seriously in regards to BJD!vas because you're posting on a confession blog. If you were serious, you would have posted in buyer beware groups, DoA reviews or the board to get things resolved, or you would have made a complaint to the BBB. And your language makes you come off more as someone with an agenda rather than someone who is trying to warn people. If shipping is the issue, stop buying with standard shipping and pay the extra price for express shipping. I saw one of you complain that it sat with them for 20 days; that's probably because you're not the only one and they more than likely have a queue to check and then ship out. Do mistakes happen? Yes, because we're human. I've been in this hobby for a few years now and it seems like most people know you're going to have to wait, sometimes even outside the expected wait time. And shipping something as big as a doll is a timely endeavor. I shouldn't have to say that.

My point is simply to stop complaining on an confession board and either take it to the places previously mentioned. Posting here behind the anonymous mask makes you sound like a petulant child who didn't get their way right away.

~Anonymous

7.My only issue with BJD Divaz is how I never get any updates. Every email, they tell me to join their facebook page for status updates. I dont have a FB and I dont want to create one. I bought my doll through their website, updates should be posted on their website, or they could send me an email. That isnt asking much.

~Anonymous

8. Since there seems to be a lot of either "completely negative everything sucks" or "everything was sunshine and rainbows" confessions about bjd!vaz I thought I'd chime in with a neutral review.

PROS

-They were always polite and professional in their emails, and gave me very detailed answers to my questions.

-I got exactly what I ordered, so no mix ups or missing parts or anything like that.

-I think them being forthcoming about personal issues (only one person on staff, illness, the flooding isue etc.) on social media is good, since it keeps customers updated as to why there might be delays.

-If you live in the US their shipping is very reasonable.

CONS

-Reply times were varied. Sometimes it could take over a week, sometimes a couple hours.

-My order took about 10mo which, when comparing to other people who ordered through the same company around the same time, was about 3x as long as if I bought it direct and 2x as long if I had gone through a different dealer. I get some of the waiting time is out of their control, but it was kind of ridiculous.

-They dont necessarily ship the same day they send you a tracking number. I wish they said something like, "Here's your tracking number, our pickup is Xday so it should start moving after that" just so I could be aware.

All in all no major complaints. I got my doll and all that. Their lone employee is clearly overwhelmed. I hope they hire another person, if only to give the one a break.

Truthfully, I most likely won't buy through them again. I'd rather pay the international shipping and go direct, than deal with the extensive wait time. I'd still recommend them to someone looking for a very long layaway, though. I paid in full, but if I had a 12mo layaway I would've never known they weren't ready to ship my doll until month 10.

~Anonymous

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #TrueBJDConfessions #BJD Dealers

[topweeklyupdate]

TØP Bi-Yearly Update #139: Don't You Shy Away (From Blogging About Fan Culture) (4/16/21)

Well... this week has been interesting!

A few years ago- heck, just one year ago- it would have been inconceivable to imagine Twenty One Pilots entering into a new era and me not being all over it. When Trench was released, I was practically a daily update page, covering every new drop of info as I reached it. Admittedly, a lot's changed since then. Some of those changes are just a matter of how much time and energy I have to run a blog. As I said ten days ago when it became clear that a new era was coming, I am deep into my doctoral work at the moment (and, due to defending my dissertation prospectus next Friday, will not be able to post next week either).

But there have also been some fundamental shifts in how I approach fan culture. The events of the last year, in the world and in my personal life, have made me really confront the problems inherent with holding people up onto a pedestal, of devoting any part of your life to following a stranger's, and of parasocial relationships in general. I cannot go back to the same mentality I formed in 2013 and kept until somewhere between 2017-19 where the music that I liked was a core part of my personality and writing about the people who made it was a thing that gave me purpose.

At the same time, though, I cannot pretend that I don't still love the band that provided me with indescribably valuable comfort at a time in my life where I needed it. Twenty One Pilots' music, message, and fan community carried me from one place to the next, and so did this blog. They're always going to be a part of me, my interests, and my history. So, yeah; I'm gonna keep writing about them, just with perhaps a little less gusto. And that's a healthy thing!

But boy, is there a lot to gush about. I don't know about the rest of you, but "Shy Away" has only continued to grow on me over the last week, leaving me very excited about the future of our band moving into the Scaled and Icy era.

Recap's under the "Read More". But before that, just gotta say (since I haven't for awhile): Power to the local dreamer.

|-/ (I ain't changing the logo, Tyler, you doof.)

Ok, so y'all don't need me to explain everything that's gone down in Cliqueland over the last two weeks. We had dmaorg updates that were quickly overshadowed by promo posters for Scaled and Icy (which, of course, is just an anagram of "Clancy is Dead", because Tyler Joseph hates me personally) featuring our new icon mascot, Trash the Dragon and an album tracklist. We had a sweet new website launch with plenty of nifty Easter eggs and the promise of an exciting livestream performance on the album's release date, May 21, after well over a year off the stage. We had several interviews where we got intel over when to expect a tour (no clue), where Ned's at (missing), and if the album's being produced under duress from Dema (no comment).

More importantly than all of that, we had a dope new electro-indie song/tutorial for Jay's music drop. After I initially responded with a somewhat subdued "This is fun", "Shy Away" has just continued to worm its way deeper and deeper into my brain; I'm still humming it every hour or so. I cannot wait to someday hear a room full of people yell "I LOVE YOU (ooh ooh)" in harmony. The music video, directed by Miles Cable and AJ Favicchio, is somewhat light on narrative unless you fall down some Reddit rabbit holes, but has some nifty visuals (and space buns). More exciting for me is seeing another BTS video from Mark; it's been over two years since we've gotten to see Tyler and Josh at work, joking around with each other between takes, and that's such comfort.

Clearly, lots of folks are also digging this song. While it's still early, "Shy Away" has been outperforming "Level of Concern" at this same point in its release, having the best debut performance from an alternative song at Billboard since... "Jumpsuit". We'll see if this poppier track catches on better with radio audiences than other TØP tracks have since Blurryface and deliver the band another bona fide hit. I'll admit, I'm skeptical- I haven't heard anything quite like this cross over to the Top 40 in a few years now, it's gonna need to have some time to grow on people, and those promising early numbers are starting to trail off. I'm excited to be proved wrong!

That's about all I've got for now. Like I said earlier, I don't plan on releasing another update until two weeks from now, but I might change that plan if they happen to mess around and drop another track over the next week. We'll see. I'm excited. My band's back in action! Stuff's wild.

Once again, power to the local dreamer.

|-/

#twenty one pilots #tyler joseph #josh dun #shy away #scaled and icy #billboard #top weekly update

[kiribaku-queen]

Unexpected [3/8]

Pairing: Dabi x reader, Hawks x reader, Touya x reader

Fluff, angst, AU

Word count: 2.4K

A/N: To make up for being late last week, here’ s an early update! Enjoy! Please let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list!!!

Summary: Being quirkless wasn’t so bad. Especially when you had two badass best friends that had amazing quriks to make up for it. That is until one of them breaks your heart by disappearing in thin air. And the other breaks your heart by wanting to focus on his hero work. After coming back to Japan after studying abroad for 5 years, you were in for a whirlwind of surprises.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

Some people say that you shouldn’t hook up with your ex. Ever! That’s a huge no-no when you break up. But, isn’t it okay if you guys don’t have any feelings towards each other? Afterall, it wasn’t like you and Keigo were dating again. It’s simply… casual hookups.

It’s not like he was stopping by your place every day and sleeping over every night. It’s not like he visits you at work sometimes. And it’s not like you get the butterflies after seeing him… Yeah, it’s not like that. Not like that at all.

You had to consistently wear your winter outfits to work because Keigo wouldn’t stop leaving marks all over your neck. They were so high, almost reaching your jaw. Make up can only do so much to cover it up. And you tried to avoid wearing skirts that rose too much because, lo and behold, bruises in the shape of his large hands on the back of your thighs. It was hard enough that some of your coworkers commented on it. You really didn’t want the kids to see. How inappropriate and embarrassing would that be? You needed to be really careful and take more precautions to ensure that.

The bell rang, indicating that the class period was over. Lunch was next and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were starving and truthfully, needed a break. All your students took out their lunches while you packed up your teaching materials and headed back to the staffroom that was on the third floor. On your way to the staffroom, you walked up the stairs that revealed the open air. The fresh air, along with the warm sun hitting your skin, was something you needed at the moment. You leaned over the edge, closed your eyes, and took in the breeze.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” an all too familiar voice rang in your ears. You didn’t even need to think twice to know who it was. The moment you opened your eyes, your favorite pair of flirty, golden eyes came into sight. An automatic smile crossed your face.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, still smiling. It’s not like you were complaining, but it wasn’t an every day occurrence either. Hawks was also leaning against the edge, but on the opposite side. He was utilizing his wings to keep him afloat.

“Oh, you know. Just in the neighborhood and wanted to say hi. Hi,” he says in a deep, sly voice. Giving you the biggest side smile. You laugh at his flirty manner.

“Well Mr. Hawks. I’m hungry and you’re taking into my lunch time,” you teased. Hawks raised a brow, almost as if he was accepting a challenge.

“Fine, go and have your lunch. But what ever shall I do with this freshly picked flower then?” he pulled out a single, gorgeous, fully bloomed, white lily. A small gasp escaped your mouth. It was beautiful. You looked at the flower, back at Hawks, and then back at the flower. You knew if you reached for it now, he would retract the flower, not giving you a chance to hold it in your hands. Instead, you stuck out your lower lip even more and gave him those puppy eyes you know he can’t resist. He saw the look in your face and you knew you got him. “Take it.” he insisted, handing you the beautiful flower. You gladly took it, taking it to your nose and taking in its essence.

“Thank you. I love it,” you thanked him, admiring the flower in front of you. You then looked at him with an apologetic expression. “But I really am hungry. Thanks for visiting though,” you grabbed his hand, gave it a tight squeeze and turned around. But you stopped in your tracks when you heard Hawks loudly and obnoxiously cleared his throat. You slowly turned on your heels to face him.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he puckered his lips, waiting for a kiss. But you quickly dismissed him.

“I’m at work!” you whisper shouted to him, stating the obvious. You could probably already get into trouble with him visiting you during school hours. Getting caught kissing? You would get fired for sure! And you just started. You couldn’t afford to get fired over smooching with one of the pro-heroes. But Hawks wasn’t backing down. He wouldn’t leave until he got what he wanted. Quickly looking side to side and behind you, making sure the sight was clear, you quickly tugged on his collar and pecked him on the lips.

“Happy?”

“Very.” He commented. You roll your eyes to show him that you were annoyed at him but the smile of your face said otherwise.

“Good. Now get out of here bird man,” you shooed him away. He chuckled and pushed himself off the ledge, now trying to stabilize himself in the air.

“See you later tonight?” he asks like hes afraid that you were going to say no. You softened your expression and nodded your head in confirmation.

“See you tonight,” you said and started walking back to the staffroom, a light pink blush stained your cheeks. Hawks balled his fists up in victory and flew away while doing backflips in the air out of excitement. You looked back for the last time and watched his silly somersaults. You shook your head and finally, finally headed to the staffroom.

In the distance on top of a large building that had a good view of the school, two villains stood watching the pro-hero Hawks. They saw him swoop in to talk to some female. That female being you. The villain with greyish-blue hair and hands all over him slanted his eyes at the hero.

“So that’s Hawks?” he asks in a monotone voice. He didn’t even need to ask. He knew that was Hawks: their next target. It was more of a confirmation than a question. But nonetheless, the person standing next to him hummed in response, not taking his eye off of you two.

“Another school. Shall we take more children this time? That seemed to rile up All Might and Endeavor. Why not do the same to the number 3 hero?” The masked man talked out his plan, laughing ominously. The man beside him continue to observe the pro-hero. His eyes flickered to you and immediately saw the pink tint in your cheeks. Ah, he got it now.

“Not the children. The teacher,” he informed the masked man, using the same monotone voice. This caused the masked man to laugh even harder.

“Even better. Dabi, you know what to do,” he commanded, walking away while Hawks was doing his somersaults in the air. But Dabi didn’t respond. He continued to look in your direction and saw you turn around to look at the hero. He continued to stare at you with his ocean, blue eyes before turning around and following his boss, Shigaraki.

 It was the end of the day for the kids, but not the end of the day for you, unfortunately. You had to stay back to finish grading and also to get ahead of preparing next week’s materials. You didn’t stay back too often, but today was just one of those days. Your phone buzzed next to you. Checking the notification real quick, you stopped everything you were doing when you saw Hawks’ name pop up.

Can’t wait to see you tonight.

God, you swore he made you feel like you guys were in high school again. Something about him just made your heart race and make you feel giddy inside. Sometimes the emotion was too much that you feel like you wanted to explode. You took a deep breath to calm yourself. Deep breaths. You guys weren’t together. Just casual hookups. That’s all it was. Nothing more. No need to feel like a teenage girl again. But the moment you saw his text message again, all those feelings you were trying to repress were coming back tenfold. As soon as you were about to text him back, your phone died. You cursed yourself for not being a portable charger.

You were almost done with your work for the day. By the time you looked out the window, the sun had set. You didn’t realize that you were at the office for that long. Knowing that your phone died and it was dark outside, something in your gut was telling you something wasn’t right. But it was generally safe around this part of town. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone home like this before. Nothing happened then. Nothing was going to happen this time. You gathered your belongings and headed back home.

Hawks stared at his phone. You had seen his text message so why weren’t you responding? Maybe you were trying to play hard to get. Okay, he can get down with that. He just had to show you a good time tonight to get rid of that attitude. Looking at his watch, the minute hand just hit 6. Great, he had one more hour until his shift was over and then he was on his way to your heaven.

Just then, Hawks stopping in his tracks, letting a few of his feathers sharply fly into a dark alleyway. He stalked towards the alleyway, senses on high alert. He had pinned a dark figure against the wall. Not enough where his feathers pierced his skin but enough to keep him in his place.

“Who are you.” Hawks demanded, ready to pull out his sword made out of his feathers in case this guy pulls any tricks. The figure didn’t say anything. But Hawks was patient. “Oi, I can do this all day.” This made the figure burst out laughing. His laugh was menacing enough to leave chills running down his back. Okay, he was dealing with a crazy person. He wasn’t going to let his guard down. This could turn real bad.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man said as he finished laughing. He lifted his head to reveal his greyish-blue hair, cracked skin and wild eyes. Shigaraki Tomura! Without hesitation, Hawks whipped out his sword-like weapon and put the tip against Shigaraki’s neck. This made Shigaraki start his giggle fit again.

“(y/n), isn’t it? Pretty name.” Upon hearing your name come out of his chapped lips, Hawks became angry and tightened his grip on his sword. But he knew he shouldn’t do anything rash. Now that they know your name, he couldn’t let anything happen to you.

“What do you want?” he asked through his teeth. He was so angry that he clenched his teeth together to hard that they could break if he tightened them any harder. Shigaraki refused to answer. “Are you here alone?” he continued to ask. Hawks took a deep breath and concentrated on the air. He couldn’t feel anyone around them. So he was alone. Easier on him then. “Then no one’s going to save you when I slice your head off!” he lifted his sword, ready to attack him. But Shigaraki smirked, his body turning into black sludge, forming a puddle below him. This caused Hawks to stop his attack midair, mortified at the sight he was seeing. Shigaraki looked up at the hero and then in the direction of your school.

“I’m not the one who needs saving.” He said before completely turning into a black mess on the floor. He was gone. But that’s not what was important. “(y/n)…” he whispered your name and in a second, he was already in the air, flying straight to your school. “Shit, shit, SHIT!” he screamed, impressively weaving through buildings. He was trying to get to you as fast as he could, pushing himself to his limits, but it wasn’t enough! He tried calling you. Over and over again. But you weren’t picking up. His heart started to race like never before. No. This was not happening. He reached your school but when he saw how dark your school was, his heart sank. But he never knew. He dispersed all his red feathers to search the school. Again, nothing. No one was there. He checked your place. Not there. He checked his place. Not there either. So, where the hell were you?

You were almost back at your apartment when you felt fear take over your whole body. You could feel eyes watching you, but you didn’t know what to do. You were frozen in fear. All of a sudden, multiple figures appeared from the shadows, surrounding each side of you. With each step they took towards you, the more you were physically shaking. You eyed all of them, trying to figure out what kind of defensive attack you could do, but there were too many of them. All you could do was run. But where to? They would catch you no matter what direction you went in. But it was better than surrendering yourself to them. So you did it. You ran like your life depended on it. Like you predicted, you were caught easily. One of the guys caught your arm in a tight hold, bringing you down. But you don’t remember what happened next because the next thing you knew, you were seeing black. You passed out.

 You jolted awake. But your vision was cut off something covering your eyes. Most likely a blindfold. Or at least, you hoped it was a blindfold. You tried to move but it was useless. You were sitting in a chair, hands tied behind your back and feet tied together. A cloth was also wrapped around your mouth to prevent you from speaking. Classic. What a classic way to wake up to a kidnapping. Soon enough, someone took off your blindfold. White, blinding light abused your poor eyes. You couldn’t help but squint at the sudden brightness and tried to blink so that you could get used to it. But moment you completely opened your eyes to your surroundings, the first thing you saw were sapphire eyes. And for a moment, a flashback flashed before your eyes: seeing the red haired boy you used to love. Coming back to reality, he may have the same eyes but he was not the person you were imagining. He had black hair, purple scars all over his face and body, and staples carved into his skin. He looks into your eyes and smirks.

“Morning Doll.”

A/N: Let’s do this again. TeamHawks or TeamDabi????

Tagged: @ditu-m9 @flowersgirl02 @snuckerfrcnicken @complicatedharry @bestgirlkonan

#dabi x reader #hawks x reader #Touya x reader #hawks imagines #dabi imagines #bnha dabi #bnha hawks #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #touya is dabi change my mind

[deathisanartmetzli]

Cabin in the Woods || Eilidh & Metzli

TIMING: Current, at night

PARTIES: @BRAINDEACL​ @DEATHISANARTMETZLI​

SUMMARY: Metzli goes on the hunt for some vampires, and Macleod joins in on the fun.

CONTAINS: Domestic abuse, Emotional Abuse, Gore

Despite Metzli’s best efforts to quash any sense of anxiety that built up like a mountain on their chest, the pressure only seemed to build. After the pleasurable moments of distraction, laying in the dirt, surrounded by nature, they wished they could go back to that. Laying there with Eilidh was easy, it felt like it was a grace to not linger like a tragedy in slow motion, or a heartbreak set on pause. They walked next to Eilidh, tracking the scent of the vampires. It started so faint, and within an hour, it had thickened and spread around.

Eloy would inevitably find Metzli, even if they took out the vampires they were attempting to find. They were just prolonging the ending they already played in their head on repeat. Like a video cassette they kept rewinding of a movie that had not even been made yet. But they persisted, and used the martial arts approach to protecting their world. Fear and anger were their self defense as they disregarded the cost of going against their once master. No running, just going forward to protect. Because nothing was more precious. It was priceless. It was their home.

“The scent is overwhelming all around. They must scavenge and frequent this whole area. How do you feel about splitting up? The scent is pretty evenly coated and has been for the last few hundred paces.” Metzli explained and looked towards Eilidh, who was only a foot away. “What do you think?”

The trees watched them transgress in their territory. Gaze always, usually, a comfort for as long as Eilidh could remember. And they had felt as such, only moments prior. In those pleasant pauses. But now their presence felt scrutinizing. Tainted by the tense energy in air, radiating off Metzli. Bouncing off that bark, ricocheting down on Eilidh. She watched them with a hidden caution. Their high nerves concealed with a stoned expression. But every box got its leaks. She saw those tremors in hands, those strained breaths in chest. Soldier set to war. Without a choice but to move forward into certain peril. Eilidh had that choice, but she matched those dreaded steps. Hers tensed with anger and a hunger to rip and shred. Send those sources of anxiety to floor in tattered bits—reduced to confetti. And to sprinkles down her throat.

Eilidh saw those nose twitches. At first light but sent to frenzy as unseen predators grew closer. Her own stayed still—unaware of any approaching danger. Her mouth twitched instead, turned to grin. “Like I said. You go right. I go left.” Eyes went to that chosen destination. Only darkness met them, but mind filled in the blanks. Placed those hidden enemies in sights. Sent her hand a twitch in anticipation. Her chest rumbling in hunger. Her attentions went back to Metzli for a moment. Enough to spare a parting kiss. And to press her hand on their chest. To that concealed gift—necklace with a black pendant. A bit off her thigh providing color. Used as both beacon and reminder. That she’ll always be close, even now, when she turned and raced off into the woods. Before the darkness took her, she shouted behind. “Don’t let ‘em kill you! I’ll be pissed!”

It felt strange to receive a tender kiss from someone who used so much force, so much passion. Eilidh had given them a gift, one they were told to keep on in case of any danger. James, the ghost bound to her, who seemed antsy when they presented red eyes and fangs, he would be their walkie talkie of sorts. A piece of her attached to them so he could aid them in their search. “No promises!” Metzli responded just as loudly, and with as much light energy as they could muster. Eilidh faded into the trees, and they watched for a few moments before they turned around and continued down their chosen path. Blood and death overflowed from every tree, meaning that the clan members had been around long enough to hunt several times. That didn’t sit right with them in the slightest.

“So how long have you been, uh, dead? I think I’m going on 110 years or so. Kinda lost track.” Metzli asked awkwardly, not knowing how to talk to someone who they didn’t know and seemed to get nervous at any signs of their vampirism.

James watched Eilidh disappear. Despite the lack of visual, he knew where she journeyed. Not a feeling or a thought. But something even deeper. Like he was a passenger in her mind. His attentions shifted and felt that knowing grow quiet but not disappear. Eyes went to one more tangible, to the one called Metzli. He knew nothing but stories. But the way Eilidh described them, the way her eyes lit up. It was in the way when she found others with that ‘touch of the wild’ as she so called it. And it made him on edge. While he lacked any sort of flesh and blood the vampire could attack, he tensed. For his body remembered, despite his true one having rotted to nothing long ago. And he tried to bury this concern, like that old body. But Metzli would not let the thought of death escape him. There was a following silence as he gawked at them. “Um. That’s not really a conversational topic I start with…” His arms crossed against his chest, as if that incorporeal barrier could do anything.

Face grew dark and tense as leaves and twigs crunched, marking every step they took. There was no avoiding it, but it made them flinch every time. Giving away their position would prove fatal, but the area was chosen for that reason. Keen hearing was not only their ally, but their enemy too. Metzli trudged on for about twenty minutes, following tracks and carcasses that grew in number. Meaning, they were getting closer. Their phone vibrated with notifications, and they removed it from their pocket to see a few messages. Feet continued to move while they were distracted by the screen and James’ incoming answer. “Sorry. I’m not good at conversation starters. I figured it was fine, you know? Death, and me being a vampire. I mean, vampires are vicious, but you like Milo and he attacked our friend Bex the other day. But like she’s fine and—” They gave an update until their peripherals caught sight of an anomaly. A cabin. “Que suerte...”

James wanted to leave. Not that Eilidh was particularly better in regard to source of his anxieties. But she was a monster he knew well—knew how to talk to. And had grown to care for, despite his better judgement. And he had grown to care for Milo as well with a hope he could escape that nature. Young and new with the thought of humanity still fresh on his mind. But the news broke that illusion. Not immediately, only a crack at first. Denial trying to keep the wall up. Mind went blank. Then it was all too much. “What… what? No. He- No he didn’t.” He stammered, something of a laugh on his lips though he felt no amusement. Mouth couldn’t form words just as mind couldn’t form thoughts. Sailboat lost to a raging sea. Trying to steer clear, but he was close to drowning. Before he could be swept under, before that wall could break—he vanished.

Eyes were transfixed by the cabin, by the sheer amount of death permeating from within. Even with blurred sight from distraction, they could see James on the other side of their peripherals, he was saying something but they couldn’t make out what. There had to be at least six vampires within the residence, and that took precedence over his sudden disappearance. While their fingers hovered over the screen of their phone, something knocked them down. Someone.

Phone flew several feet away, but that wasn’t important now. A whistle of alarm reverberated against the trees, and Metzli pulled out a stake from their side and plunged it into the vampire, killing him and cutting the whistle short. It was too late though, and they could hear a door break open. Gaze locked onto four vampires sprinting from the cabin straight for them. Matching their vigor, Metzli booked it towards one and plunged the stake into her chest. Another one down. Only five more to go. The three that were left leapt for them, trying to overwhelm them. It worked, but by some miracle, the stake plunged into yet another chest, leaving only two to land punch after punch on them.

Two more vampires stepped out from the cabin, and Metzli was forced to watch as a familiar face got dangerously close to theirs. Fighting back was futile while their head was being held up by their hair and their arms were locked behind them. “Hola Metzli. Hace mucho tiempo.” Tremors overtook their body as they stared right into the vampire’s eyes. The vampire who was their partner when it came to protecting Eloy. “Chinga tu pinche madre, Anselmo.” They spat through gritted teeth, right before a bone crunching punch to the face.

Blip! Blink of an eye, James was back. Face still contorted as mind could not see past that unresolved conversation. That wall gaining new cracks—close to shattering. “Was that just a, um, weird joke or something because I didn’t think it was funny and I’d really like it if you- Oh!” More eyes than expected were watching him. He stared with just his two. Then vanished again.

Another punch landed onto their face, and Anselmo laughed. “Did you really think you could run away? Did you really think Master Eloy would let you go?” Metzli locked eyes with the vampire and spat at him. Black blood spattered over his face and rage filled his eyes. “Fuck you, and fuck Eloy!” Metzli retaliated, lunging forward and breaking the grasp that held their hair. Forehead met nose and Anselmo screamed in agitation. Using the moment of distraction, they grabbed the stake from the ground and took out yet another vampire. Three left to go. But just as the point rushed around to make impact with the other, Anselmo’s hand wrapped around Metzli’s, giving him the chance to throw them on the ground.

Their face hurt, and the pain spread throughout their body as he pinned them down and attacked their throat. Red eyes locked only momentarily right before teeth sank in, threatening to dig deeper. Deeper and deeper, Anselmo attempted to sever the attachment their head held onto their body. Metzli was going to break their promise. The fear of that grew as their strength depleted, unable to make their arms do anything. They had taken too much damage, they needed blood.

The scent of death was potent. But there was one who did not match. A flat note in the choir. And growing louder. Closer. Threatening to ruin the whole show. But the show only faltered for a moment, something of a reprieve found in their brief consideration. Barely a murmur was uttered—something deeper transpired between the vampires. An understanding was found in that veiled conference, quick and efficient to not distract from the main course. Not a moment wasted, Anselmo simply waved a vampire off before following that motion down into a strike upon Metzli. The chosen protector, or chosen sacrifice depending on the point-of-view, followed that clashing note. Foxhound on the fox. But this fox knew how to bite back. And when he found the source of distraction, woman with the chattering teeth, he came to understand just how hard.

Eilidh threw the stake in her hand. It whistled through the air, ending in a meaty thud. Coming to a quick stop inside the vampire’s chest. He had only a second to stare at her in confusion before crumpling. Dead. Stride merely slowing, Eilidh fished out the stake from his remains. Then regained her former speed, as inhuman as the glint in her eyes. Feet beat fast but light on the ground. If she was devoid of that telling scent she may have been able to ambush. But they would be waiting for her, she was sure of it. She had known even before the encounter in the woods. But time and experience had revealed tricks against that pesky disadvantage.

As that foreign scent became church bells, all those bloodthirsty eyes turned to meet it. Something humanoid, something familiar, was the expectation. A known enemy they had all replayed in their minds killing with a familiarity. What stood at the treeline had the shape of a human. Kind of. If the outline had been filled with static. The touch of mundanity made where it differed all the more jarring. All parties stood still. Until a single “¡¿Que demonios es eso?!” broke them out that trance. One vampire ran to meet the thing in the woods. But his pace was weighed with hesitation: could this thing even be killed? Eilidh rumbled with a metallic shriek—undecided form convulsing in beat. And when her arm struck out to stake this one’s chest, it looked more tree than limb. He fell as fast as the one in the woods. Returned to the Earth.

Anselmo laughed as weak arms could not grip, could not gather enough leverage to shove him off. Photos were taken unbeknownst to them, and sent off. Evidence of their struggle. Metzli grew worried that they wouldn’t be able to manage. People have hope because they cannot see death standing behind them. But not Metzli. Their eyes had been ingrained on death’s visage, losing all hope in the process. Never fearing death because it was the one thing they could count on. But White Crest had given them everything they needed to want to look away from those hollow eyes. And as reality settled in, darkness consumed their sight. A muffled and distant voice growled. Eilidh’s scent filled their nose. Metzli began to imagine what hope would feel like. And wish that they had never looked death in the eyes. That way, they could be blissfully unaware. So they didn’t have to feel, for the very first time, the fear of dying.

The punching and biting ceased as Anselmo and two other vampires Metzli didn’t notice before, looked towards Eilidh. What they believed to be Eilidh. A sharp pain caused them to groan, and even through hazy vision, they could see two knives inside of their torso. Anselmo rose off of them and leered at the crazed undead creature before him. His body was rigid, unsure what to make of the foul thing before him. This was the break Metzli needed. Looking down at the knives, they attempted to raise their arms, which were feeling like they weighed tons. And then, one of the knives came into focus. It was their old knife. The one Eloy made for them. The one they used to fight with.

Anger surfaced onto Metzli’s face and a newfound resolve formed in their chest. Fighting against the hunger and pain, they removed the knives jutting out of them, and rose to their stumbling feet, tackling Anselmo to the ground. Fangs and knife pierced skin. A foul taste filled their mouth, but they didn’t care. All that mattered were the screams of pain and the knife that plunged into Anselmo over and over again until he knocked them back, looming over them to once again gain the upper hand.

Another quickly took her opponent's place, but this vampire was faster than that amalgamated arm. Ensnaring Eilidh in her grip. Hands grappled hands, grappled bodies. Her stake tumbled to the grass in the fervorous skirmish. A third noticed the vulnerability, and made quick to exploit. Rushing into the fray, two against one. But it was actually two against two. The second was enveloped in a strange feeling. A foreign pressure. A lingering cold. Enough to preoccupy for mere seconds, but each counted in a fight. Eilidh shifted her weight, brought that first opponent—still trapped in each other’s holds—closer to chattering teeth. And they did as nature intended. Bit and tear. Severing any connection her nose had to her face. It too tumbling into the grass. Overwhelmed with pain, enough constitution was lost to let Eilidh get closer. And those bloodied teeth found her neck. And bit equally as hard. With mouth at work, Eilidh’s hand was free to slip up skirt. Gripping tight a silver dagger. Blade met the vampire’s neck on opposite side, until her incisors and metal joined in the middle.

With a twitch, Eilidh severed the last remaining tendons connecting neck to torso. The head rolled off with ease, joining its nose on the ground. James’ trick had gone stale and the third vampire was ready to try his chances. Eyes free from the glaze of distraction, completely locked on her. But her own was placed elsewhere, far away. To the confrontation between Metzli and that stranger. She didn’t like how Metzli looked. She didn’t like how this man looked at them. Not one fucking bit. A snarl burned in her throat, but it sounded like chainsaws to any near. The vampire closest tried to be a substitute for her broiling anger. He pounced at her, but she simply shoved him into the dirt. Hardly a thought to make sure he wasn’t following when she rushed to the distant altercation. Before the stranger was able to fully turn, confront that approaching death, she leapt onto his exposed back. Arms looping around his shoulders—stifling any movement. He bucked and shrieked like a wild stallion, but she had encountered worse. Those arms only grew tighter. Teeth tried to find that neck, but it jerked out of hold. Accidentally meeting an ear instead. Incisors latched on anyway, ripping off the flesh and cartilage. The shrieking grew louder. Her own primal sounds filled that air, in lieu of words. Mind having no room to translate. But there was still an intention in each grunt. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

Wide eyes stared as Anselmo could no longer move. Eilidh’s firm and powerful grasp held him in place and he wailed in agony as a piece of him was torn away. “M-Macleod...I—” Metzli shook uncontrollably. Understanding washed over their face, but they couldn’t move, couldn’t force their body to lunge forward with the knife in their hand. A slippery grip tightened around it, beckoning them to do it. To kill their partner of thirty years. The very partner who had sworn to protect their abuser with them. No more. Those days were over and a new one was on the horizon. Finding the motivation, they rose to their feet, only swaying slightly.

“Todo lo que nos enseño Eloy fue malo. Y ahora, voy cambiar a todo.” The knife plunged into the center of Anselmo’s chest and he gasped with the widest eyes. His eyes met with Metzli’s for a split moment before he crumbled into nothing. As pieces of him fell, so too did Metzli. A hand reached out for Eilidh, but contact was never made. Their body gave way to the crushing pain, forcing them to the ground. Neck revealed the damage, the death they almost met. Black liquid stained their skin.

In spite of the overwhelming agony, a weight was lifted, and a piece of them felt free. “Thanks Mac—” Their hand reached out but fell to the ground as spots of black coated everything in sight. “Need blood.” Metzli’s voice was hoarse, throat dry from the urgent need of sustenance. Their body went rigid, as still as a statue while their body began to render itself into a comatose state of preservation.

They crumbled into her arms, and Eilidh instinctively covered that battered body with her own. Eyes surveying the suspicious quiet. She knew there were others. The one she had shoved no longer lay in the dirt. But he seemed to lay no where, absent entirely. Somewhere. Anywhere. Who knew how many were like that, in an unknown somewhere. Waiting to come back. Or waiting for her to find them. Have them join the others in that growing pile of ash. She lacked any innate warning signals—relying on average ears and eyes. And they both revealed nothing, except a peace she did not trust. And this unknowing would be fine—mysteries a commonality in her life—if she did not have two tasks at hand. Protecting and feeding. To hunt would leave Metzli exposed; to guard would leave them to starve. And either would benefit from knowing where the fuck anyone was. So, divide and conquer.

Eilidh called to James, meaning to do so in words but only squawks came out. He understood regardless—even a simple look would’ve sufficed. In his own look, there was a creeping tension. Formed deeper lines and tighter jaw the closer he got to Metzli. In another state of mind, she would have the thought to wonder. To decipher those subtle flinches and squirming. To find what hid in each wrinkle, each twitch—a practice she was good enough to be tenured. But that was too much thinking and not enough doing. He was where she needed him to be and that’s all that registered. With that confirmation, she returned to the woods. Leaving James with Metzli and a strange sense of déjà vu.

Minutes passed before Eilidh’s return. Sporting a fresh layer of crimson on her hands and face. The body she carried too covered in fresh blood. Though it only met their paws, head no longer present. Torn away by ravaging bites. Enough to appease her hunger, to allow herself to do away with the kill. Though a part did want to hesitate, to consume the coyote in entirety. But seeing Metzli again, remembering in clarity their state. It appealed to something deep inside her. It told the hesitation to fuck off. She dropped the corpse near Metzli without a second thought. Remembering how to speak, she uttered a single word. “Eat.”

Obediently and with some difficulty, Metzli navigated their body to the coyote, consumed by the ravenous need to eat. When the blood hit their tongue, a feral fervor took control and fangs pierced the corpse, draining it quickly. It tasted better than usual, and they supposed starvation would do that to just about anything. At this state, Metzli would even drink from a werewolf.

No longer able to get another drop, fangs retracted and their body was upright once again. Now on auto-pilot, Metzli took steps that teetered to one side, but they remained standing. “There might be others. We—I—” Eyes tightened shut, trying to relieve any residual dizziness. “Hunt for food. Then hunt for stragglers.” Voice was vacant of their personality, laser-focused on finishing the job thoroughly.

“Thank you, Macleod,” A mutter, but not too low so that it went unheard. Grass depressed underneath their feet as they reached Eilidh to leave a bloody kiss on her cheek. “I will find a way to repay you. For now, let's search together. No splitting up. Not this time.” Crimson eyes locked with Eilidh’s briefly before turning and limping softly in their chosen direction, waiting for her to follow and finally put an end to the encounter.

#wickedswriting #eilidh and metzli #chatzy #domestic abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #gore tw

[bakugotrashpanda]

Sunshine

Shinsou x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2310

!!Angst-ish?

Quirk courtesy of @kiliakit​: A light-based quirk where the user absorbs any light. That light is then stored inside them and can be expelled by the user. More of a search and rescue type quirk with various drawbacks.

Please don’t take my Sunshine away...

“Put her underground. Make it deep.”

You feel your body leave the burly arms that restrained you and fall through space. Bruises on your face prevent you from opening your eyes completely, but you’re able to make out a deep hole. The rocky walls scrape you on your descent to the bottom of… wherever you are.

Luckily, it’s not a free fall, but more of a roll-down-a-slope. Still, the impact jars your body with each bump you encounter. With fatigue set in, all you can do is curl up and protect yourself the best you can.

As you roll to a stop at the bottom, you crack an eye open and see the hole above you start to close. You stumble towards the wall as the ramp shifts back into it and feebly claw your way up, as if it would help you make it to the exit in time.

Total darkness surrounds you. As a hero who depends on light for your quirk to work, you won’t last long in this place.

Judging on how you’re feeling, you don’t have much energy stored up. Raising your hand toward the top, you release a small burst of light. It lasts just long enough for you to see the top of the pocket you’re in. It has to be a mountain of some kind, based on how far down you are. But who got the drop on you? And why would they want you here?

Checking your pocket, you find your phone miraculously unharmed. But your heart drops when you see that there’s less than five percent of the battery life left. Your body draws in the small amount of light from the screen. It’s comforting, but won’t do much for your quirk and any escape attempts. 

You’ll only get one shot at this. Typing a message, you hit send and wait. 

4%

Deep within the mountain, your phone struggles to send it. It barely has one bar of service. Holding it higher gives you a false sense of hope.

3%

“No, no, please don’t die.” You watch the send bar struggle to reach across the screen.

2%

“If there’s someone out there looking out for me,” you murmur, “please let this message get out.” If there were any gods looking out for me, they wouldn’t have let me get captured in the first place. The bar inches closer to the other side.

1%

“Please,” you chant over and over again. Just as the bar reaches its goal, your screen goes dark. You sit there in stunned silence. Tapping the screen repeatedly, you find your phone is dead. 

“No. No, no, no!” Panic floods your senses and the adrenaline coursing through your body works overtime. Did it send before it died? “Shinsou, I hope you got it. Please come find me.”

 Across town, Shinsou sits on top of a building. Binoculars to his eyes, he tracks a deal about to go down.

“Target is on the move,” Shinsou whispers into his coms. “Chargebolt, coming towards you.” His phone vibrates in his pocket. A quick glance at the screen reveals a message from Aizawa asking about a status update. Shinsou internally groans and puts his phone on Do Not Disturb. 

Another phone buzzes. Unknown Number. This is the call Shinsou has been waiting for. Adjusting the voice on his Artificial Vocal Cords, he answers the phone. 

“You’re late,” he snapped. It’s easy to copy voices, but the way someone speaks is more difficult- unless you’ve spent weeks listening in and studying wiretaps.

“I’m here now,” a skittish voice replied. Through his binoculars, Shinsou could see the target shift nervously from foot to foot. He had to play this right so he wouldn’t run.

“You have what I want?” Shinsou asks.

“I have something even better,” the man giggles. It sets Shinsou on edge. The burner phone starts ringing. Another unknown number. Shinsou declined it and watched his target. The man looks at his phone before putting it back up to his ear.

“I’d take that if I were you!”

“Take him,” Shinsou says into his earpiece and watches as his task force collapses on the man. Maniacal laughter rings through the night as heroes converge on him. From his binoculars, Shinsou can see the smile that doesn’t reach the man’s eyes. 

It’s no use staying on the line with him. The other unknown number flashes on his screen, taunting him. Against his better judgement, Shinsou answers. 

“Shinsou,” a voice says. It’s deep and gravelly, and also eerily familiar.

“Who are you?” Shinsou asks, in the same gravelly voice. 

“You know who I am-” Shinsou activates his quirk. 

“Cut the crap, what do you want?” Shinsou asks.

“I want you to become the villain you were meant to be,” the voice says before taunting, “I have something precious of yours. This will either be the start of both of your careers on the other side of the law, or the beginning of your tragic backstory that leads you to the dark side. Either way, I will get what I want.” Laughter rings in Shinsou’s ears. Something precious to him? The start of both of your careers?

“I have the ‘Sunshine of your Life’ as it were,” the deep voice cuts through Shinsou’s thoughts. Shinsou remains silent, waiting for the man to reveal his hand. “Aw nothing? She’d be so sad knowing you don’t care an ounce about her. Poor Y/N.”

Time stands still as all the air leaves Shinsou’s body. His blood freezes in his veins. Your name anchors his heart deep in a pit of despair. 

No one knows about the two of you. Since Shinsou works undercover, neither of you want the paparazzi throwing his face on tabloids and ruining any missions he is running. He was so careful; making sure no one saw him enter or exit your building, making sure you weren’t followed when it was date night, and having friends run interference when needed.

“Where is she?” Shinsou demands.

“She’s safe, for now.” The man sighs, “You didn’t really think that I wouldn’t know that you were listening to my every conversation? I knew what your plan was. It was smart too, putting two rival quirk inhibiting drug distributors against each other? You would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for the fact that you and your crew were sloppy. You, Shinsou Hitoshi, you could have probably done it on your own. You do most things on your own, don’t you? But-” 

The man droned on and on. Shinsou let him monologue, it gave him more time to plan and get the call traced. He pulls out his personal phone and sees a text from you.

Y/N: deep underground. don’t know where. mountain? help

Shinsou would have to answer it later. He texts Aizawa that things turned and he needs a trace on his current phone call and on the last text message you sent. He then texts Kaminari’s agency in hopes that if Aizawa is busy or unsuccessful, they would have some luck.

“So, what do you say?” the oily voice says in his ear, “It’s her life on the line. You’re not an idiot. You wouldn’t gamble with that, would you?”

“I’ll need time to cut all ties,” Shinsou says, “Make it look less suspicious and clean up any loose ends.” Without waiting for a reply, he hangs up and turns his Artificial Vocal Cords off. Talking to Kaminari one more time, he says, “Leave it for the police, we have bigger problems.”

The drive back to Kaminari’s agency feels painfully slow. Shinsou can’t get his mind off of you, and Kaminari’s driving isn’t fast enough for his liking.

“You need to go faster,” Shinsou says. His knuckles are white on the door handle as if his pain could be transferred into speed for the car.

“I’m already going ten over,” Kaminari responds but speeds up anyway.

-

“Tell me we have something,” Shinsou demands and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. After being so careful, this shouldn’t have happened. Did this mean he was being watched? How long was he under surveillance?

Deep down, Shinsou knows he isn’t going to accept their offer… But how far would he go to keep you safe? Would he join up with them just to get you back and then make a break for it? What if they brainwash you into thinking that the villains are the good guys? When would he accept that there is no getting you back?

“We do, but you’re not going after him,” Kamui Woods says. Shinsou has half a mind to throttle the hero. They’re the ones that put the request on the Hero Network for my help. If it weren’t for them, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

“Wait, we’re not leaving Y/N there!” Kaminari protests.

“No, but Shinsou isn’t an official part of our team. He-”

“I’m not doing this without him,” Kaminari crosses his arms. If there’s one thing Shinsou’s grateful for, it’s that he made friends with Kaminari back at UA.

Kamui Woods studies both the men before sighing and handing them each a paper.

“This is the general location of Y/N’s last text,” Kamui Woods explains, “She’s somewhere between these three cell towers. There’s a lot of ground to cover, and it’s close to the suspected area of the drug distributors you were impersonating today.”

Shinsou looks at the map and scowls. “Looks like we have our work cut out for us.”

-

Being stuck in the inky black hole is like being in a sensory deprivation tank, except instead of feeling like you’re floating, you can feel every bump and bruise on your body caused by the rocky cave. You’ve exhausted every avenue of escape, but there’s no way out. Whoever tossed you down this hole clearly has some kind of earth manipulation quirk, and they made sure you wouldn’t be able to escape.

How much time has passed since you sent out your last text? There’s no sun or moon, and the cave doesn’t heat up from the sun’s rays. Oh the sun, how you long to feel her warm embrace. Usually, with your quirk, you’re able to feel an inner warmth from the light energy you’ve absorbed. Right now, though, you feel empty and cold. You would even settle for the light reflected off the moon. It’s not nearly as fulfilling, but once your stored energy faded, you realized how utterly alone you are.

You’ve never let your quirk go for this long without absorbing more light. The thought of having another drawback scares you. The hollow feeling in your stomach gnaws at you.

“What if there’s a new side effect?” you ramble to yourself, “What if, instead of using too much energy and having blinding migraines, I turn into a black hole and try to absorb everything around me?”

“Aw, Kitten,” Shinsou purrs, “What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Toshi?” you struggle to sit up, but when you do, you see Shinsou in front of you. “What are you doing here? You can’t be real.”

“You’re not a blackhole,” Shinsou says, completely ignoring what you were saying, and sits cross-legged in front of you. “You’re my Sunshine.”

“I feel so cold, Toshi. What if I’m absorbing darkness instead?” You fight the tears welling in your eyes. Crying won’t help you right now. “I won’t be your sunshine anymore.”

“Then you’ll be my Moon,” Shinsou shrugs. You both stare at each other in comfortable silence.

“I’m scared,” you whisper. Your chest tightens, and your breathing becomes shallower. How long have I been down here?

“I know.” Shinsou’s smile is sad and you want nothing more than to make everything alright. 

“Will you find me?” you ask and curl up in a ball. You can’t even remember the last time you slept. 

“Always.”

Your eyes flutter closed with that final promise. You know he’ll come find you. He has to. But for now, you have to rest. 

-

I found something!” A voice calls out. You recognize it. At least you think you do… One of Shinsou’s friends? Or maybe a friend of a friend? What was his name… 

“Is she in there, Red Riot?” You know that voice too, but Red Riot is definitely the first voice. Your body aches as you unfold yourself from the position you were sleeping in. A small warmth seeps into your bones, but that shouldn’t happen unless-

Light.

Crawling towards the small patch of moonlight being let in, you feel the light mixing with the empty darkness in your body. Am I taking in darkness? Or is it my imagination?

“It’s her! I can’t tell if she’s conscious or not,” Red Riot calls back to… Is it Shinsou? It sounds like him… “I’m going to dig further down on the hill so we can carry her out instead of waiting for equipment to pull her out!”

Don’t leave me alone again

It feels like ages, but eventually you hear a rhythmic chopping sound coming closer to you. The rocky wall closest to you crumbles, revealing Red Riot. Shinsou runs out from behind him and rushes to your side. Worry is etched into his face, and the dark circles under his eyes seem deeper than normal.

“You made it,” you say softly. Hands poke and prod you as they check your vitals, but all you can focus on are the indigo eyes above you.

“Always.”

Shinsou didn’t leave your side as you were transported to the hospital. You clung to him as if your life depended on it. For all you knew, your life did depend on it. You didn’t want him disappearing again - as long as you were holding him, everything was real and you would be alright.

 --

A/N: I wanted the summary to be a lyric of You Are My Sunshine, but most of the lines sound sorta creepy out of context 😬 Also didn’t edit so if you find any like... notes about plot in there, let me know

Image in banner by ksinica on unsplash

#bnha imagines #shinsou #shinsou x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #kaminari #kamui woods #kirishima #angst #writing #.

[landoftheway]

FFXIV Nier Raid Connections

Since it seems most folks have had time to play the raid by now, I’m gonna speculate on the connections between the raid series and the Drakengard/Nier franchise. Under a cut for both length and spoilers:

Before I get into the details, I wanna preface this with two things:

The themes of Yoko Taro’s works have always been more important than the plot details, and I’m confident saying that holds true here. There’s a bunch of speculation I could get into about what this raid series is thematically about and how that relates to Taro’s other works, but that’s a separate matter I may or may not talk about. All I’ll say for now is that the central theming of this raid series and its associated story has been “belonging” from what I can tell.

As of the time of writing this, the story of the raid is technically not finished as we still have an unknown number of weekly lore updates to go through. I’m writing this now mostly just because I have thoughts I wanna express based on what’s in the raids themselves, but the new info we get in the coming weeks may change some of the conclusions I’ve reached. In that event I’ll either update this post or just delete it and make a new one.

Alright, with that out of the way let’s get into the connections themselves. If you’re not already familiar with the raid series, please either play it for yourself if possible or go look up footage of their contents in the order of their release, as I’ll be jumping all over the place with my thoughts.

The Breach Coin we get for clearing the third raid has the following description: “This round bit of metal, discovered within the machines' mind-bending tower, is stamped with the words "The Arc."” This obviously has a connection to the Arc that was shot from the original tower in Automata in Ending D, but I don’t think it’s proof that the forces we encounter in the raid came from the Arc itself. Given that the tower is clearly a recreation of the one from Automata as well as the entire point of the Arc in Automata being non-hostile, I don’t think it would make a lot of sense for there to be a causal link between the Arc going off into space and the forces that arrive in FFXIV. My best guess here is that the coin has this message simply because that was the original tower’s purpose and thus the recreated tower has surface-level similarities.

2B’s final message to the WoL states “We discovered that our enemies- the white-clothed androids, the tower, that colossal girl- came from that white orb. As did 9S and I.” Given what we know about the orb producing duplicates, I think it’s safe to assume that the 2B and 9S we encounter in FFXIV are also duplicates of the originals; this would also track with how much of their behavior and attitude seems more in line with their personalities near the start of Automata as opposed to the very end. This begs the question of how and why they and the duplicate Anogg would oppose the other forces produced from the orb, particularly considering that it very definitely appears to be a Seed of Destruction with all that that entails. It also begs of the question of how 2B will “save the memory of [her and 9S’s] reunion- and of the time we spent in this world, with you.”, considering that if they are indeed duplicates then they should presumably cease existing once the Seed is gone. My best guess is that 2B, 9S, and Anogg will continue to exist in some form on the “other side” of the Seed, and that perhaps the upcoming weekly lore will give us some more info on that. Though I do think all of this makes perfect sense thematically, so even if we never get a conclusive answer I wouldn’t consider this a big deal.

With the additional info we now have on Seeds of Destruction, I think we can pretty definitively work out both what they are and how this raid got kickstarted story-wise. The Seeds are “planted” in different worlds by the God/Gods (depending on translation) of the Drakengard universe and are the means by which their forces, the Watchers, can invade and wipe out humanity/mortal life. In the case of FFXIV, a Seed got planted on the First presumably by pure chance and began manifesting duplicates of the machine lifeforms from Automata as an initial invasion force meant to fully activate the Seed. Duplicates of 2B and 9S likely were not intended and may simply have manifested as a result of their deep connection to the fate of the machines, or they may have been produced by the Seed in order to create the false YorHa as a more effective invasion force than the basic machine lifeforms. Either way, the Seed is fully activated when the Red Girl duplicate enters it at the end of the third raid, becoming first a semi-formed and then fully-formed Mother Watcher (AKA a Grotesquerie Queen or Mother Angel, again depending on translation). Why exactly it took this long and this much effort to “activate” the Seed is unknown; we just don’t know enough about their inner mechanics to say for sure, though given how it took the magical seals in Drakengard breaking to unleash them it may be that they need a sufficient infusion of magic in order to fully activate. It’s also possible that Konogg and Anogg being the first to make contact with the Seed influenced what it drew on as inspiration for its invasion force; them being technology-obsessed could have influenced the Seed mimicking technological forces it already had something of a connection to (given the connection between the formation of Automata-era tech and the magic that was introduced to the world of Nier via the ending of Drakengard). But this is entirely speculative on my part, and I’m hopeful the upcoming lore will at least give us a little more info on this front.

Given how the Red Girl duplicate appears to “become” the Mother Watcher rather than simply summon her, I think it’s relatively safe to assume at this point that Mother Watchers are themselves born from Seeds, and given the ending of Drakengard 3 and how exposure to the Flower also leads to a similar transformation, I think we can also speculate that the Seeds are either born from or at least directly connected to the Black Flower. Given the symbolism of the terminology involved, the Seeds may literally be the seeds of the Black Flower (as many have speculated for a while), the flower itself being the God/Gods’ primary tool for destroying humanity or even a direct manifestation of them.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #nier

[haunted-by-catholic-guilt]

hey moon, please forget to fall down

*shows up after a month of nothing with starbucks* look its bad but its been in my WIP since august 

Tim woke up to a dull ache in his stomach.

He groaned, it was annoying but not so bad that it would affect his daily working, so he rolled himself out of bed, pausing only momentarily at the nausea he felt.

He ignored it, got up, and continued on his morning, eating only toast and drinking coffee, before getting dressed, which he found to be more painful than necessary, and left his apartment.

The commute to work was fine, maybe the lights were a little brighter then they had the right to be, and even the noises he heard were painful, somehow sharp and dull.

He got off at his stop, and made his way into the institute, putting on a fake smile and winking at Rosie as he walked to the Archives, before moving as fast as he could without causing the ache that has yet to subside to get any worse.

Jon was in, always was by the time he showed, but today Martin and Sasha were in too, must’ve been later than he thought.

He shrugged it off, and sat at his desk, not feeling well enough to even try to have a conversation, not that it would go well, the pain was distracting and lip-reading was never completely successful anyway.

A little while later, after he exchanged a quick and quiet greeting, Martin tapped him lightly on the shoulder and signed to him.

“Are you okay?”

Tim smiled, he knew he could tell Martin, but he didn’t want to worry anyone over something he knew was nothing, so he signed back

“Tired, I’m alright”

Martin didn’t look convinced but smiled softly at him.

“Ok, let me know if you need anything.”

Tim smiled and nodded back, and Martin shuffled back over to his desk, sharing a glance with Sasha Tim was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to see.

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Martin was worried, Sasha would say he was always worried, but it was different today.

Tim was quiet, his face was lined with pain, and his eyes weren’t quite as vibrant.

It was a little while later when Jon emerged from his office, his hair done in a bun at the base of his head, his cane tapping on the floor, Martin quickly and quietly grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to Tim, hoping he’d get it before Jon made his way to their desks.

He didn’t, and before he knew it Jon was leaning against the door frame, observing them, they mostly pretended to work.

“Goodmorning, Jon! How’re you today”

Martin was trying to distract from Tim a little bit, hoping he’d be able to hear him enough to snap him into focus on Jon, but Tim seemed like he was in another world.

“Better if you were working.”

And with that Jon left, Sasha rolled her eyes and gave Martin a small smile, but he was more concerned about Tim.

He walked over to his desk and tapped him lightly again, it took a second but he came to and looked at Martin, his eyes were glassy and his face was pale.

“What’s wrong?”

Tim looked tired, and he sighed.

“Not feelin the best, nothin to worry about.”

Martin scanned over the other man's frame, before lightly pressing the back of his hand to Tim’s cheek, moving it to his forehead, before removing it and signing again.

“You’re burning up, what’s going on?”

Tim was pretty sure he whined at that point, if he admitted he was sick he’d need to go home and he would be alone.

He didn’t want to be alone.

Whenever he had fevers he would get emotional, he knew this, so when Martin brushed his finger on his cheek, he didn’t even know he was crying, and that only made him start crying harder.

He felt someone else touch his arm, and looked up to see Sasha, with a bottle of water in her hand, he shook his head, the nausea from earlier coming back in full force.

He took a breath, he wouldn’t be sick, couldn’t be.

“I’m fine, I can work, I’m fine.”

Martin frowned, but wasn’t backing down, signing again, this time more demanding, but somehow still soft.

“Go lay down, at least, for a little while.”

Tim knew this wasn’t a fight he could win, and Sasha already had grabbed onto his arm and began to pull him up, steadying him when he starting to fall, and Martin vanished off outside of the office.

Sasha laid him down on the old couch, and he curled as small as he could into a ball, and he opened his eyes enough to see Sasha squint at him with concern in her eyes.

Martin was there the next time he opened his eyes, he had a blanket on him now, and Martin was holding a thermometer, Tim opened his mouth and let Martin take his temperature, he didn’t hear what it was, and he last saw Martin sign rest before drifting off to sleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Martin sighed, and sat back at his desk, Tim set up across the room with a blanket on a couch, a bucket next to his head, burning with fever.

It wasn’t hospital bad, but he also didn’t feel comfortable leaving Tim alone, and from Tim’s reaction, he didn’t want to be alone either.

Sasha had mentioned he looked like he was curling around his stomach, but stomach pain and fever could’ve been a number of things, and he thought it best not to worry about the what if’s.

“Martin, why is Tim sleeping on the couch.”

Jon was something he did need to worry about.

��He- uh- he wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone or him taking the tube, and I didn’t think he wanted to be alone either, so he’s sleeping on the couch until after work”

Jon didn’t seem happy with this.

“If he is that ill he needs to be home, not infecting the whole staff.”

Martin was sure he was about to make more complaints and arguments but was cut off by Tim, whining quietly and stirring on the couch.

Martin got up and walked over, running a hand through Tim’s sweat-soaked hair as he tried to curl deeper into himself.

Sasha walked over to stand next to Jon, watching Martin in his natural habitat of caretaking, as Tim had called it.

“He can stay, just don’t get sick, and if he gets worse take him home, you better work overtime next week.”

And with that, Jon left.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was around two hours later that Tim started to get worse.

Martin was working quietly at his desk, finishing up notes on some statements, and tracking people down for research when he heard Tim start to cry.

He quickly made his way over to Tim, just as he did Tim heaved and weakly gripped the bin in front of him.

After he was done being sick, Martin lifted a water bottle to his lips, not wanting him to dehydrate further, and went to move back to work, but Tim grabbed onto his arm, with surprising strength for how sick he was.

Martin sighed, he needed to work, but he also knew that being sick was bad enough at home, let alone on an old couch at work.

He adjusted Tim and sat behind him on the couch, the other man immediately curled around Martin, still trying to make himself smaller, and he winced as he moved.

Martin frowned and grabbed his phone, not able to sign with Tim basically on his lap, and not thinking Tim would be willing to sign back at all, so he quickly opened his notes and started to type.

‘What’s wrong?’

Tim looked offended by the light in his eyes when martin showed him the message, but ultimately grabbed the phone weakly and typed back.

‘Stomach hurts bad’

Martin frowned, but set his phone down and started to run his hand through Tim’s hair.

Jon walked in a little while, and crept over to stand next to the old couch, his cane tapping gently, he quickly reached out and brushed his hand awkwardly on Tim’s forehead, and sighed.

“Take him home, and keep me updated on him.”

Martin was surprised by this, Jon had always tried to remain professional and distant, but he didn’t want to question or argue with him.

He stood up, Tim groaned at the movement, but after a little while of getting ready to go, they made their way slowly to Martin‘s car, where Tim immediately curled into his passenger seat.

He drove him to his flat, not planning on leaving him alone for a while, and when he got to his place, he gently shook Tim awake, and they slowly made their way up to the flat.

After he unlocked the door, he settled Tim onto the couch, and switched out his bedsheets, and carefully ushered Tim into the bedroom.

Tim settled into the bed with little prompting, and Martin tucked a fuzzy blanket around his shoulders, and he left the room to get a cloth and cold water.

He was returning to the bedroom when he saw Tim curled up into a ball, sobbing, he was biting his lip so hard martin thought it was drawing blood, he quickly set the water on the side table and immediately sat next to Tim on the bed.

He knew that getting Tim to watch him sign or read whatever he typed would not work and that Tim probably wouldn’t be able to process what he was saying, so he hoped his movements were clear enough.

Martin suspected he knew what this was, so after he had moved Tim so he was laying out, flat on his back despite the obvious pain this caused, Martin lifted the shorter man’s shirt and pressed his hand on to the lower right side of Tim’s stomach.

At that, Tim let out a cry of pain, and immediately curled back around himself, and Martin knew what the next step was- the hospital.

First, he decided, he needed to tell Sasha and Jon, both had been worried, and they should know what was going on

Archival Gayng

Milk Kartin Blackwood- hey just so you two know im taking tim to AnE

Braincell Holder- What? Is everything okay? Do you need me to meet you there?

Bossman- Why does he need to go to AnE?

Martin Kartin Blackwood- i think he may have appendicitis but im not sure

Braincell Holder- Shit

Braincell Holder- I’ll meet you there

Boseman- Doesn’t appendicitis mean he will need surgery?

Martin Kartin Blackwood- yeah, i know that is more time off, but jon he is sick i don’t really care rn

Bossman- I don’t care about that right now.

Bossman- I care that my friend and employee might need surgery.

Bossman- Sasha, you’re still at the institute right? Can I come with you?

Braincell Holder- Of course, Jon, meet me outside in five. Martin, bring Tim to the hospital.

Martin Kartin Blackwood- ok

Martin sighed, and carefully maneuvered Tim in his arms so his head was tucked into the other’s neck and carefully grabbed the blanket that was around Tim and repositioned it over him again.

He quickly slipped on his shoes and grabbed the keys, and carried Tim out to his car where he once again curled into the passenger seat, his hands clutching his stomach.

Martin bit his lip as he got into the driver’s seat and started the drive to the hospital, it didn’t take long and when he got their, Sasha and Jon were standing in front of her car, Jon fidgeting with his hands and Sasha typing rapidly on her phone.

When he pulled in and was spotted, they immediately rushed over to where he parked and approached Martin anxiously as he got Tim out of his car, and immediately began to flutter around, trying to help.

By the time they had gotten Tim into the waiting room, Sasha and Martin began answering the questions on the sheet, and Jon sat quietly next to Tim and rubbed slightly awkward circles on his back when he curled over in pain.

When Tim was ushered into an exam room, Martin went with him, the others in the waiting room, and after some time, the doctor shared his suspicion, and he was taken away to a CT scan to get a confirmation.

After some time, the suspicion was confirmed and he was taken to surgery, and Martin was walked back out to the waiting area, left to explain the situation to Jon and Sasha.

Jon started to pace ten minutes after Tim had been taken back, and after another five of pacing, Sasha finally spoke up.

“Jon, are you alright?”

Jon stopped pacing and sighed.

“I’m just worried about Tim…”

Martin set his large hand on Jon’s shoulder, and the smaller man seemed to lean into it.

“It’ll be okay Jon, Tim is healthy, and appendicitis isn’t normally deadly if caught on time.”

Jon sank down on a squeaky hospital chair next to Sasha, and put his head in his hands, running a shaking hand through his hair.

“I know, I know, I just..”

He groaned, again, and Martin had to take a second to take it all in, Jon looked so incredibly.. different?

So far from the normal painfully professional and emotionless self he showed at the office, and Martin was then reminded that he was the odd one out here, he didn’t work in research with Tim, Sasha, or Jon.

He sighed and tried to push down the cold feeling that crept up his spine, and ignored the fact that he swore he could see fog seeping into the room from a closed door.

He sat on the chair next to Jon, and they all sat silently and waited.

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When Tim woke up, all he was aware of was the pain in his side.

He groaned and quickly moved his hand to cover it, but was stopped by the feeling of a tug in his arm, and a hand on his shoulder.

He pried open his eyes to see a worried Sasha looking down at him, but with the worry managed to be relief as well, and that was when the last twenty-four hours came back to him.

He sighed and pushed himself carefully into a sitting position, Sasha worriedly helping him, and he looked over and saw Martin asleep against the wall, and Jon leaning into him.

He was still tired and hurt, but he knew he would be taken care of, so he let himself fall asleep to Sasha helping him lay back down and running her hands through his hair.

#tma #tma sickfic #sickfics #sickfic #vomiting cw #jon sims has a cane #Jon sims #hoh tim stoker #tim stoker #martin blackwood #sasha james

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.18

a/n: all i can say is... BRING BACK CHRONOHAUL :) hope ya’ll like the chapter!

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 19

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @but-kairis-not-that-smart  @colorseeingchick (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

“Kurono.” Overhaul snapped. “We’re done for the day. Take Eri-chan to her room and give the new toy to keep her busy.”

Finishing the last part of the job, Kurono pinned Eri’s bandages and carried her. Watching as Overhaul left the room, he felt the little girl trembling in his hold. The past few days, his boss had been a little harsher on the girl and it showed when he opened her up without being warned. Patting her head, the flinch did not help in the tense aura surrounding the base.

Once he locked her doors, he walked down the dimly lit hall and passed by Overhaul’s office. The faint sound of him typing away in his laptop made him stop in his tracks. It was rare for him to even look at his laptop. Something must be bothering him more than ever, for sure.

Knocking on the door, he was told to come in and entered silently.

“You’re on the laptop.” He commented and lazily flopped on the sofa. Taking his mask off, he rubbed his face and leaned on the back rest.

“I can see that.” Overhaul’s eyes remained glued to the screen. “Is there something you need?”

“D’you talk to her yet?” He yawned and stretched his limbs. Legs ready to bounce should his boss show any sign of rage.

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“Just askin’.” He shrugged his shoulders and fiddled with his fingers. “Eri-chan’s in her room now and the toy still didn’t lighten her mood. Not that it ever works.”

He merely hummed and continued typing.

“Mind if I ask what exactly happened?” Kurono sat up with perfect posture. His legs angled to the door, ready to make a run for it. The tension was too much. Even for the precepts. He could care less about the budding lovelife his boss had but the limit was drawing near.  Hearing the laptop slam close, Kurono stood up and inched his way to the door.

“You have absolutely no business learning what happened behind those closed doors. But, if it pleases your curiosity, the woman mentioned her time with Ackerman.” Overhaul impatiently tapped his index finger on the desk. The other hand massaging his temple. “Satisfied?”

“What else did she say?”

“She said that her emotions aren’t there for the bastard and that she has her eyes set on someone else.”

For someone who played shogi skillfully, Kurono had to admit that his friend was as clueless as  the word could imply. Using all of his strength not to twitch his eye at the ignorance being displayed, he let out a sigh and went back to the sofa.

“So why be pissed about it? Clearly she’s interested in you.”

“I am not pissed. I am merely agitated at the turn of events.” He stopped tapping his finger and stood up. Exiting himself out, he decided a long bath might cool his head.

“You do realize she only did that to rile you up. You’re losing to her game, Kai. I bet a shit ton of cash that she wanted to see if a reaction would suffice and looking at you now, she got exactly what she wished.” Kurono talked the fastest he’s ever attempted in his life. “I’ll also bet my money that you ignoring her only adds to her growing problems.”

“And what makes you say that, Kurono?” He was now facing the arrow-haired man. Fists clenched tightly.

“One of the men saw her entering Nighteye’s agency.”

“THAT Nighteye?” He cocked a brow and took a step closer to the sofa.

“Yes. Her car remained parked for quite some time. By the time she left, I was told she was speeding towards the precinct.”

Gathering his thoughts, Chisaki found himself seated across Kurono. His bird mask resting on the table between them. The surgical mask now on full display showing the shadows his face offered. Without realizing it, his brows were furrowed and teeth gritting.

“If it’s bothering you, why not just call her or send a message.” Kurono shrugged.

“If she has been spotted entering the agency, chances are she’s been part of the heroes schemes all this time.” He was nodding to himself. “And she had the audacity to act like she was part of nothing. Smart move for her but not careful enough.”

Squinting at the train of thought he had just heard, Kurono rested his elbows on his thighs.

“So, you think she’s teaming up with the heroes?”

“She is.” He leaned on the back rest.

“She told you?”

“Not outright.”

“What gave her away then?”

“The night I left, she mentioned how the heroes don’t have a clear map of the base and only an outline. That was either a slip or intentional. From the turn of events, it may have been accidental.” The memory of that night, having his body so close to yours made him fiddle with the hem of his gloves. The scene of having your flushed face so near to his made him smirk under the black mask. Glancing at the calendar, though there was no need, it had been three days since the both of you contacted each other.

“Do you think we’ve been bugged?” Kurono asked. His eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other.

“No.” Crossing his arm against his chest, he let out a long sigh. “Not yet, at least. But knowing them, it’s bound to happen and they will use (y/n) for that.”

“What do you intend on doing?”

“Buy me a new sim tomorrow, Kurono. It’s best if communication is cut. The Quirk erasing bullets are nearing its completion. Any upcoming hindrances would disrupt the plan.” Taking his phone out, he checked for any messages. Seeing as there were none, he turned it off and threw the sim card across the table. The small plastic landing inches away from the edge.

“You’re not going to overhaul it?” This was something he was not expecting.

“No. Burn it.”

“You’re…” He took the sim into his hand. “You’re really serious about this.”

"Those rats are on the move. The chances of her bugging our base is high. Knowing she's not the type to refuse, it is best to cancel out any communication." Picking up his mask, he let out a silent sigh and wore the said item. "No need to fret, Kurono. I've already prepared the necessary actions."

"Knowing you, there's no need to fret." He too took his mask and wore it as well. Fixing his hood, he stared at his friend. "What about the Fukuo Kai case?"

"That is in two months. The hype would have died down." Standing up, he fixed his coat and motioned Kurono to follow him out. "Besides. If (y/n) really has an interest in me, she would know the perils of harboring emotions. Let's go. I'm famished."

"Pardon?" Kurono stopped walking and stared at the back of his boss.

"Even the strongest villains need nourishment."

"Oh, uh, sure." Not sure what to do next, he rubbed the hems of hood. "Shall I ready the car?"

Seeing the nod, he blinked himself back to reality and went separate ways. Walking towards the garage, the blue-haired man replayed the events. He wasn't too sure but he could feel how your mannerisms were slowly rubbing off of Kai. Not that he minded, it was just… weird.

Taking the sim from his pocket, Kurono weighed out the options of burning or keeping the small object. Kai or even Overhaul wasn't too fond of keeping mementos, but his sense of gratitude was always strong. His ways of repaying debts were always admirable, no matter how absurd his methods may be.

Once he was now seated in the car, he knew exactly what to do with it.

The following day, Tsukauchi took his seat beside you. A brown paper bag now resting on your desk. After the heart to heart talk inside your car, you are more than glad that nothing has changed. He still treated you as his partner, as well as his close friend.

"Here are some updates for the Fukuo Kai." Reaching out for a folder, Tsukauchi pulled it with his fingertips till he finally grasped it. "We have detected some movements in their western branch. Me and the 4th division will be checking them out 3 days from now. Care to join?"

Checking your schedule, it was vacant and you agreed.

"So what're your plans now?" He asks while grabbing a small chip from your meal. "Nighteye?"

"Yeah. They’ll be discussing who’s who within the eight precepts.” Despite trying your best, you couldn’t help the slight slumping of your shoulders. Slowly nodding at the words that left your mouth, you chuckled and shook your head.

“Are you debating whether or not to tell him you're a part of the scheme?”

“I can’t but I feel like he’s caught up. I tried to call him last night. Yes, I know it’s cheap of me. But, his number was unavailable so…”

“He probably was off doing villainous deeds.” Tsukauchi patted your head and dragged his seat back to his cubicle. “He’d be a real jerk if he won’t contact you within the next few days. Trust me. Not even bad guys can resist the temptation of women.”

“You’re making me sound like a prostitute, Nao~” You commented while checking your emails. For now, nothing caught your eye. The occasional spam emails were present and one from Hawks but you could save that for later. Any more birdmen was not in your priority.

A few minutes passed and you were now engrossed in typing reports. When the lights of your company telephone lit up, your eyes darted to Namase’s door. It had been a long time since the both of you conversed, or let alone saw each other. The fact that he was calling you only meant bad news. Recalling every case you left unsolved, you were quite confident that this was nothing worth worrying about.

Picking up the phone, you braced yourself.

“Namase?”

“Bet you’re wondering why I called you, right?” Right. You forgot. This man held no filter whatsoever. “Well no need to worry. I just had to inform you that we received an anon caller. Do you wanna put him on the line?”

“An Anon caller? For what case?” You grabbed a pen and paper.

“For the Arson case.”

“Can you put him on the line?”

“Sure~”

Namase put the Anon caller thru and you waited till you were sure he wasn’t eavesdropping.

“Hello?” Even if you weren’t sure whether or not you should receive this call.

“Is this (l/n)-san?” His voice was low but clear enough for you to hear. “I think I have some good information about the fires.”

“I’d love to hear it but I had to hand over the case to the HPSC not too long ago. I can give you their hotline number if you want.”

“They scare me. I would prefer it if it was you who passed the message to them. Are you free later at 4pm?”

“Let me just check my schedule.” You knew you were free but you felt the need to look up the person. “Can I have your name, if that’s alright?”

“Tetsu.”

“Okay, Tetsu-san. Where do you want to meet up? Is a cafe alright? Or do you want a private room in the precinct?”

“A cafe please.”

“Alright, We can meet by the Nooks and Books. ’ll be the one wearing black. I’ll see you later.”

With no greetings, the line ended and you put the phone down. Gathering your stuff, you began to skim through each article you recently read about fires. Granted it had been a while since you last heard any news about fires, the tip was or could be useful. Of course having to talk to the HPSC was something you were not looking forward to.

“Nao, I’ll be taking my leave now. Anything you want me to bring when I come back?” You peaked into his rather messy cubicle. “Geez. Calm down with your cases, buddy.”

“This is only for the meantime.” He scratched his neck and stared at the scattered papers and folders. “I’d like a creampuff, though. A creampuff sounds nice in these trying times.”

“Aight. I’ll bring you a box later.” You said as you exited the floor.

It only took a few minutes but you were now seated in another desk. One where you wished you were not a part of. Greeting the heroes who had just entered the meeting room, you smiled at the sight of Deku and Mirio.

“(l/n)-san! Long time no see!” Deku greeted you and took the vacant seat beside you. “How’s work?”

“Work is work. How’s school? Are you holding up? Must be difficult to juggle this raid and academics.”

“It is but we have supplementary classes so I can manage.”

“Your classmates with Uraraka, Asui, and Kirishima, right?”

“Yeah!”

Exchanging a few more small talk with the heroes, you locked eyes with the hero sitting beside you. The scruffy hair, eyes that looked like they haven’t slept a single second, and the trademark scarf resting on his shoulders. Giving a shy smile, Aizawa merely responded with a lazy nod before Nighteye finally entered the room.

“As you all know, today’s agenda will be task distribution. Let’s get on with the details now, shall we?”

The tasks were distributed rather well. Fatgum Agency would be accompanying the front of the team. Right alongside Nighteye and Aizawa. The other heroes were tasked to stay outside and guard the entrance for any possible nuances that might occur. The police staff were divided into two groups. Being given ample time to assign which officers would be in the outer and inner group, you merely nodded and took the list of names.

‘Great. More work.’ Flipping the pages, most officers were people you had worked with before. At least things wouldn’t be so difficult.

“(l/n)-san?” Nighteye snapped your thoughts away. Adjusting his glasses, he rested his elbows on the desk and leaned in. “How’s the task of bugging Overhaul?”

“I haven’t been in touch with any of them for a few days now. I will be trying this week if the situation allows.”

“Alright. If that succeeds then things will go much smoother and will surely pick up speed. Best of luck. Any questions?”

“Are there any updates about the League of Villains being tied with them?” Deku asked.

“As of the moment, there’s no movement from them. So, it’s safe to assume that they only have minor participation in said event.” Nighteye replied without batting an eyelash. He really was confident in this raid.

Feeling guilt rushing through your veins, you shifted in your seat and silently exhaled. Once Nighteye gave the adjournment, you scurried out of the room and made your way to the cafe. It was a bit traffic but you would still be able to arrive on time. With the cafe being near the station, parking would be no trouble.

When things were now settled, you were now walking towards the cafe and found yourself now standing in front of the cashier and saying your order. Taking your number, you looked for a private booth and sat there. It rested in the corner so Tetsu wouldn’t be too uncomfy.

When the clock struck 4, you were now staring at the lobby waiting for that Tetsu to arrive.

Sure enough, a man with a hood entered the cafe and made eye contact with you. Seeing as he walked towards your booth, it was safe to assume that this was Tetsu.

“Are you Tetsu?” You asked the man wearing the hood. With the sunglasses and mask, you could only make out such little skin his face had.

“I cannot stay long. But I came to hand this over.” He slid a small brown envelope. His head hanging low making sure you wouldn’t catch a glimpse at his covered face. “I hope this can assist your case.”

“To be fair, please stay while I go through the contents of this envelope.” Taking the envelope, you slid the content out only to have a sim card laying flat on your palm. “What kind of information does this hold, Tetsu-san?”

“That information is sensitive so you can check its contents before handing it over.”

“But, I’m not part of the Arson case anymore. Would you still want me to hand this in or redact a few messages.”

Overhaul did not mention you were no longer part of the case. Cursing at how blank his mind was, Kurono glanced at the environment before he exhaled deeply.

“I will only say this once, so listen carefully.” He uttered.

“This isn’t about the Arson case now, is it?” Sliding the sim card back, you carefully placed it inside your bag and focused on Tetsu. The words that came out of his mouth made your heart beat faster. Clenching your fists, you braced for whatever he would say next.

“Kai has been on edge and it’s been such a pain in the ass. I don’t know what the hell made you decide to mention Ackerwacker but you got what you wished for.” Kurono’s voice was low. Barely audible due to the cafe’s music. “But, it would be a lie if I said he hasn’t been more human ever since he met you.”

“Can you take your mask and shades off?”

“You’ll probably just arrest me right here.” Kurono took his shades off revealing familiar gray eyes.

“You were that guy from the restaurant?” Your eyes widened at the realization that Overhaul had interfered that early on. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but ya’ll did me a great favor.”

A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he took the mask off. It felt different having his face exposed after a long time.

“I can see why he took interest in you.”

“Why meet me, though? Wouldn’t this only risk in you being overhauled and shit?”

“I have my ways. Kai instructed me to get rid of his sim card but I don’t know. Perhaps you can make use of it in your private life.”

“Well, to be honest, the heroes don’t fully trust me.” You shrugged. That was nothing new. “It sucks having to juggle work and personal feelings in this particular case. Guess both of us are in a pinch.”

“Perks of being with Kai.”

“You should probably get going… Chronostasis, right?” Putting his disguise back on, a switch flipped in your mind. “Hey you mind if I get your number? If you have one, ofcourse.”

“Why?”

“I like to make my connections.” You winked. When he took out his phone, you in turn took something out of your pocket. Placing it on the table, you pushed the small box towards the villain. “I’ll text you the instructions later, aight?”

“What’s this?”

“You’ll know when you open it.”

With that, Kurono pocketed the small box and left the cafe. When he was out of sight, you rubbed your face and groaned.

“Damn it.”

- - - - -

a/n: hohoho Kurono now enters the picture! hope ya’ll enjoyed this chapter! :) Mimick is still writing down Overhaul’s waiting list! if you guys have any questions or just wanna be tagged :) feel free to spam me! take care!

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki kai x reader #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #chisaki kai #bnha chisaki #chisaki x reader