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#there is plenty of chars i would also tag here....
alt-2077 · 1 year
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Could you do a Rebecca x female reader pls?
Rebecca w/ a fem s/o
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chars. rebecca w⚠️. fem!reader, cuteness, guns genre. fluff, headcanon wc.  470+ note. i'm back. i'm gonna attempt to try and finish what other requests I have hopefully. Also, apologies about the way I write in this, it seems have change eheh..
Absolutely adores you.
Is super clingy and basically around you 24/7. She's always curious about what you're doing sometimes too. Never lets you do anything by yourself. Unless you tell her to stop ofc. It's not because she constantly wants to be around you (it kinda is), but she's also worried about you. She knows what can happen in NC and would hate for you to become another statistic.
I'm sure if you at least reassured her every now and then and contact her if you're away, she'll probably lay off a little bit. I'd say it's more of a phase thing. If something happens when your close, she goes back to being protective of you, then you talk to her about it and rinse and repeat.
If you're a fellow edgerunner though, I think it'd decrease a good 15%.
Dates are quite the must. Especially movie nights. I don't think she'd be the kind to say no to dining out (usually at fast food chains) or anything like that.
Of course, it's not only Rebecca that you'll be around most of the time, it's also most likely gonna be Pilar too.
I'm sure if you complain about his attitude or anything to Rebecca, she'll put him in line. Probably with a gun (Threatening ofc, not killing him).
She's a very playful person don't be surprised if she randomly pokes you, yells tag, and runs off.
Or maybe even a game of hide and seek here and there. She gets into the most difficult spots due to her small stature. It's very surprising what she can fit into sometimes.
Definitely steals your clothes. She always looks tiny in them, and it really is too cute.
She's quite the jealous person. Make sure you don't give someone else a bit too much attention, she may or may not give you 10 minutes of silent treatment if she feels you've "ignored her" for a bit too long.
It's obviously not gonna last too long since she struggles to even go a second without any of your attention.
When your safety is threatened, she can get fairly serious (but in a way still her crazy self). It's almost scary.
Will go to the ends of the earth to make sure you're protected as it shows above.
Loves gifts plenty. Whether it's receiving or giving. Anything you give her, she cherishes a lot and would get super upset if it ever got lost or broken. Anything she gives you, (is most likely stolen) are quite expensive things, you tend to take extra care to make sure nothing happens.
Probably has a habit of touching you in affectionate ways, either by playing with your clothes, hair, or ears.
She also kisses you. Like. A lot. Almost impossible to go a full day without getting kissed by her somehow.
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rocknrollsalad · 4 months
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Steddieholidaydrabbles: Day Six - Cooking Together AND Steddimas - baking and cookie decorating
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🍪 Scott Clarke is not a baker. A fact he's learned the hard way. Though it's HOURS too late, he enlists the help of Steve and Eddie because what's Christmas without a gingerbread house, right?
🥼 content/trigger warnings: food
🧑‍🍳 word count: 1457
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Eddie wasn’t the go-to guy for help. No one he knew looked at their address book and said “Yeah, Eddie Munson is the number I’m gonna dial”. It should have been! He was always helpful and knew how to do plenty. Something he proved time and time again when he was the last resort. Not the “I’m going to call Eddie for help” but the “well, Eddie is here so I might as well ask him too” sort of thing. 
A fact he’d grown used to. At least until he found himself partnered up with Steve Solves-Everyone’s-Problems Harrington. People called him for everything. Major problems, minor problems, someone else’s problems, those in Steve’s life didn’t need an address book; they had his number memorized. 
Dating Steve did change the number of phone calls Eddie received, the calls were still for Steve but now the Munson household was the first stop in getting ahold of Hawkins's own wonderboy. Eddie would hate it so much more if Steve didn’t like up like Times Square every time he was needed. 
Then Steve went and made it worse by saying it was the only thing he had to offer. He wasn’t ever going to be able to help with homework or remember the weird names of all those elves but he could drive them places and sit with them when they were scared. He could fix a car, change a hard to reach light, or pick a few things up from the store. 
As painful as it was that Steve thought those were his only skills, it actually had Eddie pushing their mutual friends at Steve more. Make the boy feel important please, no one has needed him in days. Eddie also stayed out of the way. He didn’t tag along or offer his two cents. 
Eddie wasn’t sure of his place in this group yet but “the helping hand” was already taken. They had their Swiss Army friend, ready to fix anything that was broken. A talent that crossed friendship lines when Scott Clarke called in a panic, opening with a desperate cry for help. Eddie did what he always did and passed the phone off to Steve. 
Like so many other “emergencies”, this one wasn’t life or death. Scott wasn’t part of the crew who’d literally stared down death or saw the pits of hell, he was allowed to be dramatic about it, but a…cookie emergency seemed like a problem the Care Bears should solve. “Oh no, we’ve put too much sugar in the cookies and ruined the bear's birthdays, golly gee, what are we going to do?” 
Bake some new cookies. Buy some from the store. There were so many answers that weren’t "enlist Steve and Eddie like it was some sort of national crisis". 
Of course, Steve wasn’t in agreement and spent the whole time Eddie looked for clothes to change into pacing the doorway, desperate to get out there and help someone who needed it. Which didn’t speed Eddie up any.
Steve felt weird going over to Scott’s alone. The amount of times he repeated “he was our teacher” almost went past annoying and into endearing. Scott wasn’t their teacher now, he was some lame-ass guy trying to impress Wayne with baked goods. A dumb waste of time because why would Wayne be impressed by anyone’s baking ability? He once ate an entire birthday cake Eddie burnt that one year. Without a single complaint. 
However, an emergency might have been an understatement. 
Scott ushered them into a gingerbread warzone. Complete with broken men and women lining the battlefield. Some house pieces were both solid and liquid, others were charred to a crisp, nothing made sense and every surface was covered with something. 
Both Eddie and Steve stood on the only clean kitchen tiles with their jaws on the floor. Scott had clearly given up on aprons, there were a few among the mess, and his 1979 science fair tee was unreadable in spots. Flour handprints were all over his pants, along with crusted gingerbread batter, and Eddie didn’t know whether to laugh or get the man a drink. 
“It’s just science, right? It’s a chemical reaction. You measure carefully, pay attention to what you’re putting in, and add heat. I think actual rocket science would be easier.” Shoving his hands through his hair, a path they’d clearly taken a few times, Scott tried to find something close to composure. 
He wasn’t upset he couldn’t impress Wayne, he was bothered he got the formula wrong. This was the scientific process letting him down and it’d driven him to madness. Eddie wondered how many failed attempts there were hidden in here and what on Earth made him call for their help. 
“No. Well yes, but it’s more than that,” Steve said with a soft confidence Eddie had never heard from him. 
The tone slowed Scott too, he was willing to entertain whatever Steve had to say. 
“You guys aren’t going to like the rest of it. Just let me try it out, it’ll be fine.” 
Eddie muttered a quiet “What” and looked at Steve. Getting a “don’t ask” stare that ensured Eddie would absolutely ask. He’d be patient enough to get Scott out of the room but that was about it. 
He thought getting Scott out of the room would be harder but he heard Steve offer to try, threw his hands up, and said, “I’m going to take a shower, kitchen is yours.”
For a full minute, Steve and Eddie stood in silence. Listening to Scott move through his house, still throwing a mild temper tantrum as he did. Eddie could only imagine the amount of exasperated scientist mumbling that was going on. 
Once they felt they were in the clear, they let out a joint sigh and Eddie said. “Ho-ho-holy shit I thought he was going to stand over our shoulder and, like, grade you as you cooked or something.” 
“Given the bar he set, it wouldn’t be hard to get a passing grade.” 
That wasn’t kind and Eddie laughed for that reason. Mixed a bit with how truthful it was. They were staring down a ton of wonderful-smelling carnage. Much like the gingerbread people in the sink, Scott didn’t have a leg to stand on. 
“Plus, who said I’m doing all the work?” Steve asked. 
“Oh, me. I said you were because you’re the one with cryptic answers about what it takes to make a good cookie.” 
“It’s not cryptic, I just didn’t want to listen to you and Scott mock me for the rest of time,” 
The comment was followed by Steve’s trademark huffy little pout that Eddie loved. Arms crossed, he defended himself and braced for impact. Though his walls were made of cotton candy and the castle was guarded by two cardboard cutouts. Steve was horrible at this stuff. 
And Eddie was persistent. He pressed into Steve’s space, enough to cause him to lose balance a little. Finding a stronger stance, Steve looked anywhere but at Eddie. Still, Eddie could see the smile. He’d made a few missteps on when to press for Steve to say things he was holding in but the lights were all green here. 
Doing his best to look cute and innocent, something Eddie had likely never been, he lowered himself enough to have to look up at Steve. “We’d never mock you, for anything,” Eddie said. 
“Yeah, well I’m still not telling you,” Steve raised his nose in the air, looking away. 
As much as Eddie knew saying “I love you” for the first time was supposed to be some big memorable moment, it was little ones like these that always threatened to steal that from him. Standing in a mess that was likely making Steve’s skin crawl, creating something to bicker about, and playing their parts so perfectly comical. That’s so much better than some fancy dinner they’d never have or a beach vacation they’d not go on. 
“Fine, I’m going to go add some more burnt cookies to the pile. Since I don’t know the secret to it,” Eddie mocked as he pulled away and went deeper into the kitchen. 
Steve was so hot on his heels they almost collided. “Look, I know you can’t exactly do worse but lemme do this okay? I got it.” 
“I do really like the challenge of doing worse.” 
“Yeah, I regretted that as soon as I said it. You absolutely could do worse.” 
“Thank you. That’s so sweet of you to say,” Eddie cooed.
“Who knew Scott was this bad though,” Steve said with a judgemental stare around the room. 
“Wanna know something? A real secret?” 
Eddie leaned in close and whispered through a giggle, “Wayne hates gingerbread.” 
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autumnslance · 2 years
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I have a question about Aeryn. I want to have my own personal WoL to focus on improving my writing however, I’ve been warned that having a personal WoL is not recommended. I have a RP character and was suggested to write for her, but I fear I’ll turn her into my personal WoL and lose her RP backstory. How do you write for a personal WoL and write also for your RP characters?
I don't actually "RP" at the moment in Final Fantasy XIV; maybe a few incidental scenes or collaborations here and there with my FCmates, but all my stories have been fanfiction for the most part. My roleplay mostly comes during tabletop games with my friends (either actual table or virtual).
I dunno why anyone would "warn" you it's inadvisable to write your own Warrior of Light. The game is literally set up to have your character be just that. It's like a Bioware game insofar as we each get our own Warden, Shepherd, Revan...in this case, Warrior of Light.
(We just don't get the branching pathways of a single player Bioware game cuz it's an MMO so story's on rails)
I know some folks who have their roleplay version of their character that is a separate entity and story from the Warrior of Light version of the character. I know some folks who only have a Warrior of Light and don't worry about roleplay. And I know some folks who have a roleplay character but they do not consider the MSQ canon for that character.
For me, I just run Dark, C'oretta, and Iyna through MSQ to enjoy it. Dark is always the one through content first so I can get my own reactions and feelings out of the way. I write backstory info for those alts, and little side adventures and interactions, and maybe their reactions to world events as they help the actual WoL. Theoretically, I can slot them into any player WoL's story, but for the most part, I write them as adventuring friends of my WoL. So I can RP them if needed, and write them as secondary characters in my fics, and so on.
After Dark's been through MSQ, then I run Aeryn through, having had time to see it all and think about it. I take my time and save quest text and her responses and interactions, and if I want to change up anything, and how.
When I started writing for a WoL, I did a generic unnamed WoL first; sometimes not even ID'ing their gender, but more often leaning on "she" since I tend to write women OCs, and eventually named Aeryn in those blurbs as I figured her out and gained some confidence in not just my at-the-time-rusty writing, but also in her characterization and how it was evolving.
If you want to write a personal Warrior of Light, do it; there are plenty of examples of WoL stories and writing out there. Especially if you want to keep your RP character entirely separate to preserve her collaborative storylines. Though it sounds like there may be folks wanting more info about your RP character too, hence them wanting you to write about her stories.
But honestly...write what you want! Tag and put behind cuts as needed. Make up a new WoL, whether actually in game or just in your head. Or make an alternate hero version of an existing character. Do some backstories and solo stuff for the RP char--or don't if you're not feeling it. There's no limit or requirement, regardless of what random or even well-meaning folks tell you.
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comicgeekscomicgeek · 2 years
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Their Hero Academia - Chapter 90: Of Fire, Wings, and Things
Continuing my nextgen MHA fic!
Earlier chapters can be found here or by searching the “their hero academia” tag.
Tartarus was not a good place.  It never had been, and even with various protests and civil rights challenges over the years, it had not improved dramatically.  Shoto was reminded of this every time he had to talk to prisoners there. It was an uncomfortable truth and an awkward balancing act that nearly every Hero of any substantial standing had to reckon with.
Super-human society made containment of prisoners difficult.  Containment for every prisoner had to be accounted for individually, with unique countermeasures for their Quirks.  There was no one size fits all method of imprisoning Villains.  People had tried to develop suppressors for Quirks and some had even tried to weaponize them, but the few drug-based methods were not only short lasting, but wrecked such havoc on a person’s systems that long term use had been deemed unethical.
His brother was, by all reports, a model prisoner.  He had, after all, turned himself in with the idea of protecting his then-unborn daughter.  A deranged murder he may have been, but he had been smart enough to know that Toga was perhaps the most unfit mother on the planet.  Their father’s fall from grace and forced retirement some years later had taken further wind out of his sails.  
Some part of him was never sure what to call his brother.  Toya was the name he had been born with, of course, but Shoto scarcely had any memory of him that way.  But Dabi was the name of an enemy, one who had tried to kill him and his friends countless times.  And Dabi was the name he had chosen for himself.
Dabi’s cell was afforded a bed, a chair, a table, and even a small supply of books.  There was also a very advanced fire suppression system built into it.  The kind that smothered a fire by denying it oxygen, rather than one that tried to put it out with water.  If the temperature ever rose above a certain point, they would activate and not only put out his flames, but knock him out as well.  Or potentially worse, depending on how he resisted.
His brother looked up from the book he was reading, The Meta Liberation War.  The book was controversial; Shoto wondered how he’d managed to be allowed a copy. “Well, if it isn’t the favorite,” he taunted. “To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the great Shoto?”
The two of them had never talked much.  Regular visitors weren’t something Tartarus allowed.  And Tartarus didn’t exactly lend itself to friendly conversations.  Shoto wasn’t really sure what he could ever have said.  Trauma and worse had made his brother a very, very damaged individual.  
Shoto frowned and got straight to the point.  “There’s been a sighting.  Of Rei.”
The book fell from Dabi’s hands and hit the door with an audible thud.  The guards, flanking either side of the cell, instantly went for their weapons, though neither pulled their guns from their holsters.  Both eyed Dabi warily.  Shoto could feel the temperature rising, even through the glass.  A mechanical sound alerted him to the fire-suppression system powering up.  
Dabi walked towards the glass, putting his hands on it.  Shoto could see small flecks of blue flames dancing over his charred skin.   “Tell.  Me.  Everything.”
***
The guards had brought Dabi to an interrogation cell.  He was restrained, hands behind his back, plenty of ceiling-mounted guns trained on him, with fire suppression systems built into the room as well.  Shoto didn’t think he’d have been a threat even with them.  The fight had gone out of his brother years ago.  He’d never stopped hating their father, of course, but without a target for all his rage…
Their third year of U.A. had been perilous.  All for One had broken free of Tartarus and Tomura Shigaraki had rallied his League of Villains against society like never before. Dabi and all the rest had never ceased in their efforts to bring about social upheaval.
Shoto did not know and did not care to think about what kinds of circumstances might have led his brother and the serial killer named Himiko Toga to fall into bed together, let alone conceive a child.  By all accounts, the conception was an accident.  But his brother had let on that the madwoman had turned dangerously clingy upon finding out, making plans to be ‘one big, happy family.’
His brother was many things: murderous, revenge-obsessed, a user of people.  But he was also capable of recognizing when too much was too much.  And after his own upbringing, he had been loath to expose any child of his own to danger.  He had made a deal with the authorities, turning himself in, but offering information on the League for leniency. Without that information, things might have gone far worse.  The revelation of his identity had been a major shock, even though it had been kept from the public at large.  His father’s abuses had been allowed to stay hidden then, for the so-called “good” of society.  
“If I were a shitty dad like Endeavor, I wouldn’t have cared about my kid and just got on with my crusade.  But I’m not him.  So I had to do the opposite of what he would.”
And that had been the end of All for One and Tomura Shigaraki, who had fought to the death.  The others were more scattered.  Gigantomachia was being studied, last he knew, in a lab somewhere in the Arctic Circle.  Doctor Ujiko had been executed for crimes against humanity. Mister Compress was still serving time in a slightly less high security facility.  Twice had been confined to a mental institution, deemed incompetent to strand trial.  Toga was, unfortunately, still out there killing people; they’d get sightings every now and then, but she was stupidly good at evading Heroes and the police.  Spinner had somehow become inspired by Izuku’s heroism and Stain’s declaration of him as All Might’s true successor and served his time quietly, now an advocate for Mutant rights.  And Kurogiri was in a hospital, never expected to regain full awareness.
Shoto held the pictures up against the glass.  They were blurry, but they showed Rei, in her red and black leather costume, with a woman dressed much like Mister Compress had.  And they were lucky to have that much.  They’d done a disturbingly good job evading I-Island’s security systems.
“This is I-Island, a few weeks ago,” Shoto said.  “Digital enhancement confirmed Rei’s identity, but the other woman’s mask makes identifying her difficult.  Did Mister Compress ever mention a daughter?”
Dabi chuckled at that, but Shoto noticed he didn’t take his eyes off the pictures.  “What, you think the old magician and I were buddy buddy?”  He rubbed his chin, carefully avoiding the staples.  “He did say he was training a protege once.  Didn’t ask about a name.  Probably her.  Why don’t you ask him?”
“Trust me,” Shoto said.  “It’s on my list.”
Dabi finally tore his eyes from the picture.  “She looks healthy,” he said after a moment.
“She’s killed thirty people that we know of.”  That got a laugh out of his brother, though Shoto didn’t know what was so funny.  
“But you didn’t just bring those here to show me what she’s been up to,” Dabi said.  “Or to ask about her new friend.”
Shoto shook his head.  “You’re right.  From what we’ve been able to piece together, she and the Compress-like woman did something on I-Island.  There was a theft and other mayhem that we can lay at their feet, but the word is that they had a run in with thugs working for Chernabog, that left the thugs dead.  Chernabog’s looking for them..”
His brother’s eyes widened.  Even having been locked up for nearly two decades, he understood what that name meant.  
“We’ve also heard whispers that there’s a new League of Villains.  Not like that group who tried to trade on the name.  Viruses, Nomu-robots, technology thefts… they’re organized and planning… something.  Is there anyone, any ally, anything you didn’t tell us about already?  Anyone left who might be trying to keep your nightmarish dreams alive?”
Dabi shook his head, his eyes looking very haunted.  “No,” he said firmly.  “I told you everything.  That was the deal.  And you all still couldn’t keep my daughter safe.”
Blue flames started to break out along his skin again.  “You find her, dammit!  Those Russian bastards will kill her!  Find her!”
The fire suppression systems kicked in.  Dabi struggled to stay conscious, flames flickering until they could burn no more. In moments, the flames were gone and his brother was out cold.
Shoto sighed.  He’d learned almost nothing.  And yet it had still gone better than he’d thought it would.
***
A section of the warehouse had been partitioned into a small room, well-furnished with a massive desk and an even more massive chair behind it, and overstuffed bookshelves. The room was mostly dark, lit only by the flickering light of multiple televisions on the wall opposite the desk.  The two guards in the room were largely perfunctory, meant to intimidate.  Not that the man seated in the large, ornate chair needed any help.  
Two other guards dragged a small, crying man into the room.  He was openly weeping and it looked like he had possibly soiled himself.  
“<Do you know,>” the man behind the desk began, speaking in Korean, “<why they call me Big Poppa?>”
The prisoner tried to scramble to his feet, but the guards kept him on his knees.  He turned his head rapidly, looking for a way out.  One of the guards hit him with the butt on his rifle.  “<The boss asked you a question.>”
The man, seeing no other options, looked up.  “<They say… they say it is because your whores know who is in charge!>”
The mood in the room somehow became even chillier.  The man behind the desk chuckled.  It was a cruel sound, the kind that precipitated acts of violence.  Still chuckling, he stood.  He was a huge man, easily the size of Tentacole or Gale Force, if not bigger, and solidly muscled.  He was dressed in red silk pants, with a furry red coat trimmed with white fur.  His chest was bare, his skin blue, and his beard full and white.  In his left hand, he gripped a gold cane topped with a ruby.
The man called Big Poppa came out from behind his desk and stood in front of the prisoner and took his face in one meaty hand.  He made sure that the prisoner was looking him in the eye.  “<They call me that because I make sure the girls who work for me are well-taken care of.  And because I don’t tolerate anyone mistreating them.>”
The man began to shake.  The threat was very clear.
Which meant it was time for Hitoshi to act.
His Capture Cloth shot out first, wrapping around the prisoner’s midsection.  As Hitoshi dropped from the rafters, the man went up, safely out of the way for the moment. Hitoshi landed and instantly went into action, slamming a fist into the nose of one of the guards, rocking him back, and a quick kick to the solar plexus disabled the other.  
There was a tense moment as the other guards went for their guns, but Big Poppa held up a hand.  “Well, well, well,” he said, now speaking Japanese.  “To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the Voice?”
“Information,” Hitoshi said.  “Preventing a murder was just a bonus.”
Big Poppa chuckled again.  “Oh, I was never going to kill him.  He can’t warn others if he’s dead.  But I was going to break  some bones.”
Big Poppa was of Korean origin and ran several local underground brothels and other illicit businesses.  But the thing was, his earlier statement had also been true.  He absolutely opposed sex trafficking, having even passed on information to the police and Heroes in the past or even taking direct action against his less ethical competitors, and everyone who worked for him did so because they genuinely wished to.  He was a criminal, to be sure, and had definitely done numerous things that he should be in prison for.  But he was also a valuable resource for Underground Heroes like Hitoshi, especially in some of the immigrant communities.
“Consider him scared,” Hitoshi said.  He didn’t bother trying to use his Quirk.  It wouldn’t get him any information anyway, and Big Poppa was incredibly strong willed.  Instead, he got down to business.  “Weapons from your country are coming into this one.  But not to the usual sources.  I know gunrunning isn’t your thing, but I do know people talk.  Especially in more… intimate moments.”
Big Poppa stared at him, stroking his beard.  “Gun warfare’s bad for business,” he said.  “People don’t feel like going out, having a good time, when they could get shot.  I haven’t heard anything, but I’ll see what I can find out.  Usual information drop?”
“Yes,” Hitoshi replied.  “I’ll check at our regular time.”
Big Poppa relaxed slightly.  “How’s that boy of yours?  Heard he was front and center when all that shit went down.”
It took an act of will for Hitoshi to hide his surprise.  He hadn’t thought anyone had heard about Shota like that.  “He’s fine,” he said.
“Good, good,” Big Poppa said.  “Got a dozen or so kids of my own, you know.  Kids’re the future.  Got to treat them right.”  
He looked up.  “Suppose you’re taking this one?”
Hitoshi nodded.  “Legally obligated to, since I prevented an assault.”
Big Poppa’s eyes narrowed.  “He tried to use a knife on Aera,” he said.  “He’s lucky I wasn’t going to kill him.”
Hitoshi held up under the gaze.  “I think he’d rather confess than face your wrath.”
“Good enough,” Big Poppa said.  “Get him out of here before I stop going soft.”
***
Hawks was, in a word, bored.  Ever since he’d been appointed the Deputy Commissioner of the Hero Public Safety Commission, he’d spent  a lot of time being bored.  
Appointed.
More like kicked upstairs, really.  Between the League of Villains revealing the details of the Hatamoto Program that had created people like him and Lady Nagant more than twenty years ago and Endeavor’s ultimate fall from grace almost a decade after that, the Commission had been desperate to still appear in control and strong.  Putting someone like him who’d been a victim of its excesses in a high position of authority had been a sop to the public that everything was going to be okay.  But for the most part it was a meaningless title with few actual responsibilities and way too many meetings.
Of course, the grand irony of his being trapped in a meaningless position and too many meetings was that he was the one who had always dreamed about a world where Heroes had “too much free time.”  At least he’d lived to see that much.  Heroes were raising families in record numbers, Villain crime was down, and faith in the Pro-Hero system was at an all time high.  
He even had a daughter of his own.  Another thing he’d never expected.  Especially when you considered that he and Rumi had incompatible orientations, what with her being a lesbian and him being ready, willing, and able to hit on anything that moved.  But she’d wanted a family and he was one of her best friends and, well, it’d all worked out.
None of which changed the fact that he was bored.  He’d tried tossing his pen up into the air and catching it, but even with his eyes closed, his reflexes and intuition were just too good.  There was no challenge in it.
The intercom on his desk crackled to life.  “Mister Hawks?” his secretary asked.  Getting her to call him Hawks had been a struggle.  But he’d called himself that for so long, he barely remembered who Keigo Takami was.  “There’s an angry pomeranian here to see you.”  A pause, then, “I mean, Ground Zero is here to see you.”
Hawks chuckled.  He’d hired her specifically because she was 95% attitude by volume.  He needed at least one person other than Rumi who didn’t kiss his ass.  And also because she was highly competent and was both his professional and personal secretary.  Because, according to Rumi he was “incapable of running his own life.”  So what if he forgot to pay a bill or three sometimes?  Or had to eat cereal out of a frisbee because he didn’t have any clean bowls or real food.  Or once had to send some of his feathers out with cash taped to them to buy new pants because he couldn’t remember when he’d last done laundry.  Or how to do laundry.
It didn’t mean he was helpless!
“Does he have an appointment?” he asked.
“He does, actually.  I put it on your electronic calendar.”
Hawks looked guiltily at his computer, which was open to a game of Solitaire. 
“And put a note on your desk.”
Where had she…?  Ah, over there.  He’d put the other stack of papers he was ignoring on it.
“Well, send him in.”
If nothing else, this ought to be fun.
***
“Ah, Ground Zero,” Hawks said as Katsuki stormed into the room.  He was smiling, that same laid back, disarming smile he always used.  The one that he used to put civilians at ease and gladhand other Heroes.  It just pissed Katsuki off.  “What can I do for you?  And can I get you some water?  Some kind of snack?”
“Don’t try any of that stuff with me, you damn turkey,” he growled.  “I’ve got a bone to pick with and I’m not above throwing you out that window.”
Hawks chuckled.  “You do remember I can fly, don’t you?”  He grinned again.  How exactly had Endeavor not killed this guy during all the times they’d worked together?  Katsuki remembered why he’d usually avoided Hawks.  
Dammit, why had he said that?  “Yeah,” Katsuki snapped, “but it’ll make me feel better.”
Hawks shrugged.  “If it’s all the same then, I’d rather you didn’t.  I’m not as young as I used to be.”  He turned off the charm just a little, standing a little straighter, dropping the false smile. “In all seriousness, what can I do for you?  I don’t get a lot of visits from Heroes in the field, on medical leave or otherwise.”
 Katsuki had to make himself remember that for all his bravado and the irritation he caused, Hawks was dangerously intelligent, with actual intelligence training.  He couldn’t afford to slip up here or let his guard down.  “Seung Park,” he said.  No point in dancing around it.
Hawks tilted his head slightly, blinking those weird ass eyes of his.  “Am I supposed to know who that is?  I know I’m the Deputy Commissioner, but even I can’t keep track of every Hero out there.”
Katsuki would have bet money that that was a damn lie.  “She’s not a Hero.  She’s a Shiketsu student I met during U.A.’s training camp.  A fifteen year old girl.”
Understanding dawned in Hawks’ eyes.  He snapped his fingers.  “Ah, one of our little “scholarship kids.”.  How’s she doing?”
Katsuki fought down his Quirk, a small crackle spreading across his palms.  If Hawks noticed–and Katsuki was sure he had–he didn’t let on.  This was important.  He didn’t need to lose his cool now.  “She’s got the makings of a damn fine Hero,” he said.  “But that’s not the point here.”
He made a fist.  “From what she told me, the Hero Commission offered to pay for her Hero training, all expenses, everything, in exchange for being their 'in' for taking down the Korean gangs when she graduates, with an agency ready to go and paid for by them.  Carrot and stick: give her the legal opportunity to do what she was going to do anyway.”
He pointed a finger.  “So I do some digging.  I talk to some people. Follow the money.  People always forget.  I’m a damn good investigator.  Better at it than just about anybody except maybe Lemillion, and I will deny that I ever said that.  So I come to find out she’s not the first.  There’s four of them at U.A. alone, and more at other schools!  All of them promised agencies after they finish their education, in spots the Commission’s picked out for them, with specific areas and specialties all lined up.  Not that anyone told us.  Hell, I find out there’s been at least a half dozen recent grads from Hero schools from your little project.”
He forced himself to take a breath.  Getting mad was good.  This was something worth getting mad about.  Letting his rage take control though wouldn’t do anyone any favors.
Katsuki fixed Hawks with his best glare.  “Everything the Commission did to you.  To Nagant.  We saw what happened when that dirty laundry got leaked.  How many kids they fucked up.  And here you are, letting the same damn thing happen.  Child soldiers, all over again!”
Hawks held up his hands in a disarming gesture.  “You’ve got it all wrong, Ground Zero,” he said.  “It’s not the same thing at all.  There’s a choice, every step of the way.  And we’re hardly the only country doing this.  Hell, there’s countries where every Hero gets their assignments handed down on high like that.  Compared to them, we’re hands off.”
He went on, still trying to be disarming.  “Look, the whole point of this is not to be what happened to me.  Commissioner Mera consulted me every step of the way. Didn’t always take my advice, but he listened.  But it is his pet project.  He saw what happened when All Might fell, and he’s seen what happened when the wrong choices get made, like with Ignition.  He’s trying to make sure the future’s always secure.  And he feels that means the right person, in the right place.”
“Shut up!” Katsuki snapped. That was one of the biggest loads of bullshit he’d ever heard.  It was never that easy.  The Hero Commission was certainly more ethical than it had been a couple of decades ago, but there was still a lot of shady shit that went down. Some of it was moderately forgivable, some of it wasn’t.
 If you made someone that level of beholden to you, they owned you, even if they claimed they didn’t. Maybe they were handing off the training to others, but the end result was the same.
A small grin played across his face.  “How much does the public know about this recruitment program?  Because for all the digging I did, I could only turn up a few new Heroes giving interviews about Commission scouts suggesting they’d be good at it.”
Hawks’ posture changed instantly, his eyes narrowing and his wings flaring.  The air was thick with tension, neither one of them willing to make the first move.  It was as though they stood on a precipice, with the only question being which one of them went over first.  But Hawks let his shoulders droop.  “The optics aren’t ideal,” he said after a moment.  “So we’re not trying to draw attention to it. Ignition was the Commission’s darling, and that crashed and burned.  And like you said, folks like me and Nagant.  But it’s not like someone couldn’t do like you did, follow the money, talk to people.  And we’re not stealing childhoods, anything like that.”
“It’s fishy as hell,” Katsuki said, “and you know it.  You wouldn’t be making so many excuses if you didn’t.  And I don’t like it.”    
Hawks response was cut off as the door to the office burst open.
***
The man who’d entered wore some kind of uniform, with an insignia Katsuki didn’t recognize, probably some kind of government official.  No major mutations or enhancements, beyond pale, almost albino skin, but he definitely carried himself like a former military man.
“Sorry, sir,” Hawks’ secretary said.  “I tried to tell him you were in a meeting, but he insisted.”
“It’s fine, Ichigo” Hawks said, slipping back into his more casual persona in an instant.  The change in posture and persona was so complete it was almost like looking at a different man.  “I was expecting this visit anyway.”
When the man spoke it was soft, but an unmistakable hint of something more fierce behind it. “I suspected one of you would come in here sooner or later, believing your position as Heroes somehow entitles you to tell the government how to do its job.” He walked into the room, showing no concern to either Hawks or Katsuki, as if they weren’t both veteran Pro-Heroes. He clasped his hands behind his back. He turns to Hawks. “Is this going to be a problem, Deputy Commissioner Takami?”
Most people would have missed it.  But Katsuki saw Hawks’ mask slip, just for a moment. He didn’t recognize this guy, but it was also very clear that Hawks didn’t like him one bit. The name thing was telling too; everyone knew Hawks preferred his codename to his birth name. This was going to be interesting.
“Representative Wakamoto,” Hawks said casually, mask slipping back into place.  “How good of you to visit.  We don’t see you here nearly enough.  Quite a long walk from the Diet, I’d imagine.”  He shrugged.  “I was just explaining to Ground Zero here that he’s getting worked up over nothing.  These aren’t the dark old days of corruption and child soldiers and all that.  Partnerships, scouting, good prospects.  All above board.”
Katsuki kept his face carefully neutral.  “And you’re who, exactly?”
There was a very small smirk. “Oh hardly so far that I can’t see you, Deputy Commissioner.” There was only a small hint of mirth, but masked with an enjoyment of Hawks’ discomfort. He turns to Katsuki, his expression turning into something similar to how one looks at a dirty shoe. “I am Special Representative to the Diet, Ryusei Wakamoto. I am the direct liaison between our government and the Pro-Hero administration.”
If Wakamoto thought Katsuki cared about his opinion of him, well, he was in for a rude awakening.  He did, vaguely, recall learning in school that such a position existed, though it rarely came up.  The Hero Public Safety Commission was typically left to its own devices except in rare cases and special requests.  “Got it,” he said.  “Which means you’re probably the one who signed off on this whole child recruitment thing.”
“Who watches the watchmen, eh?” Hawks said.  “Keeps everybody honest.  Nobody wants the bad old days anymore, especially not me.  So see?  All good.”
Wakamoto’s hands remained clasped. He ignored Hawks and looked at Katsuki nonplussed. “My superiors, the ones Japan’s people elected to safeguard this country, made the call. I made certain it wasn’t ignored. Today’s “Pros'' are entirely too eager to dismiss their government’s orders.”
Ah.  One of those types.  When exactly had this guy been appointed?  He was definitely out of step.  “‘Orders’ might be a bit generous of a way of putting it,” he said.  “We’re not soldiers and we’re not cops. And sure, ultimately, we answer to the Commission.  They set rules, boundaries, licensures, all that.  And they sometimes ask us to take on certain assignments, as needed.  ‘Ask’ being the key word here. Works out well enough, especially with the reforms of the last ten plus years.”
He fought down a wave of anger.  As much as he wanted to hit this guy on general principle, no benefit would come from violence here.  “I have to admit I find it a bit worrying that you’re taking my expression of concern for what looks like a messy situation as ‘disobedience’.  Nobody wants Heroes who blindly follow orders anymore.  That’s what got us into a lot of messes in the first place.”
A smile actually formed on Wakamoto’s face. “Expressing concern? Come now, you and I both know you came to do more than that.” His smile then turns to a thin line. “Blind obedience? No. Heroes who do not ignore direct orders? Yes. The government serves at the behest of the people, and heroes are given the ability to do their duties by the government. Do you know what people really want, Mister Bakugou? They want the comfort that is gained from the illusion that they can go outside on their daily routines without the possibility that some random Villain could appear and end them, because they know Heroes are out there to protect them. Of course that’s a falsehood, but society functions on that falsehood. Without it, it crumbles. Young people like Ms. Park are needed to stem what is coming.”
Smug bastard.  Katsuki would have liked nothing more than to wipe that smile off his face.  Hell, twenty years ago, maybe even ten years ago, he probably would have.  Time and experience had taught him when to pick his battles, no matter how much he would have liked to pick all of them.
The man’s repeated use of the word “orders” grated on him.  Definitely had to be ex-military.  He’d known plenty of people who served.  Fine people.  But some of that thinking stuck with people and didn’t translate well to life outside it.  And Heroes weren’t soldiers.
Not to mention the whole thing was still shady as fuck. Especially the way Wakamoto talked about it like he’d created some junior new branch of the JSDF and not a new generation of Heroes.  But also not technically illegal.  And not unethical on the scale that Lady Nagant and Hawks’ recruitment and training had been. He could, unfortunately, admit that much.  No matter how much he didn’t like it. It still seemed damn predatory to him.  Especially in Park’s case.
“I don’t like what you’re up to,” he said finally, his expression never changing.  “But I guess it’s all nice and legal.  And it sounds like you’re prepared to PR the hell out of it.  I don’t back down easily, Wakamoto.  But I’ve learned how to take a loss. So I’ll keep my trap shut, for now.  But I take exploiting kids, especially ones with a shitton of trauma like Park, very seriously. So I’ll give you a chance to prove you’re on the up and up, like you say you are.  But I’ll be paying attention.”
He shot Hawks a look.  “Nagant snapped.  You got pressured into a hell of a lot of shady shit.  And you two were just the biggest ones.  You, more than anyone, know what’s at stake here. Don’t let it happen to anyone else.”
Katsuki left, not particularly caring what else was said.
***
Well, that had certainly been the tensest situation Hawks had been involved in in a good long while.  Fortunately, he’d been too well trained to show it.  Though certainly part of him had been hoping that Ground Zero would just slug Wakamoto.  There were times when he wanted to.  The Special Representative just rubbed him the wrong way.  Guy definitely had a major stick up his ass.
Hawks didn’t think the man was evil or some secret Villain plant or anything, or even especially unethical.  Just operating on a vastly different logistical framework.
He shrugged.  “The program’s on the up and up,” he said.  “Maybe a little questionable, but no different than a lot of other programs that paid for degrees in exchange for service.  Ground Zero’s just protective.”  
He looked over at Wakamoto.  “So, did you actually want something, or were you just spying on my appointments?”
“Some of the former, some of the latter,” Wakamoto said in a tone that gave no indication if that was a joke or not. “I had heard the Pros had come into possession of some information regarding foreign movements into the country? Can you confirm that?”
“You do remember the part where I’m mostly a figurehead?” Hawks asked, keeping his tone light.  “‘Kicked upstairs’, you know? Not like they run things by me.”   A supposed “check” on the powers that be, but with little actual authority.  
“There’s been a little bit of intelligence chatter,” he added.  “Including from the international community.  Can’t say if anyone on our side’s planning on acting on it.”
“Yes, but I assume you still have contacts among the Pros.” Wakamoto narrowed his eyes. “They act on their own initiatives far too much.” He paused as if stopping himself from going on a familiar tangent. Hawks had heard it all before.  The fact that Heroes didn’t need to run every move they made by someone for some stamp of approval seemed personally offensive to Wakamoto.
“All-for-One’s defeat. Shigaraki’s failure to take his place. Deku’s admittedly exemplary work of preventing the rise of a new Demon Lord in this country. If rumors are to be believed, the consequences are starting to catch up to us.”
Hawks did let his careful mask slip ever so slightly at the man’s other words. “That bad, huh?  I know they say nature abhors a vacuum…”
“I won’t speculate as to the scale, but it’s a different time. In his day All-for-One was supreme, not just in Japan, but in the world of Villains. Now? Our spies in the immigrant communities speak of names from their homelands and beyond, whose powers are growing by the day. Japan may experience another Admiral Perry very soon, looking at our prosperity as an opportunity.” 
Great.  Wakamoto was quoting ancient history.  Now he was annoying and boring.
Wakamoto looked at Hawks. “Except it won’t be a fleet of ships forcing us to bend to the whims of the world, but something worse.”
“Wow,” Hawks said, not bothering to hide his surprise much  “That’s some good old timey racism right there.  ‘Spies in the immigrant communities.’  What year is this again?”
“You know as well as I do that our country, as much progress has been made, is still not entirely kind to our non-Japanese residents. Our government’s well-meaning, but ill-conceived acceptance of the Korean immigrants after the Humanists won the presidency on the peninsula, more than showed Japan is not used to living among people who are not them.”
Wakamoto removed a mint from his pocket, opened it, and took a sniff. “As such with little means of “dignified” work and opportunity, they tend to be forced to become outliers. The Ignition Debacle forced us to ignore the Chinese for so long that The Rising Sons’ tendrils have spread all over the country. Now the Koreans grow in strength, whether it's the resurgence of the Zainichi Yakuza or the new groups with ties to the Villain powers in Korea, they grow all the same.” 
He took another sniff of the mint before throwing it away. He looked at Hawks. “You were a spy. You should know if you want to keep your ear to the ground on criminal doings, you go to the disadvantaged. It’s logical. Label it racism if you wish, it matters not to me.”
Hawks didn’t press the issue.  It simply wasn't the time.  “Okay,” he said, “setting that aside, sounds like we’re primed for trouble.  Fine.  That’s plannable.  No matter how many boring meetings we have to hold.  No need to get all worked up about it.”
Just what they needed. And with the National Sports Festival on the horizon too…
 ***
He was hurting.  That was one of the few things he was sure of.  For months, his life had been a never ending series of pains.  Sometimes, he was lucky.  Sometimes they left him alone for days at a time, other than to check his vitals, draw blood, and check the nutrient feed they had him hooked up to.
He missed food. Prison food hardly anything that could be called good, but it beat his current situation.
Even prison was preferable to this.  He’d been a model prisoner, after all, well aware of the harm that he’d done. He’d accepted the sacrifice of his freedoms for the achievements of Endeavor’s disgrace and forced retirement and the societal transformation that had followed, along with the destruction of the Iga Group.  It had not been anything he could call a good life.  But it had been a life.
Until the so-called League of Villains had sprung him from his cell.  Taken by surprise, he’d been unable to fight them in any meaningful way.  And now they kept him pumped so full of drugs he couldn’t begin to call upon his Quirk.
They were doing something with the diseases spawned within him, that much was sure.  But he did not know what.  What he had done was chilling enough.  What others, more sinisterly inclined, might do with them was a frightening thought indeed.
He only knew that it hurt so damn much all the time.  The dull beep of the machines monitoring his vitals was his only other companionship.  Just irregular enough to keep it from being relaxing.  He knew more than enough about medicine and biology, not to mention torture, to know it all was intentional.
The door to his cell opened and that damned bear entered, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Aw, dear Plague,” the bear-man said.  “Time for more samples.  Perhaps this will finally be the truly effective batch of virus.  Your original really was a work of art, you know.  Even with all the experimentation I did on you, I never could quite replicate it. You still won’t consider cooperation?”
Doctor Ursa had worked for the Iga Group.  He had, in fact, been one of the ones experimenting upon him for so many years.  It had been too much to hope that all the cockroaches in that nest had been captured.
Words were difficult to form, but he managed.  “Go to hell.”
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draceempressa · 2 years
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The van Zieks are antithesis of the Gavins (MASSIVE spoiler for TGAA2, also long read this essay have 2,5k+ words)
People keep talking about how Barok is Edgeworth expy, when in fact Kazuma is the one with more Edgeworth elements, that even wrightworth parallel asouryuu in several ways, people have already done analysis about that,(so I wouldn't bother with that, as ppl already pointed that out) as well Kazuma also have elements of Godot, Mia, Blackquill , Apollo, and even few elements of Kristoph, as 2-4 come, Barok makes it clear he is Klavier's antithesis instead, which come in set that Klint is Kristoph's as well.
First, let us look look at their design. Both sets of brothers are clear examples of the sibling yin yang trope. Klavier is red-black,
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Kristoph is blue-white,
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(therefore, in terms of the red oni blue oni trope, Klavier, the younger brother, is the more sociable red oni, Kristoph is the calculating blue one), when in the case of the van Zieks, Barok is the younger, he's the one with blue-black color theme,
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the more reserved , introverted , as well even shy when younger, and Klimt is the older, yet he is the one with red-white theme,
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and he is highly implied to the himbo the extrovert to barok's introvert, as he is designed to be the yang to barok's yin. Basically, the van Zieks color theme is kinda like Apollo-Trucy too.
Then there is their physical design. Both set of brothers have blue eyes, but the Gavins have long blonde hair with tan skin, overall more down to earth design but they actually have screwed up relationship between them, as well feel less human (at least for me) that Klavier is depicted as pure cinnamon roll and Kristoph is depicted as pure evil. Meanwhile, the van Zieks have short gray hair (with purple highlight) with pale skin, their design give off ethereal/vampiric, aristocratic, out of touch,, and yet they are the ones who are more human inside, that they loved each other dearly, more actually down to earth, as well they are more human as they are more morally grey, with their own flaw as much good point-Klint is open minded and he's the one who initiates the transfer student program, but still he's a serial killer. Meanwhile, Barok didn't give in to his despair, but yes, he is racist.
Then again, the plot does punish him for being a racist but not for being a brocon because this is not drakengard. Even the way Klavier and Barok clearly have tiddies as strong point are part of their contrast, Klavier does it by tiddy window, when Barok does it with very tight jacket that even looks painted on.
This closeness (or lack of it) is even reflected in their names. At first sight, it looks like both Gavin's initials are K.G. But what similarity there is in Kristoph and Klavier? Meanwhile, for the van Zieks, Barok is named of a genre of art, baroque, when a version of Klint's name, Klimt, is based o Gustav Klimt, another big name artist, reflecting a theme in their names.
How the older raised the younger. Both sets of brothers have wide age gap, Kristoph is older by 8 years when Klimt is older by 10 years, and it's implied the older raised the younger. However, the manga makes it clear Kristoph abused Klavier, both physical and emotonal, gaslighting him, when TGAA imply that Barok is coddled by Klint. Albert refer to Barok as "little darling of the van Zieks family" as well the image of Klint teaching Barok the Legjection. This of course affect how the younger brother becomes, in the ironic way. Klavier becomes nice to everyone because he desperately wanted to have someone else in his life that is not Kristoph, hiding his pain. When Barok is sour because he is busy mourning Klint (Nuri confirmed he tried to draw Barok to look like someone who have loads of pain inside) , openly showing his pain , desperately cling to the idea that Klint never left him. Klavier, despite his smile, never shown actual sign of getting better , when Barok slowly is getting better, from accepting Klimts flaw as well accepting more ppl to his life. You know those fanworks where Klavier did try to distinguish himself further from Kristoph, sometimes by cutting his hair off, haunted by shadows of Kristoph? Barok canonically emulate Klint, and accepted the rumor of Klint haunted him to console himself that yes, Klint never left him. What is nightmare for Klavier, is the sweetest dream for Barok.
The more Kristoph abused Klavier to control him, the more Klavier slips from his hand. The more Klimt coddle Barok to show the world is still full of hope and kindness, to widen his horizon , the more Barok wanted to retreat back to his bubble. Basically both older brothers screwed up and not getting what they want for their younger ones. This also result in the character growth of the younger brothers. Klavier starts out scared shitless on Kristoph, later grow to be able to stand against him and ditch him. Barok was later revealed to put Klint on pedestal, and later accept that Klint has his own flaw, a lesson Kazuma and Maria also learn in the same game , but still loved him, still cling to him and goes around with his badge, even if he changes from be like "please don't leave me" to "please watch me from afar"about Klint, accepting he is dead, but not cutting him off his life.
Furthermore, Klavier didn't only ditch Kristoph but also Daryan, when Barok didn't only still loved Klimt but also still have Albert and stay keep in touch with him. Daryan have long been by Klavier's side, part of the law enforcement as well, but turns out to be actual criminal, the one trying to frame another (Machi). When Albert's relationship with Barok is long -distanced, but it lasts, as well he is innocent and the one who is framed (by Enoch) . This also applies to the meta level contrast that, there are loads of fanworks depicting Klavier has PTSD when Apollo reminded him of Kristoph in DD. Meawhile, in TGAA canon, Barok says it to Ryuunosuke's face that he regains hope and interested in him because Ryuunosuke reminded him of Klint.
Both older brothers are taller than the younger,foreshadowing how they overshadow the younger. However, while Klavier wants to escape it, Barok is proud of it. That's why Klavier is a prosecutor, he didn't completely follow Kristoph's footsteps as defense, but he didn't completely take different path that he is still part of law world much like Kristoph is either . Meanwhile, Barok has that gigantic painting in his office, interior design that pretty much forces you to look at it the moment you entered his office, clearly deliberate.
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Ryuunosuke even note how "this painting's presence dominate the room" , as well Barok is a prosecutor just like Klint is, hell, his badge was even Klint's and he can even empathize with Ryuunosuke with how Ryuunosuke wanted to be a lawyer for Kazuma and carry the armband as momento.
Klavier legit didn't know it was Kristoph, not until he met Vera. When Barok does get all the clue Klint is the Professor, he did think about it ONCE, but shrugs it off because of his bias that "no way Lord Brother did anything wrong" . Again, Ryuunosuke note that "no way prosecutor as brilliant as Lord van Zieks didn't notice it" . Smaller details, but Klavier is a rockstar, therefore, audio art, and he actually did make some money from it. when Barok makes miniature, visual art, and his tendency to make miniatures is not monetized but it's part of the investigation. in JP version, Klavier used the most slang honorific for older brother (aniki) to refer to Kristoph, when Barok used the most formal as well archaic one (aniue) to refer to Klint. Klavier is simped adored for being a rockstar, Barok is loathed for being the Reaper of Old Bailey. Their physical similarity to their older brothers are also noted in universe, both by a young girl, but while Vera is understandably traumatized by Klavier's similarity to Kristoph, as he is her extorter, Iris is , even if sarcastically, in awe with how good looking Klint and Barok are, mistaking the gigantic painting as Barok. And then turns out they are her biological father and uncle respectively.
Kristoph's animal motif is so subtle- it's dragon, his japan family name means "dragon fang" , and he is meant to be that kind of JRPG final boss dragon, and neither did he share it with Klavier. Meanwhile, the animal motif of the van Zieks are so on the face, helps that both brothers own pet of their spirit animal, as well sharing the motif- Barok also have the dog element that he still is loyal to Klint as well justice itself, while Klint's bat element is that he is like a mother bat trying to nudge her pup to fly on its own (the pup in question is Barok, who is the one with most bat motif)
This animal motif further show the contrast of the elder brothers. Kristoph is a dragon, animal that often depicted as top of the food chain, even above lions or even humans, supreme being that surpasses many other in many fiction in so many ways , that many other served them instead, and he is the mastermind , the one controlling another. When Klint is a dog, and a dog is often used as metaphor for low status or someone that serve another, Kazuma even explicitly say that Klint is Mael's attack dog. (cue those fanarts of Klint wearing the Baskerville collar. Even saying he is pet play fetish bait is spoiler. Man. ) Related to this, dragon and wolf are, in the many cultures of this world, are animals believed to have cause eclipse by devouring the sun, symbolizing how both single-handedly caused a dark era, the Dark Age of Law by Kristoph and the Professor Killings by Klint. Kristoph not only is overarching villain, he is also still alive by the end of AA4, when Klint is long dead and he is the one getting extorted by another, as well only mentioned at final case (Twisted Karma and the Last Bow and Resolve of Ryuunosuke Naruhodou are pretty much the same case)
Speaking about dogs, both elder brothers have dogs. but while Vongole speak for tiny shred of humanity Kristoph still arguably have, Balmung speaks for Klint's utter monstrosity. The names of the dogs too, Vongole literally means "clam" in Italian.Yes, it sounds silly, and maybe I was thinking it too far, but what if it's reference of Katekyo Hitman Reborn , where the MC's mafia FAMILY's name is "vongola" ? Meanwhile, Balmung is other name to the sword Gramr, which Gramr means "wrath" in old norse, when Klint used Balmung to kill the corrupt nobles out of his wrath and exasperation. Speaking about monstrosity, Kristoph embraced his monstrosity, Klint asked Genshin to take him down like he's rabid dog (heh) before he complete monster.
Their surnames are both puns, that are status of the elder brothers thinks they are. The Gavin is actually pun of "gewinner" that means winner in German, that Kristoph thought he already won when Phoenix is disbarred, when "van Zieks" is pun from "banjikkusu" that means "it's all over" in Japanese, that Klint thought he already far gone and lost to Mael. However, both status turns out to be temporary, and by the end of their respective games, Kristoph lost everything even beyond bars, Klavier and Apollo slips from his hand, his status, his wealth, as well Phoenix' name got cleared, when even beyond grave, Klint got everything he wanted, Iris is raised full of love, Barok become an excellent prosecutor , as well Mael's fall.
Both elder brothers are depicted as having influence (with Kristoph being part of Lawyer Association, when Klint is the Chief of Prosecution) as well initially depicted as more trustworthy, with lighter color themes, but later turns out to be serial killers. Kristoph is depicted as pure evil, that he is indeed petty bitch who deserved everything coming to him with petty motivation, and to symbolize this, he has black waistcoat hidden by his blue blazer, hiding how rotten he actually is , that he evil to the core. Meanwhile, Klint is depicted as tragic fallen hero, that he could have accomplish his noble goal with better methods, and to symbolize this, his red coat have black cuff with gold buttons , that he admits he is a monster and wished another to NOT follow after his METHOD but while trying for that noble goal, wishing the better for another. Also, Kristoph himself fabricated evidence, when Klint is (or rather, his dead body) used to fabricate evidence. In contrast, both younger brothers are depicted as sus, with darker color themes, but later gets close with their lawyers of their game.
Both older brothers are cause why a girl become fatherless, but while Kristoph, well, is the one who killed Zak , as well Trucy is still old enough to remember Zak, when Klint is Iris' very own biological father that chose suicide, and Iris knows nothing about her real heritage.Note that other than Klint's red-white theme contrast Kristoph's blue-white, it also paralells Zak's red-white. (Barok do know at the end tho. Yea, this parallel how Thalassa know Apollo is her other kid but Apollo himself doesn't know it, bonus Barok have blue-black theme just like Thalassa. Klint's color theme parallels Zak and Apollo, Barok 's color theme parallels Thalassa and Trucy, see a pattern here? Yes, AA4 parallel TGAA a lot have you seen how much Apollo in Ryuunosuke,should I make another essay on how AA4 parallell DGS? ... anyway-)
Kristoph isn't exactly friends with Phoenix, they are more like two people playing 4D chess against each other with loads of passive aggressive remarks. Meanwhile, Klint and Genshin are truly partners , even in crime, they are very literally partner in crime in international scandal why does TGAA throw the word partner like candy, Kazuma and Ryuunosuke are partners, Sherlock is also partners with Yuujin is there anymore partners I have to know
Klavier didn't assign himself to go against Phoenix, he doesn't even know Phoenix before his first trial. Meanwhile, Barok signed up to prosecute Genshin as he's out for blood to avenge Klint, and it's also implied he already know Genshin for years, way before the Professor incident.
Kristoph rejects change, and is taken down by jury system. Klint initiates change , and truth about him comes out in trial without jury.
Both set of brothers are based on a major arcana tarot card. The Gavins are based on Kristoph's moniker the Devil, when the van Zieks are Death, as represented by Barok's title "Reaper of the Old Bailey."
The Devil design depict a pair of naked human couple chained to the baphomet. Klavier wears plenty of chain accessories .
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The Death is depicted as Death wearing an armor while riding a horse, giving knightly feel, and the van Zieks brothers looks more like they are part of the military than the law world (bonus that Nuri did design them based on guards as well they go around with sword) .
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Quoting labyrinthos./co , the upright meanings for the devil are oppression, addiction, obsession, dependency, excess, powerlessness, limitations , when the reverse meaning are independence, freedom, revelation, release, reclaiming power, reclaiming control. According to A.E. Waite's book, the meaning of the Devil is .—Ravage, violence, vehemence, extraordinary efforts, force, fatality; that which is predestined but is not for this reason evil. Reversed: Evil fatality, weakness, pettiness, blindness. The card represents: Being seduced by the material world and physical pleasures; lust for and an obsession with money and power. Also: Living in fear, domination and bondage; being caged by an overabundance of luxury; discretion should be used in personal and business matters.
Kristoph unarguably oppress not only Klavier, but also Vera, as well having obsession with Phoenix. He also quite the hedonist, indulging himself in luxury even in prison. Other than luxury, he certainly has a thing to be in power/for someone else to depend on him. He is not above going physical when abusing Klavier either. He also have petty motive behind his actions. When Klavier, he initially is scared shitless of Kristoph, later got the revelation he really is a serial killer, and finally reclaiming control over himself. To add to the devil motif ,the previously mentioned dragon motif match, as dragon are often depicted as demonic in western mythology with the horn and all. Perhaps the hair drill is indeed, supposedly a devil/dragon horn?
As for the death, also quoting labyrinthos./co, the upright meanings for death is transformation, endings, change, transition, letting go, release , when the reverse is fear of change, repeating negative patterns, resisting change, stagnancy, decay . According to A.E Waite, the meaning of Death is, End, mortality, destruction, corruption; also, for a man, the loss of a benefactor; for a woman, many contrarieties; for a maid, failure of marriage projects. Reversed: Inertia, sleep, lethargy, petrifaction, somnambulism; hope destroyed.
Klint, being the other half of the reaper, is the one who initiates the student transfer program to broaden British Empire's horizon. On the other hand, he got corrupted by is despair and starts committing murder, His death meaning loss of Barok's benefactor/mentor/guardian, as well of Barok's own hope, ergo, death of his innocent self and birth of the cynical one. Barok being racist meaning he is resisting the change Klint himself tried to bring, something Barok himself is aware, and by prosecuting Genshin, Kazuma come after, him, repeating the cycle of revenge. At the end of Resolve, only then Barok finally letting go of Klint, finally accepting he is dead even if still wished he stlll watch him from afar.
Tying back the Death motif with dog animal motif, Klint is the Grim, a mythical black dog that inspires the Baskerville as well the black dog in Harry Potter, that it's believed that if you see the Grim, you will die soon. However it's not the dog that picks the death's soul, it's the reaper. So basically the Grim Reaper is combination of two different word/thing, the Grim, the scary thing that heralds the coming of death, (especially a black dog), and the reaper,who actually does the soul picking job. However, perhaps in intentional irony, it's Klint, who is the Grim, but is actually the one doing the job, when Barok , the reaper, is the one who heralds the coming of the actual soul-picker.
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goldafterglow · 3 years
Text
the glimmer of my eye
Summary: Din Djarin, a brothel worker in a small cottage town, services a client he is extremely familiar with.
Pairing: farmer!Daddy!Jack Daniels x brothel worker!little!Din Djarin
Word Count: a little baby 1.5k+
Warnings: 18+/NC-17 ONLY, lmafdsgfjdkhgs yikes this is short little whirlwind, mlm, i will repeat this is a Man loving a Man a lot, anal, Dd/lb, barns, sex work
A/N: y’all fucking asked remember that shit Y’ALL FUCKING ASKED (also the best way to picture this au is like the cottagecore! au, except the cottage is a brothel, but if you’re not familiar then this should still be enjoyable I hope!)
Gif Credit: my love and angel @mrpascals​
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“Could…I see?”
His eyes swirl with tree rings, dark and charred as though he’s walked through fires just to reach this bed, reach him. The farmer smiles shyly, a bashfulness he isn’t familiar with that stings his cheek when he curls his now-swollen lip. He looks down to where the boy’s cheek is pressed to his chest, warmth he’s felt before and yet somehow never known until this moment.
“The barn?” he asks, voice soft but still in disbelief. That hadn’t been his intention when he’d started rattling off about it. It was a boring space, more of a hayloft considering how empty it was compared to the animal barn. There wasn’t much in it but hay, seed, and open space. So much space.
“Big windows,” he explains meekly, and Jack could swear his eyes are starting to shiver the way they do when he wants something, the way they do when he’s about to beg. His right hand glides up the side of the boy’s body from his hip to his jaw, the cracks of his dry thumb scratching against his stubble.
“My boy, I just don’t wanna get your hopes all up in a twist,” Jack insists. But then he looks down again and Din is batting his eyes, lashes thick and curling to the tip as they flit in the softened clementine glow of the bedside lamp. He jokes that for as much money he spends just to be with his sweet boy, he always seems to be the one getting what he wants. But he knows that’s what he’s buying, just a chance to give, a chance to make Din smile and need him as deeply as he needs Din. And it’s always been worth it.
“Alright, alright,” Jack concedes. The bright smile that spreads across his kiss-swollen lips is blinding but priceless, something Jack couldn’t fish out the cash for if he wanted to. “I’ll bring you next morning, how’s that sound?”
“Anything, Daddy,” he begs.
“I’ll show ya, baby,” he assures, leaning down until he feels the gentle knock of his worn forehead. His nose falls right into the crook of his face, a dark haven where he can feel the tips of lashes brush against his cheek. “When the sun shines right through them big windows. They wouldn’t mind if I stole ya for a morning, would they? They know I’m just over yonder, I’ll getcha back in a tick.”
Din smiles at the thought of you.
He can already hear the hefty argument - “Sweet boy, the whole morning? You’d better treat him right; that poor man adores you like no one else. You should’ve seen his big puppy eyes when he saw you that first time in the market, oh I knew he’d like you from the moment I met him. Why don’t you take a few blankets? It gets cold around this time of year and I don’t want you shivering back home to me.” There isn’t a thing you love more than when people love on your loves.
“They won’t mind,” Din whispers, the bubbled edges of a giggle tracing his words.
“I’ll make it so special for you,” Jack says enthusiastically, his mind racing as tides sweep through his mind and begin to pool. “I could feed you breakfast fresh from the farm, there ain’t nothing like them eggs still warm from the hen house. I still have some of them orange squashes, I remember you folk would just about buy me out every week. Do you still like them? I got another-”
“Thank you, Daddy,” Din interrupts.
The tide falls.
His chin juts up gently, mouth capturing his in the sweetness of berries that squirt syrup in his mouth and the lace of cotton sugar that sew between their lips, binding them. Suddenly the lamp light becomes fuzzy, the sheets feeling blurry, and through his closed eyes he can see nothing else but a boy with a throbbing heart, aching for his attention and coated in rose petal embers. He does not pull away, his mouth pressed to his in a way that feels so haphazard and mindless that he basks in it.
“I’d do anything for you.”
The golden boy.
He is adored; adorable. And he must know it when he looks up at the farmer with his big brown eyes, must know it when he runs his tender, calloused fingers through his soft tufts of chestnut hair like cupping clouds of fizzing sea foam. His voice drips like molasses when he speaks; Din loves it that way. Slow, smooth, pulling away in thin cords that hold everything together in tight, sturdy ribbons.
Sweet.
The boy loves hearing him talk, more than most. The farmer hadn’t believed it at first, wasn’t used to the special attention. But the first time he ever asked, said, “Will you tell me to?” all shy, Jack had seen the stars sparkle in his eyes like splintered flecks of golden flames spraying from lightning.
Still, as he runs his hand up his back and presses the tip of his cock into him, he wonders if that’s when he’d gone sweet on him.
“Feel alright, baby?” he grunts, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the column of his spine. Din has little willpower like this, cock strained from all the grinding he’d been put through on the rough denim of his Farmer’s jeans, and he gasps when Jack presses a little further.
“D-daddy,” he whines as he feels himself begin to stretch even more, feels something thick and heavy fill him up just how he likes.
“You’re doin’ so good for me, baby,” Farmer Daniel coos, sinking the thickness of him into the warmth of his body. “Take me all the way baby, I know you can. Just like that sweet boy.”
He is drowned out by whimpers and the light creaking of wood from Din’s strong fingers gripping the edge of the smooth wooden support beam where Jack had him bent over. Jack always fills him good, he thinks. Daddy always makes me feel good.
“Good boy,” Jack purrs as his hips press into the plush of Din’s ass, balls deep. He’s stretched out plenty, been stretched out so many times before, but he could swear he feels tighter this morning. Something holding him, clamping down like soft feather talons to keep him here if he has to claw at him with his last fleeting breath.
But his golden boy doesn’t need all of that, not when Farmer Daniel’s had been so taken by him from the moment he’d laid eyes on him.
The window in the barn faces the East, to the right of the world, his world. The sunlight only just creeps through, sweet slivers like bronze streamers tossed across the open space, across the caramel oak and right onto his back. Jack runs a hand up into his hair, palming his scalp as the tip of his cock presses deeper into him.
And then he looks back.
His breath catches in his throat when they lock eyes, deep pools of roasted honey that spill down his tongue and coat his throat. He looks sculpted, impossible, and the farmer’s face melts down into a vast blankness like the space between stars.
“Fuck me Daddy.”
Jack quirks a smile, leaning down and over him to press his face into his. He sometimes wonders if there was any sweetness before him, has tried to remember the eons he spent smiling at regulars at the market and making a place for himself, imprinting his face into the town. He wasn’t unhappy then, not by any means, but that only makes him confused as to what more his crashing star could’ve given him.
Bliss.
“What’s that, boy?” Jack grunts, pulling out a little only to press back in, grinding the tip of his cock until Din is on the verge of tears.
“Oh stars - please don’t tease me,” he cries as another thick bead of precum spills down the slick underside of his cock. There is a low hum, a blinding tug on his hair, and then Jack is snapping his hips into the plush of Din’s ass.
“Like this boy?” he spits as he pulls sob after sob out of him, “Yes Daddy, please Daddy, faster Daddy faster.”
“Daddy loves the way you sound when you’re full of his cock. I love the way you squeeze me boy, such a desperate little slut for Daddy.” Jack’s grin has been sent tumbling down the hill, lost in the awed parting of his lips as he drills into him over and over. He knows how rough the boy likes it now, knows that there isn’t much he won’t take to make him happy. Fuck how he loves making him happy. It shocks him how delicate he once thought he was as he stands here now, tugging his hair and pounding into him as hard as he can give it.
“Right there Daddy, fuck me right there,” he hears. Jack knows he won’t last like this, but Christ if this boy isn’t worth every second, every penny in his pocket.
“I’ve got you baby,” he assures softly, the gentle twist of his voice soothing as he fucks him merciless. “Daddy’s always got you.”
Tags: @cobbvader @miraclemoreno @keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @chaotic-noceur @opheliaelysia @adikaofmandalore @din-damn-djarin @mrsparknuts @girlwithanewplan @mrschiltoncat @dindjarindiaries @antmnwasp @teaofpeach @nopeforyou @frankiemorales @stanfordscrush @thatreclusewriter @thirstworldproblemss @buckstaposition @wickedfrsgrl @eternallyvenus @the-feckless-wonder @cocoatales @the-wishmonger @fangirlingss @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @iamburdened @frannyzooey @djxrxn @jangofctts @wanderlustmags @mstgsmy @readsalot73 @xakilicious @thewayofthemandalorian @oloreaa @starless-eyes-remain @mrpascals @xjustmenobodyelse @beskar-tano @thepjofanqueen @vulpineblue @sdrecsfics​ @sin-djarin​ @filthybookworm​ @kiwi-the-first​ @pettyprocrastination​
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horseyneigh2002 · 3 years
Text
A Desperate, Defenseless Creature (17/31)
Basically Doomguy Meets a borrower
Summary: Warren was desperate. Sure, the little three-and-and-three-quarters inch tall man had some close calls in the past; exterminators, rats, that one teen who’d been too curious for his own good, but nothing that even remotely began to prepare him for this.
Honestly, Warren was doubting that anything could have prepared him for the end of the world.
Enormous creatures that the humans had called demons roamed outside, killing each other as well as anything they could see. Buildings had been completely destroyed in the invasion. Not a single human had been seen in months. Food was scarce to nonexistent.
Everything changed when he was caught by a human called the Slayer.
[Ao3 link]
Chapter 17: Stitches and Guests
Summary: Warren worries. Vega explains. John is smitten. Hayden is miffed. 
Contains: Nondescript medical procedure (stitches), blood, mentions of events from DOOM 2016
Word Count: 2.6 K
---
Warren had been worried before John had come back through the portal all bloody. Half a robot had come crashing onto the floor through the portal that John should have come through before closing. It had terrified the little man. 
“Vega, who - wh-what is that?!” He scrambled over to the edge of the console to glance down. It was only the head, the torso, and an arm that was together on the robot. It didn’t seem to be moving. The featureless head had a small, faintly flickering blue light in the middle of where its face should be. 
“That would be the remains of Doctor Samuel Hayden.” 
“Oh God.” Warren covered his mouth. “Is he…. Dead?”
“His life signal is faint, but it is there.” 
“Oh.” Warren lowered his hands a little. “Is there anything I should do to help?”
“No. John will be here shortly. He will be able to deal with plugging Doctor Hayden into a power source.” 
“So. Where… where is John?”
“He is still in the ARC complex. There is a super heavy category of demon that he had to take care of.” 
Warren had felt his heart jump up into his throat. He had forced himself to take some deep breaths and calm down because he knew that John was capable and didn’t need a portal else he would call for one. 
“You are worried for him.”
“Yeah.” Warren took a deep breath. “But he’s fine. He’ll be okay.” 
After a few minutes, the portal call had sounded and then VEGA had opened the big blue portal. John had come in, not limping, not stumbling, and there were bullet holes in his chest plate. He had given a small wave before turning around to check the monitor. 
Warren had to admit he had screamed just a little bit when he had seen the big gash across John’s lower back that was still bleeding. 
Now Warren was standing, bare foot, on top of John’s bare back, carefully stitching the wound closed. While the drones had retrieved medical supplies, a sort of calm had come over Warren and he helped John remove his armor without agitating the wound on his back. He wasn’t squeamish over injuries or blood, but it had freaked him out to see his love hurt. 
“Okay Vega, bring over the disinfectant and a bandage.” 
Two field drones hovered over the wound and started dressing it. Warren gathered up the remaining surgical thread, the needle, and jumped down. He was trying to not think about the fact that there was actual blood on his hands as he grabbed a cotton ball and dipped it in the cap of disinfectant. 
He cleaned his hands and the surgical needle thoroughly. Warren stowed the needle with the other surgical needles and put his boots back on before finally turning to look John in the eyes. “Do you think you’re gonna be okay?”
He nodded softly. 
“Good.” Warren picked up a cloth that he had sitting nearby. “You worried me.” 
A large finger softly patted his head. 
“I know you can handle yourself.” Warren gently wrapped an arm around his finger to hold it steady. He softly nuzzled into the pad of his finger. “I just worry about people I love.” 
He could feel John gently giving him a supportive nudge on the back. 
Warren released his finger and gently batted away the thumb that nudged him in the back. “I’m fine now.”
He gave him the smallest smile before getting out of the floor. Still crouched, he held a hand out to offer Warren a ride. The smaller man happily climbed into his palm and settled down. He kept a hand on his thumb while John carried him through the halls of the Fortress. 
While John walked, Warren just listened. Being able to hear the human’s gust-like breaths, feel his stride, comforted the small man. He knew that John was going to be okay. He had seen him in worse shape. 
After a few moments, John walked into one of the rooms. Warren didn’t recognize it for a moment before he realized that this must be John’s bedroom. The first thing that drew his eye was that, for a room with so little in it, it was messy. There were dirty clothes strewn in the floor and wadded up clothes sitting in a chair tucked underneath the window. The bed was unmade, the bottom sheet coming untucked and the top sheet was half in the floor. The bedside table had a handful of things strewn across the top, but the room was otherwise empty. 
Warren glanced up with intent to make some kind of comment, but whatever words he was going to speak were blocked from entering his throat when he remembered that John was shirtless. Yes, he had been there and seen John take his shirt off so they could address the wound on his lower back, but he had been focused on stopping the bleeding and getting the wound closed instead of the fact he was shirtless. Now things had calmed down, there wasn’t anything of massive importance, and now he could notice just how physically fit and attractive that his boyfriend was. Warren forcefully looked down and tried to ignore it. 
No need to embarrass him. 
John lowered his hand to the bedside table and Warren hopped off. He was still blushing as he glanced around the top of the bedside table. He noticed the frayed leather chord that had what looked like dog tags strung on them. He couldn’t read any of the information save for a few letters since the tags were pretty much destroyed. There was also a half charred piece of paper folded around some other mostly intact piece of paper. Also on the table was some strange looking coin with a hole in the middle and a little purple and white and black flag pin with a bullet hole in it. 
He heard the rustling of cloth and turned over his shoulder to see John pick up a shirt from the chair, smell it, and then carefully slide it on. John sat heavily on the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. 
The two just stared at each other for a moment before John started to sign. ‘You okay?”
“I should be asking you that. You did just enter a compound in the middle of lock down and go toe to toe with a super heavy demon.” 
He raised an eyebrow. 
“Vey told me the different classifications of demons you came up with.”
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in good humor. He reached over and softly patted Warren on the top of his head, his own way of telling him that he was okay. Warren gently held onto his fingertip. After a moment, John laid the back of his hand on the table, an invitation for Warren to climb on. The small man stepped up onto his palm and then after a moment, scrambled up his arm and settled on his shoulder. 
“Sorry for startling you.” Warren had to grab onto the shoulder of the shirt in order to stop from slipping when the enormous man shifted to try and look at him. “Just wanted to leave your hands free for communication.” 
John just made a soft noise and carefully brushed his fingers against Warren’s legs. 
“You have dirt on your face.” Warren reached up and brushed it off where a speck of dirt was clinging to his skin.
‘T-H-A-N-K U.’
Warren just softly pressed a kiss against his neck. 
There was a soft chime from the speaker tucked in the corner of the room. “I hate to interrupt whatever is going on in here, but Doctor Hayden is going to be permanently lost in about twenty minutes without any power.” 
John sighed softly and stood. Warren clung tighter to the large man’s shirt, and shifted a bit so he was leaning against his neck for stability. Once he was settled, John went back to the bridge. The robot corpse was still sprawled out in the floor where it had crashed through the portal. 
“So, this is the Hayden guy that found your tomb in Hell?” 
John nodded and crouched down to grab him. A piece of metal fell off and he left it there as he walked over to one of the empty platforms in the back of the bridge. 
“John, Warren, if I may?”
John gestured for Vega to go ahead while he set the robot torso onto the platform and pushed a button. Blue light appeared around the platform and the torso hovered about four feet above the platform, at John’s eye level. 
“It might be wise for Doctor Hayden to never meet Warren or any of those like his kind.” 
Warren tensed up. Just what did he mean by that? 
“You know as much as I do, Slayer, how little Doctor Hayden cares for most human life. I would not be able to trust that he would not try to potentially hunt other borrowers down once he was out of the Fortress. And we would not be able to guarantee Warren’s physical safety when you were not here.” 
John seemed to be following Vega’s train of thought and nodded softly. ‘We should hide him. For safety.’
“Warren, would you be alright with being hidden?” 
Warren bit his lip. He didn’t really want to have to hide while in his own home, but he also didn’t want to put other borrowers in danger by revealing himself to someone who couldn’t be trusted. “It’d only be temporary, right?” 
“Of course. We wouldn’t force you to hide for any longer than necessary.” 
“Okay. I’ll hide then.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe he would just go camp out in his room for a few days. There was plenty of space under the bed for him to work on a few small projects here and there while he waited for this whole situation to blow over and then things could return to normal. 
Before the small man could call for the mobility drone, John softly picked Warren off his shoulder and slipped him into the front pocket of his sweatpants. Warren was ashamed to say that he did squeak as he tumbled down into the fabric, but he had never really been pocketed by his boyfriend before, so he felt like he had every right to be startled. 
 “Slayer!” Vega scolded. 
John signed something that made Vega sigh and then start instructing what to plug into Doctor Hayden and where. 
Warren had to move a bit to get comfortable in the bottom of the pocket and hugged his bag close. Everything he had heard so far about this Hayden guy had him uneasy. 
There was a loud whir and he heard the crackling of electricity. 
“Doctor Hayden is transferring himself into the Fortress’s mainframe. The architecture is similar to his own neural network. I will try-” His voice fizzled out. 
There was a garbled noise that slowly became a voice. It was deep and even and spoke with a certain tone that Warren could only describe as lazy superiority. 
“Hello again, Slayer.” 
---
Doctor Samuel Hayden’s systems came online a little slower than normal. He felt the pure wraith energy pour into his body while the damage report gave him the full extent of his wounds. If there was wraith energy in him now, it meant that the Slayer had found him and brought him to his base. 
He tried to expand the extent of his systems into that of the base. VEGA was already in the full extent of the computer systems. After a moment, he realized that VEGA was trying to resist his upload and was speaking audibly. 
“-transferring himself into the Fortress’s mainframe. The architecture is similar to his own neural network. I will try-”
Hayden managed to seize control of the closest speakers and cameras, silencing VEGA. He could see the Slayer in civilian clothing, staring at his remains with arms crossed and his natural sour look. 
Once his voice was transferred to the speakers, Hayden spoke. “Hello again, Slayer.”
He got a glare in return. 
“You aren’t still upset over how we parted on Mars, are you?” He had known the look of imminent death on The Slayer’s face as Hayden took the demonic crucible from his hands and then sent him to a far off planet to find a Sentinel Space Fortress. If he hadn’t had trapped the Slayer in a state of suspended animation, he might have actually attacked Hayden. “I did what was necessary to restore Argent Energy to Earth. Humanity would have fallen by now if I had not brought that crucible to Earth. Surely you can recognize what moves had to be taken for the good of humanity.” 
The Slayer made a noise that could be described as a small growl. 
VEGA forced his way onto one of the consoles for a camera and microphone. “We need your help, Doctor Hayden.” 
“Of course.” Hayden turned his attention to VEGA.
“The Slayer has now destroyed 68 percent of Hell’s occupying force. Without the priests, the demons will not consume Earth as the Khan Mayker had planned. But there is still one priest lost and I have lost his signal. I cannot locate him.”
Ah. They had managed to only get halfway to completing the mission on their own. That was better than what Hayden had originally surmised based on VEGA’s programmed dependability for instructions and the Slayer’s brutish nature. 
“The final priest is hiding in Sentinel Prime.” Hayden had heard of the destruction of the Super Gore Nest prior to the battle that had reduced himself to just a torso. It was the most logical place for her to stash the final priest. “The Khan Mayker does not want him to be easily found. The road to Sentinel Prime will be a long one as the only functional Slip gate to Sentinel prime is in the core of Mars in the lost city of Habeth. I have marked its location for you on your maps, but getting there will take time. There is no easy way to access the core of Mars.”
Hayden could sense VEGA looking over the maps with the markers. “There are no known pathways that lead there, Dr. Hayden.” 
“No, there are not. But the unmapped caverns that were byproducts from harvesting the northern ice cap should reveal a path to the core of Mars.” 
The Slayer was walking away, presumably to suit up so he could go on mission. 
“We do not have enough information to make that judgement call.” VEGA protested.
“We can send a drone to do a sonar scan once the Slayer is in the entrance of the caverns.” 
“And what is your plan for if there is no route to the core of Mars?” 
Just as Hayden was about to explain what exactly they could do and that it was not necessary for VEGA to be giving input to the plans, the Slayer got both of their attentions by tapping on one of the monitors. Since VEGA had blocked him from entering the monitors for some unseen reason, he had to observe the filethe Slayer had pulled up from a camera. 
It was the file for the B.F.G. 10,000. He was pointing at its current location of the Phobos moon base. Knowing the Slayer’s problem solving method of destroying everything he touched, Hayden knew his plan in an instant. And it seemed VEGA did as well. 
“I understand, searching the coordinates to the B.F.G. 10,000 now.”
“You can’t just shoot a hole into the surface of Mars!” Hayden protested. 
The Slayer smirked at him before walking off through a doorway that VEGA had disabled the cameras behind. Suddenly he remembered how frustrating it could be to be working with the Slayer in such close proximity. 
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abiteofnat · 3 years
Text
If you’re reading this, I’m coming back to Chicago, beetch
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The non-existent rumors are true. After a brief 10-month exit from the city to soak up the fresh air and social distance-friendly suburbs, I am now returning to Chicago as a single, slightly more anxious version of myself. While I’m still trying to kick some of the anxiety and OCD that COVID-19 pushed from “lifelong tagalongs” to “all-controlling demons”, I feel 97% ready to be back where I feel most myself, and cannot wait to welcome that change. While that 3% still makes me a little uncomfy and hesitant, I’m a believer in pushing your boundaries to allow yourself to grow, and also, I am really sick of suburbs food. 
Ha! I joke. I wouldn’t move downtown simply for access to more diverse & higher quality food... or would I? All I know is while there are plenty of gems in the North Shore, I’ve eaten take out from all of them ten times over, and I did not foster my dislike of cooking out of nowhere. My parents do not enjoy cooking, my sister pretends to enjoy cooking, and I will cook if it is 5 ingredients or less. My latest speciality is a toasted bagel with butter, hummus, and EBTB seasoning. Voila. So when it comes to dinner, we are living off of a carousel of suburban favorites, and are losing steam as we are still not comfortable with dining inside (or dining inside in the city, where the fun food is). 
All of this to say, it’s exciting to imagine what life is going to be like in a few short weeks. While I’m still extra precautionary, I can’t wait to have my own space downtown, where I can enjoy coffee on my little balcony (!!!) and dream of the days friends can come squeeze into my studio safely while I lay out an entire table of sharable spreads and snacks from Ema (Charred Eggplant Spread is the best one, don’t fight me). 
So you may ask, how did you come to this decision to move to the heart of downtown out of seemingly nowhere, you hermit? 
It starts with my mom and I having a brief, simultaneous breakdown and coming to the conclusion that we would both feel comfortable doing a staycation downtown, as long as we wore masks, sanitized always, and braved the cold to eat outside. This was big for me! As a person with real OCD, not cute TV show “I have to keep my pens straight” OCD, this would be the most exposure I’d had to a lot of uncontrollable variables since the pandemic started. If you’re thinking, “you get to spend a weekend downtown in a hotel with your mom, shut up”, know that I hear you. I am unbelievably grateful that I’ve gotten this time with my parents, and that we can do a staycation. However, having anxiety comes at a cost, and that cost is blowing everything way the fuck out of proportion instead of being able to rationalize it sometimes. Let’s! Normalize! Having! This! Discussion!
So, we went downtown in early March for a two-night stay, and oh my goodness. The realization that we got to be in a different space, and do different things, and eat different food for a weekend made it feel like a legit vacation, and not like we drove 30 minutes to get there. The view from our room was of Michigan Ave, and hearing the traffic and seeing the people out and about instantly made me feel a sense of peace I wasn’t expecting. I’ve lived downtown for 6 years, but it always shocks me how much the city feels like an extension of me once I’m in it after being away. My mom and I went out for a walk (gentle yet forceful reminder to please wear a mask), then decided to grab dinner while we were out. The plan was to bring it back to the room, but there was a warm spell, and there just happened to be a table for two at Topolobampo on Clark, and suddenly we were sitting on the patio under the lights eating masa quesadillas dipped in a spicy salsa verde. It just happened!!! 
Before getting downtown, I was tentatively looking at apartments for the spring. I was looking at Lincoln Park, Old Town, maybe Lakeview, and came across a listing in the Gold Cost that caught my eye. That one was swiped out from under me within days, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the area. Then I discovered another unit that was available, and couldn’t shake it from my mind. Over mushroom tacos I discussed it with my mom, and we decided to go see it. Totally not what I had been planning for in terms of location, but why not? 
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Once we polished off breakfast the next morning (Eggs Benedict with fried eggs, extra hollandaise) we headed out to see the place. Let me say I have never seen my mom fall in love with a single apartment I’ve lived in, and she was ALL. FOR. IT. Unreal reaction on her part. Once I saw the west-facing views and the incredible natural lighting, I was 100% in as well.
We spent the rest of the weekend wandering the downtown area, enjoying another dinner outside at The Gwen and my mom’s first visit to the Starbucks Reserve Roastery, which was 95% more empty than I’ve ever seen it given we went in a pandemic at 8:30PM. Shit on Starbucks all you want, but that Roastery is an incredible use of space (in non-pandemic times) and the coffee & Princi pastries are really, really good. 
When we got back home feeling refreshed and like we had actually gone on a vacation, I jumped into apartment shark mode real fast and signed as many documents as the very kind realtor could send over. One week later, whabaam, I was a Gold Coast girl. Ahem, *lady*. What better way to celebrate than going to Somerset and having the Rapini & Roasted Garlic Flatbread and Wild Mushroom Risotto? No clue. As I sat outside, yet again with my mom, I felt a wave of excitement come over me and realized, this is it. This is the sign and feeling I’ve been waiting for, telling me it’s time to move back to the city and start over. The creamy, herbacious risotto also helped solidify that. 
SO. After all of that, the news is I’m moving, and you’re probably wondering why I shared all of this on a blog about food. I meant for this post to be about everywhere I ate during my staycation, but realized quickly we ate at some very basic places - DELICIOUS, but still basic. Oops. Below are all the dishes I had and a rundown of the flavors, textures, etc., however don’t expect to find any new, revolutionary restaurants. Sorry! 
1. Topolobampo 
This Rick Bayless restaurant has been around forever, and unfortunately, you can tell by the interior. We’ve eaten here as a family a couple of times before, but never had a noteworthy experience. I can confirm that in a pinch, the patio covered in fun lights & mini piñatas, and the sharable, filling bites will do just fine. This was my first time going to a Mexican restaurant as a non-alcohol drinker, and instead of my typical mezcal margarita, I opted for a Fresh Limeaide which was refreshing and flavorful. We split the Guacamole and Chips, which if you’ve ever stopped at the Frontera in O’Hare, you know is good as fuck. It’s smooth, creamy, tangy, and topped with chopped onions and cilantro for a little crunch. It’s not the most life-changing, but it is consistently satisfying. Next, we got the Mushroom Tacos and Masa Quesadillas. The Masa Quesadillas were a fun surprise, as instead of a tortilla, the masa is what makes up the outside. They are almost like empanadas and stuffed with gooey, melty cheese, and come with a spicy salsa verde on the side. I would come back for these alone - they’re rich yet light, warm, and comforting, all the things you would want when dining outside when it’s still a little chilly. The Mushroom Tacos were quite frankly unreal, because whatever they seasoned the mushroom slices with and grilled them on made them taste unlike any mushroom I’ve had before. There was definitely some meat crossover on the grill, so don’t order those if you’re vegan, or ask them to prepare the mushroom separately. I however was LOSING MY MIND. Over mushrooms. The joys of being vegetarian! 
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2. The Gwen
On a happening Saturday night in Chicago, Upstairs at The Gwen is sure to be a packed scene. Located in River North, this hotel bar/restaurant offers a somehow cozy rooftop filled with loungey couches, fire pits, and ambient lighting, even though you’re surrounded by apartments and skyscrapers and there is nothing “cozy” about River North. Every table was filled, yet since you’re outside and it’s fairy spread apart, it still felt safe. I got my new classic, a Lemonade, and we got the Burrata to start. With sourdough, roasted beets, squash, pomegranate, pistachio, & arugula, this plate was nothing short of mouth-watering. It has textures! It has flavors! It has pomegranate seeds, the TikTok must have of the moment! The bread was 10/10, the burrata was 8/10, and all of the toppings made for a very find bite of salad on their own. For my main I got the Lobster Fettucine, a beautiful bowl of “charcoal fettuccine with saffron-tomato sauce, lobster, calabrian chili butter, and basil-brioche crumbs” as listed on their website. Take any of those ingredients and it’s going to be delicious, but all of them TOGETHER? INCREDIBLE. The chunks of lobster were huge, absolutely making the dish worth its price tag, and the sauce was flavorful, unique, and unlike any sauce I’ve tasted in the last few years. It’s typical to do a squid ink pasta with seafood and tomato sauce, but the saffron added a new element I very much appreciated. 
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3. The Starbucks Roastery 
I KNOW. THIS IS A TOURIST DESTINATION. All I am saying is if there’s no line, go get an iced latte with two packets of sugar in the raw. That’s all. It’s really good after something like, I don’t know, Lobster Fettucine. 
4. The Penninsula 
You cannot go wrong with hitting up The Penninsula for breakfast or brunch, especially if you are staying there and have the option to do room service. Typically we would go to Pierrot Gourmet, the cafe in the ground floor of The Penninsula, however it has been closed temporarily. If there’s one thing to order with your breakfast, it’s the smashed fingerling potatoes. Delish. 
5. Somerset 
Somerset is becoming a quick go-to of mine for an impromptu dinner downtown, given it’s in the heart of Gold Coast and is cute if you’re sitting indoors or outdoors. The food is nothing too innovative, but it is done well, which is the most important part with “cuter” restaurants that may focus on the Instagram appeal over the food sometimes. Each time I’ve gone I’ve gotten the seasonal flatbread and a pasta or risotto, usually something with mushrooms, and it’s always been plate-licking good. To drink, I got -you guessed it- a Lemonade! For dinner I went with the Wild Mushroom Risotto which was everything you could hope for in a risotto, topped with olive oil, herbs, and local parmesan. We split the Rapini & Roasted Garlic Flatbread which was as it sounds, flatbread covered in rapini, garlic, and ricotta, which added a nice crunch and had enough rapini to feel like it was replacing a boring vegetable side dish or salad. The patio vibes were wonderful, the judgemental girls in the greenhouses looked like they were having a good time, and our waiter couldn’t have been sweeter. I will be going back to try the Fontina Arancini, which I just noticed on the menu. FRICK. 
So there you have it, a very long-winded explanation of the last few weeks of my life and where you can find me on a staycation in Chicago. Hopefully once I move back to the city I’ll have endless new spots to try and won’t be basic anymore! 
Until next time, Happy Eating!
-Natalie 
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blushingbaka · 3 years
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love like summer rain;
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✰ part six ✰ read part five here ✰ masterlist ✰
|| summary - bokuto was never your first pick as a co-counselor, but eight weeks is plenty of time to change your mind
pairing: bokuto x fem!reader genre: fluffy camp counselor au, slow burn, mutual pining length: 3.1k
✰ a/n: w o w... okay i had this part planned out, but it ended up being longer than i expected !! it’s definitely the longest in the series, but the next one is pretty short. i’m super excited to see your reactions though, so pls indulge me lolol, as always, i hope you enjoy it <3
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⋆week six⋆
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Something about camping outside always brought you a sense of ease. As you listened to the quiet crackling of the campfire, the chorus of chirping insects, and the jovial laughter of the campers you couldn’t help but smile. Letting the campers experience sleeping under the stars was always your favorite part of camp, even if a select few were reluctant to sleep outdoors. But those campers along with the ones who had complained about the task of gathering firewood were all smiles now, huddled around the fire, roasting marshmallows.
“Hands off the chocolate, Bokuto!” you looked just in time to see Yukie swatting at Bokuto’s hand. Her reaction was too slow, however, and he popped the piece of chocolate in his mouth with a smug grin. “Those are for the s’mores!” she reprimanded him, slapping him on the shoulder, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Tonight your smiles seemed to come easier, and you felt less tense surrounded by the comforting hum of nature.
When Bokuto joined the campers around the fire, you saw Yukie steal a piece of chocolate for herself out of the corner of your eye. “I thought those were for the s’mores” you parroted her words, nudging her side with your elbow playfully.
“Eh, we have plenty anyway. I just like giving Bo a hard time” she admitted, the left corner of her mouth quirking up slyly. “Besides it’s not like we can roast a marshmallow for ourselves right now” she pouted, obviously still discontent with the fact you two were manning the s’mores station. You shifted your focus back to the campers and found yourself easily entertained. A portion of the campers was intently focused on Akaashi as he gave them instructions on how to achieve a perfect, golden marshmallow; however, there were also the campers who followed Bokuto’s impatient approach, allowing their marshmallow to catch on fire, before squealing excitedly as they blew it out.
The campers were all too quick to bring you their marshmallows that you soon found yourself busy with helping them make their s’mores. You became distracted by Yukie bantering with a camper who wanted extra chocolate, so it shocked you to suddenly hear Bokuto yelling your name. You whipped your head in his direction concerned with his urgent tone, and you saw him walking hastily through the small crowd of campers.
“Make way! We have a marshmallow barely holding on!” He exclaimed loudly, and you finally saw that his eyes are focused on a marshmallow close to falling off the stick he was holding. “I need a graham cracker stat!” He yelled to you, causing you to scramble to grab one. You met him on the other side of the table, and you could see the marshmallow slipping further, but you reached it just in time, pressing the graham cracker to its bottom.
“See I told you we would save it” Bokuto turned excitedly to the camper you hadn’t even realized was trailing him. After making her s'more, she thanked Bokuto again, the stars still in her eyes.
“Aren’t you quite the hero” you poked his ribcage teasingly, your smile becoming even wider. He mirrored your grin, but suddenly he became nervous, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.
“I’d bring you a marshmallow since you’re stuck making s’mores, but I burn all mine” there’s a slight pout to his lips that your eyes seem drawn to. “Maybe I can talk Akaashi into roasting you one” he searched your face, waiting for your response, and you have to purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing at how adorable he is.
“Actually, I prefer the taste of burnt marshmallows” you whispered as if you’re telling him some grand secret, relishing in the gleam that entered his amber eyes.
“Say no more!” He exclaimed, slightly puffing out his chest. “I’ll roast you the darkest marshmallow you’ve ever had!” You want to tell him there is a limit to how charred a marshmallow should be, but all you can do is chuckle as he gives you a little salute, heading back to the campfire. As you continued prepping s’mores you couldn’t help but sneak glances of Bokuto by the fire. He was speaking excitedly to Akaashi, who looked very concerned as he placed the burnt marshmallow into the flames again. You had to muffle your laughter when he pulled it back out of the fire, eyes narrowed, as he scrutinized its surface. You’re worried he might stick it back into the fire, but thankfully he heads your way, a pleased smile on your face.
You will admit, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a marshmallow so burnt before, barely being able to find any white on its surface. Your eyes darted to Bokuto, who was watching you expectantly. You started by picking off the burnt exterior, plopping it swiftly into your mouth. A satisfied hum fell from your mouth as you enjoyed the charred sweet taste. You could feel a bit of stickiness on your lips, so you darted your tongue out to capture it, your face suddenly flooding with heat when you realized Bokuto’s eyes were tracking your movements.
“Thank you” you spluttered out, quickly taking the rest of the marshmallow. You mumbled something about getting back to work, and when he left your side, you breathed deeply trying both to steady your heartbeat and to ignore Yukie’s suggestive stare.
Eventually, you ran out of graham crackers, and since you had to set aside chocolate for chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, you told the kids they could only roast what’s left of the marshmallows. You happily take a couple of marshmallows for yourself and a stick, finding yourself an open spot on one of the logs placed close to the campfire. At some point Akaashi had pulled out his guitar, exciting the campers who had excitedly yelled out what songs they wanted him to play. You gently swayed your shoulders to the familiar tune, eyes focused on the dancing flames surrounding your marshmallow. You felt someone plop down beside you, and no surprise, you turned your face to meet the sight of Bokuto.
“This is nice” he sighed beside you, eyes trailing the smoke as it furled and vanished into the velvet sky littered with pinpoints of light.
“It is” you mumbled transfixed by the golden light flickering over his features, the flames of the fire also reflected in his amber irises. The sight was so captivating you forgot about your marshmallow until the camper to your left told you it was falling. You cursed under your breath, taking it out of the fire and bringing it closer to your lips, managing to blow out the small flame and keep it steady.
“Y/N” Bokuto whispered, causing you to bring your attention back to him. When your eyes met his, he had his mouth wide open, and you bit your lip fighting a grin.
“You want my marshmallow” you exclaimed in mock offense, holding your hand to your chest. "My perfectly burnt marshmallow"
“It’s only fair. I gave you mine” he said insistently, knocking your knees together purposefully. Come to think of it, you had only actually seen him eat one s’more, and you wondered if that’s all he had.
“Fine” you huffed, holding out the stick to him, but instead of using his hands, he moved his head forward, attempting to grab it directly with his teeth. “Seriously” you chuckled, your first instinct being to move it further away.
“Hold it still” he whined grabbing your hand that was holding the stick. Your eyes zeroed in on your hands, his touch somehow being hotter than the heat radiating off the fire. You felt your pulse quicken, and you wondered when little things like this would stop driving you insane.
“Easy lovebirds. There are kids around” your body went taut like a wire, hearing the familiar taunting voice of your childhood best friend. You whipped around, looking up to see Kuroo’s prominent smirk. It felt like you were caught in a scandalous moment, so you quickly stood up, stepping over the log.
“Kuroo, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?” You were eager to change the subject, but you knew there had to be some reason why he left his group. Just like yours, they were camping out tonight, but they were at some site further up the mountain.
“Ah, nothing to worry about. I just was hoping you had some spare batteries. We’re going to play flashlight tag, but some of the campers’ flashlights are dead” he sighed dramatically like the ordeal was very inconvenient for him.
“Yeah, I know I have some in my backpack,” you told him already walking towards your bag.
“Oh! Can we play flashlight tag?” You heard Bokuto ask excitedly from behind you. You hadn’t even realized he got up to follow you.
“No that’s really just for the older kids. People can get hurt pretty easily.” You explained, crouching down to rummage through your bag. “By the way, do you need any extra medical supplies?” You questioned, looking up at Kuroo. Now that you were further away from the fire it was harder to see, but the soft reaching light of its flames illuminated his face enough for you to make out his expressions.
“I think we’re good. I can just come back down if we’re running low for some reason. I know you like seeing my face anyways.” he added, but you swore his eyes were trained on Bokuto as he spoke. Deciding it was just a trick of the light, you just rolled your eyes at his weak attempt at teasing.
“Here, this should be plenty” you handed him the small plastic bag of batteries, after you had taken out some for your site. Your hands instinctively went to rub your upper arms, the faint breeze giving you chills now that you didn’t have the comforting heat of the fire.
“Are you cold?” Kuroo immediately picked up on your actions. “It’s supposed to get kind of chilly tonight so I hope you brought a sweatshirt.” You did have a sweatshirt, but unfortunately, you had already given it to a camper that had forgotten theirs. There was always extra blankets in your supplies, however, so it wasn’t something you were worried about.
“I’ll be fine” you sighed. His words isolated would seem caring, but there was a teasing lilt to his voice that you knew meant he had some other ulterior motive to his words.
“Well if you do get cold and can’t sleep, my sleeping bag is big enough for the both of us” he gave you a sly wink, and this time you were almost certain his eyes darted to Bokuto.
“Just get back to your campers. You wonder why I call you annoying” you grabbed his shoulders, gently coaxing him to turn around and start walking.
“I’m just being considerate” he chuckled deeply, but he kept on walking. You shook your head in mild exasperation, heading back to the campfire. You turned seeing Bokuto hadn’t moved, his eyes glancing between you and Kuroo.
“Coming Bokuto?” You questioned, and he shook his head as if your words brought him out of a trance. He gave you a small nod, smiling softly, but it didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes.
--------
Just as you expected, it was a couple of hours into the early morning before you got the campers settled in their sleeping bags. It was difficult for you to sleep, however, the spare blanket not being quite enough to keep you warm and your mind being increasingly aware of your dwindling time at camp. This was probably the last year you’d be able to spend your summer being a counselor, so you clung onto moments like tonight desperately trying to engrain the view of the vast night sky into your memories.
With the fire being put out a couple of hours ago, only the chorus of insects remained, but if you focused hard enough you could hear the distant sound of a stream. Giving up on sleeping, you grabbed your flashlight, deciding to take a small walk to clear your head. You wrapped the blanket over your shoulders, taking advantage of the little warmth it gave you. It wasn’t long until you came across the creek, a clearing allowing the moon’s light to glitter across it’s surface. You found a place on the bank to settle down, admiring the steady stream of water, and pulled your knees to your chest.
“Y/N!” You jumped, hearing Bokuto whisper yell your name, and you turned to see him slowly approaching you. The tension left your body as quickly as it came and you offered him a small smile as he sat beside you.
“You don’t have to whisper you know” you informed him, a smirk tugging at your lips.
“I don’t know. I feel like I might disturb all this peacefulness” he gestured broadly to the space around you, still keeping his voice at a hushed whisper. You chuckled, slightly adjusting yourself so your body was facing his.
“Were you looking for me?” You asked curiously, recalling the hints of worry in his features when you first saw him.
“Hmm not exactly” he mumbled, looking down at a stone he was turning in his hand. “I had gotten up to pee, and just as I was walking back onto the campsite I saw you walking into the opposite part of the woods.”
“And you followed me?” You rose one eyebrow in question. With the moonlight reflecting off his face, you could see a faint shade of pink dusting his cheeks.
“Well actually…” he chewed his bottom lip, reluctant to finish his sentence.
“Tell me” you urged him, laughing softly, tapping his leg gently with your foot.
“I might have been worried that you got cold and that you were going to take Kuroo up on his offer” he spit out the words so fast you almost didn’t register what he said. You stared at him, your mouth gaped open in shock. You didn’t know what notion was more ridiculous. The notion that Kuroo’s offer was genuine or the notion that you’d actually accept it. Your silence must have added to Bokuto’s embarrassment because he turned slightly away from you pouting.
“Even if I was as cold as ice, I wouldn’t get in a sleeping bag with Kuroo” you laughed breathily, managing to find your voice. This piqued Bokuto’s interest, and his golden eyes quickly glanced back to yours. “There is no sharing a sleeping space with that man” you continued huffily. “That hairstyle is not one of a peaceful sleeper, y’ know?”
Your gentle jabs at Kuroo seemed to lighten Bokuto’s mood, but he still seemed bothered by something. “Y/N, will you be honest with me about something?” He was looking into your eyes so deeply, you couldn’t do anything but nod, holding your breath as you waited for his question.
“Do you have feelings for Kuroo?” His expression looked so vulnerable that you decided to shake your head profusely instead of laughing in his face, which would be your typical reply to that question.
“We’ve always just been friends, and that’s how we want it” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation with him. Was he really that oblivious to your feelings? You thought it was painfully obvious how flustered you got from even the smallest hints of his affection.
“That’s good” Bokuto nodded, but it seemed like he was talking more to himself. “Oh! You can have this if you’re still cold. I don’t need it.” You glanced at the sweatshirt he was holding out for you, noticing its presence for the first time. Your stomach flipped seeing it was the same sweatshirt he gave you last week, which you had begrudgingly washed and given back to him. You wondered if he could sense how ectastic you really were as you slipped the material over your form. When your head reappeared, you could see that Bokuto was smiling fondly at you.
“Here we should at least share this blanket” you felt a sudden rush of bravery as you scooted closer to him draping the blanket over both your shoulders.
“We’re not heading back?” He asked although you were glad to not hear any disappointment in his tone.
“Not yet. I just want to stay here a little longer.” Your body was brimming with so many emotions, but it felt like voicing them now would disturb the peacefulness Bokuto mentioned earlier. So like many times prior, you bottled them inside, choosing instead to focus on Bokuto’s presence. “Will you stay with me please?” You softly requested.
“Of course” he stammered, but when you let your head fall onto his shoulder you could tell his body was tense. You let your knee playfully knock against his, hoping it’d coax him into relaxing. It was effective because he heaved out a sigh, his shoulder relaxing under your cheek, and his head dropped to rest softly on yours. You two fell into a comfortable silence, and now more than ever you wished you could freeze this moment, refusing to let it fade away; however, now the steady stream of water seemed to mock you, reminding you that life would carry on and the seasons would change. Who would you be to Bokuto when autumn came? It was almost as if he could read your mind.
“Hey Y/N” he softly prodded. You hummed in response. “Promise me that when this summer is over, we’ll still hang out like this, okay?” You weren’t sure what ‘this’ really meant, but his words still caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your lips curved up in a familiar smile.
“Sure. I’d like that.”
“Okay but this is serious, so we have to seal it with a pinky promise” he demanded resolutely, slightly pulling away from you. He already had his pinky outstretched, and you bit your lip shyly linking yours with his. He had a surprisingly firm grip, and he lightly swayed your hands back and forth, letting the moment linger. You bravely looked up to his face, being met with the guileless boyish grin and twinkling eyes that made affection swirl wildly inside you. Unlike earlier tonight, he was now bathed in the silver light of the moon, rather than the golden light of the fire, but he still looked ethereal. At that moment you knew you wanted more than anything to stay by his side and see how he looked within each season. You wanted to feel summer rain all year long.
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✰ continue reading… part seven ✰
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always-anxious612 · 4 years
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“Caking” Amends
Thank you to @catolicabuena​ for this prompt (and also the title idea)! It was a lot of fun trying out writing in Remus’s point of view!
Description: Remus just wants to do something nice for Patton.
Genre: fluff (with just a tiny bit of angst mixed in cause I’m and angst gremlin and can’t help myself
Pairings: platonic Intruality
Warnings: brief mention of blood, brief mention of poison, food mention (I think that’s it. Let me know if there’s anything else or if you want something specific tagged!)
Remus had never been the best in the kitchen (just ask Dee who had been witness to his last…concoction), but this time, he had a reason to make everything perfect. What reason is that, you ask? Well, the happy pappy baker himself, of course. Recently, Patton had been trying so hard to make Remus feel more welcomed, even though he still got a little squeamish at some of the topics the chaotic side brought up. He had baked him everything under the sun, even finding out his favorite cookie (raspberry thumbprint cookies, if you were wondering. He liked how the red jam in the middle of the cookie reminded him of a pool of blood). Remus just wanted to show that he appreciated Patton’s efforts. Obviously, he had tried other ways to show how he felt, but Patton didn’t seem to appreciate his gory drawings or the special creatures he made in the imagination in Patton’s honor. Remus could see behind the uncomfortable smile and falsely cheery tone whenever he’d show him those things. That was ok, he was still trying, and Remus still appreciated it. But he was still left with nothing to present to Patton as a thank you. And that’s how he ended up in the kitchen. 
Unfortunately, at this point, flour somehow covered every visible surface, cake batter clung to the walls and countertops, and some sort of mysterious red substance had leaked onto parts of the floor. And there was Remus in the middle of it all, still trying diligently to get what batter was left in his mixing bowl into a cake pan. It took all of his limited concentration not to spill any more batter
“Perfect.” He grinned, once it was nicely spread in the pan. It didn’t look half bad if he did say so himself (even though there was only about half the amount there was supposed to be in the pan), but perhaps he should taste it? After all, the taste had to be perfect as well. Patton’s cakes and cookies were always amazing, his should be too right? Remus was about to happily stick a finger into the batter when he caught sight of the dirt under his fingernails. Now, normally he wouldn’t mind sticking his dirty finger into the batter and tasting it anyway, but Patton probably wouldn’t appreciate that. Oh well, he followed Patton’s recipe exactly, so it should turn out fine, right? He shrugged as he stuck the cake into the already preheated oven, the thought of getting a spoon to taste test it, or just washing his hands never crossing his mind.
          While the cake baked, Remus decided to start on the frosting. It was a fairly simple recipe and he was done in no time. Well, might as well add some colors to decorate with since there was still plenty of time before the cake got done. His first instinct was to grab the red, and not stop until it was the perfect shade of crimson, but wait, no, this was for Patton. Patton wouldn’t like a blood red cake or any of the rest of what Remus wanted to decorate it with. Instead, he grabbed some blue food coloring and added in just enough to make a pastel blue. There. That was perfect. Patton would be sure to appreciate that color. Well, that didn’t take nearly as long as he thought it would. Guess he would just have to wait for the cake to be done. Remus groaned impatiently and stared at the timer. Only twenty minutes left…with a sigh, Remus plopped down in front of the oven to wait. If he left, he would just get distracted and burn the cake (not that he had done that before or anything. And Dee definitely never had to scrape the charred remains of what vaguely resembled some cookies off of a pan before…or had to throw away a rock-hard piece of “charcoal” that was completely glued to the inside of a cake pan.)
          Finally, after ages of waiting—well it felt like ages, anyway—the cake was done. Remus grinned as he pulled it out. It was actually golden brown! It wasn’t black or smoking this time. That alone, Remus counted as a win. He tried to let it cool before icing it. He really did. But he already waited so long for it to bake, and he really, really wanted to give it to Patton now, so he decided to go for it. Besides, the icing only started drooping a tiny bit when he put it on. It was cool enough. After the cake was decorated, Remus stood back to look at his creation. It was slightly deflated on one side, caving in on itself a little; at some points the icing was sliding off because the cake was still warm; and there were quite a few white spots where Remus didn’t mix in the food coloring as he should have. But it was the best cake Remus had ever made. Now to get Patton.
“Oh, Pattycakes!” he sang loudly “I have a surprise for you~” a minute later, Patton rose up, immediately gasping at the state of the kitchen.
“Wh-What’s going on here, kiddo?” he asked, nervously glancing at the red substance that was still staining the floor.
“I made you a cake!” Remus cheered gesturing to the blob of blue on the table.
“Oh, you did? Remus that’s so thoughtful!” Patton gasped, nervousness changing to delight in an instant. Until he caught a glimpse of the cake that is. Of course, he was still thrilled that Remus had made him a cake, but…was it actually safe to eat? Knowing Remus, probably not. Remus’s grin faltered slightly as he took in the moral side’s wary expression. He didn’t like it. He should have known. It was pretty ugly looking now that he really looked.
“You—You don’t have to eat it, Pat.” He offered, looking down at the mess he had created. The disheartened tone in Remus’s voice was enough to make Patton steel himself for what he was about to do
“Of course I’m going to eat it. It’s a cake made specially for me, isn’t it?” he replied confidently. Remus’s head snapped up in surprise.
“Really?” he gasped. Patton smiled at him, hesitantly taking a fork from the silverware drawer. Before he had time to talk himself out of it, he stuck the fork into the cake, took out a big chunk, and stuck it in his mouth.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, chewing slowly.
“Is it bad? Oh gosh, it’s horrible isn’t it.  You should spit it out. I probably somehow poisoned you. It’s underdone and overdone at the same time, isn’t it.” Remus started panicking as the various ways Patton could get sick from his cake popped into his head.
“Remus, Remus, calm down, kiddo. It’s—It’s actually really good!” Patton exclaimed, happily reaching for another bite.
“It…what?”
“It’s really good! Here, try some!” Patton took the bite he was about to eat and instead shoved it in Remus’s face, who instinctively opened his mouth to accept.
“Oh, it is good!” he smiled, talking as he chewed. Sure, the icing tasted a tad too sweet and the cake might be a little underdone, but it was actually pretty good.
“I’m so proud of you, Remus.” Patton praised pulling the dark side in for a hug. And if Remus’s breath caught in his throat at the action, and if Patton’s arms tightened slightly around him hearing the sound, neither of them said a word. Instead, they just enjoyed the moment, Patton’s words still ringing in Remus’s ears. He was proud of him. The thought made his insides squirm, but in a good way, and he couldn’t help the uncharacteristically soft smile that slid onto his face. He’d have to bake for Patton more often.
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daedriclorde · 4 years
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About the Character
Ahhh thanks for the tag @eeveevie​ !
Since my main OC is My Girl Aerisif, let’s learn more about her:)
Your Muse’s Name: Aerisif / Kjolti 
One Favorite Picture/Faceclaim of your Muse:
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It also happens to be the only art I have of her, but I’m obsessed with it so its okay:)
Two Headcannons you have for your Muse:
Aerisif cannot cook. Not even a little. She knows whats safe to grab off the trail. She knows what berries will kill you and which ones wont. But combining these things into something else? Impossible. Cooking meat? Hope you like it charred, or raw. Her mother tried to teach her when she was young, but Aerisif would just get so confused.
Despite her mother’s talents, Aerisif never picked up Alchemy or Magic. She doesn’t know that she possess some natural magica abilities due to her blood. And while Aerisif knows plenty about the properties of the ingredients to be found in the wild, she never pursued the study of learning how to combine them. Probably because its too much like cooking. 
Three Things That Your Muse Likes Doing in Their Free Time:
Reading! Aerisif loves books and collects as many as she can. 
Listening. Its one of the best ways to learn things, especially things you’re not supposed to. But also, the way people talk about their interests or other people says a lot about them and Aerisif picks up on that.
Smithing. Aerisif is proud of her ability to craft her own armor and weapons. 
Seven People Your Muse Loves/Likes:
Brynjolf
Farkas
Yngvar
Aela
Serana
Karliah
Paarthunax
A Phobia Your Muse Has:
Sailing / Large bodies of water. Before traveling to Solstheim, Aerisif had never been on a boat before. She’s fine with lakes and rivers, but the open ocean? Not a place that people belong. Nobody knows whats down there or how far it goes. She gets terribly seasick too. 
Internet social anxiety is killing me since I really don’t know any of you so I’m sorry if tagging you is a problem. Not entirely sure who else writes? @maraleesquill​ ? @elsvveyr​ ? @trombones-and-tea​, you got an OC you wanna chat about? @eeveevie​, wanna gush on another of your delightful characters?
(Again so sorry if tagging you is weird I’m new here I don’t know the rules)
And literally anybody else who follows me and wants to tell me about their OC:)
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angelamoores · 5 years
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Friends Don’t Kiss
this is the second part in the Friends Don’t series and it’s almost double the length of part 1 oops. tagging: @mychenrymadness @chenoahchantel @up-the-tube @ginger--binger @ciara-knightly @rorythevambire @cactus-con @charlottepage let me know if you want to be added/removed
In the days that followed, Charlotte and Henry spoke more and ‘acted less weird’ on Jasper’s request. However, things were still off between them, neither of them willing to make the first leap in fear that their feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. When Jasper asked what the worst that could happen was, either of them would reply with some variation of ‘I don’t want to ruin our friendship and make things awkward’, failing to see the irony in the fact that it was precisely what was already happening. 
It was just a normal Wednesday in the Hart household. Henry’s parents were both out and his sister was off somewhere with some girls she didn’t really like, leaving him and his friends in the living room doing homework after work. He and Charlotte were perched on opposing ends of the couch whilst Jasper had opted for the purple armchair near the mantlepiece. 
If asked he would deny it, but a part of him had chosen to let them sit near each other, hoping it might lead to them at least acknowledging each other outside of courtesy. It wasn’t like the idea of his two best friends dating each other didn’t scare him. He didn’t love the thought of them leaving him out, or having to pick up the pieces if it all came tumbling down. But right now, anything seemed better than the overwhelming silence between them. 
His thoughts were interrupted by the vibrations of a cell phone which he soon realised came from his back pocket. He lifted it to see the call was from his grandma and knew then what was about to happen. He spoke to her, answering when appropriate in a script he’d learned over time, as he begun to round up his stuff into his backpack. 
Henry had been struggling with his English assignment and hadn't noticed the phone call at first. But he caught a glance at Jasper’s face, and recognised the words that would come out of his mouth before he said them. 
“I gotta go, my grandma fell and she can’t get up.”
They both gave a knowing nod in response, but it wasn’t until moments after he’d left that they realised they were now alone. It wasn’t really that big of a deal. At least it shouldn’t have been. They were friends, this was definitely not the first time it had just been the two of them alone in Henry’s house. Why were they acting so weird, dammit?
Three minutes passed and still nothing but silence. ‘This getting ridiculous!’ Charlotte thought to herself. Slowly, she let herself look up from the AP biology homework she had finished a while ago and had just been pretending to read over. At the other end of the couch, Henry was sat with one leg tucked up, the hood of his grey hoodie pulled up past his ears, but not so high she couldn’t see his face. She took this opportunity to study him. The way whatever had had a hold on his hair in the beginning of the day had been defeated by the passage of time, allowing loose blond curls to flop onto his tanned skin. The all too familiar expression of frustration on his brow, the one he made when the words just weren’t registering.
Henry had been young when he was diagnosed with dyslexia, it had been obvious to everyone but him. Reading, writing and spelling never came naturally to him.  Sure, he had never excelled academically, but there were plenty of other things he was good at. Not that this was overly reassuring when he had a paper due the next day. 
Maybe the familiarity of the situation made it simple. Or maybe Charlotte’s need to help her best friend was stronger than any little crush could ever be. Either way, it was easy for her to shuffle to his end of the couch and place a hand on his shoulder. “Here, Hen. You dictate, I’ll write.”
They spent hours on the sofa, Henry either dangling upside down, sideways or practically any other option other than just sitting like normal person whilst Charlotte wrote out his words for his assignment. At some point, he had received a text to say that his parents had decided to stay at his grandparents’ over night. At some point, they had both passed out in his living room.
It was almost 1am when a noise woke Henry up. His house had been broken into enough times to leave him paranoid, so he was relieved to see it was only his notepad that Charlotte had nudged off the cushion in her sleep. He tried to keep still, realising that her head was in his lap, leaving her laid out across the entire couch. 
He grabbed his phone from beside him as quietly as he could muster, scrolling through the hourly “I’m still alive, Henry, calm your tits” texts from Piper that he insisted she send him whenever she was staying out overnight. His parents might have been naïve enough to believe her when she said she was sleeping over at a friend’s house - hell after five years they hadn’t even noticed he was a superhero- but he knew she was really at parties or galas or whatever the hell else her celebrity status got her invited to. There was nothing to say she was home, though, meaning they still had the house to themselves.
He put his phone back down and turned his attention back to his best friend. He knew it was weird to watch her sleep and he swore he was going to stop after a second. She just looked so peaceful. It wasn’t really until then that he realised how much stress and worry her usual expression carried. If the last couple years of crime fighting had been hard on him, the constant fear that every time she watched him and Ray go up the tubes it might be the last was tearing her apart on the inside. It was no business for kids, though they hardly felt like kids anymore.
“Whatcha thinking about?” She asked raspily as she awakened, still dazed from sleep.
Not wanting to get into what had left him so deep in thought at this hour, Henry let a lazy grin creep across his lips as he glanced down at her lovingly. “Just Nacho Ball.” 
Charlotte rolled her eyes and elbowed him lightly in the side. “Believe it or not, I just had a rather elaborate dream about their jalapeño poppers.” That had by no means been the only notable thing from her dreams last night, but her stubborn unwillingness to make things weird again pushed that thought aside.
He let out an airy laugh, throwing his head back against the cushions. Sometimes, he thought that Schwoz had secretly hooked up their brains to think alike; though if he had, Henry would probably have made some better life decisions. 
But whilst they were on the topic of food, he realised neither of them had eaten since lunch. And no one was home to stop them them from getting fast food in the middle of the night.
“Hey, isn’t there that twenty-four hour Nacho Ball a couple blocks away?” 
Charlotte nodded, before realising what exactly he was suggesting. “Hen,” she whined, everything that could- and probably would- go wrong already playing through her head.
“Char,” he mimicked, accompanied by pouty lips and puppy dog eyes.
“It could be dangerous.”
“I’m Kid Danger for god’s sake! Plus you have that laser Ray makes you carry in case of an extreme emergency, which won’t happen. Stop overthinking this.”
“Well,” she said, stalling as she was running out of arguments, wondering why exactly she was even fighting it, “it’s cold.”
“You can borrow that one hoodie of mine that you like.”
And with that she sat up from his lap and ran upstairs to his room. Henry shook his head with a smile, moving to put on some sneakers. Charlotte took her assumed position as The Sensible One very seriously, but she was still just a teenager with a rebellious streak and a appetite for adventure like any other.
“You coming, Kid Dork?” She questioned from his front door, somehow downstairs again without him noticing. He only laughed, grabbing his keys from the mantle before following her out into the night.
If it had been late when they left, it was an ungodly hour in which they returned. They walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, for safety of course, having a petty debate over what was truly the best breakfast cereal of all time. Henry had been making a pretty heated argument in favor of Cinnamon Toast Crunch when they reached his front porch. At some point it had rained a little, so both had their hoods up, though each had a few curls peaking out the front.
Charlotte had wound up with her back against the door, Henry facing her, standing a little too close. He had finished his point, but she was too caught up in the moment to counter it. There was nothing on her mind other than the way he was looking down at her, the glint in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips. She felt as if he was only getting closer, it took her moment to realise that he was. And suddenly she really didn’t hate the thought of it.
“Henry?” 
At the sound of his name, he pulled away so fast that Piper had to place a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Charlotte almost hit her head on the door at the realisation they weren’t quite alone in the night.
“Yes. It is me. Your brother. Henry,” he clarified, scratching the back of his head, as if everyone present wasn’t already aware of all the information he had given. Under slightly different circumstances, Charlotte might’ve laughed.
“I know who you are, dummy. You look surprised I’m back, did you not get my texts?” Piper asked, also a little shellshocked about the sight she’d walked in on. He could tell by her outfit that she’d been at a party, probably with some socialite she’d met online. He didn’t remember getting any texts about her return, though come to think of it he hadn’t even glanced at his phone once the entire time they’d been out. There hadn’t been a need.
He shook his head in response before unlocking the door and heading inside, pretending he desperately needed to use the bathroom. 
“Hang back a sec, Char,” Piper requested, dumping the gift bag she’d received from the party on the ground beside her. 
Charlotte swallowed hard, but obeyed. She hadn’t really talked about her feelings out loud properly before. Jasper- bless his heart- had tried his best, but at the end of the day he was still just a boy. This was different.
“So those dreams you mentioned, they were about-?”
“Your brother.” She filled in slowly, fiddling with the sleeve of Henry’s hoodie.
“Huh.” It was all Piper could seem to manage for the moment, taking a seat on the step of her porch. Charlotte sat down beside her and they both stared out into the night.
Piper knew she had no right to be mad. Charlotte had always been Henry’s friend first. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been told the truth at first, she could understand why. Really she was just surprised she hadn’t seen it before, the way her brother’s face lit up at the mention of her name, the way they both looked at each other, the sheer amount of time they spent together. 
The thought of her with Henry would take some adjusting to, but it was already written, it had been destined to happen. Right from the start. Mainly, she was happy. Piper had no shortage of friends, but Charlotte would always be her favorite. And now, she would probably be around even more.
“Henry better not mess this up, because I really love you,” she spoke finally, her words decisive.
Charlotte smiled in relief, terrified that she might’ve just lost her only female friend. She engulfed her in a hug, returning the sentiment.  
“But Piper?” She pulled away and turned to face her younger friend. “We’re just friends, dreams are weird,” Charlotte insisted, reusing Henry’s words from the week before. 
Piper shook her head in exasperation. She may have been younger but she was hardly the clueless one in this conversation. “Friends don’t kiss.” Her friend was about to remind her that they hadn’t in fact kissed, but she acted like she hadn’t noticed. “But don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”
“Girl code?”
“Girl code. Now get inside, it’s like 4 in the morning and we all have school tomorrow."
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morganas-pendragons · 5 years
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Daddy | T.S. + Daughter!Reader
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This is based off of that clip that RDJ released of that alternate scene with Tony and Peters reunion. I haven’t written a daughter reader in a while, and I’ve been inspired to use Goodbye by Avril Lavigne in a fic for a while. Feedback is always appreciated. 
tagging: @ursae---majoris
The lyrics of a song he used to sing to you as a child echo in your mind as you charge across the battlefield at Peter Parkers side. 
Goodbye.. Goodbye.. Goodbye my love
I can’t hide, I can’t hide, I can’t hide what has come 
He was an Avril Lavigne fan. Figures that he’d like the most heart wrenching song she’d written, but to you it was always the song that Daddy sang before you went to sleep.
It hasn’t been very long since you were on Earth, but according to what you’d seen written across the faces of the Avengers on the front lines, it had been years. 
To Tony, it had been lifetimes. 
You would never forget the look of utter devastation on your fathers face when he was losing two kids as a consequences to Thanos snap. You and Peter - who was only a few years younger then you - weren’t even supposed to be in space, but here you both were anyway. 
Peter went first. The uneasy feeling in your stomach intensified as darkness swam in your vision and the only thing visible to you was the concerned features of your father. He looked so old, so worn down, so consumed by his grief. 
You don’t deserve this, Dad. 
  “D-Dad?” Your voice broke mid sentence as you stumbled towards Tony, hands extended outward as you often did as a toddler when you wanted his attention. Your legs were the first to give out as he sank to the ground with you in his embrace. 
  “Hey, don’t you worry sweet pea-” The longer he talked, the more you knew it was more of a reassurance for himself instead of you. “Everything is going to be okay.” Tony recognized the fear overwhelming your expression and furrowed his brow. He’d been there plenty of times himself, on the brink of greeting Death, but he’d never been as terrified as he was watching his biological child experience the same thing. It’s not fair. “Y/N, look at me.” 
Worn hands cradled your jaw and tilted your chin just enough to look into the onyx eyes of your father. The very same man who had once rejected your conception and had spent years trying to alienate you for fear he’d turn out to be just like his own father, an utter disgrace to the Stark name. It wasn’t what you deserved. All it had taken for him to fall completely in love with his little girl was the day he and Pepper had taken you to the carnival when you were barely five years old, and you’d gripped his hand so tightly and grinned at him so widely that he was sold. He rode every ride with you that day and carried you to bed that night. 
Tony hadn’t let go of you since. 
He was at an utter loss for words as you struggled to keep yourself composed, very well knowing what was coming next. The part where he was going to be forced to let you go. 
  “Y/N-” 
You only had one thing to tell him. One thing to show just how you felt about everything that’s happened over the last two years since Siberia. The last time he came home and you sat by his bedside every day that he recovered. 
Tony cradled you to his chest in a desperate hold. You knew he had intended to never let go, but the universe had other plans for you. 
  “I’m sorry Daddy.” The last thing Tony saw before you disappeared from his hold entirely was the crash of your Arc Reactor pendant into the hot sand of Titan. 
But now here you stand fighting against a villain unlike any that the Avengers had fought before, and in the midst of it all, you sought out your father. Your safe place from the darkness of the real world, your best friend, your hero. He was how you’d win against Thanos. 
  “Hey, hey Y/N! There’s your dad!” Peter Parker hastily dragged you through the rubble of the Avengers Compound in the direction of your father, who was still oblivious to your presence. The youngest Avenger had sought you out in the time you’d been dusted, and after quite some time of getting to know one another, looked up to you as a role-model. Someone he respected as much as he did Tony, despite the lack of years between you both. 
Peter ran forward first. You were frozen in place, hair veiling your mildly terrified expression as you awaited his reaction to seeing both you and his protege having returned from the dead. Their exchange was drowned out by the sounds of battle raging on around you, but your eyes never tore away from Tony. 
Then his eyes met yours, and it was like everything fell into place. 
  “Y/N-” 
You sprinted through the debris and flung yourself at your father despite the fact you were wearing your Iron Maiden armor he’d made for you just before you’d been pulled into this intergalactic mess. He’d been so excited to see you wear it - his pride and joy embodied in his legacy - that he’d let you name it. Neither of you were disappointed when you chose his favorite band. 
 “Daddy-” 
Tonys breathing hitched as he wound his arms around your middle, stunned by the mere fact that you were here and alive - and you had no clue he’d married Pepper, let alone that you had a baby sister waiting for you at his countryside cabin. A cabin he’d never return to, a home that hadn’t been home long enough. 
  “My girl.” He bent his head and brushed a kiss to your temple just as Pepper flew overhead in the Rescue Armor. “I missed you.” You take that moment to remember how it feels to be around your father - safe - before you pried yourself away from him and disappeared inside the armor. 
  “Can we kill Thanos now? I am dying for a cheeseburger. Parker doesn’t even know what a good cheeseburger looks like, let alone tastes like.” 
The laughter you elicited was something you hadn’t heard in years, but you wish Pepper had been present so she could hear just how beautiful it sounded. “Sure, sweetpea. We’re gonna kill Thanos,” He wrapped his hands around your shoulders and also disappeared back into his armor. “The world’s gonna need its next Iron Maiden.” 
You never had time to ask him what he meant before the two of you were pried apart and the battle raged on. You marched alongside the women of the Avengers, you met Carol Danvers (who you adored from the minute she said, “I don’t even have to ask if you’re Stark’s kid. You act just like him!”) and took control of the skies beside Rescue until the enemies crumbled and their ashes were blown away by the wind. 
The lyrics to the song still echo in your head when you and Pepper find him. Rhodey was there, as he always was, lingering in the background with unshed tears in his eyes as the other Avengers moved forward. You’d won, but at what cost?
  “Y/N. Come here.” Pepper motioned you forward with a wave of her hand, having used her body to block whatever was occurring in front of her. It wasn’t until you saw the charred skin and the vacant look in his eyes that reality slapped you hard - Your father had been the one to beat Thanos. 
The cost had been his own life. 
  “He wants you to sing to him.” She whispered, hand resting on your shoulder as you knelt between his parted legs. Tony was still breathing. He was still alive and he could still hear you. “Sing him to sleep, baby.” Your chest constricted as you wrapped your hands tightly around his ankles. The knot in your throat was making it difficult to speak, and if you lifted your gaze to watch your father die, you would come undone at the seams. 
Coming undone to the words of a melody that would haunt you for the rest of your life was nothing compared to Tony Stark finally finding peace. If it was peace he wanted, it was peace he’d have. 
So you cleared the knot in your throat, and you began to sing, “I have to go, I have to go, I have to go, and leave you alone..” You missed the way his eyes lit up and his lips turned upward in the ghost of a smile. “But always know... Always know.. Always know, that I love you so, I love you so.” 
Tony took Peppers hand, she took your own, and together the two of you rested them against the light of the Arc Reactor until it flickered out. He was gone. He was gone and had left you with all the tools you’d need to continue living out his legacy. To uphold the Stark Name. 
The world was gonna need its next Iron Man. Or Iron Maiden, whichever you’d prefer. 
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Since it’s been a while since I’ve posted this, here’s a little introduction and PSA for Jack-O’s blog:
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Just to get this front-and-center, I want nothing to do with maps, LBGTQIA-phobes, transmeds, exclusionists, terfs, racists, and anyone who is even complacent with pedophilia or incest.  If you fall within any of those categories, don’t interact with my blog.  And hey, do yourself a solid and learn about why those leanings not only hurt you and the people around you, but society as a whole.   Hate and abuse are not welcome here.      
Also no shipping/romantic rp’s with Jack-O, please.  She’s got a lot of love in her charred little heart, but it’s all platonic.  And it’s going to stay that way.
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Multi-fandom and OC friendly! Seriously, OC’s are amazing and I love having Jack-O meet them!    
Mostly long-ish form rp’s/replies.  I ramble a lot … in case you couldn’t tell from this post, heh.  Sorry.  I do try to tag longer threads with #long post once they take a couple swipes to scroll through.
I’m prone to fewer/slower replies, especially during weekdays.  Fyi, mun lives in the Pacific Time Zone, and is more likely to be active in the evening.
This blog can tread some pretty dark/angsty/violent/emotional ground and I’m fine with that … but I know not everyone is.  I try to tag the big triggers, but if there is ever anything anyone wants me to tag - no matter if it’s a trigger or squick or whatever - please let me know.
And since we’re here: please, if you feel like you need to unfollow for any reason, you do you boo!  That’s not just for subject matter but also because I’m an adult mun and I know that’s something that not everyone’s cool with. Your well-being will always be more important than following me - or anyone, for that matter! You are the curator of your Tumblr experience and if I can help you keep it safe by tagging or just not being part of it, that’s totally ok!
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Jack-O: she/her. Was human and female-presenting back in ye olden days (aside from that – up to interpretation). Besides her murder she doesn’t really remember her life, but she does get the faintest sensations of déjà vu that call back to who she once was.  
Mun: she/her (but I’m comfortable with nb adjectives like they, too).  Ace panro and more-or-less cis (I think?).  Adult.  Absolute nerd with too many hobbies and never enough time.  RP-main is @Malady-red-rp (’Malady’), non-RP-main is @Inga-DON-Studio.    
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Jack-O is based on the non-canon Halloween-y version of Nightmare Chica from FNAF4: The Halloween Update with … a lot of creative license thrown in.
Basic backstory below if you want to read it (it’s sort of ramble-y - eventually I’ll try to simplify it but hopefully it does the job for now):
Essentially, she’s a several-hundred-year-old dream-demon (aka a Nightmare in her universe) who took the shape of her prey’s greatest terrors and fed on their fear via relentless, ongoing ‘hunts’ in the mindscape and in waking nightmares.  She would usually be freed from her chosen form once her prey’s mind was too shattered-apart from the constant assault to maintain a singular, cohesive personification of their fears, but on that last hunt … the situation never reached that conclusion. Thus, she’s stuck in the form that The Crying Child’s mind created for her before his death as a result of complications from The Bite of ’83 and his weakened state from the Nightmares’ attacks.  Some things went down with the other Halloween Nightmares that night, resulting in her complete abandonment of the hunt and what it was to be a Nightmare (the birb done woke).  Thirty years of coming to grips with all the evil she had done over the centuries and one hell of a massive guilt complex, she wants –more than anything- to try to put some good back into the world, even if she knows it will never balance out what she has taken from it.  
She awoke to October’s calling on Oct. 1st, 2018 to find herself in a multiverse of sorts- and just kind of rolled with it.   There were plenty of familiar faces – and many, many new ones – and she quickly embraced the chance at a new start, silently promising to try to stand up against the literal and metaphorical representations of what she once was.  As she made friends who have become the truest sense of a found family, she has become fiercely protective of the people she cares about … even if sometimes she’s a little lost on how to really help them.  Hey, just cuz she’s a few hundred years old doesn’t mean that there isn’t still plenty left for her to learn - and she knows it.
I do reference back to some past events (like Ink Stains) and she mentions other muses on occasion – some no longer active around here but remembered as cherished friends who left a lasting, important impact on her.  No, you’re not expected to know about them.  It’s just an important little part of who she is- that she doesn’t let go of things easily now that she has people and memories worth holding onto…
(The Ink Stains event was a biggie because she was one of the corrupted, and for the first time it forced her unwillingly back into something like the Nightmare she once was.  It also cemented in her mind how important the people in her afterlife are to her, and how much she needs them.  So, mentions of ink and corruption still find their way into conversations fairly often.)
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hellph · 4 years
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Hey Char! I hope you're doing well and staying safe! Would you mind giving our group here an opinion when you can? We'd really appreciate it. Thank you in advance!
hey there! sorry for the delayed response but thanks for wanting my two cents lol please keep in mind this is all purely suggestion, not personal, and overall just how i would do things! under the read more ‘cause i’m a long winded bitch.
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THEME: It’s nice easy to navigate theme which is always a plus to have especially when making it accessible to everyone. However it feels like it is severely lacking in color and is super minimalist. Which I mean if that’s your sort of thing then so be it. But I personally think it could use a small face lift, give it a dash more bit of color, give it a little more to look at.
PLOT: So I dig the plot, super to the point while also giving the reader plenty to read and mull over. I also dig that you guys include a timeline and subplots section which adds to the main plot and gives a little bit more information. So overall, great plot, all flows together really well and makes plenty of sense.
RULES/GUIDELINES: I would make the section/bit about themes its own section instead of including it with the reserved face claims (might have been a mistake that got overlooked but honestly just a small thing.) Honestly I’m impressed with your rules/guidelines as those are the most important things to have! You guys have clearly laid out what is or isn’t cool and have fully explained everything. So well done with that, guys!
BANNED FC’S: Alright so your banned face claim list is solely just those that don’t wish to be used in RP with a small mention of underage, deceased, and your retired face claim page. So I would highly recommend that you take a look at other RPG and RPH banned face claims lists and to use your judgement and research/look into each one. Because as an admin and general RPer there are certain face claims that shouldn’t be included/allowed in any setting especially those that are SEVERELY problematic. Like maybe you guys are leaving it up to your members to make the call and are trusting them which I get! But including problematic face claims is just...a good way to cover your asses in case someone comes around snooping and really wants to be a downright cunt about things. Trust me, it happens. There’s always someone out there who thinks they know best and love to tell admins how to run their RPG’s. So yea, cover your asses, look at a few other RPG’s and RPH’s with banned face claims list, and just do your own research/looking into them because some people on this site love to label someone as problematic when in reality they just don’t like them and don’t want others to use them. Or they’re simply just too goddamn lazy to research further than the initial “is such and such problematic” and reads the first article that pops up without digging deeper.
APPLICATION: They’re all really good and simple to understand, know exactly what to fill out, etc. However and this seems to be a theme for RPG’s ‘cause this is like the third time I’ve seen it. You have on your sidebar under the SITE INFO that you are an appless / multi-muse superpower rp, but in the application page at the beginning in bold, you have; 
NOTE: All first-time applicants MUST include a paragraph sample with their general application. This can be written either IC for the character you’re applying as or it can be a piece from something else. It should be a minimum of 2-3 decent paragraphs. If a paragraph sample is not included, your application will be rejected.
This right here does not make you an appless RPG or anyone else for that matter who uses the appless tag or has it somewhere on their main blog. Now I’m from the old days of RPG’s (hence the usage of RPG and not RP) so apps included para samples like you were interviewing for a job lol And that’s what y’all and some others have going on. Appless means that there is no audition/interview/para sample of any sort, just the basic application. So yea, I would talk among yourselves and figure out if you’re actually appless or not and if you’re not, don’t use the appless rp tag and remove it from your sidebar section.
LAST THOUGHTS: So overall I think you guys have a pretty solid RPG going on. You have a lovely navigation that is organized and is easy to navigate as well as serving to inform. Yea, other than the few suggestions I made, I think you guys are good to go and I wish you the best of luck! 
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sunsetcurve · 4 years
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Waves of Thunder * Family Danger Chapter 3
Sorry, at work right now but I know a big chunk of this chapter was Thunderbolt related, so I just inserted the whole thing. 😬
The Man Cave was in shambles ever since Charlotte left. At least that was exactly how Henry made it out every time he called her for an emergency. She went with it a while. Henry was pretty dependent in some aspects and she had only given him a couple of weeks to wrap his head around the changes. Eventually, though, she simply had to tell him very firmly that she couldn't continue to do this. 
She had a job search. She had weekly labs. She was going out for an internship. She just… couldn't coddle him. “Henry, Schwoz is standing right next to you. I can hear him breathing. The man taught me practically everything I know about the place. Turn to him for this help…”
“LAAAAAME!!!” Henry practically shouted. She just held the phone and blinked her eyes, with a sigh, staring ahead. He was about to say something when she started speaking to someone in her background.
“Hey. What're you doing here? I thought our thing was tomorrow?”
“I got here early for some meetings. Want me to go?” A guy said. 
Henry suddenly and oddly felt bothered by this call intrusion. “Who dat?” 
“No. I was just saying goodbye.”
“No you weren't,” Henry claimed.
But, she didn't hear him. Instead, she said into the phone, “Bye, Hen. Good luck on your mission.”
“Oh, that's Henry? Heyyy, Henry!” He said into the mouthpiece. 
She giggled the way that she had when she met Captain Man at Jasper's birthday party. Henry noted this because he didn't hear that type of behavior much from her. She wasn't very giggly. “Get outta my personal space, Max!” She said. Henry doubted she meant it from her giggling, and WHO was Max? “Max says 'Hi,’ but also 'Bye’ because you've got an emergency and we've got science things.”
“What kinda science things?” Henry asked, but Ray shouted,
“Like, right now, Kid!” He punched the enemy, but held onto his phone.
Before Charlotte hung up he heard her say to this Max, “From the sound of it, he's the fight. Probably wouldn't remember you anyway.” Her voice was fading as the phone headed for her bag. “He'll remember your sister.”
“He still crushing on her?”
“Who knows?” And she hung up. 
Henry was fighting as he put his phone away. He'd definitely look into this later! Who the jack was Max? And who was this sister of his that he had allegedly crushed on? And was she still hot? But more importantly, whether or not she was, who was that Max guy to Charlotte? 
Science things were usually not discussed between them. To be frank, they bored him and she didn't need to waste her breath, for both their sakes. But this sounded suspiciously like science things, but being enjoyed with a guy. A guy that made her giggle. A giggle with zero effort. It's not like he was jealous, but he probably should at least size this dude up. Charlotte never dated in school. Her parents didn't allow it. She could hang out with friends all day every day if she wanted, but no boyfriends and no dates. Only high school graduates could date in her house, an unfair stipulation, considering that she was an only child.
But, Henry was distracting himself. He and Ray bagged their bad guy and he headed home shortly after that.
He and Charlotte spoke a few more times, while playing on their live video games, and he called her a few times, but she apparently had gotten the internship she was shooting for. All she'd texted was, “Got my internship. Yay!” 
But, her social media post had, “So grateful for this opportunity. The youngest intern for this program in a decade. The only freshman this year. Big ups to my parents, teachers, mentors, and special thanks to Max for so many nights of helping me with my entry project. #TheScienceBroIBeenWaitnFo” Then she included hearts, hugs and kisses emojis. Why hadn't his text been so impassioned?
Henry stared at it for a while before going to the comments and reading an entire 46 comments thread of exchange between her and this guy. 
To sum it up, Dude was super excited for her, and said so, and included a bunch of emojis of his own, and they spoke science here and there, some simple, some went over Henry's head, but the thing that didn't was Max's use of parentheses when he repeated Science “Bros.” 
Now… it was very much so possible that in the short span of time that Henry guessed she knew this dude, he'd quickly caught on to her penchant for not being a “bro,” but since in this rare instance SHE used it, he figured that Max was hinting at something else and honestly, it was on his nerves. 
He checked out the guy's page. “Maxy-T. Corny,” he muttered. But, he looked familiar… Then, Henry saw photos of he and the sister. “Phoebe? This is Phoebe's brother, Max???” That dude was a villain, last time he knew of. Oh, but in his profile, it clearly stated that he'd left villainy behind to be the best hero he could be. Henry groaned, but couldn't force himself to leave the page. Mainly because there were a lot of photos of Char there. She wasn't tagged, so he hadn't seen them before, but they were like… uncomfortably cozy.
One was of her in a lab of some sort, in her pajamas and protective gear, side-by-side with one of her at a science gala, all dressed up and… surprisingly hot, Henry had to admit. The caption said: Get you a girl that can do both. And Charlotte had liked the post and commented with a smile and a wink. “Oh! Okay.” Henry said, nodding as he continued stalking the page. 
One was a video of Charlotte in this field of sunflowers, wearing sunflowers and doing one of those dance challenges. He… didn't know Char could dance like that! And then she levitated? Must have been with Max's help. The caption said: Hope floats. #DoYouLoveMe #SheGotMeInMyFeelings “EXCUSE ME???”
While he was yet stalking, dude went live. “Hey, we're here at Char's lab, working when we should be celebrating…”
She giggled from the background and said, “Oh, so you're gonna shade me like this? I steal your lab?” 
“Charlotte's lab, that Charlotte built with her own two hands and is at working, everyday…” 
Her face appeared to interject, “He totally let me borrow his lab everyday. I was only pushy the first time!” They both laughed and exchanged looks and whatever the look was, Henry hated it.
Whenever they talked, she didn't mention Max, and whenever Henry brought him up, she laughed it off and changed the subject. One of the times that they were talking, Henry was in the Man Cave and Ray came upon their conversation. “Is that Charlotte?” He asked and rushed over, jumping into Henry and Charlotte's video call. 
“Dude!”
“Hey, Ray!!!” Charlotte cheered and waved both hands. 
“Charlotte,” he folded his arms, “I've been told you're fraternizing with the kid that turned us over to a room full of villains.” 
“It's not that serious, Ray. We hang out. Besides, that's in his past. He's legit Z-Force, now. Actually, he loves pranks. I think that you'd get along with him, now.”
“Oh because he loves pranks?” Ray asked.
Henry chimed in, laughing, “Yeah, just because he loves pranks.”
Ray: I mean… I also love a good prank.
Henry: Yeah, a good prank is worth a lot to me.
Charlotte: He'll be here soon, if you wanna chat 
Henry suddenly remembered his frustrations, “No! I was checking on you, because you two seem like you're dating. This guy's older, has had way more dates, probably. Probably has a lot of groupies.”
“Superpower groupies,” Ray added.
“The absolute most desperate of groupies.”
“That isn't a lie,” Ray bragged.
Charlotte told them, “The most insulting thing about this conversation is that both of you think that there's something that you would think of that I wouldn't.”
Ray informed her, “We know how guys think.”
“Oh yea? What do you guys think he's thinking about?” 
They both stuttered and Ray finally answered, “Well, grown up sleepovers, for one.”
“Yeah!” Henry seconded, then shuddered, “Gross.”
“Oh, it's gross that someone would be interested in me?” Charlotte snapped. Henry tried to explain that wasn't what year meant, but she had ran with it, “For your information, I love grown up sleepovers and I'm told that I'm excellent at it!” 
“I'm out,” Ray said, leaving the conversation. Busting Charlotte's chops, maybe even giving that Max kid a hard time, he had been ready for, but one of his “kids” having grown up sleepovers? That was where he tapped out.
“Charlotte, that isn't what I was getting at, but wait, what? You've… slept over with that dude? Do your parents know?”
“Do yours know about your… things?”
“That's different. My parents are super not attached. Yours used to have you keep tabs of where you were and who you were with in Goofle Drive.” He laughed, remembering that.
“My parents know that I'm seeing Max and they support me, unlike my so-called best friend who hasn't had anything nice to say to me in months.”
“Char..  I have had plenty of nice things. I just kept them to myself.”
“That's helpful.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Match the wingperson energy that I gave you for every single girl you were interested in during the course of this friendship.”
“I don't recall.”
“I encouraged you to ask Bianca out, and after you made me regret it by basically making a fool of yourself, I still motivated you to tell her how you felt before the world ended. And because of it, when the world kept existing, you'd gotten a kiss and a girlfriend!”
“Okay, that did happen, but…”
“Then you rejected my very helpful advice to NOT try to do a dual identity date with her and Chloe. And after you didn't listen, you spent most of the night isolating me from my other friends to try to advise you through a problem that I never would have been stupid enough to find myself in.”
“Char…”
“And you never even said thank you, or more importantly SORRY!”
“I see your point.”
“Henry, you once told me that you would never date me because I was like a sister to you.”
“You said that you wouldn't date me because I was a dishonest idiot and it already complicated your life enough just being my friend!”
“And… that was true then and is true now. But, you're acting… not like my brother. You don't pull this with Piper.”
“I don't feel the same way about Piper as I do about you,” he blurted out. 
“Precisely. And like the idiot that I said you were, you waited until I found someone else to acknowledge this. I'm not Chloe, Henry. I'm not giving you a shot because you decided that you don't want to see me with someone else. Especially when I was there to witness herbe neglected until she left for Kids in the Woods.”
“I don't want to date you.’
“Good. Then there's no reason that you can't be supportive.”
“Yeah. Well, I gotta go. Swellview emergency.”
“Cool. Be careful out there.”
“Will do.”
Flashback:
Charlotte told Henry, “We should come up with a backup story. We'll need cover if Jasper is ever going to buy that we're dating. My cover is that we're keeping it a secret because my parents won't allow me to date. Easiest fiction is something steeped in the truth.”
“Oh, yeah, your parents don't let you date. Now, you ewwwing at me makes sense.”
“We made the sound at the same time, and that's not the reason that I did.”
“Friends should never date. First off, you might ruin the friendship and on top of that, I mean, I see you like a sister. You understand.”
“I don't understand any of that. If I were going to date, I'd definitely want the person to be my friend first. I want us to have common ground. I want us to have things that we can share together as friends even though we're dating. And, I have literally never thought of anyone as a sibling. Maybe it's because I am an only child, or maybe it's just because we have such different ways, you couldn't have possibly ever grew up as my sibling. My parents would have disowned you by now.”
“Harsh, but realistic… WAIT! Then why'd you say EWWW?”
“I said ewww, because you're a dishonest idiot and it already complicates my life enough just being your friend.”
“Charlotte, that's the rudest thing you've ever said to me… but it's maybe true, possibly.”
“I don't need you to tell me that I'm making sense. What about your cover? Jasper will have so many questions and most of them, I'm sure he'll ask you.”
Henry waved her off, “Between the two of us, no matter what we say, he'll believe us.”
Having a hectic schedule, but still no paycheck was a bummer. Charlotte really needed one of these searches to come through. As she played videogames with Henry and Jasper, she complained about it on the headset. 
“Why don't you see if Ray has something you could do from there?” Henry wondered.
“He's been a lit.tle. fussy with me since my notice. Henry, do you really think Ray might consider that?”
“Don't see why not. He often asks me 'Are you and Charlotte talking again? I have wanna ask her something!”
“When were we not talking?”
“He only means that he knows I'm no longer a priority.”
She paused for just a moment and her character was almost killed! She took a moment, put her head back in the game, and practically whispered, “You’ll always be a priority, Hen.” He smiled to himself, and even though she couldn’t see him, she countered, “Don’t be smiling.”
A/N: I usually do these at the front, but I wanted to just tag this bit of info in here… I do not know WHO I got the idea of Charlotte + Max Thunderman, and I’ve seen very little of the Thundermans, so Idek none about them. If I’m OOC with him or whatever, charge it to my head and not my heart. 
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