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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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sugar sugar - the planning 3.0

Summary: Someone the engaged couple both didn’t expect, is coming back into their lives

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Light mentions of an argument. Mentions of hospital, cock warming (it’s becoming their thing now) and some rough sex (spanking, anal play, vibrators - the whole deal)

Wordcount: 4.9k

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

March 1st 7 p.m.

Work has been killing Henry lately. He grows more and more tired and to my own surprise, he is even in a bad mood every now and then, a rarity when it comes to Henry. He hates talking about what is bothering him and I hate having to pry.

But it has been enough. I don’t like the fact he continues to lock himself in his office at work and I decide to surprise him. He always likes surprises, especially these ones I arranged myself.

I barge into his office and I see… He is actually taking a nap? That’s new. He only takes naps at home, with his hands slipped underneath my shirt, his head resting on my chest. His eyes flutter open, ready to scold anyone who came in, until he realizes it’s just me. ‘Thought I locked the elevator,’ he says, ‘made it unavailable.’

‘I have a surprise for you,’ I say, as I walk up to him and ignoring the fact that he might’ve made it unavailable for me as well to come up here. He probably didn’t mean it like that.

‘Okay, what is it?’

I hop on an empty corner of his desk. ‘I made reservations for us at the Plaza and afterwards, you and I can do all sorts of things in all sorts of compromising positions, if you know what I mean.’

Henry frowns, the complete opposite reaction I was expecting. ‘I can’t, baby.’

‘Why not?’ I ask him. ‘I checked your schedule and it’s all free. You have time and you should take time. You’ve been working really hard.’

‘I know, but I can’t. I have too much to do here.’

I don’t understand. He has been working non stop this week and he still doesn’t have time? He always makes time for me, for us. ‘It’s just one night, Henry,’ I try again.

‘I already told you that I can’t.’

Oh, he is in a mood? Never did he sound so… Flat and borderline annoyed when he is talking to me.

‘Oh,’ I say, not really sure how to handle this type of disappointment. ‘Sure?’

‘Damn it, Becky. Yes, I’m sure. I have tons of work to do and I cannot afford to take a break now! Some people actually have tons of work to do.’

Okay, he is mad at me now, something I totally didn’t deserve. I think I didn’t deserve it, I’m not even sure right now. Maybe this was too much? Yeah, it was too much. I shouldn’t have done that. ‘Well, excuse me for trying to do something nice for you,’ I say, sliding off his desk. ‘Good luck with work.’

‘Are you mad?’ he asks me.

He has some guts. Yes, I’m mad. ‘No, why on earth would I be?’ I ask in a petty tone, as I walk backwards towards the elevator. ‘Bye Henry, hope you finish your work.’

‘Baby, wait,’ he says, but I don’t listen. With large strides I near the elevator and get in, not even looking at him anymore. As the doors slide shut, I grab my phone and send both Genevieve and Viola a text.

Becky: You girls want to spend the evening at the Plaza?

Genevieve: Is that even a question?

Viola: When?

Becky: Thirty minutes?

Genevieve: I’ll be there in ten.

✤ ✤ ✤

Genevieve, Viola and I are sitting in the Plaza, the three of us looking over the city, as we enjoy the view. Well, they are enjoying the view. I keep on thinking about Henry. He never snaps at me like that, just like he never calls me by my name. It’s always sweetheart, darling or my favorite: baby girl. For him to call me ‘Becky’ means I did something wrong, right? Was I out of line? Should I have checked with him? I mean, surprises are meant to surprise, so I shouldn’t have told him, right?

My brain is working overtime, unable to actually enjoy hanging out with my friends.

‘Earth to Becky,’ Viola says, nudging my side. I look up from my wine glass. ‘Honey, you’re still thinking about you and Henry? It’s just a little set back, nothing too bad.’

‘Oh my,’ Genevieve says, ‘are you that disgusting type of couple that never fight? I fight with Greg all the time.’

‘We know,’ Viola butts in. ‘Come on, Gen, you know that Becky doesn’t do well with fighting. Besides, Henry is the type of man that is above pointless fights with his fiancée. Becky, what can we do for you?’

‘I don’t know. Cancel the wedding?’

Genevieve chokes on her drink. ‘For heaven’s sake, Becky, please tell me that is a joke. I swear, if you are going to cancel, I will kill you.’

I glare at her. ‘It may have been a poorly misplaced joke and a total overreaction from my side. Sorry.’

She takes a breath out of utter belief. ‘Don’t do that. I can take jokes about a lot of things, but not our wedding day.’

‘My wedding day, Gen. I’m the one getting married.’

She snorts. ‘Okay,’ she chuckles, rolling her eyes as if she cannot possibly believe that I just called it my wedding, instead of ours. ‘Anyways, I actually got a call from the bridal shop. The bridesmaids dresses are gonna be done at the end of the month, so make sure you can join us for the final fitting.’ Genevieve lets out a squeal. ‘Ah, I’m so excited. You know what comes after the wedding?’

‘Honeymoon?’ Viola and I ask.

‘Yes, that too, but also kids. I think that we should get at least once get pregnant together, because that is such a cute friendship thing for us to do.’

I don’t know if I can handle being pregnant and dealing with Gen’s hormonal mood swings, but I keep those words to myself.

‘Since our little baby factory is probably gonna have a few, Viola and I will have time enough to get it right.’

‘Do you have to call me a baby factory?’ I ask Genevieve. ‘I say once that a large family is okay for me and all of the sudden I’m a baby factory.’

‘I mean, you’re having at least two and with the way you guys are at it, there is a chance his little soldiers will find their way multiple times. One way or another.’

‘Stop talking,’ I say to Genevieve, as blood rises to my cheeks.

Viola tries to contain her laughter, but fails miserably. ‘Are you finally gonna tell her?’

Now I’m confused. ‘Tell me what?’

‘A few months back I kinda walked in on the two of you.’

Genevieve could’ve literally told me that she was gonna be president of name a country and I wouldn’t be as surprised as I am now. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, you left your keys at my place, so I figured I would bring them to you. However when I walked in, I was met with loud moans and skin slapping.’

Oh, no, I want to die.

‘It was really hilarious,’ she continues, ‘because you were on the back rest of the couch and let’s just say that you have a respectable boob size, you two kiss hella sloppy and Henry’s ass naked is delicious.’

I look at my glass of wine and gulp it all down, hoping that drinking my embarrassment and humiliation away would make the situation less awful.

It’s not working.

‘I kinda wished you never told me this,’ I mumble.

Viola finally bursts out into the loud laughter I was expecting from her a few moments ago. ‘This is gold, I wished I had this reaction on video.’

Genevieve chuckles. ‘So yeah, when I say you two are at it like bunnies, I’m not lying.’

✤ ✤ ✤

When I arrive back at the apartment, I almost forgot about the little situation Henry and I got ourselves in. Genevieve and Viola always know the exact things to tell me that makes me forget about a lot. Seeing Henry sitting on the couch, clearly beating himself up, almost makes me feel sorry for him, however I decide to be a petty bitch.

He really did hurt my feelings.

I walk straight to the kitchen and despite me hearing him follow me, I disregard my instinct and don’t turn towards him.

‘Becky,’ he says, his tone soft and slightly unsure. Him calling out my name in a tone like this, is an indication he is aware of the thin ice he is skating on.

‘Mhm?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What for? You were busy and I was intruding.’ I let the tea bag soak for a few moments. ‘You know, Genevieve, Viola and I had a great time together,’ I continue. ‘I arranged amazing seats at the Plaza. It had a view over the Hudson and we saw a lot of fairies.’ I know those are his favorite spots and he always tells me that one day he’ll take me on a fairy. ‘Never been on a fairy before.’ That’s a jab I knew would hurt the most. Damn, I’m awful. With the mug in my hand, I turn around, to see that Henry is looking slightly uncomfortable. ‘How was work? Did you finish it?’

He shakes his head.

Don’t say it, Becky. ‘Oh, why not?’ Damn it, Becky.

‘You serious?’ he asks. ‘We had an argument.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly, Henry. It wasn’t an argument. You were working and I had some poor planning. A small misunderstanding. Happens to all the couples some day.’

He sighs. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you in that tone,’ he says. ‘You were right, I could’ve needed a break. Work has been killing these last few weeks and I… I keep convincing myself I can do it all…’ He leans against the kitchen island and folds his arms. ‘Truth is, we lost some investors and I’ve been trying to rectify the situation. It’s just that it’s not working.’

Oh, I didn’t know that. Now I feel sorry for being so bitchy to him. ‘I see,’ I mumble. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I didn’t want you to worry,’ he says.

‘You understand that I can read you like a book, right?’ I ask him. ‘Henry, I’m gonna be your wife, I know when something is bothering you.’

‘I know and to take it out on you, wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.’

I nod, placing the mug on the counter. ‘I’m sorry too.’

‘Sorry for what?’

‘For being petty and inconsiderate of your time. I shouldn’t have just surprised you like that. I know you’re busy.’

‘But never too busy for you. You did everything right. Checked my schedules, arranged it at a time where I barely have anything to do. It was the perfect surprise. Having dinner with you at the Plaza is one of my favorite places to have dinner with you. Staring at those fairies is what we do.’ He carefully approaches, still unsure whether or not we’re on the same page. ‘You have nothing to apologize for. The only one who was at fault was me.’

I grab him by his tie and pull him in a hug, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He nuzzles his face in my neck, whispering soft apologies.

‘It’s all good,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry for being petty.’

‘No, no, no, don’t be. I deserved that one. Especially after the tone I used on you.’ He pulls back a little and presses a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. ‘How about I take you to dinner tomorrow night?’

‘Sounds good. But you have to call this time,’ I say.

Henry raises his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You made the reservations yourself?’

I nod. ‘Hence the reason I might got a little bit extra defensive.’

He smiles at me, before giving me a kiss. ‘I’m so proud of you, baby. Practice makes perfect.’

‘I know,’ I say with a soft smile on my lips. ‘We’re good again?’

‘More than good,’ he chuckles. He lifts me on the counter and stands in between my legs. ‘How was it with Genevieve and Viola?’

‘Good,’ I say, ‘just discovered that Genevieve once walked in on us having sex.’

His eyes enlarge. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really,’ I say. ‘She told me I have a respectable boob size, we kiss sloppy and that your naked ass looks really good.’

He lets out a nervous chuckle. ‘Your boobs are perfect,’ he says and I slap him across his chest. ‘You know I can never look at her again?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I laugh. ‘It’s nothing. She’ll just pester us with it for a while and then she finds something else to humiliate me with. Really, it’s no big deal.’

March 20th 2 p.m.

I place the groceries in the fridge, after I got back home. I actually want to plan cooking Henry some dinner so I bought all the ingredients I think I need. He always does so much for me, so it’s only fair that I’m doing it too every once in a while.

Let’s just hope I don’t fail miserably.

My phone starts to ring and I quickly pick up. ‘Hello.’

‘Good afternoon, is this Becky Kim?’ a female voice asks.

I frown. ‘Yes, this is her. Is everything alright?’

‘My name is Alicia, a nurse at NewYork-Presbyterian. I’m calling in regards of Sehun Kim.’

Dad? That Sehun Kim? Too say I’m absolutely flabbergasted is an understatement. ‘Excuse me if I come off extremely rude, but I’m sure I’m not registered as his next of kin. Isn’t there someone else to call?’

‘Well miss Kim, you are his next of kin. Your father had a ruptured appendix. Thankfully he got to the hospital in time, but his health is severely declined. We are keeping him here for a few days, to see if everything is alright.’

I lean against the sink, thinking about my next move. ‘Is there anyone with him right now?’ I ask.

‘No, miss.’

I sigh deeply. What to do, what to do? ‘I’ll be there shortly.’ When I hang up the phone, I arrange the chauffeur to drive me to the hospital and I grab some stuff I need. As I step into the elevator, I text Henry to tell him what’s going on.

Becky: My dad is in the hospital, I’m going there right now

Daddy 🥰: Darling, are you okay? Do you need anything?

Becky: I’m taking the driver. Just be there when I get home?

Daddy 🥰: Of course, baby girl. Just tell me when you need something, okay?

Becky: Will do

✤ ✤ ✤

I have been looking at my father for a few minutes now from behind the glass. He looks a lot older than I remember him. I wonder why I’m next of kin and not my mom or my siblings. I mean, he hasn’t seen me in so long, I literally told my family I never wanted to see them anymore and that included him.

With my arms crossed in front of my chest, I hesitate whether or not I’m gonna open that door and walk into his room.

I mean, I kinda want to.

I always felt like my father and I were pretty much the same, however he never showed me how much he loved me. It always seemed easier to love my siblings than me, but maybe there were certain things that held him back.

I never asked him and now I finally have a chance.

Finally I mustered up the confidence to just do it. I open the door and walk in. He is awake and looks at me, but like usual he isn’t saying anything. It could be hurtful, but it doesn’t feel like that. I walk towards the side of the bed. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask him.

Still he is unable to talk, but I see it. I see his eyes filling with tears and for the first time in forever, I see the hurt he probably had to endure all this time.

‘Dad, please say something to me.’

‘I’m sorry, Becky,’ he then says, his voice breaking in the process. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘For not standing up to you. For not being the dad you deserved, you needed.’ He rubs his eyes with his fingers and adds: ‘What kind of father allows this type of crap?’

I honestly don’t know, so all I can do is simply shrug. ‘I’m guessing mom wasn’t too kind on you either.’

He shakes his head. ‘She wasn’t.’

‘Then why didn’t you divorce her?’ I ask, in a harsher tone then I originally intended to. ‘Took me with you? We could’ve been happy, dad, just the two of us.’

‘I know, I know.’

‘Then why didn’t you do it? Why didn’t you stand up for me?’

‘Because I was scared.’ It must be so painful for him to admit it, but I rather want him being honest with me, then him dancing around the subject. He was scared and I can’t blame him for it. Mom was (and I presume still is) pretty scary and if she was mean to me, I don’t think I can even fathom what happened between her and dad.

‘But why am I next of kin?’ I ask. ‘You have Liam and Celine.’

‘They are not you,’ he says and that hits something deep in my heart. ‘I was too scared to call you and tell you how sorry I am, so I changed you to my next of kin a few months back. I know, it was weak and I’m a coward, but it was the only way I felt like I could do ever talk to you again.’

It happens before I can even stop it. I place my hand on his and at first, dad doesn’t move, but then he holds my hand tightly in his.

‘I’m sorry, Becky. I’m so sorry.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I know.’

‘I can’t imagine what you went through. I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve protected you.’

I don’t know what to say, so I simply grab a chair and drag it next to his bed, before taking place on it. ‘Then tell me everything you went through,’ I whisper, ‘maybe we can understand each other.’

✤ ✤ ✤

The afternoon turned into the night and it’s already seven p.m. when I arrive back the penthouse. It was both draining and very insightful. Everything I went through, my dad went through as well, for being a more shy personality, more serious and less out there. While I knew he would draw the short end of the stick when we were all together, he got it real bad when he was alone with my mom. The thing was: it didn’t stop when I moved out, when I told them I never wanted to see them again.

It only got worse.

Somehow me ending up in juvie, was his fault.

I close the door of the apartment and Henry says: ‘There you are. Baby girl, how are you?’

‘I’m okay,’ I say, though that is not quite the truth. ‘It went well.’

Henry stands up and walks over to me. ‘Glad to hear.’ He gives me a kiss, as his hands find mine. ‘Your dad is gonna be okay?’

‘Yeah, he just has to stay to see if all goes well tonight.’ I let out a deep sigh. ‘I missed him.’

He nods, allowing me to find the words to describe how I’m feeling.

‘We talked for a long while,’ I continue. ‘But I’m going back tomorrow, because I feel like we have a lot to catch up on. Wanna join me?’

‘If you want me to, I’ll happily go, you know that.’

I don’t want to cry, I think I did that enough the last few hours, however a few tears escape. ‘Daddy, can you hold me?’

He doesn’t waste a single second, before he hoists me up in his arms, holding me closely to his body. ‘I’m right here, sweetheart.’

I close my eyes, as I cling onto him. I start to sniffle, but it’s enough for Henry to be alerted.

‘Baby girl. What is it? What do you need?’

‘A hug.’

He pulls back a little and cocks an eyebrow. ‘That kind of hug?’

I nod. ‘Please?’

‘Of course.’ He carries me to the sauna, where he undoes me from my clothing and quickly shreds himself from his. We step into the hot sauna and I sit on his lap, before he starts the preparations. His hands massage my entire body, as I place my forehead against his. ‘I love you,’ he whispers against my lips.

‘I love you too.’

‘You did well today.’ He squeezes my breasts in his large hands, flicking my nipples and it’s already doing its magic trick in between my legs. ‘I’m proud of you, because it mustn’t be easy.’ He gives me a kiss, before he brings his lips to my hardened nipple, wrapping them around the sensitive nub.

I kiss him on his hairline. ‘You are?’

‘Oh baby, you have no idea.’

I reach down, grabbing his semi hard cock and rub his tip against my clit. I whimper, causing Henry to look up. He kisses me, soft and slow. ‘When you’re ready,’ he says.

I line him up near my throbbing entrance and I sink onto him, biting away the slight pain as I stretch around him. Henry rubs my clit and the pain quickly subdues. He leans back against the wall, pulling me onto his chest, his fingers drawing soft circles on my back.

I don’t know how long we are in this position, but when I open my eyes again, I feel pretty drowsy, almost like I fell asleep.

Henry is already awake, still holding me close against him, not caring that we’re both drenched in sweat. ‘Hi, baby girl,’ he whispers.

‘Hi.’

‘You were gone for quite a while. We’ve been here for an hour, or so.’

I smile. ‘I feel better, thank you.’

‘That’s good, that’s good.’ He gives me a kiss and says: ‘You look better.’

‘Daddy,’ I whisper, ‘I love you.’

‘Oh, I love you too.’

I rock my hips on his and he hums in content. ‘Fuck me,’ I beg. ‘Please do. I need it.’

‘How do you need it?’ he asks. ‘Rough? Soft? I’ll give it to you, baby girl. Just tell me what you need.’

I bite my lip. ‘I need it rough, daddy. Please, I need it rough.’

✤ ✤ ✤

When I ask for rough, I’ll get it even rougher. Henry used his tie to restrain my hands above my head, so he has his hands free to press the vibrator against my clit while he pounds himself inside of me. He is ruthless, but that is exactly what I need.

My mind is blank, as the only things I feel is being overpowered, loved and taken care of. I don’t know how many times I already came, but my sobs are quite telling.

‘You gonna cum again, baby?’

I nod, before my eyes roll back and my juices squirt passed him. Telling from his grunts, he is close as well.

‘Shit, baby girl, you feel so fucking good around me.’ He throws the vibrator to the side, tightening his grip on my hips, as I ride out my high. I’m a crying mess, tears dripping over my cheeks and that’s about the same time his hips stutter against mine, his warm seed spilled deep inside of me. He unties my hands, before giving me a sloppy kiss. ‘You okay?’ he asks, still buried inside of me.

‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’

‘You feel better?’

I smile. ‘I do, thank you, daddy. I needed that.’

He gives me a kiss on my lips and wipes away the tears. ‘You want to talk about it or not?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just glad you helped me out here.’ I place my hands on his chest. ‘Could need a shower, though.’

‘I know,’ he chuckles. ‘How about you take a shower, I’ll clean up in here and then join you?’

‘Sounds good to me,’ I whisper. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, baby girl.’

March 21st 11 a.m.

The next day I’m back at the hospital, only this time I took Henry with me. He holds my hand in his and gives me a reassuring kiss on my fingers. ‘You want me in there with you two immediately?’ he asks me.

I don’t need to think about that for very long, because I quickly nod. ‘Of course. I actually quite need you in there.’

We stop in front of his door and I take a deep breath before knocking three times and peaking around the corner. ‘Dad,’ I say, causing him to look up from his book, ‘I’m back and brought someone.’

Henry and I step into the room and my dad nods, taking in Henry. ‘Your fiancé,’ dad says, closing his book. Yesterday I told him a lot about Henry already, especially because my dad read my interview and actually figured out how to check my Instagram. It was his own way to keep track of me and for some odd reason, I’m glad he did. He holds out his hand and Henry is quick to take it. ‘I’m Sehun, nice to meet you.’

‘My name is Henry, sir. It’s great to meet you too.’ He pulls two chairs next to dad’s bed and we both take a seat.

I take his hand into mine and say: ‘Dad, how are you feeling?’

‘Better, better.’ Dad stares at Henry and says: ‘It doesn’t take a genius to see how happy you are with each other.’

I smile, my other hand blindly searching Henry’s.

‘I also don’t need to tell you, but you need to take good care of her.’

Henry nods. ‘Don’t you worry, sir, I take good care of her.’

My dad looks up at the ceiling, tears in his eyes.

‘Dad, please,’ I say, ‘it’s all okay. We spoke about this yesterday: I don’t blame you. Not at all, not in the slightest.’

He has never been the talkative type, I know that. It pains me to see how crushed he is, how much he is beating himself up. I understand that he feels like that, however I am not mad. After yesterday’s talk I understood and realized I never wanted to be mad at him at all.

‘I don’t know if you can make it and if you even want to, but you—and you alone—can come to the wedding if you want. It’s a little short notice, I know, but Henry and I would love it if you were there.’

Dad simply nods. ‘I would love that too,’ he says in a hoarse tone. ‘Just… You have to help me with something first.’

‘And what is that?’

‘Help me arrange a divorce.’

Don’t overreact, Becky. The rush of utter euphoria fills my body. He wants to divorce my mom? After all those years? Is there an opportunity I could still have that relationship with my dad I have always secretly wanted and wished for.

I look over my shoulder to Henry, who seems to read my eyes. ‘I can arrange something with my lawyer,’ Henry says, squeezing my fingers. ‘You know what, I’ll call him right now. Maybe we can arrange something very soon.’

Henry leaves the room, holding his phone in his hand and my dad nods. ‘You have a nice fiancé,’ he says. ‘Takes good care of you.’

I smile. ‘Yeah, he does. He is the love of my life.’

Dad tilts his head. ‘You sure you want me there?’

‘Yes, I’d love to. We have an entire month to get to know each other and that of course won’t change after the wedding. We could look for an apartment for you, make sure you can start a new life.’

‘It’s a father’s job to protect and take care of his kids, not the other way around.’ He sighs deeply and says: ‘I have never taken care of you. Protected you from those vile words spilled from your mom and siblings.’

‘But you will,’ I say. ‘Please, it’s all good. Know and accept that, okay? I want to work on our relationship and that can start with an apartment when you are released from this awful place.’

For the first time he widely smiles. ‘I’m a lucky man for having a daughter like you.’

Henry enters the room again and says: ‘Well, I spoke to my lawyer and he is ready to meet you in a few days. There is a possibility he can expedite the process.’

Dad nods again. ‘Thank you, Henry. Now please sit, so I can get to know you.’

✤ ✤ ✤

When Henry and I are back in the car after hours of getting to know my father, tears finally drip over my tears. ‘Baby girl,’ he says, ‘it’s okay. You did amazing.’

‘I just don’t know why I’m crying, especially because I’m happy. I’m happy with all of this, however it’s just that… I wish there was more I could do.’

‘You are doing all you can,’ he says. ‘And your dad knows that.’

I hide my face in my hands and I feel Henry’s hand in the back of my neck. He presses a kiss on the top of my head.

‘I love you, baby girl and we’ll get through this.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x becky kim #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #becky kim #asian ofc

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Falling Angels: chapter two

A/n took me longer to get around to writing part 2 than i thought!! i didn’t know there was an audience for this idea but im glad you guys liked it!!

Im adding a country to the grishaverse to make my story work,, def not a big deal i just needed a country in which i could control the history of without worrying about conflicting with cannon lol

Link to part one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yesimwriting/652318577650696192 (lmk if this works ive never linked something to a tumblr post lol)

Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story

Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life.

Pairng: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! Psychic! Reader

My father seemed to love me more after two glasses of something amber. It was after these two glasses that he would tell me realities his inebriated self believed I needed to internalize. He’d pat my head affectionately and smiled at me as he told me that the world was a bad place. Most of his lessons are lost in my mind, but the one I remember most clearly is that there’s no such thing as a kept secret. There’s always a leak or a flaw or a factor you could not account for. He told me that if I wanted to keep a secret, I would have to decide what I was willing to risk for it.

I know from Seria’s reaction to his presence that listening to Kaz is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take for my secret. “I don’t know what you think I am, but you’re mistaken.” It doesn’t really matter that he believes me. I have the paperwork I need to disprove him. “I have to get to my tent.”

“The princess gets her own tent?” His words are saturated by mock casualness but I can feel his pride on how he delivered that line.

My body is still tense from balancing over flames and his confidence only adds to my desire to unravel. I can’t get angry here. Not at him. Not with the way he grips that cane of his. “I don’t understand what--”

“You may be able to play pretend here where no one wants to look twice at you, but I know what you are.” His stiffness leaves my skin prickling. “I know who you are.”

I swallow back my panic. “Then who am I?”

“You’re that king’s bastard--the one with a high bounty on her head.” Don’t back down. Even the smallest crack will confirm his story. “As long as she’s returned alive.”

Thoughts of what my father would do to me if ever given the chance strike me with more anxiety than his presence does. “I’ve heard of the girl you’re talking about,” I admit, the lie leaving me as easily as the air leaves my lungs when I exhale. “But I’m not her.”

“You’re not from Ketterdam, if you were you would have known who I was after you friend referred to me as Dirtyhands.” I have no defense, but I never claimed to be from Ketterdam. “You make your business claiming to be a psychic.” I am a psychic, but now is not the time to make that argument. “Elkosa is a relatively small and self efficient port kingdom, the island is nothing more than a jagged coastline barely larger than Ketterdam, but I have connections in all places.” He knows someone from Elkosa? I have to fight the instinct to move all of my weight on the balls of my feet, prepared to run. “A captain of the royal fleet told me the story of the night the King’s bastard ran into the meeting room the night before ten ships were meant to sail to Ravka.”

He studies my reaction as I struggle to keep my expression blank. “None of that seems connected.”

“Patience is a virtue most Saints are familiar with.” I roll my eyes. “The bastard couldn’t have been more than nine at the time, but the guards did not want to let her in. The King told them to let her interrupt. The sailor noted this because he had never made an exception to his meeting before. The girl described a nightmare to her father, a nightmare of a storm and ten dead birds. The king did not comfort her, she finished her story by saying that he asked to know about all of her dreams. She went back upstairs and the King continued the meeting as normal but the next day the King cancelled the trip.”

I remember that night as the night I realized that if I’m not careful, I’ll feel what I see in my visions. It felt like I was drowning. I felt the death of each of those men and instead of comforting me, my father nodded once like I had offered him advice and sent me back to my room. “And?” My defense is weak, my mind too lost in the memories of drowning. “Many smaller countries are superstitious.”

“The next day the worst storm to have impacted that ocean occurred. For four nights and three days the storm continued.”

I press my nails into my palms. “You don’t believe that I am precognitive, so that sailor’s unverified story has nothing to do with me.”

“A princess that can see the future disappears at the same time a failing circus hires a girl who has no business in this city who claims to be able to see the future.” He adjusts his stance, taking pressure off the cane as if he’s preparing to need to use it for something else. “I am not fool enough to believe in coincidence.”

“And I am not fool enough to crack beneath the vague threats of a man. In my experience, men always threaten with a blade when really all they’re in possession of is a butter knife. Try to drag me from here kicking and screaming, find a way to incapacitate me and put me on a ship to Elkosa, but when the King sees that you brought him a stranger he will have your head.”

He blinks, expression hard as stone. I tense, preparing for a physical blow. “I didn’t expect you to be a half-decent liar, but I should have.” I bite my tongue to avoid resorting to something I can’t take back. Like begging. “Even if it’s in only half your blood.”

“I am not her.” My stubbornness burns more than the need to survive. I inhale, hoping to shake the grasp of the sensation but it only worsens. The pinch of dread in my chest is heavy and familiar. A vision.

No. Not now--not in front of him. I push against it even though I know that only makes it worse. Not now. Not now. I should be grounding myself but all I can think about is how stupid I am and how bad this situation is.

“I’m not an idiot, I know to be quiet. I see myself crouched somewhere dark.

“Being defensive doesn’t make you any more intelligent.” It takes me a minute to recognize Kaz in the darkness.

We’re somewhere small, our backs against the same wall but our shoulders do not touch. This vision is enshrouded by the feel of panic.

This other me grimaces, but her eyes lack anger, “Remind me why I agreed to help you again?”

“You never told me why,” he admits, “you can change your mind on participating and I can change my mind on whether or not you're more useful than your father’s money.”

Something loud crashes from behind the door we’re both staring at. “You’ll have no use for me or my father’s money if we die here.” I squeeze my hands together.

He hesitates, “My ghost will.”

The future-me almost smiles. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see ghost futures.” I hesitate, something strange behind my eyes. “I wonder if that can exist, if there’s a future beyond endings.”

Future-Kaz is silent for a long second. “There should be,” he says, “for someone like you, at least.”

I watch the way I take in his words. “You’d be there, too,” my voice is low, “your ghost at least.” I turn my head, staring at the door instead of him, “If you weren’t, I’d miss the brooding.”

The vision leaves me with sweaty palms and swirling thoughts. All of my visions do that. Not all of them make me feel so confused. Apparently, he needs help and I agree to do so. At one point we’ll be pushed into a life or death situation and I won’t loathe him.

I blink twice, forcing myself to hold onto the reality in front of me. I don’t have to agree--the future isn’t set in stone. For all I know tomorrow morning I’ll have a vision in which he kills me.

“Are you ignoring me?”

Shaking my head, I turn to face him. “You need help.” I don’t wait for his reaction. “You’re not here to return someone to the King of Elkosa, you’re here because you need someone that can see the future.”

“I--”

“It’s not that you won’t take me to Elkosa, it’s that you’d rather use my abilities for something.”

I’m confusing him again, but that’s okay. I’d rather deal with him confused than angry. “I need to know how a certain business deal of mine is going to be worth what it costs.”

He’s spent the entire time claiming he doesn’t believe in my power. Was that some kind of tactic? In the vision I saw, despite the panic surrounding the situation I didn’t feel panicked around him. The probability of that future occurring is probably low. I’ve been wrong before, the future changes too much for me to know everything.

“That’s not how readings work,” I admit, “I don’t have that much control on them. Most of them come to me randomly. The events I see always involve me or someone I care about to a certain capacity. I can give someone a general glimpse into their future but I can’t promise I’ll see what they want. Sometimes I can see the general vision by just focusing on their energy but usually I need some physical contact for it to work.” That seems like a fair explanation. “Oh--and not all of my predictions come true, most are blurry, few are solid--the future is always moving.”

Wait...the vision I saw where I was with Kaz wasn’t blurry. Those can be wrong, but it’s much rarer. Do I really agree to this?

“Then maybe I should make it involve you.” His aggression has me forcing myself to stand my ground. He can threaten me all he wants but that won’t change things. “Or take the money your father would give me and cut my losses.”

Every time I’ve purposefully destroyed a solid vision, something bad has happened. I’m genuinely considering it. “What do you need a psychic for, anyways?”

“To get through the Fold.”

Despite everything, I laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone get through the Fold, literally or in my visions.”

He’s unphased by my doubt. “It’s happened.”

I really don’t want to help him. “Well then good luck, I’m happy to part ways here.”

I manage one step forward before he moves his cane in front of my path. I’m getting tired of this. “You’re assisting me one way or the other, whether that aid will be financial or through your services is up to you.”

Anger pinches in my stomach the way it often does when I’m told what to do. The one thing centering me is the vision still reflecting in my thoughts. There’s no denying it--I had felt comfortable with him. There is a future in which I feel comfortable with him and I’m not sure I’ll be able to avoid it.

“I won’t get in trouble for you,” I tell him, “The Ringmaster holds onto those indentured to him, especially the commodities that bring him profit.”

There’s something stiff about his silence. I wonder if he’s always like this, pushing the weight of his presence onto those around him without saying a word. “When I have a goal, it is achieved. I’ll speak to him.”

I cannot imagine a conversation I want to be involved in less. The Ringmaster and this man that Seria had labeled ‘Dirtyhands’. “I just had a vision--I saw your entire conversation and it ends with you missing an arm.” His stoic expression does not shift. “Okay, I’m aware that it wasn’t the funniest joke, but throw me a bone--you threatened to kidnap me and sell me to my father in order to extort me and I’ve been nothing but polite to you.”

He’s quiet for a moment, something in his expression changing in a way I can’t read. “All you’ve done is lie since the moment you started to speak to me.”

The optimist in me would like to think that his annoyance counts for banter. I shrug, feeling a little lighter than I did a second ago. I’m certainly not comfortable but I’m starting to see how to put up with the tension without letting it strain me. “Well, polite for my standards.”

I let him brood. “You must have done well as a royal.”

My past cuts through the peace I managed to grab onto. It’s not his fault, he has no way of knowing what the castle was like for me. I open my mouth, but I don’t know what I’m going to say. “I had my moments,” I finally settle on, hoping the echo of pain isn’t visible behind my eyes.

I guess it doesn’t matter if he sees me bleed. He’s heartless, and I hate sympathy.

“Y/n,” Seria’s voice is genuine anger, “You’ve turned into an idiot--first the tightrope walk and now entertaining whatever deal he’s trying to coax from you.” I love Seria, she’s the reason I didn’t die in the street when I first arrived in Ketterdam, but she sees me as a mindless child. “Whatever he told you, whatever he promised you--it’s a lie.”

“He hasn’t promised me anything.” I need to calm her down. Once she’s calm, everything will be normal again. “And he knows.” I don’t have to turn to feel the way Seria gapes at me. “He knows who I am, so I have to do what he wants.”

“You never have to do anything a man is forcing onto you, y/n. We’ll find a way--”

“Seria, it’s fine,” I reach to touch her arm, “I’ll be fine, you can’t protect me from everything and you don’t have to.”

Kaz throws a pointed glare at the man who was with him earlier. When did the stranger get here? “Boss, she’s faster than she looked, but I have what we need to get the girl--”

“You’re late,” Kaz sighs, bored, “she’s agreed.”

Wait--what was he going to do if I didn’t agree? “Out of curiosity, what are you talking about?” The man blinks twice, squeezing a rag between his ring-clad fingers. “You were going to use chloroform to kidnap me, weren’t you?”

For some reason I don’t understand, the stranger gives me a look that’s a cross between sheepish and charming. “Nothing personal.”

“Or original.”

Seria pinches my arm. “Y/n,” she scolds, “your sense of humor is going to kill me one of these days.”

I cringe, pulling my arm away. “When I met you, you were pickpocketing in the pleasure district, please remember that.”

She rolls her eyes. “An attitude like that is going to leave you without a place to sleep at night.”

I take her comment for the empty threat it is. Every other day she’s threatening to kick me out of her private trailer so that I’m forced to fight for cots or speak to the Ringmaster about my lodging arrangements. He’d give me what I want, but speaking to him feels so slimy I’d sleep in the woods before trying it.

“Kaz.” I turn my head in time to see the girl that gave me the advice about the tightrope walker. “We need to go, he’s coming soon--you’ll do better to speak to him in the morning after she’s gone, that way he has nothing to hold over your head.”

“Once I’m gone?” The girl had called me a Saint. I can appeal to her. “I’m not--I’m not going anywhere, I said I’d help.”

Her eyes widen, sympathy reflected clearly in her dark irises. “There was never a version of this in which you ended up staying here.” I hear a hint of apology in her voice. “You won’t believe me, but I promise this will be better for you.” All of her pity is gone with those, replaced by something hard.

Seria responds for me, “I think you should go.”

“What?”

She almost smiles, but her eyes are painfully sad. “I never wanted you to be here forever. I don’t trust these people, but I trust their ability to get you out of here, even if only for a little while. Bad things are coming, and I think you’ll miss the worst of it if you go now.”

What she alludes to is a blade in my heart. “You want me to leave you here to deal with it?”

“Y/n, I’ve been hurt here more times than I can count--”

“No, I won’t leave y--”

Seria squeezes my shoulder, “It’s not forever.” When she wants something, it’s almost impossible to get around it. “Besides, if I need you, you’ll see it.”

My world feels to have lost the vibrance of color. I’ve left so much, but I let myself believe I wouldn’t leave her. I pull her into the hug. “The moment I see a vision of you in any type of danger, I’m coming back.” I hug her even tighter when she tries to pull away so that I can whisper something in her ear, “I’ll use this opportunity to leave the Ringmaster and then I’ll get you out, and together we’ll leave Ketterdam. We’ll find your child, like you always wanted to and they’ll know that they're lucky because they’re the only kid in the world to have you as a mother.”

She squeezes me so tightly I find it hard to take full breaths. “Two,” Seria whispers, “I have two children.”

My eyes burn as her words find their way into my heart. “I love you, Seria.”

“I love you too, my star,” she pulls away enough so that I can look her in the eye, “you don’t like being called a Saint, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of the title.”

Tears prick my eyes as she releases me. “I’ll find you.”

“He’ll be coming soon,” the girl warns, “He spoke to an advisor about wanting to find you after the show.”

No doubt to praise the fire stunt he forced onto me. Bastard. I nod once but I don’t move. I can’t bring myself to leave Seria until the girl places a hand on my elbow.

Falling Angels Taglist: @glowstick-lesbian @cashlum @whatiswrongwithpeople @pass-me-jeez-it @thecraziestcrayon

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secretshinigami · 3 years

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Author: @kiranatrix For: @baranedizille Pairings/Characters: Light Yagami, L Lawliet, Ryuk, Sayu Yagami, Sachiko Yagami, Socihiro Yagami // Lawlight if you squint, or not Rating/Warnings: Gen // no warnings Prompt: To-Oh timeline. L visits the Yagamis to work on a project with Light, L has a dinner with Light’s family and it’s awkward. And ofc, Ryuk is also there commenting the situation. Author’s notes: I hope you enjoy the story! This occurs on the evening of April 11 while Light and L are both at To-Oh. Soichiro has been resting at home following his heart attack on April 7 (the day of Light and L’s tennis match). The Japanese legend mentioned in the fic (The Fire Quest) is a real one. Sayu gets it mostly correct, but the traditional version in English is here: https://www.worldoftales.com/Asian_folktales/Japanese_folktale_49.html.

—–

Hideki Ryuga– L –was coming over tonight and Light hardly knew how to handle it. L, with his too-long fingers and his too-intense stare, his perfectly enunciated Japanese and teeth unrealistically white for an all-sugar diet, was coming to Light’s house for dinner and, purportedly, to study.

It was a lie, but that was their preferred currency when shifting closer. Stepping together to a stage, a classroom, a tennis court, a cafe– each time the way was paved with lies, petals they threw at the other’s feet and pretended not to notice. It made getting to the destination sweeter when the end was had only ever been death for one or the other. And still, they couldn’t stop. Light was so glad L hadn’t stopped.

L would be arriving any moment but Light couldn’t help but take out his Death Note from its hiding place, just to touch the pebbly leather of his ace in this game. The Death Note was no proper diary but the handwriting in it betrayed plenty about the emotional state and thoughts of its owner these past months. There was the first casually-scrawled name, jotted off like the joke Light believed it to be. Kurou Otoharada. A long, jagged pen mark bled across the rest of the page, a horizon of surprise when that first death dawned. The next name had been carefully written several times with the spelling slightly shifted, the last instances hurried and impatient. There was an exclamation point by the third experiment, exactly 40 seconds from when he’d inked the right combination. Takuo Shibuimaru. It had probably been added in shock, but Light chose to remember a different reason. I got it right, I won.

The names filling the following pages were unremarkable except that they looked exactly like the handwriting on Light’s homework. Studious, easy, and correct without the requirement of much thought. This was a different kind of work, performed as professionally as an accountant. A roster of the worst murderers of the world, the lowest hanging fruit, and Light plucked them nightly when he wasn’t sure how many more nights he’d have. Surely there had to be some price for what he was doing? Aren’t you going to take my soul? Ryuk laughed at him, was impressed by him, and that was a good sign for a shinigami; he would take something but not for a while.

It wasn’t until about ten pages in that things got telling again. A name written diagonally, frantically, and taking up nearly an entire page– Lind L. Tailor. Light’s adrenaline and fury and glee stained the paper as much as the ink had, from a pen that he didn’t use often and had grabbed as quickly as possible during L’s broadcast. Everything about this name was different, just as L was different from all those who had come before. This name was the hook that pulled Kira out of the shadows and thrust L into the light, a breadcrumb for both of them to devour and hunger for more.

This elaborate name was immediately replaced in Light’s mind by a single stark gothic letter, so much so that even when he looked back on that day, he didn’t recall a suited nobody slumped over a desk and dragged away on-camera. He only recalled ‘come find me, come find me, kill me if you can.’ Light was so accustomed to everything and everyone being boring and easy, to nothing getting to him. L’s challenge had wormed into his mind and he felt alive for the first time in his life.

Perhaps the smart thing to do would have been to go silent a while, wait it out until the heat died down and he could find out more about L and his methods. Light had tipped his hand a little but not enough to give the game away, only to set it in motion. Yes, he probably should have played it safe. But he couldn’t stop and he couldn’t help but taunt L further, just to keep chasing that new and intensifying feeling of being alive. The danger was part of their dance, and Light wanted to play with L for as long as possible before Kira killed him.

Lind L. Tailor. The ‘L’ had been darkly underlined, reminding Light of the dark half-moons shadowing the eyes of the real man when Light finally met him. The slant of Light’s scrawl, like the hunch of L’s back. The letter ugly and infuriating and fascinating and shouting at him from the page, drawing his finger to trace over it…

Light pulled his finger back like he’d been burned when he heard his mother calling up to him, heartbeat thudding as he bit his lip and grinned. He quickly snapped his Death Note shut and carefully placed it back in his rigged desk drawer. He’s here.

“Light! Sayu!” Sachiko leaned to call up the stairs from where she was washing her hands in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on their meal. “Would one of you get the door, please?”

She gave Soichiro a stern look as he shifted on the couch. “Not you, Soichi. If you insist on going back to work tomorrow I want you resting tonight.” Her husband had only come home from the hospital a few days ago after his stress-related heart attack and she was anxious about letting him go right back.

“Coming!” Light bustled out of his bedroom as the doorbell chimed again, nearly barreling into Sayu. “Whoa!” He gripped her shoulders to steady himself, smiling and flustered. “Don’t worry about it, Sayu. I’ll get it.”

“Oooo, who’s coming over tonight?” Sayu grinned up at her brother, noticing a rare faint blush on his cheeks. “You look so nervous! Is it a girlfriend?”

Ryuk floated through Light’s bedroom wall, chuckling at the insinuation. “Pfft, not exactly.” It hadn’t escaped Ryuk’s notice that Light had taken even more care than usual with his appearance tonight and that he’d been mulling over the Death Note in a rather odd way. “Ya do look a little flushed, though. Hyuk hyuk…”

“No.” Light rolled his eyes as he made his way downstairs, ignoring both his sister and the shinigami. Do I really look nervous? He smoothed his features and said, “It’s just Hideki Ryuga from Ecology class. We have a project to work on tonight.” His father was the only other person who knew who Ryuga really was. L, the infuriating detective spying on him at To-Oh. Ryuk knew even more than that; namely, that Light was the very person L was looking for, but a shinigami was the best secret-keeper.

“HIDEKI RYUGA?! Light! THE Hideki Ryuga?!” Sayu bounded down the stairs excitedly after Light, squealing with delight and clutching her hands over her heart. “I want to meet him, too! I’m his biggest fan! I know a lot about ecology and maybe I can help you–”

“Shhh! Sayu, please.” Light shot Sayu a good-natured warning look as he opened the door then forced himself to smile cordially at L. “Hi, Ryuga.” He heard a soft noise of disappointment from Sayu as well as peals of shinigami laughter. It would have been Light’s reaction if the movie star had actually been there instead of his rival.

“Hello, Light-kun. Good to see you again.” L was wearing his usual attire, a white long-sleeved shirt and baggy jeans, and he had a backpack slung over one hunched shoulder. He’d made a half-hearted attempt to brush his hair tonight, but the effort had been rewarded with a fluffy black halo that was even more wild-looking than his usual spikey bed-head.

“I see you managed to find the house.” There was a faint note of sarcasm in Light’s voice. As if L hadn’t gathered all the information he could about Light, illegally, invasively, or otherwise.

A small, wry smile tugged at L’s lips and he answered, deadpan, “Yes, seeing that I am here, I apparently managed just fine. Are you impressed?”

“Incredibly. Please come in.” Smartass. Light held the door open for L to enter and gestured to Sayu just behind him. “This is my sister, Sayu.”

Sayu had been peeking around Light, eyes wide with curiosity about the odd-looking person who was most definitely not the idol she’d been hoping for. She’d met lots of Light’s friends over the years but no one quite like this. “Wow…I’ve never seen anyone’s hair do that before. Where are you from? Are you older than Light? How does-”

“Sayu!” Sachiko rubbed her hands on her apron and sighed in fond exasperation. “Hideki-san, please forgive my child’s rudeness. She’s just excited to meet Light’s best friend at school.”

Best friend? L’s eyes cut to Light, who immediately looked away. It amused L to hear their lies mirrored by other people.

Sachiko bowed politely and gave him a warm smile. “You are very welcome in our home. I’ll be serving dinner in a few moments.” She arched a brow at Sayu, “Please go set the table, Sayu.”

L gladly toed out of his worn sneakers, padding along barefoot behind Light through the foyer and into the living room. “Your home is very cozy, Light-kun.”

Ryuk snorted, “Like he hasn’t already seen every inch of it on camera.”

Exactly. Light clenched his hand in his pocket but didn’t let his expression falter. “Dad, Hideki Ryuga is here for dinner. We have a project to work on tonight.”

Soichiro looked up from the newspaper he’d been reading on the couch and gave L a polite nod. “Forgive me for not getting up, Hideki-san, I’ve been confined to the couch until dinner on my wife’s orders.” It was slightly uncomfortable to have L here in his home given that he knew his son was under some suspicion. Soichiro dismissed those suspicions out of hand, but he dreaded that L might turn his searchlights on Light during family dinner.

“Please call me Ryuga.” L gave Light a crooked grin. “That’s what my friends call me.”

Sayu skipped into the living room with a fist full of chopsticks. “Mom says you can go ahead and sit down. It’s yakisoba tonight!” She grabbed the guest’s arm and dragged him over to the table. “You can sit beside Light, Ryuga.”

L blushed faintly but let himself be pulled along. “Ah…alright.” It was strange to realize that he’d never had a ‘real’ family dinner inside someone’s home before. Of course, he’d never had a family or friends, so perhaps not so surprising. He dropped his backpack to the floor and climbed into the seat beside Light, crouching as he usually did.

Light and Soichiro didn’t bat an eye at that but Sayu couldn’t help but gape at him. “Isn’t that an uncomfortable way to sit? My legs would fall asleep!”

“Sayu.” Soichiro sat down at the place opposite Light. “Ryuga is our guest, and he’s welcome to sit how he pleases.” He knew from experience that whether L, Ryuzaki, or Ryuga, the peculiar man would do things his own way.

Sachiko came in a moment later with the dishes for dinner, including yakisoba, miso soup, rice, and pickles. “Please help yourselves. We’re not very formal around here, Ryuga.”

Ryuk floated behind Light, one clawed hand curled around the back of the human’s chair. “Dunno why you humans go to so much trouble when ya could just have apples.”

“Hmm.” L peered at the various options, one finger perched on his lip. “I’ve never had yakisoba before. I admit I don’t eat many noodle dishes.” He’d brought some candy bars and a slice of cake in his backpack in case he didn’t like the food. Wammy had told him to at least wait until he was up in Light’s room studying to eat it, though. Apparently it was rude not to at least try the meal (although he still wasn’t sure if he cared).

“I bet you’d like it.” Light served L some noodles and then put some on his own plate. He whispered to L, “Don’t be difficult. It’s sweet.” He wasn’t about to tell L that he’d suggested yakisoba to his mother tonight for that very reason, or that there were vegetables hiding in it. Why in the hell do I care about pleasing him?

“Hmm.” L tentatively picked up his chopsticks and poked at the noodles, looking between them and Light. “Is it spicy?” It was also becoming clear that he’d never used chopsticks before and they kept slipping from his hand. Why hadn’t he asked Wammy to show him how to use them?

“No, it’s not–here, you’re not holding them right.” Light set his own chopsticks down and took L’s hand, gently molding the fingers into the right position to hold the utensils. He’d done the same thing for Sayu when she was small and learning, so the offer felt automatic. It wasn’t until he looked up and saw L staring at him that he felt self-conscious and pulled away. The gesture had felt too genuine and that made it suspicious. “Well, that’s how to do it. I know you’re a quick learner and will pick it up.”

L looked down and murmured, “Was that a pun, Light-kun?” He concentrated and managed to pinch a bite of yakisoba, quickly shoveling it into his mouth before it fell off. “…mmm!” He didn’t bother to completely swallow the mouthful before saying, “It is sweet. And quite good.” He picked up another bite with slightly more dexterity. “I like it.” Perhaps the cake in his bag could just be for dessert.

Light smiled across the table. “It really is good, Mom, thank you.”

“Oh, you’re always welcome.” Sachiko beamed happily as L quickly devoured his noodles and took another helping.

Soichiro relaxed a little, seeing as things were going more smoothly than he’d expected. “So, boys, what is your project about?”

“It’s for Ecology. We have to collect an insect and bring it to class tomorrow since the lecture is on local entomology.” Light took a sip of tea to hide his amused smile; L was handling the chopsticks perfectly now. Of course he’d be good at that, too.

“Eww.” Ryuk scrunched up his nose, he didn’t much like bugs and creepy-crawly things. “Hope it won’t be flappin’ in a box all night cause that would creep me out.”

“Not just on local entomology, Light-kun.” L chewed a few times, loudly, and swallowed his mouthful. “It’s also on insect phototaxis.”

Sayu, tilted her head and asked, “What’s that?”

L suddenly wished he hadn’t spoken up at all. “Well….” He looked down at his meal, stabbing at the noodles. “…an attraction to light. Some insects, like moths, use the moon to navigate and become confused by artificial light. That’s why they flap around outdoor lightbulbs at night.”

“Oh! Like the Fire Quest!” Sayu nodded sagely. “I know all about that.” When Ryuga just looked at her blankly, she added, “You haven’t heard that story? It’s a famous Japanese legend!”

Soichiro sighed, “I’m sure Ryuga doesn’t–”

“I have not heard it.” L set his chopsticks down and leaned forward in his crouch, hands on his knees as he stared at Sayu. “Please tell me the legend.”

“Sure! See, Light, I told you I could help with your project.”

Light grinned and laughed softly. “Just tell the story, Sayu.” Japanese folktales weren’t going to help them but he was happy to indulge his little sister.

“I’m getting to it!” Sayu sat up straight in her chair, trying to look and sound more official. “There was a queen of the fireflies who lived in a lotus blossom in the middle of a peaceful pond. She was so beautiful that all the moths, dragonflies, and other bugs who lived around the pond were constantly bothering her, begging to marry her. But she didn’t want any of them so it was very annoying.”

L nodded seriously. “Yes, I can see why that would present a problem. Did she tell them all to go away?”

“Oh, she tried! But they wouldn’t listen and there got to be so many bugs on her lotus blossom she was afraid it was going to sink. Completely messing up the whole peaceful pond aesthetic.”

Light snickered and dropped his chin into his hand, smiling at Sayu. “I don’t remember that little detail from the story.”

“Shhh!” Sayu stuck out her tongue at Light and continued. “Anyway, she thought up a way to get rid of them all. She told them that since she was a firefly, she could only marry the bug that brought fire back to her. Whatever bug did that was worthy to be with her forever.”

L gave her a lop-sided smile. “I can’t imagine that turned out well for the insect suitors.”

“Nope! But they couldn’t help themselves. They fluttered and flew around candles, torches, bonfires, all trying to catch the fire that the queen had told them to find but every one of them burned up instead. Nobody completed the Fire Quest and the firefly queen and her pond were left in peace.” Sayu smiled proudly. “The end.”

Ryuk had been hanging on Sayu’s every word, half-sitting on the table. “Hahaha! What a great queen!” He hadn’t been aware that fireflies were so sneaky but there was still a lot about the human world he didn’t know. “Now I wanna see a firefly!”

Light hummed thoughtfully, recalling the legend from his own childhood. Sayu had embellished a bit but it was mostly accurate. “Serves the suitors right, I suppose. They should have listened when the queen told them to go away.”

“The queen sent them on a quest she knew would result in their deaths.” L turned to look at Light, a small smirk on his lips. “Their annoyance hardly necessitates murder, Light-kun.”

“Murder?” Light laughed in a charming way but there was shrewd interest in his eyes. “She didn’t tell them to burn themselves up. They should have known better.” They couldn’t help themselves. Just like we can’t. “Anyway, it’s just a silly legend.”

Soichiro quickly changed the subject.

—-

After dinner, Light showed L up to his bedroom where they could catch an insect from his balcony. His mother had given them a large glass jar and he set it down on his desk, thrilling at having L so close to his secrets. “There’s a bright light on the balcony but it might take a few moments to attract anything.” He switched on the light, dimming the desk lamp so they could see outside better. He leaned against the glass door, watching L mentally cataloging the contents of his room. “I was surprised when you asked me to help you with this project, Ryuga. It’s not very difficult to catch your own bug.” I know you just wanted to see my room for yourself.

“I have never done it before.” L crouched in Light’s desk chair, opening up his backpack and taking out the slice of cake he’d stowed inside. Tonight had been full of firsts for him– chopsticks, yakisoba, legends, bugs. “I didn’t want to kill it since we’re supposed to bring it in alive.” He forked a piece of the strawberry cake, staring at Light while he ate it. Mouth full, he grinned and said, “Think we’ll catch a firefly?”

Light laughed softly and shook his head. “Not really the right time of year for them. They come out in the summer.” He gazed out the glass door, noticing a few flies and mosquitos starting to circle around the caged bulb. “Sometimes we see them in our backyard. Sayu and I would catch them when we were kids.”

“Pity. After hearing your sister’s story, I wanted to see one.” L ate the last bite of cake, placing the empty plastic box in Light’s trashcan (after glancing to see what else was in there).

Light asked over his shoulder quietly, “Don’t they have fireflies in England?”

L smiled slyly, getting up to stand beside Light at the glass door. He recognized the bait and only gave the line a tug. “They do, but doesn’t mean I was there to see them.” In truth, he’d been too wrapped up in his cases to venture outside much as a child. Such single-minded focus had benefitted him in some ways and set him apart from a normal childhood in others. “Perhaps Light-kun will invite me back in the summertime.”

“Of course, Ryuga.” Light smiled at him, catching his reflection in the glass. How long would their game go on? Into the summer, the fall? What season would see it end?

“Look.” L tapped the glass just over Light’s reflection, but what he was pointing to was on the other side. A large green-winged luna moth had landed on the cage surrounding the light bulb and was lazily flapping its wings and warming itself. “The first suitor has arrived.”

“Still haven’t learned the ‘murderous’ queen’s lesson.” Light laughed and grabbed the jar off his desk. “Lucky for them we have electric lights and not fire.” He unscrewed the top and handed the jar to L. “Cmon, you do it.”

L looked down at the jar as if it were Kira’s power instead just an old pickle jar. “The jar is too small.” He shifted to the other foot. “I’ll crush it.”

“No, I think it’s plenty big. We can put it in a shoebox after we catch it, anyway.” Light smirked at him. “You’re just making excuses. Or maybe you really can’t do it?” He knew L wouldn’t turn down a direct challenge.

“Alright.” L sighed and took the jar, frowning as he plotted his approach. Sliding the door open carefully so not to startle it, he crept forward very slowly until he was right beside it. Turning back to Light, he whispered, “Now what?”

“Just scoop it up in the jar. Try not to touch its wings, though.” Light watched as L brought the jar up to the luna moth, delicately prodding to encourage it to go into the jar by itself. Amazingly, it worked, and the moth calmly settled into the bottom of the jar.

“Light-kun!” L hurried back inside Light’s room, smiling broadly down at his captive. It looked like a miniature angel with its gracefully tapered wings and fluffy golden antennae. “It was easy after all.”

“Everything’s easy for you, isn’t it?” I know the feeling. Light screwed the top onto the jar, poking generous air holes in the lid with a pair of scissors. He held it up for both of them to see, L leaning in closely, chewing his thumb at the undamaged and placid moth. “It’s a nice catch, too. I bet no one else will bring in anything this big.”

L didn’t answer him for a long moment, just stared at the moth and the slow up-down, up-down of its wings. “What do you think would have happened if one of the suitors brought fire back?”

Light blinked. “Huh?”

“In Sayu’s legend. What might have happened if one of the suitors completed the Fire Quest and brought back fire to the queen?”

“I…I don’t know. I guess she would have burned up too if one managed to make it back to her. Would have been suicide.” Light gave L a puzzled look. “That’s impossible though. It never would have made it.”

“It might have.” L took the jar, setting it on Light’s desk and turning his full attention to his human specimen again. His hand fluttered from his mouth in a parody of a moth or a name written diagonally, frantically, and taking up nearly an entire page. “If he was a firefly, too.”

Light’s gaze followed L’s hand, those too-thin fingers that had gently ushered the moth to its prison. “So he would trick the queen and allow all the other suitors to get burned up instead of warning them?” He laughed a rare, genuine laugh. “Wouldn’t that make him as bad of a terrible, unfeeling ‘murderer’ as the queen?”

“It’s just a silly legend, Light-kun.” L stuck his hands in his pockets, giving Light a cryptic smile. “But he’d win, wouldn’t he?”

#fanfiction #submission #death note #Light Yagami #soichiro yagami #Sayu Yagami #Sachiko Yagami #l lawliet #l #lawlight #kiranatrix #baranedizille #Mello's Birthday Mayhem 2020

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anakinthetrashking · 4 years

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BnHA One-Shot Fic Recs (pt2)

I AM HERE! With more recs for you! The last post was all about DadMight, such a beautiful genre *wipes tear from eye* This time its DADZAWA! if you happen to follow me, you might know that i really really(really) love Aizawa. a lot. So im going to try to keep this to only 10 recs, but,, well,,,, we’ll see anyway leTS GO

Aches and Pains by Badwolf36 Rating: G Category: Gen ~2700 words Summary: In which Izuku isn't willing to admit how much pain he's in, and Mr. Aizawa is just as much of a softie for his students as he always is. I’m always SO WEAK to stories that deal with the very real consequences of breaking all of your bones. Poor Izuku. I enjoyed the details of how he’s feeling, the way that the reader’s awareness of his pain waxes and wanes along with Izuku’s (temporary distractions can only do so much, A+ for realism there). Also, soft Dadzawa while not mushy-ooc-Aizawa! Conclusion: I love this and also want Aizawa to make me hot cocoa when there’s storms and i cant sleep!! (sidenote, everytime i see this username my brain shorts out bc my old ff.net account was also Badwolf## lol)

My Neighbor Shouta-ro by Hound_of_Heaven Rating: G Category: Gen ~2,700 words Summary: Yamada Hizashi, on Christmas Eve of the year he turns 19, jokingly presents Aizawa Shouta, also 19, with a Totoro kigurumi. Everything that follows after is pure chance. Heeeeeeeeeck this is ADORABLE. I- You guys- this is so pure and so precious and so!! go read it, i died. such fluff.

constrained by my own mind (im not fine) by CamsthiSky (tumblr: @camsthisky ) Rating: G Category: Gen ~1,500 words Summary: Midoriya Izuku is a problem child, and for some reason, Aizawa Shouta cares too much to let him fend for himself when the kid is obviously dealing with something First of all this is written by one of my fav Batfam writers!!! I was so hype when i saw this posted and OF COURSE IT WAS JUST AS WONDERFUL IF NOT MORE SO THAN I EXPECTED!!!! A+++++ in character for both Izuku and Aizawa. Izuku is jumpy and anxious and stressed and i love it. That the way Izuku started out, and while i am eternally happy at how much his life and social reactions have already changed, stuff like that doesnt just disappear in even a year, so I love fics that address that and expound on all the progress that he would have to make behind the scenes. and having Aizawa as the catalyst to begin getting actual help? *chef’s kiss* This checks boxes and then proceeds to cover the page in checkmarks LOL

remember from here on in by aloneintherain (tumblr: @captainkirkk ) Rating: T Category: Gen ~8000 words warning: spoiler heavy from manga chp 215 Summary: Aizawa glances from All Might to Midoriya quickly. It sounds impossible—he’s never heard of a quirk that can be handed down like a family heirloom—but at the same time, it makes perfect sense. Midoriya’s inability to use his quirk at the start of the year. The strange, familial relationship between All Might and Midoriya. The slow malnourishment of All Might’s body, like his power was being siphoned away. “You’re …” Aizawa begins.“I’m All Might’s successor.” Midoriya’s proud but shaky voice rings clearly down the empty corridor. Aizawa finds out about One for All. Awwwwwwww yiiiiiiiissssssssss!!!!! reveal fic!!!! one of my all time fav tropes!!! Plus it expounds on some future theorys/possibilities(Spoilers!!!) and you get some great interactions between Izuku and Shinsou, and plenty of opportunities taken to wear out our already worn out catepillar-sensei. poor guy needs a break but would do anything for these kids. Incredible characterization, great feels!!

Those Hardest to Love Need it Most by DancingintheStorm Rating: T Category: Gen ~8,200 words Summary: Shouta gripped the phone tight enough to make the phone case groan. “So it’s true. Midoriya was Quirkless.”“Until soon before the entrance exam,” Nedzu confirmed. “That’s not relevant now, though, because—““Relevant?” Shouta hissed. “Midoriya is barely functional, socially. He doesn’t trust any adult. He thinks the whole world hates him. He apologizes for everything except breaking the law, and I’m sure I can trace every single one of those things back to his Quirklessness. You call that irrelevant?” Aizawa visits Aldera Junior High and finds out some disturbing truths. Yes. Just. Yes. Righteous anger abounds, local anxiety-child is told for the first time that his life has worth, more at 10 (I LOVE THIS ONEEE)

The Gaunlet and friendships and how memes tie the two together by averypassionateperson Rating: T Category: Gen ~3,500 words Summary: Shinsou walks into his first day in the Hero Course hoping to get politely ignored. He walks out having gotten into a sanctioned fistfight with the entire Bakusquad and a whole lot of new friendships. Also, memes are responsible for most of this. This fic is SOOOOOOOOO much fun. Always sure to bring a smile and honestly all I could want from a fic about Shinsou’s first day in 1A!!!

like light through a window by achievingelysium (tumblr: @queenangst ) Rating: T Category: Gen 1,139 words Summary: The first time Shouta sees what Hagakure looks like, it’s because she’s covered in blood. Coming from one of the best Dadzawa writers around, is a delightfully haunting fic centered on Hagakure!! The Dazawa is of course, spot on, the premise makes your heart ache as it plays out like a movie in your mind. So smooth to read, while so emotionally painful. Ouch. It is a fic with imagery that has stuck in my mind like a plant with deep roots, bc i keep thinking about it despite my too-much-fanfic-reading-adhd-muddled-brain. I feel like i had more to say but tumglr erased the paragraph i had originally written. D: (side note, as i am keeping these posts to 10 fics... this fic came from her series of 30 min fics which you can find here on tumblr ao3 its an absolute goldmine of one-shots, go check it out)

a frozen pond, dark and deep by walking_through_autumn Rating: T Category: Gen ~3,800 words Summary: In the aftermath of Endeavour's battle against High End, Aizawa escorts Todoroki to his home for special leave, and they have a conversation that has been long in the making. (Or: Over two car rides and the mystery known as bubble tea, Aizawa divulges information, Todoroki returns the favour, and trust is built over unexpected similarities.) This fic felt just as quiet as the two characters it surrounds, which was really nice. Even deep emotional grieving can be quiet, since everyone feels things and reacts to things differently. It was a brilliant way to chip away at these character’s walls to let light shine through without creating an earthquake event to destroy the walls completely, you know? and it works off of canon so well. ah yes seeing the process of Aizawa realizing that hes has adopted another child is my fav anyhow i enjoyed it very much!

but still my heart is heavy (with the hate of some other man’s beliefs) by honeyandsunshine Rating: T Category: Gen ~3,500 words Summary: Nemuri jerks a thumb to the side window, presumably the one with the best view of the front gates. When Shouta looks, a small crowd, all of which he can recognize from his class, are gathered around a sleazy looking man with a camera and a microphone. Half their quirks are activated. Bakugou and Todoroki are smoking. From the bushes nearby, a rather enraged stag emerges. As he gets up, Shouta just hopes they haven’t already killed him. Or:Class 1-A defends their own. Aizawa suffers, but looks after them anyways. I love how this doesn’t go the way you expect it to. and how much Aizawa loves and trusts his class full of gremlin heroes. The Dadzawa is so soft, his logic is sound, my heart aches, and i kinda want to cry. really, really, really great you guys

bend, don’t break by heyhamlet (tumblr: @hey-hamlet ) Rating: T Category: Gen ~4,100 words Summary: It started, as it always seemed to, on what was supposed to be a pleasant day. ---A Christmas shopping attempt gone wrong, Aizawa and Midoriya have to survive a strange nightmare quirk, all while trying to work out how to get out of there alive. Aizawa is injured, Midoriya is panicked. It's less a question of what could go wrong, but more what could go right. Another fic that has not left my soul since i read it. Some of it is truly terrifying in a way that I hope never haunts my own nightmares. and honestly isnt that reason enough to read it? While near death experiences bond people together well, nothing beats being trapped with someone in a nightmare that is feeding off of your deepest fears! If Aizawa wasn’t considering adoption before, he certainly is now. Found family before the monster finds you...0.o go read it, its a treat from another top notch writer!

well, thats 10! the next post will probably be misc. bnha one-shots. Enjoy and don’t forget to give the writers your souls love and comments!

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darkpoisonouslove · 3 years

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Riven x Musa

Ok, so I keep seeing posts everywhere that basically badmouth S8 and after seeing ten seconds of the trailer (YIKES to the animation, what’s wrong with the industry that they are making everything anime? Powerpuff Gen Z, I’m looking at you – obs: I didn’t watch it fully yet) I can see where some of the criticism is coming from but anyways…

My favorite Winx!couple EVER has always been Musa x Riven since I was kid and first watched the show (Netflix is not helping ‘cause I ship them even there).

I remember yawning at Bloom/Sky, rolling my eyes at Stella/Brandom and making a completely incredulous expression that I could literally feel forming on my face at Helia/Flora (can anyone say ‘unrealistic’?). Timmy/Tecna are a second favorite.

And why my Winx OTP are Riven x Musa followed after Timmy x Tecna? Because it reflects real life. In real life you’re not gonna stumble into people whose real and deep relationship problems are solved in twenty four minutes (not even that considering that some episodes present the “problem” half-way through said 24 minute-episode).

The breakup between Riven and Musa in S6 (spoilers everywhere after all) was one of the most mature breakups in the history of breakups with the hope for the future (yes, I’m completely ignoring S7, sue me, the whole thing was one huge filler anyways). And, after reading a lot of opinions on both ends (defending Musa/attacking Riven and defending Riven/attacking Musa) and watching the episodes in question (reuniting through reconciling) I think I can give my own analysis.

Since Musa AND Riven (individually and as couple) are my favorite characters in Winx, I think I CAN give a fairly unbiased view (hopefully).

*clears throat*

Ok, keep in mind that I’m defending BOTH of them, because I ship them too hard not to.

Musa Being OC (sometimes being called ‘brat’): C'mon, people! Musa and Tecna are OC since S4 anyways, where are the tomboy and the nerd? With the sneakers, T-shirt and comfortable-looking clothes? Noooo, now they all need neat skirts and hot pink high heels and long, glamorous hair. Do they look good? Of course, but and I would totally be less pissed if there was ANY indication on the reason for the change. Are they just maturing? Expressing themselves differently? Crowd mentality? Tune and Stella finally broke Musa down and Tecna followed soon after? Was it just to please Riven and Timmy? ANYTHING (even the 'pleasing a boy’ would at least be A reason - a ridiculous one that would piss me off, but A reason none the less), was just a sudden impulse that took?

Sure, we can talk about “character growth” until we are blue in the face, but the matter of the fact is that there was none.

The changes we see in Musa and Tecna are basically the creators making them more like the rest of the Winx (I’m including Aisha in this too, where is the sporty girl that matched the boy’s interest in extreme sports? C'mon! Even Bloom and her Girl Next Door looks are replaced with Bratz and Clueless-level of outfits).

Is anyone really going to look me in the eye and say Stella wasn’t a shallow (if friendly and good-natured) Mean Girl? She got better, but as I re-watch the show (currently in S3, meaning almost half-way through the content), Stella still worries more about her hair than anything else even while under literal fire.

More and more, Musa, Tecna and Aisha are losing their identities and what made them, IMO, the more badass Winx.

How did the two on the left went from this…

… to this:

Yeah, yeah, Musa still sings, Tecna still technobabble and Aisha is still a Warrior Princess but Aisha was the first one to go Bloom and Stella on us with Musa and then Tecna following soon after. It’s not just their clothing style, it’s the way they carried themselves too.

Right now? The only thing keeping them apart is their BF blues (different kind of blues) and some personal interests (singing, shopping, tech, the whole drama with Domino/Sparks, etc). But that’s IT, their personalities are going down the drain!

Sorry for the long-winded text, but the reason I’m expressing my disappointment at their change is because Musa’s reaction fits it. S6 we have such an AMAZING breakup (didn’t even think that was possible, WTH, right? Amazing breakup?) only for her to be mad as hell at Riven at S8? Bad writing, that has been dragging her (and the rest of the Winx) down to becoming just one unilateral, shallow character (the Specialists are also falling into that pit, what in the world did they do Helia in S8? He sounds like Thor telling about his “brave exploits” there, yikes). And continuity what? What continuity? Do they even remember how the breakup was written?

But ok, let’s put the Audience View aside for a moment and focus only on the In-Universe terms.

S6: You’ll always be my hero.

S8: What on EARTH are you doing here.

I laughed a bit, the contrast just got to me but instead of getting mad at one or the other like most of the fandom, I laughed.

Musa followed that by saying that Riven has not maintained contact and just in that I would be beyond pissed as well and giving my support to Musa. WTH, Riven? I think that each season is more less six months to a year? Sort of? Still, zero contact for so long even after ending on amicable terms and wanting to stay friends? And he went off on his own! A text now going, “I’m not dead” would be the bare basics for Musa not to worry herself bald!

BUT then I also read comments about how this was a two-way street, why didn’t Musa call either? That’s unfortunately something that I very much doubt will ever be explained. One of those: did it or didn’t it? Musa could have called and went straight to voicemail with no signs of life from Riven or she might not have called and just expected him to call as if feminism were dead and all initiative must come from the guy (which doesn’t even fit because they parted as friends).

Since we have no info on the above, I put it on both of them. It’s not fair to say, “HE should have called!” or “Why didn’t SHE call?” because we don’t have fricking context. So the only thing we can take is: no contact.

BECAUSE I put the lack of contact on both of them, Musa’s reaction was a little too much, however, Riven shows up all smirks and leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and I would have flashbacks to S1 if it wasn’t for the animation style that made all the guys look like girls. Dude! Not the time for that kind of posture. Not saying that he should be all sheepish and rubbing his arm as if he had done something horrible (again: we don’t have context on the no contact) but a more neutral approach was warranted here. Nobody does themselves any favors with that kind of attitude no matter what how high of a horse they may be (rightly or not) riding on, if anything I would react like Musa solely on that one.

Next episode we have that Riven convinced the guys to follow the girls in some mission and Musa was angry. Again: I would be too. WTH? Yes, yes, they helped and if it wasn’t for them, the Winx would gotten seriously injured but Musa did have a point saying that this demonstrated that they had no trust in them and need their hand held, it was no sanctioned mission like on Earth after all. BUT, Riven does something that I would never expect from in S1-4: he explains, he reasons it, he puts it in all the words that he does trust Musa and co and that he only wanted to show that he’d be there for her (you know? One of the main issues in S6 that made them breakup in the first place? His inability to conciliate Specialist work with supporting his girlfriend and ultimately failing or feeling like failing in both?) and Musa still pouts, crosses her arms, and turns around. Geez. I expected that one from Stella, not Musa. I think the closest Musa has ever come to THIS was back in S2 when Jared explains that Riven was the one to recommend that he interview Musa and yada yada yada and she got mad and stomped off on the poor guy that didn’t even understand what was going on (only to immediately apologize to Jared and recognizing that it wasn’t him that she was mad at… like I said: what character growth?).

Riven then goes to show that he indeed grew when he asked for advice from Sky and Brandon (WTH, right? Can we picture that happening back in S1-3? He very grudgingly would LISTEN to UNSOLICITED advice from Nabu and Helia in S4-6). And does a very, very goofy and embarrassing show of affection. Yeah… again… I can picture Stella loving the light show with her face for IDK how many people to see but not Musa (although can we really blame the guy after the series went out of its way to make Musa all Stella-like? Clothes, attitude, the only thing missing is making Riven carry her shopping bags around and call him “Shnookums” (although the mental image is already enough for me to fall over laughing, just for the face Riven would make). Still, I have to count that one against Riven if only because (as much as the show gives only lip service to it) Musa isn’t Stella.

Riven being mind controlled (again) aside, those two are back together. And on the overall? Riven showed more growth than any other character in the show COMBINED (he is the Zuko of the show), that doesn’t go to say that he didn’t make mistakes since coming back in S8 (but that was more a guy trying to win back a girl than… betraying his friends for a pair of nice legs or… IDEK like in S1 – where, mind control or not the show itself made sure to make it clear that he had free will) or that he is now the one out of Musa’s league. I think that NOW it can actually work… if the show allows him to keep the progress, Musa is the next to see her flaws and work on them (which she showed to be able to do since S2) and put effort in the relationship. The difference between them is that Musa can actually work on herself and the relationship at the same time. That’s not me saying she is better than Riven in any way, everybody has their own pace and their own way to cope, to improve and to self-reflect.

I still root for them.

~*~

PS-IDK why, but I read posts about how Riven changed so much and posts about how all his progress disappeared and he is now back to his S1 attitude and I’m just cofused. Yeah, different of opinions and so on, but such opposite opinions on the subject of a guy whose relationship was focused on three episodes?

#winx club #winx musa #winx riven #musa x riven #rivusa #anti stella #submission

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nevtelenwriting · 3 years

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You Can Be a Hero

Gen: Shinsou Hitoshi & Dadzawa Aizawa

Rating: Teen?

Just a one-shot that’s part headcanon, part of a longer character-study fic I’m fiddling with for my favorite goth son Shinsou (one sided pining after Aizawa if you squint, Shinsou you poor disaster gay)

How Shinsou started training with Aizawa

“You were good at the festival.”

Shinsou nearly trips over himself in surprise. He’d been on his way home for the day, head down and ignoring yet another long series of meaningful looks from his schoolmates down the hallway. Being in a school of people with the best of the best of quirks meant less looked at him with fear; though not all. At this point it was just aggravating, a tired rhetoric he’d spent his school years shrugging off.

However, those days following the festival he’d noticed an uptick of people seeing his power as less…villainous. No one called it good yet, though. That was fine. He knew he had an uphill battle to fight, he’d known ever since this quirk manifested.

Shinsou never expected a hero to scout after him, not while he was still in General and a first year, so hearing the low timbre of Eraserhead behind him just about made him swallow his tongue in shock.

Shinsou whips around on his heel to look dead at the greatest role model he’s ever known, leaning casually against the outside wall of Shinsou's homeroom. He’s never been this close to Eraserhead despite being in the same school. He's larger than life itself, both as casual looking as a man could be yet swallowed by an air of competency and intimidation. Thankfully those awful bandages were gone from the infamous attack at USJ. He appeared fully recovered from an attack that would have killed any hero lesser than Eraserhead.

Shinsou knows what Eraserhead was capable of. Everyone else idolizes All Might--not that Shinsou didn't also see his goodness--but Shinsou’s idol has always been Eraserhead.

Another reason he resents the kids in class 1-A; they had the incomparable gift of having the greatest underground hero of all time teaching them, and no one seemed to notice or care. He doubts any of them even knew without being told who Aizawa was.

Aizawa stares at him levelly, not betraying any reaction as he mused, “Didn’t expect you to be someone easily snuck up on.”

“What can I say,” Shinsou retorts quickly, more reflex than anything, “I guess I’m not as good as the best stealth hero in the world.”

“Japan, sure,” Aizawa replies just as effortless, and if he could see his mouth beyond his capture scarf Shinsou thought he might be smirking, “Not sure about the whole world.”

Shinsou’s convinced now he’s dreaming, because there is no way in any universe he’s quipping with his idol. Shinsou isn’t that lucky, he’s not blessed.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, regards Eraserhead quietly. He goes back to that first jarring statement as he mutters, “You don’t have to say that. I wasn’t good enough to advance.”

“No, you weren’t.” Aizawa agrees, neither condescending nor placating. “Your grasp on your quirk is rudimentary, but decent. I doubt you’ve had any formal training?”

“Not a lot of people signing up to help the guy that can make you stand on your head,” Shinsou drawls, a level of bitterness in his words.

“So you use your quirk whenever you please then.” Aizawa says softly, also matter-of-fact, no hint of condemnation but also no question about it. “You know that’s against school rules.”

Shinsou grimaces but doesn’t reply. He wouldn’t apologize for using his quirk. He had to practice, and he never made anyone do anything bad. It was easier to be left alone when he could get people to do it himself, and he also needed to learn how to strength his abilities if he ever hoped to succeed.

“I don’t need a lecture,” Shinsou finally decides on. “If I plan on joining your course I need to take what I can get.”

“I’m not here to lecture.”

“Then you’re here to feel sorry for me.” Shinsou says flatly, albeit a little too quickly.

Aizawa stares at him, too quiet, and Shinsou hates how he’s talked to him. Aizawa probably thinks he’s petulant, ungrateful for the sparse moments he’s been granted here just being acknowledged by his hero.

“You’re very careful about closed-ended statements. Usually you use open-ended ones.”

Shinsou nearly flinches. No one had ever caught that before. The thing was his quirk wasn’t activated by questions, specifically, but responses to his statements. He couldn’t explain what it was, but he could feel the difference in the way he phrased his words, how some statements opened his mind and left room for the invisible tendrils reaching out, ready to latch onto the first to bite down and pull them in. Questions were the easiest way to create that space, and that’s how he wrote out the trigger for his quirk on paper. It meant that people only hesitated when they heard the lilt of a question his voice. Had Aizawa figured out it wasn’t so literal?

Shinsou would usually feign ignorance here. He’d remark how strange that was, but this is Aizawa. He deserved the respect of his honesty.

“I didn’t want you to worry about talking to me.”

Aizawa absorbs this, brows twitching a little together as he considers the weight of that awfully vulnerable admission. Shinsou wishes he could take it back the moment it left his mouth.

“That doesn’t concern me. I doubt you’d abuse your quirk that way.”

Shinsou stares at him, loss for words and at a loss for why Eraserhead was wasting his time with him here. If he doesn’t care, then…

“So why are you here?” Shinsou asks, testing the waters in more than one way.

Aizawa doesn’t hesitate, “I wanted to talk to you about your courses. Come with me for a moment.”

Shinsou almost balks, but Aizawa has already pushed away from the wall, hands in his pockets as he meanders down the hall. Shinsou follows after him.

“Your quirk could have many applications in pro work, but the best is obviously apprehension and de-escalation. How complex of an action can you make someone do?” Aizawa fills the silence as they walk to the Hero classes wing, and Shinsou is again, jarringly, lost for words. He’s always been articulate, and he supposes that it was necessary for his quirk to work. He was still in shock Aizawa was talking to him, though, asking him about his abilities, that his head still reeled on why instead of answering his logical questions.

“Um,” Shinsou starts eloquently, “Not really anything complex. Simple actions, one at a time. Like making someone start or stop something.”

“Time limit?”

“Not sure.”

“Longest control then.”

Shinsou scratches his cheek, “Longest so far has been the cavalry battle. But I was able to actively keep renewing the hold whenever I gave new directions.”

“I see. What about distance?”

“Distance effects it, but I don’t know exactly. I can feel the hold strain when someone gets further away from me.”

“So you really haven’t tested limits yet.”

Shinsou frowns at the back of Aizawa’s mussy black hair. He’s hunched over a little, but still taller than Shinsou, with broader shoulders. He clears his throat.

“Again, don’t have volunteers lining up to dance like a monkey, you know?” Shinsou offers, another open-ended statement, and maybe a bit of a test. Aizawa couldn’t erase his quirk with his back turned.

He did sometimes have volunteers, but less dance like a monkey and more, well…fetishistic. Which was great, because he was fucking fifteen and barely thinking about anything like that yet, let alone something so…controlling. Shinsou grimaces to himself.

Aizawa chuckles, “Actually, I do.”

Shinsou doesn’t have a reply to that as they reach his classroom. He gestures to one of the seats but Shinsou doesn’t take it. Aizawa leans against his podium instead, head in his hand regarding him with those tired eyes.

Shinsou takes in the classroom and tastes the little bit of that resentment again. It’s nothing remarkable, looks exactly the same as his own homeroom, but the fact he’s here, so near yet so far, makes his chest clench with anger. He wants to be here so desperately but everything was working again him. It’s not the first time he’s been tempted to try his luck at another school, but distance, cost, and no guarantee he’d succeed there either, kept him here.

As if reading his mind, though it wasn’t hard to read his face Shinsou was sure, Aizawa asks, “Do you still want to be in a hero course?”

Shinsou answers immediately, “More than anything.”

“Hm.” Aizawa looks him up and down, then says, “Even if we did make concessions about your quirk, you’d never pass a physical. Heroes need to have more than one trick, and you’re useless against robots, a natural disaster, and multiple villains at once.”

Shinsou bristled, hands shoving into his pockets and mutters, “Why did you bring me here? This feels an awful lot like you’re rubbing what I can’t have into my nose.”

“I don’t do that. I’m telling you why you’re not here, and what you need to fix if you want a chance of getting in.”

“This school doesn’t care,” Shinsou snaps, “Doesn’t matter how good my quirk is.”

“Which is why you’ll need to work harder,” Aizawa explains, no room for further argument. “It’s not fair, but you need to make yourself irreplaceable. So here’s what we’re going to do. Work with me the next few days. Let me assess where you’re at and how to make you hero-course worthy.”

Shinsou process that slowly. Pieces together that blatant implication. Realizes that Eraserhead isn’t kidding.

“Wait, you…are you joking?” He has to ask, because it’s impossible he means it.

“I don’t joke.”

Shinsou nearly sputters out, “You want to train me?”

Aizawa arches a brow, “Assess, I said. See if you’ve got enough potential. Then yes, if all goes well, I want to train you. I feel our styles would match well, so it’s only logical to pass on what I know to someone who is like me. We need more heroes that don’t rely on self-focused quirks.”

Aizawa explains it practically, matter-of-fact as if there weren’t a million obstacles in the way, a million ways Shinsou could fail--or worse, fail him.

Shinsou swallows hard, “And you think that can be me?”

“Of course,” Aizawa says flatly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Shinsou thinks he might have died. There’s no way his idol, his role-model, the one person who made him believe he could be a hero, was looking at him like this, seeing his potential, his worth, his ability to do good, and decided he was worth the time and energy.

Logistics win out in favor of the shock, or worse, the vain hope that Eraserhead was serious.

“How? You have a class.”

“They’re on internships starting tomorrow.” Aizawa straightens up, fishes out set of paperwork. He hands it over to Shinsou to read. At the top states “Internship Application”. Aizawa keeps talking while he gawks at the form.

“If you’re fine with it, I’ll talk with your teachers and give you a pass on your classes for the next three days. You’ll be entering the hero course late, so you’ll have a lot of catching up to do. First-year internships are among them. So I’ll take you on under my agency, and you intern with me for the next three days. It’s one less thing to worry about, and I get to assess your limitations and potential.”

Shinsou’s jaw has definitely droped, and Aizawa has a lilt of humor in his voice this time when he says, “You’ll catch flies that way.”

Shinsou snaps his jaw shut. He swallows, and asks, finally, the question that’s been burning since Eraserhead first told him he did good at the festival.

“Why?”

Aizawa blinks, “Why?”

“Yeah, why.” Shinsou gains a little more strength, “Why me? Why bother? You have twenty potential heroes in your class. I’m in General, you said yourself I’m weak. I have little hope of getting in without a lot of time and a lot of effort. So why the hell are you bothering?”

Aizawa scoffs, studying him with narrowed eyes that promptly shuts Shinsou up. He should have bitten his tongue. He should have been grateful.

But nothing has ever come easy for Shinsou. There was always another shoe waiting to drop, the bad to every moment of good. No one saw Shinsou’s potential, not to being a hero. People saw him as villainous, terrifying, avoided at all costs. Even those heroes at the sports festival could do nothing against UA’s requirements. So why was Aizawa bothering? What did Aizawa want from him? Nothing came without a cost, Shinsou knew this, and he had to understand before diving too deep into a too-good-to-be-true fantasy.

“You think you’re the first person that had to fight to get here? The first one people called villain?” Aizawa arches a brow, the weight of those words sitting heavy in the room.

Shinsou stares at him with slowly widening eyes, and realizes. Understands.

“You?”

Aizawa sighs and rubs at his eye, the one with the scar and Shinsou wonders about the damage there. “Yeah, me. I was in General first, too. Got a hell of a quirk for a villain too, don’t I? Could screw with All Might himself. The tests were different back then though, I was able to sign away a lot more of the limitations so I could get in. Tests are harder now, which means they’ve become more unfair to those that deserve to be here. So that means we need to bend the rules.”

Shinsou snaps his hanging mouth shut. He should have realized it, but…but the shock is warring with the realization that Aizawa, Eraserhead, understands him. He’d been here beside him, called a villain, fought to be a hero. He wasn’t alone. God, he wasn’t fucking alone.

Shinsou is still swallowing back the vibration in his chest that Eraserhead thinks he deserves to be here when he catches up on what he’s been saying.

God, he refuses to fucking cry.

“You think I can be a hero?” Shinsou asks, and it sounds so stupid, so small, so much like when he’d asked his parents back when things were happy.

Aizawa watches him intensely, and says, “Absolutely. So. See you here tomorrow?”

Shinsou nods vigorously, and Aizawa’s eyes crinkle in the corners with a hidden smile.

“Good. Get rest, you’re in for a long three days.”

Fuck, Shinsou couldn’t wait.

#shinsou hitoshi #aizawa shouta #dadzawa #shinzawa #boku no hero academia #shinso hitoshi #bnha #eraserhead #my writing #bold to think i know what i'm doing #i guess?#I don't know man

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undertalethingems · 4 years

Text

Bark at the Moon Chapter 11: Mob Mentality

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Everything goes absolutely right: everything goes wrong.

Flowey cackled as he raced towards Snowdin as fast as his roots would take him. It was time, it was finally time! He popped up in the town square, in view of the most people. "Hey! Everyone! You have to be ready, the beast is coming! It's--it's in Waterfall right now, I saw Undyne fighting it--but! Oh god, it was so powerful! I think it's coming here next, we have to be ready to fight it together!"

A worried murmur rose from the gathering crowd, and it parted for members of the Royal Guard--the Dogi.

"How long do we have?" Dogaressa questioned, fixing him with a firm gaze.

"I--I don't know, however long Undyne can hold it off. From what I saw... it might only about fifteen minutes before it gets here--but maybe even less!"

"That's still plenty of time. Not to worry, everyone," Dogamy called out, "we'll arrange our forces accordingly. Please take your children inside until it is safe."

"Anyone else who is ready and willing to fight, prepare yourself. We will not let this individual escape justice," Dogaressa added firmly. "We'll regroup at the clearing past Papyrus and Sans' house in ten minutes."

The crowd broke into an urgent bustle as everyone hurried to their families or the meeting place. Flowey slipped away to watch it from a distance, his work done. Excellent. The stage was set, and all he had to do now was put the other piece in place. A bit of scouring, and--oh good, Sans was still napping under his old sentry station. It was kind of funny how he still frequented places he had no reason to anymore. He tapped his snout to wake him up, and ignored the growl he got as Sans set eyes on him.

"Hey, no need for that. I wanna help you out!"

Sans eyed him suspiciously.

"Look, I even brought you a peace offering--here, your favorite!" Flowey said, offering up one of the burgers he still had. It was snatched from his vine almost instantly, and Flowey shook his head. He knew Sans hadn't been able to find much food lately, but he hadn't expected him to be so quick to accept his gift. Well, all the better. It was just a matter of stalling for time now.

"So hey, I know you've been looking for your brother--I've been looking too. And I'm pretty good at finding stuff, so it was weird when it seemed like he wasn't anywhere."

Sans still watched him warily, but sighed.

"Yeah, I know. So color me surprised when I heard where he's been this whole time!"

Sans perked up, tilting his head at him.

"He's been with Undyne! It turns out she knows of some secret caverns and stuff too, and he's been hanging out there. But I also heard... that he's thinking of coming back soon--maybe even today!"

Sans narrowed his eyes and uttered a short, questioning grunt.

"Yeah! I don't know when, but you might wanna head back soon so you can meet him when he arrives. You'd like that, right?"

Sans rumbled, and looked toward town. Flowey wasn't sure if he still--oh, there was the flicker, and Sans was gone. Alright, that would have to do--he grinned. He burrowed back toward town as quickly as his roots could take him, and popped up in the trees to the side of the road to wait. A decent crowd had already lined up, headed by the Guard. Shouts urged stragglers to join the ranks, and he wondered if Sans could hear them from his house.

And then--a far louder cry as Papyrus appeared, plowing through the snow toward the gathered townsfolk. He looked happy to see them at first, expecting them to be a welcoming party. But as he got closer and realized their expressions were all dour, he slowed--and the first attack smacked into him, a heavy icicle bullet. He staggered with a yelp, and the crowd cheered. And then the rest attacked too.

Papyrus tried to shield himself, but there were too many projectiles coming from too many angles. He went down with a shriek, and Flowey cackled. Unless something happened, it'd be only moments until Papyrus was--

A line of bones stabbed up through the crowd's feet, knocking them back. Flowey knew that attack. That was his cue.

"Oh god, there's TWO of them!" he screamed above the confusion, using someone else's voice to avoid suspicion.

A beam of light cut through the crowd, leaving screams and scorch marks in its wake, and then another seared from another angle, sowing even more confusion. Several people fled--this was far more than they'd signed up for, and Flowey cackled gleefully--fools and cowards and idiots, all of them! He delighted in watching them squirm and mill and scramble while they tried to defend their worthless lives as something tore through their ranks. Then, finally something visible--a white blur tackled one of the bears and snapped its heavy jaws around the unfortunate monster's arm, and he screamed as he fell back.

But then something blue flashed within the white blur's ribcage, and it was yanked off and slammed into the clearing with a dull thud. It went still.

Flowey frowned, and looked up. Papyrus was sitting, one hand extended and trembling, tears trailing from his sockets. Realizing everyone was looking at him, he started--then lunged forward, grasping his brother's spine in his jaws and turning tail to flee into the trees. Dogamy called orders for anyone able to fight to go after them, and a small party took off. Flowey watched them go knowing they'd never catch them, but stayed put himself. Undyne had finally arrived. She was jogging up looking thoroughly concerned, and he wanted to see what her reaction would be. Dogaressa approached her, and explained what had transpired.

Her fury was spectacular.

The anguished howl that tore from her throat echoed from the cavern walls, and a tree splintered on contact with a spear thrown in her outburst. Another cracked when she punched it, and it was several minutes before anyone felt they could approach her. She whirled on them, her voice clear even from where Flowey hid.

"This is EXACTLY what I was afraid of--BUT!" she bellowed, "who told you these things?! Who was it? I'm going to make them SUFFER!"

"I-it w-was a flower," one of the townsfolk offered timidly. "A little yellow flower that could talk."

There was a moment's silence.

"HE. IS. DEAD!" Undyne roared. "I want everyone looking for him. He is NOT to be trusted, the lying, manipulating little--I WANT HIM DEAD!"

"B-but Undyne," Dogaressa piped up, "we have to follow due process. What has this flower even done?"

Undyne could barely bring herself to speak. "Those monsters... were Sans and Papyrus. I know it was Papyrus, and the other--I don't know, I don't know! It had to be Sans, somehow--but! That's NOT THE POINT! The POINT is, that flower told us Sans was back, looking for Papyrus, and then he apparently told you Papyrus was the beast and to attack him. For some reason... he wanted this mess to happen!"

There were murmurs through what remained of the crowd.

"I don't have time to deal with you all, so go home, patch yourselves up, and think about what you've done. Guard, we'll talk later. Dismissed."

Flowey giggled. What a fun bit of chaos that had been. He was tempted to just reset now, but he kind of wanted to see this all play out to the very end. Would the brothers ever come back? Who knew. What would happen if they did? What would happen if they didn't? It was all so interesting. He'd call today a success.

#undertalethingem writes #bark at the moon fic #gaster blaster au #papyrus (undertale)#sans (undertale)#Undyne (undertale)#flowey (undertale)#a double update because these chapters are short! surprise~

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mysterioh · 4 years

Text

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Chapter 1

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

SYNOPSIS: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge in art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist

Art Hoe™️

There’s nothing in the world that can beat Saturday morning. A time to sleep in and be lazy with ease in your heart that you don’t have to do anything for the rest of the day.

Bucky leaned back in the office chair (one that wasn’t his) and kicked up his feet onto a neatly organized desk (not his either). His steel-blue eyes were fixated on the screen of his phone with his brows knitted in concentration. Saturday mornings were Mario Kart mornings and Bucky was never one to be less than first place.

Sam walked into the office with his eyes glued to the papers in his hand. He looks up to find someone he’s not supposed to find.

“Bucky, what the hell are you doing?” He asked, annoyed. Bucky’s presence was enough to annoy Sam.

“Shush, I’m in the middle of something,“ he hushed him. Sam rolled his eyes with a groan.

"Where’s the boss?”

“Didn’t I just tell you shut it, Wilson?” Bucky said again, dropping back into third place.

“Are you playing that stupid kids game again?”

“It’s rated E for everyone, punk,” he growled at him. He smiles a little when his Princess Daisy bombs Bowser.

Sam crosses his arms. “You’re not supposed to be in here,” he reminded.

“Alright, mom, what do you want?” Bucky said, his eyes finally pried away from the game.

“First get your dirty shoes off the desk and second, where is Steve?” He asked. “I’ve got some info on the delivery tonight.”

Bucky clicks his tongue but listens to him. “Tell me, Sam, what is today?”

Sam was puzzled. “It’s Saturday,” he replies.

“It’s Saturday morning,” he corrected.

“Okay, and?” he asked, growing peeved.

“Saturday mornings are when Steve goes to meet his muse.”

”The Love Letter by Jean Honore Fragonard" you read off the pamphlet. You look up at the painting with a lopsided frown.

This was what you came all the way from Brooklyn to see? A picture of a lady with a bouquet in her hand and a small smile on her lips. At least the dog was cute but not enough for wasting a perfectly good Saturday morning on.

You didn’t understand where the appeal came from. For this painting or any other for that matter. Yeah, they were pretty but that’s it. You didn’t feel the overwhelming emotion that some felt when they looked at a masterpiece. Never have you ever been moved to tears because of painted canvas. But then again, nothing ever moved you to tears.

You groaned at the picture. “Stupid art professor,” you grumbled with your arms crossed.

You were visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art for an art history project. Your eccentric professor had given an assignment in which you had to find three pieces of artwork and write how you felt about it. She gave a list of the ones to check out first and you decided to just follow it.

You weren’t an art buff or even remotely interested in the subject. It was just a gen ed class you needed to check off and you were hating every minute of it. An hour on the subway just to look at something you could’ve googled in a second. At least you got in for free.

You huffed at the girl. “What’s so great about you anyway?”

“What’s not great about her?” a voice chimed in from your side.

You turn to find a man standing next to you, admiring the masterpiece and overhearing your conversation with the painted lady. He was drop-dead gorgeous. Looking like a blue-eyed, blond-haired Adonis that walked out of one of those thirsty cologne ads. His face was beautiful. Well-defined with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones. The ocean blue of his eyes matching the light complexion of his skin.

He was the kind of guy that made you stop dead in your tracks. He must’ve gotten used to it by now. The natural sudden pause one made as he walked by or the way women must’ve bitten their lower lips at him in desire. He seemed like the type of guy who knew he was good-looking but didn’t pay it any mind. The type of man who would remain modest and humble.

He was dressed casually in a tan Hilfiger wool sweater, a pair of black trousers, and casual sneakers. Oooo rich guy, you thought as you raised a brow at his question to you.

“Pardon?” you asked.

He turns to you with a charming, crooked smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but hear you talking about Marie like that.”

“Marie?” you asked slowly.

“Yeah, that’s her name well according to some scholars,” Steve replied turning fully towards you. “Marie Emilie Boucher. She was the daughter of Fragonard’s teacher.”

“I see,” you nodded slowly, not really knowing what to say. Great, you just crossed paths with an art geek.

“So why don’t you like it?” he asked. His inquisitive eyes bore into your soul, searching for an answer.

You turned to the painting and shrugged. “It’s just another painting of a lady. One that’s not naked, thankfully. I just don’t see the appeal. It’s just an average painting.”

“An average painting?” he asked, completely shocked by your answer. You take a step away from him just in case he got hostile. “How could you say that?” he exclaimed. “There’s so much depth! So much mystery! So many amazing techniques hidden in it!”

“Chill, dude,” you tried to calm him down with your hands in front of you.

His shoulders dropped in disappointment. “I guess some people just have weak eyes.”

“My eyes are perfectly fine,” you retorted, offended by the strange man’s reaction. Warning: hot guy is a jerk. But aren’t they all?

“Then how can’t you see it?” he asked, pointing at Marie. “I mean the brush strokes, the usage of lighting and the coloring. It’s glorious. Absolutely magnificent.”

“Okay, so he painted her dress blue instead of pink, big woop.”

“It’s more than just that,” he shakes his head. “It’s the realism in it. Don’t you feel the mystery around her?”

“Sure,” you replied, not wanting him to freak out again. He chuckles at your blase attitude but goes on to speak. He’d never miss a chance to talk art.

“Look at her face,” he asks and you do as he says. “The small smile on her lips and the sneaky look in her eye showing off that she knows something we don’t. She has something we don’t have. A love letter from her admirer. A fiance? A husband? A secret affair? We don’t know and all we can infer is from the way she teases us with the name on the letter. Her expression is unmistakably coy and it only brings about the question. What could have been written in that letter? Words of deep adoration? Maybe one of a longing desire? Her behavior displays a bit of misconduct considering its time period.”

“You seem like a very nosy person,” you noted earning a chuckle from him.

“I just enjoy art,” he stated.

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” you said, scribbling down some of the stuff he said. It’s not plagiarism if you’re paraphrasing.

“Are you copying down what I said?” he asked, looking over your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you admitted shamelessly, “you don’t mind right?” Who cared if he minded you were going to use it anyway.

“Nah, it’s fine, but it’ll cost you,” he said with a mischievous smirk. You turned to him with a raised brow. “How about you share a cup of coffee with me, beautiful?”

You groaned inwardly. Of course, the hot guy had to make a move. It was hard for them not to. It was in their blood. “Sorry,” you said, sticking your book back into your bag and taking out your pamphlet. “I’m here to work not lounge around. So I’ll see ya.” You turned on your heel and waved him goodbye.

He followed right behind with a smile on his face. “Come on, princess, that ain’t fair,” his Brooklyn accent showing just a little. “Take my words and then give me the boot.”

“You were the one yapping away,” you retorted, your strides getting wider to get away from him. It didn’t take many steps for him to reach you. “You gotta be careful with your words or anything for that matter. How do you think Rosalind Franklin felt when she got robbed by Watson and Crick?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Steve said, sidestepping you, “but you’re from Brooklyn, aren’t you? I can tell from the way you talk.”

You stop in your path when he stands in front of you. “You know the name of the chick in that painting, but you don’t know who Rosalind Franklin is? The founder of the DNA structure?”

“Well, that’s good for her,” Steve replied, not paying much mind to it to ask his own question. “You from Brooklyn?”

You pout with a deep exhale from the nose. “That’s none of your business,” you said pushing past him with your shoulder hitting his arm.

He follows you anyway, it’d take more than a shoulder bump to get the mob boss off your trail. But he guessed you didn’t know who he really was.

“Listen, jerkface,” you hiss at him when you catch him still following you. “I’ll call security if you don’t stop following me.”

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles with the corners of his eyes crinkling, the shine in his eyes unbearably alluring. “It’s gonna take more than simple security to get me away from you.”

TAGLIST: @rootcrop @scuzmunkie

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #mob!steve #mob!steve rogers x reader #mobster steve rogers x reader

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general-fox-hux · 3 years

Text

Fic [8/?]

Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, post-TLJ (TFA and TLJ-compliant, TRoS will be ignored), except it’s Modern AU with magic and magical creatures

Category: Gen

Warnings: canon-typical violence; Rey’s attachment issues

Relationships: Armitage Hux and Rey (NOT Reyux)

Characters: Rey; Armitage Hux; Leia Organa; Rose Tico; Finn; Poe Dameron; Kylo Ren

Additional ‘tags’: fox!Armitage Hux; fox spirit!Armitage Hux; witch!Kylo Ren; witch!Rey

Please note:

some TRoS elements, like new characters, may appear in the future;

warnings may change and there will be chapter-specific warnings

I’m still torn about which ships are going to appear (as a side part of the story AND as a main ship) IF they will, so if you’re concerned about a sudden ship happening that you don’t like, feel free to send me an ask

Summary:

Witch Kylo Ren turns fox spirit Hux into a regular fox and sends him to spy on Rey.

Rey tries very hard not to get attached to the ‘stray’ that found her.

Hux must fight his fox instincts, his hatred towards the Resistance, and his own empathy. Oh no!

________________

________________________

On Sunday morning, Rey decides to rest. She can’t seem to stop stroking the fox’s fur, scratching his neck, massaging white-and-black ears. He’s just so soft and warm, his eyes hooded in obvious pleasure.

All this bliss is interrupted, however, by Rey’s stomach. It growls so loudly that it actually startles Gingerball.

Giving the fox’s ear one last gentle tug, she heads to the kitchen and turns on the electric kettle. Gingerball follows her there and jumps onto the chair. He’s looking at Rey as she prepares the instant noodles, and it helps her with feeling less guilty than when she was making the first packet while waiting for the fox’s dinner to cool off. Now it’s easier to remind herself that the poor animal doesn’t know he’s done something bad.

Pouring the water into her noodle bowl, she leaves her meal for a few moments to get ready and bends to collect Gingerball’s beef to put it into the fridge (although she’s not sure it’d make any difference with how cold this place is). Before she can reach the dish though, he’s already down on the floor and rushes to eat the rest of his food.

‘Good fox, that’s smart,’ she tells him with a smile. She leaves him to it, taking her noodles to the sofa to start reading more of her foxes googling sessions results. Apparently, foxes are little sly thieves and if you have something small enough to fit in their jaws, they’ll grab it and flee. Still, Rey thinks Gingerball is a weird fox.

‘So I hear your diet doesn’t need to be meat-based,’ Rey says, conversationally, putting on her winter boots and coat.

Gingerball laps at his water and generally ignores her.

When he’s done, Rey opens the door for them, but Gingerball doesn’t step out and seems alert, ears twitching. Rey is about to hurry him up, when her neighbour, Mrs Bookdea, comes out of her flat.

Before she can think about what she’s doing, Rey shuts the door closed. Hoping the neighbour didn’t notice her, she glances at the fox, who’s listening intently, posture rigid.

‘Well, tell me when,’ Rey sighs, sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the door.

They sit like that for about two minutes, until Gingerball relaxes and glances at her expectantly.

Once outside the building, they part, the fox running in long hops in the direction of the park, and Rey starting her daily search for lost pets ads.

During her walk Rey spots two missing pets posters (a labrador puppy and a black cat), one found keys ad, and one stolen bicycle ad. There are fliers advertising pubs and pizza places etc., too. Nothing about foxes. As usual.

Sighing, Rey walks back to the building, taking the shorter route.

When she reaches the entrance door and catches a glimpse of Gingerball, she groans.

Little beast has apparently managed to find a wicker basket and filled it with products that most likely belong to a mall.

‘No,’ Rey tells him. ‘Bad fox.’

His tail wags with obvious delight as if her anger and indignation themselves are making him happy.

Huffing with iritation, Rey opens the door, but closes it again when Gingerball uses his jaws to pick up his basket full of stolen food.

‘This is not coming in with us,’ Rey announces. ‘Leave it here.’ He sets the basket down and looks at her with his head turned to the side, as if surprised. ‘Yes, that’s good. Good fox.’

She pushes the door open again, but he doesn’t move. Rey looks around nervously, but thankfully, most people must have decided it’s too cold to go outside. No-one is witnessing this ridiculuous situation. Gingerball lowers his head and reaches for his (stolen!) basket, keeping his wary eyes on Rey, as if monitoring her reactions.

‘No! Leave it,’ she tells him sternly and grabs his collar to make him enter the building without the damned basked. ‘Maybe some homeless person will―’

‘AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!’

‘Oh my god, fine!’ she yells and pushes the door open with much more force than needed, letting the fox go. ‘But I will make you stop,’ she adds through gritted teeth, when he carries the basket inside, head held high and tail swaying behind him, looking so smug Rey wants to scream.

Back in the apartment, Gingerball leaves the basket in the kitchen and moves onto the sofa. Rey doesn’t spare a glance at his “shoppings” and marches into the bedroom to practise her spells.

She has trouble concentrating, though, because right as she’s settling on the floor with one of Luke’s books, some noises from the flat begin to reach her ears. Rey’s certain it’s Gingerball; what she doesn’t know is whether he’s doing something that requires her intervention or not.

He might be just running around or he might be tearing the sofa to shreds, although she supposes the noises aren’t loud enough for those kind of activities. Maybe he actually wants Rey’s attention – but does it mean she should just go there or make him sit alone?

Growling under her breath, she closes the book, sends it to sit atop the rest, organised in a little neat stack, and goes back to the living area.

Rey has no trouble locating Gingerball, but what she sees makes her jaw drop. He’s on the kitchen island, a bunch of grapes held in his mouth gently by the twig. Glancing at her, he lays the thing down on the countertop amongst the other “shoppings” he’s unloaded from the basket and placed there in quite an orderly fashion, and jumps back to the floor to retrieve the next item.

There’s only food and nothing too heavy, like boxes of cereal, more instant noodles, and crisp bread, which is understandable, given that he had to carry it all in his small, delicate looking jaws.

‘Okay. Either you or your owner are batshit crazy,’ Rey comments.

There is no doubt in her now that Gingerball’s owner has taught him to steal food: what kind of animal arranges things so neatly if not a trained one? And, maybe more importantly, what kind of owner teaches their pet to steal food?

Rey imagines a poor, starving person and she can empathise with that. Maybe she shouldn’t judge them so easily. After all, if they could teach the fox how to steal food, they could have also taught him how to steal wallets and jewelry, yet they didn’t. Right?

She rushes to examine all the items brough to her home by Gingerball and once again confirms there’s only food. Wait, no.

‘And what’s this?’

She grabs a small bottle, feeling Gingerball’s eyes on her. It’s shampoo for dogs.

‘So you take baths?’ she asks and can’t help but laugh at the fox’s reaction at her words: he straightens, practically vibrating with excitement, ears moving in her direction and gives a relatively quiet bark. Then, he turns around and starts towards the bathroom, stops, then turns again to look at her expectantly.

Rey bites her lower lip, thinking of the unpaid bills.

‘Fine.’

Maybe she’ll take a bath too? Just this once? Follow the now happy fox’s example and focus on the present?

#POV Rey #fox!Hux fic

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lukeyhughes · 4 years

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so the other day i reblogged a post and vagued about my issues with gk’s framing of iraqi tragedies in the tags, which was then replied to and that reply was circulated. while the reply was awesome/insightful/interesting i feel like my original point sorta got lost in the shuffle. i wasnt going to make a post about this for a bit but i feel like its been consuming my thoughts all day so i’ll elaborate what i meant under the cut!

gen kill is david simon show, so like all david simon shows the thesis is “people exist in inside of a broken system.” in this case, the broken system is the marine corps chain of command and the people are the marines who have to carry out senseless orders. this is shown in many ways, including pointless dangerous missions (see: the bridge, danger close, etc.), how capable enlisted men are vs. most officers, how the “only good officer” nate is punished for rational choices, and how the marines have their spirits crushed because they are forced to senselessly kill iraqi civilians.

when i was in first year of undergrad i took an african studies class that in one seminar problematicized coverage of the Rwandan Genocide: how many times have you heard/read a Romeo Dallaire interview/account? how many times have you read/heard an interview from a genocide survivor? how many times have you seen pictures of bodies/skulls of genocide victims? the answer for the average person is a lot, hardly ever, a lot. with the iraq invasion, the questions would be: how many times have you heard the accounts of coalition soldiers about the iraq war across media types? how many times have you heard accounts of it from the iraqi civilian perspective? how many times have you seen statistics regarding the amount of iraqi civilian casualties? a lot, hardly ever, a lot.

that is all to say that in western media/society we are very comfortable listening to white narratives and just seeing brown bodies, which translates into only hearing white narratives of the tragedies of the deaths of others in foreign countries. in generation kill, iraqi civilian casualties/fatalities/tragedies are framed so that we feel sympathy for the marines that caused them as opposed to those suffering. that is not to say that we as the audience do not feel sympathy (i certainly do!) but it is because of our own internal empathy, not the narrative framing of the show.

let’s take a look at three of the biggest cases of iraqi civilian tragedy and how they’re framed in the show:

first, when rudy goes up to the roadblock and sees the dead little girl in episode 4. we get quite a few shots of the father’s shell-shocked face, but just as many are shots of rudy’s horror/sadness; we watch him walk away from behind from rudy’s perspective and we see that rudy is unable to look away from them. rudy didn’t actually have anything to do with it (aside from abetting i suppose), but even when he gets back to camp the show makes sure to illustrate how affected by it he is, ignoring brad and ray who call out to him. this one is actually surprisingly gk’s best example of eliciting sympathy for iraqi casualties; however, the focus of the scene is still on rudy and the father’s reaction is still mostly used to contribute to rudy’s guilt/horror.

the next scene is the little shepherd boys who were shot by trombley while out with their camels. we see the mom crying over her son, but its basically background noise and is if anything used to further the marines’ (particularly brad and doc bryan to a lesser extent) guilt at causing the situation. we know this because her actions don’t exist independently: they are used for the marines to react to. we also get considerably more shots of marines looking on in horror than her crying about her son. brad’s guilt/sadness about the subject is dwelled on for about twenty minutes over the next two episodes, longer than any of the actual victims’ screen-time dedicated to their feelings combined.

the worst scene is the man in the white car, which sets off the main drama for the next episode. we get why walt did it- the show goes out of its way to make sure that we do- but at the end of the day a man is still dead, likely for no reason. in the aftermath we get about a hundred heartbreaking shots of walt’s shocked face, with a few of brad thrown in as well. on the other hand, we get no shots of the people in the car being horrified at seeing someone they know lobotomized. we just see them run away, no sadness no horror no nothing: from the show’s narrative perspective, this man’s death has no impact on anybody except for walt and the other marines. to make matters worse the man’s face is only shown when the marines notice how horrifyingly disfigured his body is; to me this is robbing the real man of his dignity even in death.

let’s take a step back and look at gen kill’s general portrayal of iraqis. we don’t really get to see the marines interact with civilians until they reach baghdad when they go into rundown neighbourhoods. here, the iraqi men are portrayed as greedy and dumb, cutting in front of children and not understanding that there are other types of government. that’s not to say that that didn’t happen in real life- i’m sure it did- but it’s essentially the ONLY view of iraq civilians we get: ignorant, greedy, backwards, etc. deadass the only sympathetic iraqi characters in episode 7 are children, where we get a couple of UNICEF-esque shots of doc bryan holding crying kids to drive home that guilt factor. i bring this up because it means that the iraqi characters are not written so that you feel bad for them or empathize with their terrible situation. instead, the narrative wants you to empathize with the marines (in this case, particularly nate) who feel guilty for causing this chaos that they can’t do anything to fix it.

the only other time iraqi civilians even have lines is when a refugee women tells brad about how he is destroying her home, but even then the point of that isn’t really her pain but how brad feels guilty/ashamed about what the usmc (an institution that is part of identity more than anyone else) is doing that; also she’s attacking brad who really had nothing to do with the baghdad situation and already feels guilty about other things, so its just creating more material for brad’s identity/guilt crisis and our sympathies for it.

all of this to say is that in basically every single case civilian tragedies don’t exist in the narrative on their own: they are used for the marine main characters to react to: the village. the truck crew. the men at the roadside. even the syrian student.

also @sunnygreys replied to some tags i made alluding to this issue. you should read what they wrote bc it’s a really interesting counterweight to what i’m saying and offers a different perspective. but anyway basically they mention certain lines where people are like “no ones forcing us to be here.” particularly notable was when godfather says that no one is forced to be here because they’re all volunteers in episode 3. my view of this has always been that saying that is ignorance on his part and another symptom of the broken command system. godfather chose to be career military, he chose to accept the mission, he chose to change the ROE, etc: there was no gun to his head. for the enlisted men, the ones on the bottom who actually carried out the mission that injured the boys, they are pretty much being forced to be there by their circumstances. out of all the marines we interact with in the series, im pretty sure brad is the only enlisted man who comes from wealth and by extension had other options, while most others either implicitly or explicitly grew up in impoverished/unstable households: poverty is the new draft. thats sorta between the lines, but i imagine david simon knows that because of his previous work on poverty. what isnt between the lines is that the command system DOES force men in lower ranks to “be there” and carry out order: they can get NJPed for disobeying, they sign contracts that they’ll be dishonourably discharged and lose their benefits if they break, etc. there’s no gun to their head physically but metaphorically its pretty close. to me at least, those lines are not narratively placed to make us sympathize less with the marine main characters but instead to make us sympathize with them even more, because it shows how disconnected command really is. david simon is a huge dick irl but he’s a really clever writer.

again, i reiterate that we as the audience likely feel sympathy for the iraqi population because for most people its naturally sad when people die/get injured/etc. i think a lot of points i made and ones made by @sunnygreys can be mutually true, but the main difference being that i really don’t believe that gk’s intention was to make us step back and reflect on our sympathy with the “oppressors:” i really do think that’s who the show intends for us to sympathize with most based on their choices in camera shots, who says what, etc. that doesn’t mean we can’t step back and reflect, as i hope many of us have, i just think that was an unintended consequence. (if i’m misconstruing what you said please lmk and ill edit!)

that being said, can’t think of a way that generation kill could have done better in this regard based on the book/characters it had. the marines ARE the main characters and by conventional standards its their narrative/feelings/growth that matters. but just because there may have been no other way doesn’t make it unproblematic. its another example of western media using violence against nameless, distant foreigners for their own horror.

there are people wandering this earth who are dealing with the loss of the man in the white car, the little girl at the roadblock, an entire village. those little boys, if they’re still alive, probably have to deal with the severe injuries they got when they were shot by marines. those slums of baghdad may still be in unstable today and have likely lost community members due to sanitation/hunger/violence. imagine knowing that there is a show out there where you or your loved ones are being used as a plot device to make viewers feel sympathy for the ones who put you in those positions. i sympathize deeply with the marines of GK, but i can imagine how hard it would be to be in the iraqi population’s place watching yourself and your experiences interpreted in a way dissociated from your own suffering so that the primary victimhood can be placed on the ones who did it to you.

in conclusion, i love gen kill a lot. i love the story and the characters, and i think its an effective story in terms of achieving what it seeks to achieve. i think it’s okay to love something and be critical of it. also if western media companies weren’t cowards and weren’t scared of losing american military financial contributions they would make a miniseries about the iraqi people who were terrorized by american invaders, including the ones we love in gk!

#my post #generation kill #if this is messy/inarticulate lmk and ill try to elaborate #i rewatched a bunch of clips from the show to make this post instead of doing my job

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chlokohreads-blog · 4 years

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Hiroshima by John Hersey

In a Nutshell

Hiroshima by John Hersey follows the stories of six people who survived the atomic bomb that was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima on August 6th, 1945. Their detailed stories begin shortly before the bomb is dropped and end a year after.

Thoughts

Unsurprisingly, this narrative was heartbreaking. Whether it’s because I’m Canadian, Gen Z, or perhaps even ignorant, I knew next to nothing about the bombing of Hiroshima. I knew it had devastating effects, and I knew it was a new kind of bomb created by the United States of America. But that’s where my knowledge ended. Hersey’s narrative provides some contextual information; however, the emphasis is placed on the survivors and their stories. The narrative begins on the morning of August 6th, 1945. The day begins differently according to each survivor and as you read, you can’t help but wonder: if this person hadn’t left that room, would they have died? If they hadn’t gotten to the staircase at that exact moment, what would have happened to them? Each decision, each step they take, you wonder if that’s what saved them. It’s all a series of decisions, leading up to that one moment that forever changed those six people.

When I read stories or watch documentaries, I always ask the same question: What does it mean to tell this story in this world? This story wasn’t written necessarily for this world but rather, for the world that existed in 1946. So, what did it mean for Hersey to tell the story of Hiroshima in 1946, one year after the bombing of Hiroshima? As someone who lives in world with Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook, it’s difficult to imagine a world where information is scarce or difficult to find. In 1946, Americans could not log on to Twitter and see photos of Hiroshima post-bomb. Today, we would. Hersey’s narrative allowed, and perhaps even forced, Americans to confront the destruction of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. By focusing only on 6 survivors, each account is incredibly detailed and forces readers to be empathetic.

Hersey’s narrative allows people to not only see the death and destruction caused by the bomb, but the ways in which the community came together. Everyone, it seems, did what they could to help others. From collecting water to distribute to those who couldn’t walk, to working in a hospital for 19 hours straight attending to the wounded, the community worked together to help as many people as they could. Rather than focus on the political reactions of Japan, Hersey focuses on the community directly effected by the bomb. This emphasis on the community is important as it allows readers to see the bombing not just as a weapon or a something that happens during a war, but something that had real, devastating effects on real people who are part of a community. Yes, perhaps the bomb was simply the consequence of a war - but it needs to be viewed as much more than that. It needs to be viewed not just through the eyes of political leaders and news anchors who were more interested in what the bomb meant on the global stage, but what the bomb meant to the people of Hiroshima. Hersey’s narrative does just that.

While the narrative seems to be quite flat and monotonous, as McDonald and McCarthy both claimed in their editorials, I argue that the tone of the narrative only adds to the story. Hersey does not insert himself into the narrative. Instead, he allows his subjects to take centre stage. The tone of the narrative – as monotonous as it might be – only cements this point. The narrative becomes more personal as each survivor is given more than adequate room for their story to be told. It is with this monotonous tone that the narrative, in my opinion, captures the humanity in each of the survivors and shows that these six people were people. They were people who lived normal, monotonous lives until one day, a bomb changed their lives.

Hersey’s narrative achieves what any good piece of journalism achieves: a new perspective. The story that he makes accessible is one that makes people rethink the ways in which the perceive war. War has devastating effects countries, but it also has devastating effects for individuals.

#nonfiction

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moved99999999999 · 4 years

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U guys wanna know what I think about that hell hotel show

I feel like twitter’s very tired of seeing ppl talk about Hazbin Hotel, so I putting my opinions on tumblr where they belong. I’m not a “professional critic” by any means, but I’ll try my best given what I know. And don’t worry, I’ll be incredibly nit-picky to suit the internet’s needs.

I’m gonna mainly focus on HH itself instead of Vivzie’s accusations because that's a WHOLE other can of worms to open.

During the time of me writing this, I haven’t watched any YT reviews, but I’ve read a few threads criticising the show, so take that as my social influence bias.

My ted talk is allllll below the cut. Enjoy~

Context:

My first exposure of Vivzie’s work was her “Die Young” animation that I came across around 2016. Instantly I fell in love with how “smooth” and lively her animation was, and especially the fact that it was hand drawn. Animation like that was extremely rare to come by (and still is) and seeing her execute it so well with such complexed characters was amazing to my fetus self.

A few years later and I see the first trailer for HH. I instantly went OH I RECOGNISE THAT STYLE AND THOSE CHARACTER TYPE DESIGNS and was looking forward to what it had to offer.

On “opening day” I watched the pilot ASAP to avoid my opinions from getting warped by all of the key-mash memes and post call-out bitching (literally the extremes of the HH opinion spectrum), and overall.....

I thought it was good.

Not ground breakingly amazing, not horrifically terrible, but charmingly good.

(Ok now it’s actual review time)

Animation Quality:

As a hand drawn animation that has the freedom to get creative with its shots, a lot of effort was clearly put into how everything moves (it definitely didn’t take any lazy flash puppet shortcuts for the main sections of the show) and I can appreciate that. However it tends to be... rather inconsistent, most likely due to the varying skill level of the animators on the project. It’ll be nice and smooth one minute, and then awkward and choppy the next which can make the viewing pretty confusing at times. I’ll be honest I found myself overlooking these inconsistencies due to the characters and backgrounds themselves being very visually engaging, especially considering how over designed some of them can be (which I applaud the team for handling cuz wow that must have been painful). However, the needle thin and exaggerated art style makes some things incredibly hard to look at. While it helps with adding fancy details, it hurts in catching peoples eyes in the right place.

It’s also chalk full of little details, visual gags, and references that are hilarious to look at if you have the luxury of pausing every two seconds (the news segment and Sir Pentious turf war w/ Angel and Cherri are good places to look). But I feel like these lil details were put in at the cost of some some continuity errors (Charlie not wearing her coat in one shot, and having it back on in the next, papers being blank, etc.) and lip-syncing issues which really shouldn’t be happening considering all of the detail they were able to put in. There are also some shots that have just SO MUCH detail put into them, only to be shown for less than a second. I get that’s the cost of animation sometimes, but save the detail for the shots that need it, because at that point you’re just causing the animators to waste their efforts.

However, I was surprised at how professional the soundtrack and editing was. Not one but THREE songs in this single episode was really surprising, and the variation and quality of each was great (as cringy as Charlie’s song is)

But overall, the production quality is surprisingly good for a project like this, the editing, sound effects, and sound track act like a cherry on top. Of course there are some noticeable drops in quality, but given time and a budget, it has enough chops to look like an actual show.

Writing:

As far as overarching plot goes, it seems like it’s going to be one of those procedural shows that tries to be serialised, but it’s a creative twist on hell and has an interesting premise to begin with. You can get really creative with seeing how you’d dive into getting redemption out of all of these seemingly lost causes, and I’m sure there are many people willing to know the backstories our main cast. As a pilot, it did it’s job of launching the plot very well, setting up the premise of the hotel and introducing characters in a very engaging way. I was legit really interested in each segment with who in introduced, and it didn’t feel like I was being overloaded with names to remember (which can be a problem for many medias and introductions). The cohesion between each scene is VERY smooth, and I genuinely enjoyed some of the cliché cuts/gags.

Unfortunately I can’t extend this interest to our main character. Charlie is one of the most generic tropes we’ve ever seen. She’s a boring Disney princess who has a “cute happy positive goal to change her world” and the only thing that would make her more generic is if she wore a dress and cried “I’m tired of being so privileged”.

(Although it’s impossible to tell, I honestly think Viv is just projecting through her, especially considering how horrifically accurate the hotel’s opening mirrors the internet’s reaction to the pilot itself)

I would be more forgiving if she was a supporting character or someone less important, but she’s the freaking protagonist, arguably the character that has to be the most interesting. Angel’s personality seems to be “flirty porn star”, and while that’s just as bad as being a boring Disney princess, at least he gets a few jokes and has a profession more interesting than Charlie’s. Around the end of the pilot he just seems like he’s getting involved because Viv likes giving him attention. If he’s supposed to be leeching off of the hotel, wouldn’t not care if it survives or not?

(There’s that whole stereotype issue that everyone keeps bringing up, but I genuinely think that’s BS because people are blatantly ignoring the fact that Angel is a porn star, Vaggie is portrayed as helpful, and that the show takes place in H E double hokey sticks.)

The transitions may be smooth, but the dialogue pacing can get really awkward at times. This paired with the animation sometimes having awkward quality drops makes some movements incredibly jagged, and has some detailed shots show for incredibly unbalanced screen time as mentioned before.

I don’t have enough to give voice acting it’s own section so I’m just popping it down here:

The voice acting is legitimately better than several big name projects I know. It’s consistent, great at expressing the character’s mood properly, and each voice fits each character perfectly. My only gripes are that Alastor and Sir Pentious tend to grain on you after awhile due to them keeping a single tone for too long.

Character Design: AKA the only thing I have legitimate experience with.

First thing’s first. The characters are WAY too over designed. There are so many markings and accessories that are incredibly unnecessary. I think the mindset for these characters was “the more complicated and attractive the better”, which makes them look like they’re designed by an edgy tumblr artist (heck I fall for this too some times).

Especially if a character is going to be animated, you have to keep in mind the value of simplicity. You absolutely don’t have to fill in your character with markings and trinkets to make them look unique, I mean just look at the gen 1 pokemon starters. Thanks to the limitations of the game, the sprites were forced to be simple, and it was that simplicity that made them such unique and varied creatures. You can tell Blastoise is a bulky water blasting turtle just with a quick glance.

Many of the characters suffer from over complication, but I’ll look at Husk for example. He has these stripes all over him that do not contribute to who he’s supposed to be at all, and only look like they’re added to make him more unique. The markings that DO help are the little card suite marks on his wings, because those at least infer he’s linked to a casino/gambling type of theme. I would say his outfit helps as well, but formal wear and bowties are worn way to often by the main characters, which brings me to another problem.

They may look different, but they feel way too similar. From the same skinny body type, to generic head shapes, to outfits, the focus characters just don’t stand out amongst each other. Even the ones with interesting features still suffer from feeling generic. I’d say Sir Pentious is a good example of this. He has a serpentine/naga body and clever hair style that make his concept really creative, but his skinny body type, complicated eyes all over his tail, and generic “young but supposed to be at least middle aged” face just push him back into obscurity. He’s even wearing the SAME outfit as Alastor (who's an even worse offender of that generic face problem), and unless Viv has some plan to link the two, I’d say the characters need to stop using a dress code.

A successful character design can to tell you who the character is just by looking at them. You should be able to tell if a character’s personality, function, age, the universe they belong in, and if they’re important or not, and that’s a big problem when it comes to the background characters. If you pause on one of the extras for a minute you can see all of the effort put into designing them, and that takes away so much attention from the main cast. Not only that, but they have actual variations in their body types and outfits, which makes them more intriguing than who we’re supposed to be interested in.

Regardless, this pilot has potential, and if they can get someone to comb out the flaws, you can end up with something good. No one can deny a legitimate animation was made here, and the team successfully executed the start of a story, and that’s something anyone can look up to.

TLDR: The pilot is good. It has some major flaws, but it has potential to be a good show.

If you actually read this far epstein didn’t kill himself.

#I'm only doing this cuz i wanna draw angel dust and i feel like I have to justify myself before ppl start calling me mean things #Fan art is coming ;)#hazbin hotel #HH is good yall just have a mob mentality #critique

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vicehectic · 4 years

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Vongola Vigilantes (5/?)

Based on this post I made a while ago, or you know, just this:

“…instead of Class 1-A and the Vongola 10th gen being the same age, the Vongola are a long established vigilante group that’s a pain in police’s and villain’s sides (most heroes either have neutral opinions or quietly agree with the Vongola) while Izuku loves them and is their number one fanboy.”

Parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / ?

Also on AO3

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“That was such a drag,” a voice complains, words muffled as the speaker talks into the couch he is lying in, “Did I really have to shadow those kids for two whole days just to figure them out?”

“Romeo,” a gentle, yet stern, voice prompts, “the information?”

Romeo lifts his head and stares into the orange painted mask, trying to decipher the expression behind it by just looking into his leader’s eyes. He rolls his eyes and lifts himself up into a sitting position, one arm slung over the leather couch and the other reaching up to the back of his ear. He uses a dull fingernail to gently peel off the corner of a sticker that had seamlessly melded to his skin and pulls it off with a grunt. “Here,” he says as he holds it out between his pointer finger and thumb, “It should all be there.”

A hand ruffles his dark spikes and Romeo slaps the hand away with a scowl. Giotto has the gall to just chuckle and move on, “G, if you will?” The gloved hands hold out the small object to the silver haired man. G silently takes the object and places it on the large table with a screen at the center of the room. Immediately the screen comes to life and the beginnings of a hologram appear in the space above the table. G’s ring clad hands type against the table and images and words manifest before their very eyes.

“Kufufu, now why were you so interested in these ducklings little Vongola?” Daemon slyly asks as he slides out of the shadows of the room to drape his arm against Giotto’s waist.

Giotto barely bats an eye as G raises a glock to Daemon’s head in warning, even as G still types with the other hand, speaking over the amused chuckle Daemon lets out as Daemon wisely pulls away from him, “My intuition was speaking to me.” Giotto head tilts, “You know what happens when I ignore it.”

“I think it’s interesting enough that Eraser didn’t expel any of ‘em,” Asari says good-naturedly, “He’s got a funny reputation y’know.”

“Well there is that,” Giotto agrees with a nod, raising a hand to scroll through the information as soon as G takes a step back, “With the information Spade gathered, we should know more than enough about these kids.”

Daemon lets out a low whistle, watching Giotto go through the faces without mercy - only taking a quick glance before continuing on, “Wasn’t that Endeavor’s youngest? Are you sure your intuition isn’t hinting that we take the little Todoroki for our own?”

Giotto stops his movements, the hologram stopped at a masked teen, and turns his head back to Daemon for a silent moment before turning back.

Daemon chuckles at the reaction but knows better than to speak up again.

“Extreme! He wants to be a hero even though he gets stomach aches from using his quirk!” Knuckle shouts excitedly as he stares at a blonde student smiling frivolously at the camera in his picture.

G scoffs, crossing his arms as he stands at the table’s terminal, “It’s foolish what it is. He’s going to get him or someone else killed if he continues like this.”

“Though,” Spade interrupts as she walks closer to the table, “he has a support weapon that allows him to control his quirk better. You never know.”

G glares at Spade, as Knuckle shouts in excitement about an extreme hero-to-be, for setting the white-haired man off as the final member of the room finally speaks.

“We’re here because you’re interested in an herbivore, omnivore,” Alaude growls as he steps forward, standing on his own side of the table, “Identify them.”

Just as Giotto gets to the end of the list of students he stops and blows the profile up.

“This is him?” Asari asks, his voice losing the humor it usually has.

At Giotto’s nod, Daemon snickers as he comments, “He’s rather scrawny for his age, isn’t he?”

“No.” Heads turn to Knuckle at his serious tone, watching as his eyes scan over the teen in the picture, “The oversized clothes hides it extremely well but there’s strength behind him.” Knuckle’s eyes shine with quiet excitement, “He’s worked hard to get to the point he’s at.”

“He’s right,” Spade agrees, her fingers playing idly with the end of her braid, “He’s the boy who destroyed the zero-pointer robot at the entrance exam with a single move.”

For a moment, the remaining members of the room are impressed.

“If I remember correctly, he’s also the kid that destroyed both his legs and an arm doing that,” Romeo calls out from his spot on the couch, his head bent backwards over the back of the couch so his Adam’s apple is on full display, “He also broke his pointer finger the first day I was watching them and got completely battered by his so-called childhood friend the next.”

Daemon, Knuckle, and Asari burst out into their own unique laughs as Giotto silently reads over the profile.

“Midoriya Izuku,” G reads quietly, “Living with his mother alone because his father works overseas… fifteen years old… that’s strange. It says here he only recently registered his quirk.”

Spade leans forward to read the information better, “Do you think he’s a late-bloomer?”

Giotto immediately shakes his head at her question but doesn’t say a word to explain himself.

“Omnivore, is this herbivore going to evolve one day?”

Giotto takes in the oddly phrased question that leaves Alaude’s mouth before turning and meeting Alaude’s gaze dead on.

“Yes.”

---

Read the rest on AO3

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #vongola vigilantes #katekyo hitman reborn

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tren-fraszka · 4 years

Text

Fandom F5k 2020

Dear creator,

Thank you for taking your time to check my requests. I know my requests can sound a bit tricky, but please don’t be discouraged. I wish you will have good time writing first and foremost!

My AO3 is Tren, if you wish to check it out.

Likes: comedy, casefics, canon compliants, AUs, time loops, bodyswaps, roleswaps, “being hoisted by your own petard” plotlines, snark, pettiness, rivals, enemies to friends to lovers, violence, friendships and character bonding,

DNW: explicit sex, A/B/O, mpreg, rape depicted as positive (so no “it’s okay, because the other person enjoyed it/it was what they truly wanted”), trans headcanons, soulmate AUs, stories ending with surrender to fate/destiny, fourth wall breaking in canons where that doesn’t occur, character has cancer or other real-life terminal disease AU, word “queerplatonic”.

Also, I included what ships I’m okay with in each fandom. Please do not include any ships that aren’t canon and I have not allowed in those sections (if you feel really strongly about a ship I haven’t mentioned, you can always ask through mods just in case).

Additionally, while I almost never request fanart as possible medium, because I prefer my main gift to be fic, I would be very okay with receiving fanart treats. On another note, feel free to use my old letters if you get your hands on them. I never stop being interested in fandoms, and if I requested something once I will still want it in the future.

REQUESTS

MARIMASHITA! IRUMA-KUN

I read new manga chapters as they get translated so feel free to incorporate anything from the manga that’s available in english. I’m not spoiled for anything beyond that, so please no spoilers for future developments.

Kiriwo Amy/Suzuki Iruma

There are many good ships with Iruma, but this one just has a lot things I like. I love enemy ships with both sides being way too emotionally invested into each other so this was inevitable. I love how this relationship starts as this really wholesome friendship and school festival preparation, except Kiriwo turns out to be a bit messed up and wants to blow up everyone. But then they both accept the outcome and go on with their lives still thinking about each other. Iruma goes through a lot of trouble to keep the club operating even though Kiriwo has been pretty much expelled. And then Kiriwo is now obsessed with Iruma as his anthitesis and perfect enemy.

I’m okay with the potential story happening at any point in the canon. I would love both a story set before the festival while Kiriwo is still hiding his true colors or a story set after festival. Maybe Iruma runs into Kiriwo somewhere after he escapes prison and instead of calling an adult, he tries to stop Kiriwo from causing trouble on his own. As for pre-festival story. Maybe some upperclassmen steal important parts from the club and Iruma and Kiriwo set out to get them back.

Naberius Kalego & Suzuki Iruma

I love Kalego for being a much better take on Snape than original Snape ever was. The second the series made Kalego Iruma’s familiar I knew this was about to get good. And it was. I love how Kalego slowly warms up to Iruma, even if he is still allergic to his and Sullivan’s antics. I love that Kalego is actually a competent teacher who cares about his students, even if he would rather eat a whole lemon than admit it out loud.

For prompts, maybe Sullivan ends up having an important business and Opera isn’t available so he dumps looking after Iruma on Kalego for a few days. Or Iruma is struggling with studying since so much is new for him so Kalego ends up forced to help him catch up with the material (if you are following manga inclusion of Balam is always welcome). Or maybe Iruma gets into usual trouble ends up stranded somewhere and the only one he can call for help is his familiar.

AUs and ships

I love the worldbuilding around the demon world, so I would ask that if you decided to write an AU that it still incorporates demons. I would definitely love an AU where rather than getting summoned to demon world, Iruma accidentally summons either Kiriwo or Kalego into the human world. Maybe Iruma’s parents try to use him as an offering, but instead he ends up bound to a demon. I would love to see Kiriwo excited to unleash suffering (even if his weak powers severely limit him in that regard) onto human world just to discover that he made contract with the biggest pacifist possible. Or Kalego being torn between wanting to return home as soon as possible (he has classes to teach!) and wanting to somehow help the weird human child that just keeps getting into trouble. Any other demon-focused AU is also welcome. I’m also fine with any sort of AU divergences scenario. Maybe Iruma keeps accidentally sabbotaging Kiriwo’s terrorist plans without realizing it. Or Iruma ends up summoning Kalego more often as his familiar when he gets into trouble.

As for ships, I’d rather avoid any love triangle scenarios for this canon, so please focus on just one pairing per character (competing for Iruma’s attention is normal for this canon, I’d just rather not see outright romantic competition). It’s self-explainatory for Kiriwo request, but if you want to include some shipping elements into the Kalego request I also ship Iruma/Ameri, Iruma/Alice and Kalego/Balam.

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

I read new manga chapters as they come out so feel free to incorporate any new developments.

Bakugou Katsuki & Uraraka Ochako

Bakugou Katsuki/Uraraka Ochako

I love how different the two of them, but at the same time how well they see through each other. I would love to have them work together while showing both great teamwork, but at the same time butting heads over their differences in worldview. I also love how they both acknowledge each other’s strength.

If you plan to write the ship version of this prompt: they are both very focused on becoming heroes, so I would prefer that they don’t just get together easily. I believe they would be both be extremely reluctant to do so, because of their line of work and media attention that heroes get. Still, I would love to see the tension between them where their professionalism fights against their feelings.

For prompts I would love having them complete some sort of exercise or exam together. I would love to see them pretend to be villains for the sake of exercise and Ochako surprisingly getting into the role, with occassional moments of her breaking out of it, which give everyone a whiplash. I feel like Bakugo would have amusing reactions to seeing her act so out of character. Or the work together on something for school festival. Like making a perferomance togater. Alternatively you can go for future fic where the two of them take part in an action to stop villains. Maybe one of them gets hurt which prompts the other to get very protective (and more honest about their romantic feelings if that’s what you are going for).

AUs and ships

I would very much encourage any future fics. I love seeing characters as fully-fledged heroes. I’m okay with other setting changes, though I would prefer for the competence aspect to still come in play somehow in them (with Bakugo being stupidly talented and hard working, while acknowledging Ochako’s potential). I’m also okay with canon divergences.

I don’t mind past Midoriya/Ochako if you want to incorporate it into the story, but I’d rather not get any love triangles for this pairing. Either have Ochako’s feelings sizzle out or have them date and break up at some point in the past. If you are writing gen version I’d rather neither Bakugou nor Ochako were being mentioned currently having feelings for anyone. When it comes to other pairings I like Midoriya/Todoroki, Mirio/Tamaki and Eraserhead/Mic.

MY NEXT LIFE AS A VILLAINESS (MANGA)

I only read manga for this story, so please don’t spoil me for the parts not yet adapted from Light Novel.

Group: Katarina Claes/Gerald Stuart (My Next Life as a Villainess)

I ran into this manga on accident, but I definitely don’t regret it. I love how Katarina ends up solving all the problems in this series either through her efforts or by sheer accident and how she ends up becoming the actual protagonist. This charmingly comedic story has a lot of heart and I crave more.

I think I like Gerard the most out of all potential suitors for Katarina’s heart and would love to see more of his crush on Katarina and unsuccessful attempts at actually wooing her. We only see him through Katarina’s perspective, who can’t separate him from the Gerard she knows from the game, even though he changed under her influence. I would definitely be up for a story where Katarina starts to notice that maybe her idea of Gerard doesn’t exactly line up with the reality. Or maybe she remains blessfully ignorant and decides to go in-depth investigation into finding more of Gerard’s weaknesses, because she saw him do something nice for Maria and now she is sure the end is near for her and she wants to be extra prepared. Or maybe he takes her on a vacation trip to escape from her other suitors, but everything goes terribly wrong (maybe their carriage crashes forcing them to spend the night in the woods), and yet both of them end up having a lot of fun.

I don’t mind including any other characters, since they are a colorful bunch. I read this manga for harem shenanigans, and you are free to include as much of it as you want.

AUs and ships

I’m okay with AUs and canon divergences. The story is already a huge canon divergence after all, so if you want to twist it even more, that’s fine by me. If you want to play around with characters accidentally getting transported to the alternate world where Katarina is the original Katarina or getting a glimps of it, I would be very much for it.

I’m okay with all canonical crushes being acknowledged, however due the nature of my request I want the endgame ship to be Katarina/Gerard. I don’t mind other characters being shipped with each other.

SWORD ART ONLINE

I haven’t read Alicization novels, just watched anime. I know anime skipped some content and if you want to use it in the story I’m fine with it, just make sure to establish the situation so I know what’s going on. However, I would be grateful for not spoiling the story from the novels that have yet to be adapted (you are free to use general worldbuilding from it, just don’t spoil major plot elements).

Eugeo/Kirito

I was perfectly fine with Asuna/Kirito becoming canon and then Eugeo came and made everything gay. Honestly, though, I love the interactions Eugeo and Kirito had and I would love to see more. Especially from their sword academy days where they had some peaceful time before they were brought to the tower. I want to know all the weird shenanigans they got into during that time, given how much like they acted like an old married couple. Or if you want something else then maybe some exploration of their struggles as they climb the tower. For example, a time loop taking place during their tower climb, with the system returning to the last save state each time Kirito dies to keep him alive.

AUs and ships

I don’t have any suggestions, but I don’t mind setting changes if that’s where you want to go. I’m also okay with Canon Divergence AUs of any kind. Especially, for ones changing the ending of first season. Like, I’m okay with sad gay we got, but there are so many possibilites to explore here other than what canon gave us. Maybe have Eugeo permanently fuse with his blade so Kirito ends up having a sentient sword boyfriend. Or he asks Cardinal to transfer her authority to him and have him oppose Administator as the new Cardinal. There’s just so many interesting ways this could have gone. I’m not big on the War of the Underworld plotline so you are free to handwave how the changes impacted it or modify that part of the story completely.

As I mentioned I’m okay with Asuna/Kirito ship, so if you want you can incorporate it in the story. Just make sure the focus stays on Eugeo/Kirito. I must also admit that I really can’t see Eugeo’s feelings for Alice as romantic, so I would prefer them to not be portrayed as such.

#exchange letters

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kikiofthevast · 5 years

Text

Fanfic I have downloaded on my phone

I do recommend all of these and read them fairly consistently.

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Sanders Sides

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A Lovely Night - Peter164

Summary:

Virgil has a boyfriend, a dramatic, over the top, self absorbed boyfriend. But his dad doesn't know. He asks for some help from a trusted adult. This trusted adult just happens to be his teacher. But it seems that there always has to be a secret boyfriend in the family when his dad starts dating.

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Ships: Prinxiety + Logicality

My Thoughts: Fantastic, and you can skip the smut chapters without missing anything. It's a good, pretty healthy, supportive romance on both ends and I love reading it, it's so nice.

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Powerless - patentpending (on Ao3) (Tumblr: @/impatentpending)

Summary:

“People like us,” Logan had once remarked to Virgil. “Are statistical anomalies.”

(Almost) Everyone in the world has powers. As for those who don’t, well, they’re such a small part of the population - only 0.04% - why would anyone care about them?

Ever since he realized what people mean when they call him Powerless, Virgil Sanders has tried to fight back against the system that oppresses people like him, Patton, and Logan. When Patton’s bakery is targeted in a hate crime, he finally snaps. With the help of a mysterious sponsor, Virgil becomes a villain, ready to remake a broken society. The only thing standing in his way is the world’s most Powerful (and infuriatingly charming) superhero: The Prince, who is hiding the fact that his gilded life isn’t as perfect as it may seem.

Genre: Angst

Ships: Prinxiety + Logicality (with background OC+OC)

My thoughts: Without a doubt one of the best fanfics I've ever read. The author likes to keep readers on their toes and surprise you around ever corner. Every part of the plot is well-executed and enjoyable, and you can feel the emotion of the characters.

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Horizons - triggermoreliketiger (I know they have a Tumblr but I don't know what it is)

Summary:

The life of Roman del Rey was planned to the bits. Born in a wealthy family he was supposed to take over his father’s business. His last moments of freedom? The journey abroad. He couldn’t have predicted that when he would come back, everything he knew was about to change.

On the opposide side of social ladder, the genius inventor- Logan Sanders was struggling to make it through another day. His only chance? Get himself a sponsor rich enough to fund another year of Logan’s work. He couldn’t know that his last chance would blew up right into his face.

Genre: Angst

Ships: Prinxiety + Logicality

My thoughts: Holy crap I love this fic so much you wouldn't even believe. I adore the way everyone is characterized and Virgil and Patton are probably my favorites on that front. Just go read it, you won't regret it.

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Patton's Break - Shay_Nioum (Tumblr: @/sidespromptblog)

Summary:

When Patton snaps one day, it directly affects Logan. A misunderstanding on Patton's part, and a broken heart on Logan's.

Genre: Angst

Ships: Platonic Logicality

My thoughts: I read this whenever I need to cry. It's such quality angst and I love it a lot. Logan is trying so hard, poor boi.

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Ace Attorney

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The Phantom's Curse - gen

Summary:

Everyone knows the story of the Phantom; usually mothers whisper it to their babies to get them to behave, or it's told around the campfires of travelers. What they don't know, however, is that it is very real, and the Phantom could be watching at any time, from any set of eyes.

Genre: Angst and Adventure

Ships: Wrightworth/Narumitsu

My thoughts: I'm a sucker for pirates. I love the way this fic was written and executed you you should go read it. Also: don't be me and waste time being suspicious of Kristoph because he ain't evil in this. Still a bit of an ass, though. All the references to the cases were nice and the whole plotline was just so fun and enjoyable.

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A Beautiful Thing - wrightgotwronged

Summary:

"The Girl was offering me a way out...and I was desperate enough to believe her,"

Private Inspector Phoenix Wright is given the case of a lifetime when the mysterious Dahlia Hawthorne walks into his office. With a missing girl and murder on his plate, Phoenix is caught in a whirlwind of confusion and deceit. His past coming back to haunt him in the form of the District Attorney doesn't seem to help either.

Genre: Angst and Mystery

Ships: Eventual Wrightworth (Brief Phoenix/Dahlia)

My thoughts: I adore this fic. It's got a good, substantial mystery, and though most people can predict some of the turns it takes, it's a fun ride and 10/10 would read again.

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Turnabout: Bloodline - MalikRuttingAssassinAss

Summary:

Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth collapses at work in the midst of a heated trial. What comes from his hospitalisation throws both his and Phoenix's worlds into mass confusion, exposing forgotten family secrets, a murder, and uncharted feelings.

Genre: Angst and Smut (with a side of Fluff and Comedy)

Ships: Wrightworth/Narumitsu

My thoughts: This is a fantastic storyline, Phoenix is also kind of an idiot for the first bit but it's still really entertaining and nice.

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The Turnabout of Hazakura - MalikRuttingAssassinAss

Sequel to Turnabout: Bloodline

Summary:

Losing patience with the so-called "gift" of his lineage, Miles Edgeworth, along with Phoenix Wright, seeks the tutelage of the Nuns of Hazakura temple. Whilst hoping to control his "gift" with a punishing endurance regime, a horrific murder is discovered within the Temple grounds, and the evidence points towards one person.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, and Smut

Ships: Previously established, also developing Phoenix/Miles/Simon

My thoughts: This fic is incredible and I agree with Miles on the reveal of a certain plot point, honestly. But the mystery is well-executed and I just love the inclusion of Shi Long Lang (even though I haven't played either of the Investigations games).

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sleep no more - prinsipe

Summary:

Blood is thicker than water.

Or: Klavier deals with the aftermath.

Klavier’s first memory of blood went a little like this: the turkey at the family dinner, the worn handle of the knife, and Kristoph’s brown hands.

In retrospect, it was those details that stuck out at him above all else—the family dinner, because it was the first and last of its kind, the worn handle of the knife because it made him think of how it looked like it was made for the grooves of Kristoph’s hands, and Kristoph’s hands because they moved in a way that made him think he was born for the kitchen, not the courtroom.

(Of course, as a child, it had slipped his mind that knives weren’t just used for cooking.)

Genre: Angst and minor Hurt/Comfort

Ships: Pretty Background Klapollo, implied past Daryan/Klavier

My thoughts: A very long but a very good fic. I love the way everyone is characterized, and honestly this is one of those stories that you get more out of it if you read it aloud. Klavier is just alone, and I love the way Apollo slowly helps him get back up.

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Damage Control - pantswarrior

Summary:

After an emotional reaction from Phoenix following Edgeworth's return, Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death in truth. Fortunately for Phoenix, he doesn't quite succeed - and both of them have to learn a few lessons about communication.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Ships: Wirghtworth/Narumitsu

My thoughts: This is such a good story, but things have to get worse before they get better so read the tags and proceed with caution.

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Lost in a Lie - court-ships (virtualbrownie)

Summary:

Miles Edgeworth learned to kill when he was a newborn, and he learns to love it at the age of six.

Genre: Angst and a bit of Horror

Ships: None

My thoughts: This is really dark, but I really like it and you should definitely proceed with caution. Warnings for character death, murder, animal death, and blood.

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Intermetamorphosis - Jessepinwheel

Summary:

Or: Five Times Miles Edgeworth Didn't Know What Was Wrong With Phoenix and One Time He Wished He Didn't.

Or: God dammit Phoenix, stop shoving evidence in criminals' faces, or at least invest in a recorder.

Or: The story where Phoenix dies, but that doesn't stop him from being an ace attorney.

Genre: Comedy and Angst

Ships: None

My thoughts: This story is ridiculous but it's the good kind of ridiculous. There's just something so bizzarely funny about this happening that you just laugh at Miles's ignorance. Okay, that sounds mean, but really Miles?

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Turnabout Santa Claus - lostangelssong

Summary:

A Christmas trial that could have been.

Genre: Comedy

Ships: None

My thoughts: It's literally just Miracle on 34th Street. That's all it is. But it's so gosh darn funny and ridiculous that I had to recommend it.

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The Rise and Fall of the Stalk Trucy Wright Club - SlashPrincess15 (slashprincess15)

Summary:

Trucy Wright is a weird girl who makes all sorts of claims that cannot possible be true, at least that's what her school's student population believe. It all changes however when she starts getting picked up from school again.

Genre: Comedy and Angst

Ships: None

My thoughts: Such a nice fic, honestly. It's pretty funny, and the interactions Trucy has with the people that come to pick her up are fantastic.

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The Realm - Farris

Summary:

It started off normal and innocent enough: a welcome home party for Iris.

But when a demon comes slashing through, bringing a world of ghosts and crazy with it, Maya Fey has no choice but to stand as Master to save her friends and restore balance to the Afterlife. Unfortunately, she's not Master yet. Nor is she sure she wants to be, given all that's happened to her and her family. Oh, and things only get worse when she discovers she must face a series of Trials to prove herself and her worthiness of said Master title.

Still very bitter about Kurain's role in DL-6, Miles Edgeworth finds himself having to come to terms with spiritual powers as he tags along to the realm between this world and the next. And then there are the monsters. And the gods, his father, and the Trials. Not to mention something is very much wrong with Wright... like the fact that he's not dead.

Genre: Action, Adventure, and Angst

Ships: None

My thoughts: Definitely in my top 10 favorite fics, if "A Beautiful Thing" is a 10/10, then this thing is off the scale. Also Gregory being a Good Dad™ deserves it's own book.

#logan sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #klavier gavin #apollo justice #fic recs #kiki talks #trucy wright

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meshkol · 5 years

Text

Title: A Quick Adjustment

Pairings/Relationships: Gen (Tony & Nebula)

Warnings/Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Tony has a quick adjustment to make on Nebula before they go on their Time Heist, just in the nick of time.

Notes: As usual, unbeta'd af. Fix-it #4 for that shitshow called Endgame. Y’know, because this is a glaring plot hole and Nebula or Tony would’ve pointed out the network issue. Also, I’m still mad. Fuck Marvel Studios.

###

“Hold up,” she hears from behind her, right as she’s stepping up onto the platform.

Nebula pauses, everyone before and behind her following suit, and they all simultaneously look at Tony, who looks like he’s swallowed a lemon. “What is it?” she hears Rogers say from his position, hands cocked on his hips and looking earnestly concerned. He generally always looks like that with Tony, she’s noticed, and from what she’s heard and read and seen from those two, it’s reminiscent of her own experiences with Gamora: too much distrust and self-internalised anger with a nice load of fear into the mix, leading to a turbulent relationship that had hurt and hurt and hurt until it had finally developed into some kind of shaky, but earnest peace.

Nebula doesn’t really know Rogers that well – her own research as well as Tony’s reactions to him from the moment they’d landed on Terran soil have coloured her own regard, and she’s not easily trusting anyway, so she’s always avoided him just so she didn’t kill him in second-hand revenge – but it’s been glaringly obvious that Rogers has been trying hard to bridge the gap. He really does remind her of Gamora, all perfect and favoured and unstoppable, but clearly reaching for common ground and affection regardless.

Tony doesn’t bother answering Rogers’ question, instead reaching out and putting a hand on Nebula’s shoulder. She’s used to his casual affection and absent touches from him now but she still jumps, instinctively trying to protect herself out of long-ingrained fear of abuse; he ignores it though, just like he always does, and like always, she’s appreciative that he’s not making a big deal about her weakness. He frowns and asks her directly without removing the hand, “You’re tapped into the network, yeah?”

Nebula narrows her eyes, unsure as to why he’s asking such an obvious question, and despite the reluctance of talking in front of all these freaks, she replies, “You know this – you’ve done my repair work.”

His frown deepens, and then he says with mock cheerfulness, “Well, looks we’re gonna have to delay this pow-wow for a few minutes while I fix something. Sit tight, everyone, and let me work my magic.”

“What’s going on, Tony?” asks Banner, even as Tony’s pulling her back down the platform until he’s guiding her to sit on a metal box full of spare parts and equipment.

Tony moves behind her and prods at the port in the back of Nebula’s head as he answers, “Well, she’s connected to wireless transmission signals, being a magnificent cyborg of Thanos-killing proportions—” Nebula’s lips quirk, feeling that same odd burst of warmth when he talks to her like she’s perfect just the way she is, and it’s not even facetious. He genuinely believes it, especially now that he’s upgraded her multiple times, and not even Gamora had given her that acceptance. Once again, she vows to annihilate anyone who so much as looks at Tony Stark wrong, and clenches her fists in an attempt to bleed out some of the energy and anger. “—but she’s primarily hooked into Thanos’s transmissions.”

Oh, she thinks, and fights down the urge to shudder at the implications.

She doesn’t flinch when he plugs something into her head and starts fiddling with her circuitry, and listens intently as he goes on in an absent ramble, “So, obviously, we know that Thanos is gonna send Gamora to Morag, which means that she’ll be in range of his deep space transmissions. Last thing we need right now is for him to catch wind that there’s another Nebula and hijacking her or something.”

“Damn,” Clint says, whistling through his teeth, and Nebula snorts. It’s always a bit annoying that they don’t see Tony the way she sees him, but she’s always liked Clint. They get along pretty well, the short time they’ve known each other, and they’re pretty similar in a lot of ways: unwilling to trust easily, quickly angered despite knowing better and regretting it afterwards, and a chip on their shoulder a star system wide, not to mention the burning need for vengeance against Thanos.

Tony does something that makes Nebula’s entire body twitch, eyes flashing with white before it stabilises, and then he shuts the doors on her head with a pat and squeeze of her shoulder. “All good over here. Closed down her wireless systems and putter on a closed-circuit that’s localised on private Avengers comms. I’ll switch you back on when we’re back. Feeling alright?”

“Yes,” she says shortly, standing up, and together they join the others, ready to take that last step to victory and vengeance.

###

They stabilise Bruce as the reports start coming in and phone calls are made.

Tony arranges so many things simultaneously – quinjet for Clint, Rogers’ means to return the stones, the rides for everyone commuting back to see loved ones, another quinjet for some stranger named May to head upstate, the Benatar being enlarged for the Guardians after they talk to the wizard about the Soul Realm,an entire medical team from some far-away place to assist Banner on ‘healing fast’, so many things, working and working and working so hard to help everyone even though no one even thinks to help him too. Nebula tries, even though she knows that the other Guardians are watching her both incredulously – she’s not the helping type – and impatiently – Strange had confirmed that the stones couldn’t be destroyed, only dispersed, else the entire universe would have fractured and imploded, which means that they needed to get the Soul Stone again so they could save Gamora and Romanoff from the Soul Realm. There’s not really a lot she can do, but she does all she can, from calling Pepper and Morgan (she would die for either one of them too) and making sure he eats something. He always smiles at her, and she wonders if this is what having a father is supposed to feel like. It’s not like she has good experiences with the being who stole her from her home planet, after all, and she hadn’t known her biological father before that.

“You leaving me already, Major Kusanagi?” he says when he has a lull to himself, sitting down and tearing into the dead cow thing that she’d managed to muster up. She’s not a person who cooks, and she hadn’t known how to ‘order in’, so she figures it’s a terrible excuse for a ‘cheeseburger’, but he had talked about them enough on the Benatar when they’d both been starving, and she knows it’s his favourite thing. He doesn’t seem bothered by it, eating it with gusto, and she’s—she’s happy she can do this little thing, when he’s done so much for her without an iota of fear or pity or disappointment or ultimatums.

She would burn the universe down for him, no doubt about it.

“Yes,” she says, looking at her fingers, her left arm shiny and new now that he’s repaired her (just another thing he’s done in the past twelve hours since Banner’s snap), and continues hesitantly, “Thank you. For everything.”

“You need anything, and I’ll be here to lend a hand,” he replies quietly, grasping her forearm with the hand that isn’t holding the charred, lumpy thing she’d cooked for him. “You’re family now, and you’re always welcome back here on this little blue planet if and when you want.” He pauses for a second, and then says so quietly it’s almost a whisper, “You’re an amazing person, Nebula, and don’t let anyone tell you differently. You’re perfect, and fuck anyone who says otherwise. Send ‘em to me and I’ll piss on the bits you leave behind, okay?”

Nebula feels such an intense burst of fierce, surprising love that she swallows her natural aversion and nerves so she can pull him into an awkward, stilting hug. He doesn’t even freeze or tense up, simply hugs her back, and she all but melts into this odd, Terran custom that’s...nicer than she would’ve expected.

She pulls away with a huff, refusing to make eye contact out of embarrassment and self-irritation, and he laughs as he pats her on the shoulder, giving her a wink as he swallows the last bite of the atrocity she’d made.

She turns on her heel and walks away without looking back, knowing that the next time she sees Tony Stark, she’ll be bringing Romanoff home where she belongs.

They have all the time in the world now.

###