#but y'know he has... plausible deniability

[seawitchkaraoke]

I love how much Joe just loves helping people, like a hermit will say on stream ''hmm where did my silktouch shovel go'' or ''hmm i need some nametags'' and Joe will log in 3 seconds later and appear in their base 5 seconds later like ''hi! i have the thing you need, here you go!'' and then disappear again like some benevolent faerie or something

which is also why, out of everyone, Doc really can't blame Joe for covering the perimeter, because the buttercups asked for help! it's instinct! Grian, Scar and mumbo probably went ''hey we need some help-'' and Joe was logged in before they could even finish the sentence ''- covering Doc's perimeter''

Like the other hermits likely helped partly because it's nice to have something to do while having a meeting and partly because fucking with Doc is funny but Joe? No Joe simply can't not help someone!

(Of course this does also benefit Doc because Joe already gifted him a bunch of shulkers full of sand when he heard about Doc's sand problem without even needing to be asked)

#joe hills #joehills #hermitcraft #docm77 #now joe probably also thought covering the perimeter was hilarious #but y'know he has... plausible deniability #anyway it's really sweet how he will just. hear someone needs smth and just immediatly go get it for them if he can

[tomwambsgans]

i fully believe that (on top of likely a conservative and/or catholic upbringing) tom has managed to totally repress his homosexuality by rationalizing his lack of real for desire for women as simply having really high standards. shiv was a fixation of his for the promise of power that a relationship with her wielded, which he internally attached to her objective physical asthetic and his sexual narcissism that allows him to be aroused by the mere concept of sex that involves himself. plus frankly inside of him, underneath all his bullshit, is a genuine drive for romance and true love and specifically monogamy, the romanticization of which is yet another factor in his attachment to shiv. yes, he loves her, but a lot of circumstances outside of him being innately attracted to women had to come together to make that happen. there's a lot of sense of obligation, both to her as a person and to his duty of being successful. of being the right kind of man.

ntm that when they have their stag night arrangement, part of tom struggling to get someone is def partially that he's using rules outside of himself to decide what woman he wants. as in, trying to decide which women he's supposed to want. ultimately the woman he chooses looks a lot like shiv - objectively striking, with cat-like features. it's really easy to think that you're attracted to women when you simply tell yourself that your type is the ones that "look interesting" (which i say from experience, lol)

and y'know it's funny, for all that tom clearly turns his desire for men into violence and control and other classic toxic masculinity-esque type shit, he still has a genuinely kind of... foppish way about him? like, yeah by definition all these rich guys technically do, but tom is different, and not just because he wasn't born into it. if the roy boys have the zuckerberg vibe, his is dorian gray. he's airy, he's dramatic, he's... dare i say, softer? in a way that there's plausible deniability for - the way that wealth is often correlated with some effeminacy, especially for british old money types. moreso, the way that money is an excuse for effeminacy. when a working-class guy cares about designer brands, is extremely hygenic, loves wine, etc, he's automatically assumed to be gay; when a rich guy cares about all those things? no one bats an eye. and i really do think that if it wasn't a factor in him pursuing it in the first place, then tom at least now essentially uses his exuberantly wealthy lifestyle as a tool to buffer his inclinations. perhaps even to the extent that he can sometimes have this sense of awareness of what he is and that he only chooses not to do anything about it.

which is then wild for its self-fulfilling nature - he's deeply ambitious for the sort of power that can protect him, but as he's moved higher and higher his environment only became more and more hostile to actually being himself.

......and THEN of course along came greg, who is genuinely key to tom accepting himself somewhere down the road (or at least coming the closest that he COULD get) bc he's the man through whom tom is gonna be able to subvert the heterosexual path that he'd set for himsef - push his wife down the stairs and marry him instead - proving that he doesn't need all that in order to Succeed with a capital S. at which point would at the very least be the thematically, narratively perfect moment for him to be fully grounded in what he really wants. he just needs to see with his own two eyes that it's not going to be world-shattering and then he can take it.

#tom wambsgans #gay tom wambsgans #tomgreg #mine #meta #tom #gay tom thoughts have consumed my every waking moment ngl

[stickthisbig]

Kinktober, Day 4

Using this opportunity to post some things that are a little less polished, and/or were supposed to be standalone stories but never quite clicked. So! Kink of the day is prostitution, here's some Edvard/Kasimir/Zillah.

There isn't a specific sign that people who buy and sell use. You just kind of know; more importantly, you just don't know. Nothing to flag it for the bluecoats, a nice bit of privacy and plausible deniability. Kasimir is just sitting at a table, surveying the patrons and looking dangerous, and that's all it ever has to be.

Edvard appears, cutting off his view of most of the bar. "Good evening," he says. "I wondered if I might have a moment of your time."

Kasimir takes a long sip from his pint, looking Edvard up and down, making him wait. "Depends on what you want it for."

"I'm perfectly willing to make it worth your while," Edvard tells him. "I understand that time is coin."

"Then have a seat," Kasimir says. 

-

"The only issue is that I feel certain that we'll get caught," Edvard says.

"Doing what?" Kasimir says. "Playing pretend ain't illegal." 

"Yes, but what will people think?" Edvard says. "They know us there." 

"I don't live in the kind of world where people get precious about hustling," Kasimir says. "They've seen us together loads of times. Worst case, one of them goes 'Why's he making the little guy pay for it?'"

"You're the little guy, surely," Edvard says. "I'm two inches taller than you."

"You're definitely the little guy, y'know, spiritually," Kasimir says. "Lilith said that's called a short king."

"You're both the little guy," Zillah says. 

--

"You see, it's not me asking for myself," Edvard says. "I'm very happily married."

"That doesn't stop a lot of men," Kasimir says.

"Perhaps not," Edvard says. "I want to engage your services for my wife."

"Because you can't deliver?" Kasimir suggests. "Need to hire extra muscle?"

"Oh, no," Edvard says with a smile. "That isn't it at all."

Kasimir cocks an eyebrow at him. "Then what is it?"

"My understanding is that you can be quite cruel," Edvard says. 

"Only if your lady wife is into that stuff," Kasimir says. 

"It matters to you?" Edvard asks. 

"You want an assailant, mate, you can buy one anywhere," Kasimir says, unimpressed. "That ain't what I'm selling."

"A finer product, then," Edvard says, and Kasimir shrugs expressively. "She's mine, and she'll do as I tell her. I want to watch her take it. I want to prove to her that she loves it." Edvard leans forward. "I want that woman obliterated, and I want to hear her beg for more."

"Then we might be able to do business," Kasimir says. 

--

"Yeah, but what's the point?" Kasimir says. "What's the object of doing it like this?"

"Apart from wanting to watch?" Edvard says.

"Yeah," Kasimir says. "I'll show off any old time."

"It's really hot?" Zillah offers.

"I need a little more than that," Kasimir says. "Sometimes that's good enough, but sometimes it isn't."

"Why wouldn't I want it?" Zillah says. "My handsome, kinda sadistic husband brings home help as a mindgame? Torn between being righteous and being good? I dunno about you two, but that sounds like exactly the kind of shit I'd be into."

Kasimir pauses. "Well, when you put it like that."

"Trust me, Kasimir," Edvard says. "It'll be fantastic."

--

Kasimir stands at Edvard's shoulder, hands gripping the finial of his cane. He looks like a brute, a bruiser, the kind of man you wouldn't want knowing your address, much less coming inside.

Zillah's wearing the only frilly thing she owns, a dressing gown Edvard bought for her when she saw it in a shop window. "This can't be what you want me to do," she says, holding it closed even though it's tied at her waist.

"Of course it is, dear," Edvard says. "The sooner you let the nice man fuck you, the sooner we can all move on."

"Why should I do a thing like that?" Zillah asks.

"Because I told you to, darling," Edvard says. "You already know you'll do as you're told."

"No offense, mate, but let a professional handle this," Kasimir says, pushing Edvard back none too gently.

"I beg your pardon," Edvard says.

"By the end of the night?" Kasimir says. "I bet you will."

Zillah doesn't speak, just letting Kasimir approach. "Don't worry about him, angel, he's just the money," he tells her, in his most ingratiating voice. "I'm Kasimir. Let's get a little more comfortable and see how long it takes your husband to realize he dug his own grave."

"This wasn't the arrangement," Edvard says.

"I'm sure you didn't think it was," Kasimir says.

"Can I get you some tea?" Zillah asks. "Or maybe something stronger?"

"Oh, you can get me something stronger alright," Kasimir says, taking her by the arm and conducting her towards the bedroom.

"This is an outrage," Edvard says, following along quickly. He might get left if he doesn't keep up, and what if he has to be outraged out in the hallway alone? Honestly, it doesn't bear thinking about.

#oxventure fic #kinktober 2023 #s does kinktober

[prince-of-elsinore]

It's so crazy to me how a CW show sort-of-barely managed to skirt around the edges of such a subversively unconventional relationship. Make it the focus of a fifteen-year series and yet always maintain just enough plausible deniability. Like, the casual viewer just sees two intensely loyal brothers who stick together to stop apocalypses and fight monsters, because they need each other's help to do the job. The general audience is meant to admire Sam and Dean's brotherly devotion and not examine it too closely. Because as soon as you pick and poke at it, you realize just how insane it really is. Their whole lives have revolved around each other, from the start, at the expense of just about every friend they ever made, and even family. They can't--choose not to--maintain romantic relationships while the other is around. They settle down in an underground bunker together. But the GA can tune in to the middle of Sam and Dean's "tangled up crazy thing" and just see two dudes hunting ghosts, bros being bros.

And then there's the finale! Apocalypses are over and these guys are still living in their bunker, apparently in their form of domestic bliss. I mean they have a dog together, you guys. The brothers adopted a dog. Together. And they take a trip to a pie festival, just 'cause. That's the sort of thing they do together. With each other. They have grocery shopped together, vacationed together, lived together, for years. And they seem perfectly happy to stay on that course, no mention of getting out or getting married or, y'know, anything remotely normal. This is their lives. As soon as there's no threat on the horizon that they have to team up to fight off, it throws the weirdness of their relationship into relief. And well, the show can't have that. Can't show, too directly, that these two brothers are queerplatonic life partners. One, queerplatonic relationships in general are not well-understood by the general public, and two, they're brothers! So even if the relationship is platonic, the fact that they are so clearly life partners is weird.

So, if you kill one of them off, it solves the problem, right? Nope. Because there's an afterlife in this universe. And sure, one of the brothers did get out, settle down, maybe got married, and had a kid--but only because he had to, without his brother around. Does the GA think about that? Idk man, idk. Then there's the real kicker: the heaven reunion. The GA thinks aw, that's nice. Good, they're together. They're happy. But wait--what about Sam's blurry wife? At this point, you have to believe one of two things. Either blurry wife gets to heaven and Sam's like 'oh sweet my wife's here, well I will see you around Dean' and peaces out while Dean, who got to heaven and was like 'not perfect without my brother' is left partnerless in the afterlife, just driving around in Baby on his own and occasionally stopping by to visit Sam and his wife--you know, normal brother stuff. But anyone who's been watching the show would be kidding themselves if they believe that's the case. The other option, the one true to Sam and Dean's characterizations for fifteen years, is that they are spending eternity together. Maybe Sam visits his blurry wife, maybe he doesn't. Either way, it forces you to realize that blurry wife, whether really a wife or just a co-parent... wasn't all that important to Sam. Not saying he couldn't love her, but the only way it makes sense is if their relationship was not afterlife-partners material. In fact, it wouldn't be fair to her if she saw Sam as the love of her life, her soulmate. I hope blurry wife has someone else (I hc her as a widow when she met Sam) or is a very independent spirit, because she's not living (after-living?) with Sam in heaven.

The show just leaves the brothers together on the bridge, but the implications are pretty staggering when you think about it. Does the GA think about it? Because the idea of two brothers' souls spending eternity together in heaven is definitely unconventional and yeah, even subversive. So much so that the show seems to shy away from its own suggestions. It literally can't linger on them too long or the GA would think it's weird. BECAUSE IT IS WEIRD.

#well that got long when all i really wanted was to jot down some thoughts on my fave codependent bros #so in honor of valentine's day have this rant about their wacky love! #spn meta #sam and dean meta #spn finale #none of these thoughts are particularly original but. i just had to sort of process out loud lol #my meta #winchester brothers #spn #weirdchesters

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Float Like A Butterfly... Ch. 8: As It Should Be?

Summary: An unexpected revelation.

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

"Father hasn't said anything so I don't think I can go out," Adrien stated gloomily, shoulders drooping.

"Dude, that sucks!" Nino scowled through the screen like he was contemplating giving Gabriel a piece of his mind. "... Waddya mean? Did he, like, ignore you?"

Adrien flopped onto his bed, holding the phone over him. "That implies he actually met with me," Adrien scoffed. "No, I asked Nathalie."

"Every time," Nino muttered, glaring past Adrien at the absent so-called parent. Shaking his head, Nino's expression softened as he refocused on Adrien. "We could video chat like we're doing now? Won't be the same as you being there but it's something."

Adrien smiled at Nino's thoughtfulness. "That sounds-"

Terrible.

Expression falling, Adrien pressed his lips together. Spending any time at all with his friends was always great. But... But he could be there! With them! Having fun instead of watching them have fun!

Adrien set his jaw and furrowed his brow. "Y'know what? No. I'll meet you guys at Alya's."

"You gonna sneak out!?" Nino leaned into the camera, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Plausible deniability!" Adrien countered, trying to keep his twitching lips from morphing into a smile.

Vibrating in place, Nino's grin got even bigger. "Ooh! Whatever you say, bro. See ya there!"

Ending the call, Adrien leapt to his feet. "C'mon, Pollen! We're going to see my friends!" Adrien took out the Bee's comb and used it to anchor his ponytail.

Finishing the last of her brioche, Pollen dabbed at her mouth with a mini handkerchief.

Adrien resisted the urge to comment on how adorable she looked. "So cute," he whispered. Dang it.

Zipping toward him once she was done, Pollen dipped in a bow. "Alya, Nino and Marinette, yes?"

Brightening in excitement, Adrien nodded. "We're all going to Alya's place! I've never been but Nino and Marinette have gone tons of times!"

Pollen smiled softly as Adrien practically bounced on his feet. Hands animatedly flowing with his words.

"This'll be the third, no fourth, time I've been invited to a friend's house!" Adrien grinned. "I haven't hung out with them since..." He looked down, smile slipping hands falling to his side. "Since..."

"... Well, then we better make this time count," Pollen prompted gently. "Let's go have fun!"

"Yeah." Adrien shook his head and set his jaw. "Yeah! Pollen, transforme-moi!"

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

Aristos detransformed as he landed in a nearby alley, hanging back until his friend's arrived. Pollen ooh-ing at the Cesaire's apartment building. Adrien's foot tapping against the concrete.

"You mentioned that Alya runs the preeminent information network on superheroes in all of Paris?" Pollen asked.

Adrien felt a twinge in his chest at the mention of the Ladyblog but Pollen's curious eyes soothed it. "That's a good way to put it. Alya gets the best videos," Adrien smiled fondly, "She's a little too cavalier about rushing into danger though."

"How industrious," Pollen praised. "And Alya is courting Nino, your bond brother, correct?"

Adrien hid a giggle behind his hand. "I wouldn't call it 'courting' but yeah. Nino's the coolest! He always has my back and tries to include me in stuff. Like now, actually."

Catching Adrien's giggles, Pollen smiled. Watching Adrien light up as he spoke about his friends was definitely a highlight to being outside the Box. "And Marinette?"

"Oh, she's so thoughtful and compassionate and I really admire her for standing up for others." Adrien rubbed the back of his head. "I'm, so lucky to have them."

Pollen floated a bit closer to him. "I'm sure they're lucky to have you too, Adrien."

Adrien's smile softened at her words, ducking his head a bit. Eyes flickering to the alley's entrance he spotted an unmistakable red cap. "They're here! C'mon, Pollen!"

Zipping into his pocket Pollen peaked out as Adrien ran towards the entrance.

"Bro, you made it!" Nino offered his fist in greeting.

"Wouldn't miss hanging out with all of you, dude!" Adrien bumped it with a grin.

"Adrien! I'm-" Marinette cleared her throat. "Happy you could come."

"Right!?" Nino wrapped an arm around Adrien's shoulders. "It's been forever, dude."

Pollen felt Adrien lean into the contact as his heart sped up, just a bit.

"Yeah... Missed you guys." Adrien smiled softly.

Nino grinned. "C'mon, I wanna see if we can beat Alya and Mari's high score!"

In the end Adrien and Nino held the top spot just long enough for Alya and Nino to take it back. Adrien may have had more practice at dance games but that was by himself. Playing as a team wasn't the same. It was much more fun!

Sneaking a piece of Mme. Cesaire's cooking to Pollen when no one was looking, Adrien held a finger to his lips.

Giggling silently, Pollen nodded as she accepted the treat.

"They're so in sync," Marinette commented as Alya and Nino mirrored each other's dance moves.

"You're right," Adrien agreed, smiling fondly. "Someday I hope I'll find someone I can share everything with...like they... do..." A pressure bloomed in his chest, expression falling as Adrien gripped his arm with his other hand.

Marinette's brow furrowed as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Adrien, you okay?"

"Big finish, here we go!" Nino flourished his arms over his head and stood on one tiptoe. "Yeah!"

Alya laughed at her boyfriend's pose. Nino grinning at the sound.

"Ah, shoot! Did I miss the ballet?" A mocking voice called from the entryway. Alya's older sister stood there with a bag slung over her shoulder and boxing helmet still on her head.

"Nora? Is your match over already?" Alya asked, surprised.

Adrien tried to shake off his melancholy. It was the first time he met Nora, or, uh, Anansi, after all. But still he could only focus on every other word. Like Nora being a professional boxer. That was cool. Adrien wondered how different that was from being a professional fencer. Besides the level of injury, obviously. Maybe he should ask her-

"-can go with Model Boy if they want but you're staying here! It's way too dangerous!" Nora declared.

Wait, what? Adrien's mind sprang back to the present.

"But Nora, I mean, Anansi. You can't do that!" Marinette protested.

Okay, if Marinette was against the idea it was probably bad.

"Yeah, no way, dude! We're not going without Alya!" Nino crossed his arms.

Oh, they were talking about going to the Place de la Concorde! Adrien smiled to himself for piecing it together. Then frowned as he realized Nora -Anansi- didn't want Alya to go with them.

"Listen, I appreciate you worrying about me and all," Alya began reasonably. "But I'm not a little girl anymore. Besides, Maman and Papa are totally cool with it!"

Nora tsk, tsk, tsk-ed at her sister's argument. "There have been way too many akumatized peeps in Paris these last few weeks. Look how many times you've been in direct danger! So you're staying home, safe and sound, period."

"That's so ridiculous! The twins were akumatized right here at home!" Alya pointed out.

"Well, that would've never happened on my watch! I won't let anybody mess with my family!" Nora boasted, slamming a fist into her palm.

Alya gave her a look. "You mean like the other day at the square?"

Adrien remembered hearing about the M. Banana incident. Oh, he'd needed that laugh!

"Uh, er, how was I supposed to know it was just some stupid costume? And besides," Nora deflected, "what would happen if the Ferris wheel stopped working 'cause some akumatized dude refused to pay his fare? Once you flyweights can actually defend yourselves like me-" Nora released a rapid series of attacks to her hypothetical opponent, "-we'll talk about it." 

"It doesn't matter because Ladybug and Ch- Ladybug would save us if there were any problems!" Marinette piped up.

"And she'd have Aristos' help!" Adrien felt pink tinting his cheeks for including himself but he wasn't wrong.

"Oh, yeah? And what are you gonna do if that pair of bugs gets hit with bug spray? What'll you do then?" Nora challenged.

Nino stepped up. "I can protect Alya if I have to!"

Nora laughed. "Yeah? And how exactly are you planning to defeat the villain? A dance off?"

"I-" Nino's brow furrowed, eyes downcast. "I'd do anything to protect Alya."

Alya looked at her boyfriend. Not quite able to place the feeling Nino's statement inspired in her chest.

Adrien placed a hand on Nino's shoulder. "And besides, he's got me backing him up!"

"You?" Nora scoffed. "What's a baby handed pretty boy like you gonna do?"

"Thank you," Adrien was oddly pleased Alya's sister thought he was pretty.

Nora's brow furrowed for some reason.

Pressing on, Adrien squared his shoulders and pointed a thumb at his chest. "I've been fencing since I was three and I'm the number one-" Number two but Nora didn't need to know that. "-fencer at the best school in Paris."

"Oh, really?" Nora leaned down so her nose was mere centimeters from Adrien's.

Suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat Adrien refused to break eye contact.

"...Heh. Alright, Alya can go with you."

Adrien blinked, a smile blooming on his face. "Really? That's-"

"But I'm going with you."

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

Alya smiled tightly as Nora scanned the Ferris wheel for threats.

"Are you sure it's okay that she came along?" Adrien asked with a frown.

"Yup! No problem. Why would it bother me that my older sister feels like she has to chaperone me?"

Adrien patted her on the back in sympathy.

Alya sighed. "Still, thank you. It's not easy changing Nora's mind, believe me."

Rubbing the back of his head, Adrien's smile softened. "I had to back up my bro."

They glanced behind them were Marinette was making progress with a slightly sulky Nino.

"Besides, I... know what it's like not being allowed out."

Alya bumped shoulders with Adrien and gave him a grin. "Good thing we have you then."

Eyes widening, Adrien averted his gaze. Suddenly warm and fuzzy all over. "Yeah-" he grinned, "-guess so."

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

"I can't believe you got akumatized over this!" Alya exclaimed, masking the tremor in her voice with annoyance. Anansi, currently a badass looking spider, unfortunately webbed up the Ferris wheel's workings so she could more easily grab the glass bubble they were trapped in.

"Told ya it was dangerous, little sis!" Anansi leapt from the wheel to the ground-

"WHOA!"

-and grabbed Alya from inside.

"Alya!" Nino grabbed for her but his hand closed around empty air.

"Thought you said you could protect everybody, Blondie!" Anansi called down from her perch. "Come and get her if y'all aren't flyweights!"

"No no no no!" Nino bolted after the akuma, dodging the webs she shot back.

"Nino!" Adrien and Marinette called in unison.

"I'm not a flyweight and I don't need your help to prove it!"

Adrien stared after him as Nino crawled over cars to avoid the webs. Hand outstretched...

"Adrien we should find somewhere to hide!"

Shaking his head, Adrien looked at Marinette. "Right... Probably better if we go separately."

"We don't have to- I mean! Yes, absolutely! It's... safer that way."

I don't need your help.

Shut up! Adrien ran as his heart was squeezed in a vice. He didn't mean it like that!

I don't need your help.

Finding a secluded corner, Adrien paused and took deep breaths.

I don't need your help.

Pollen flew out of his pocket and hovered uncertainly.

Exhaling shakily, Adrien glanced up at her. "That is the upteenth time... Hawkmoth has ruined my day."

"... Then we should educate him on how valuable a king's time can be, Adrien."

Adrien wiped at his eyes, which narrowed dangerously. "Hell, yeah. Pollen, transforme-moi!"

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

Ladybug swung down and transformed back into Marinette. Practically running towards Master Fu's door. Worry Nino might do something foolish gnawing at her insides. Aristos would come, Marinette knew he would, but he couldn't purify the akuma without her.

And that meant, she knocked loudly on the door, that she had to hurry!

The Miracle Box was barely open before she was reaching for his ring again.

"Marinette."

Something in Master Fu's voice made her hesitate.

Clearing his throat, the Guardian continued. "This is the fifth time in a row you've chosen the Black Cat Miraculous."

"I know, Master. But it's the only one that stands out! All the other Miraculous blur together but Chat's- I mean, the ring, calls to me... Because I know that he should still be by my side." Marinette gave him a pleading look.

Master Fu sighed, looking away. "Be careful, Ladybug."

Face falling, Marinette nodded. "I will, Master." And took her partner's ring from the Miracle Box for the last time.

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

Nino was being an idiot. He knew that. Letting an akumatized villain bait him into confronting her head on? Total noob move.

Still. Turning back never crossed his mind. Nino had always been the protective type... Granted his protection generally took the form of staving off Adrien's loneliness as much as he could or reminding his little brother to share his toys.

But still! Nora wasn't wrong. Nino did feel like he could be doing... more.

Hence him 'fighting' Anansi with a random pipe he found lying around.

"Babe, your doing great but I really think you should let the heroes handle this one!" Alya called down from the web Anansi had spun between the pillars of the Arc de Triomphe.

Nino swung again as Anansi easily evaded his attacks. "Everything's fine!"

"Psh! You haven't even landed a hit!"

As soon as the taunt left Anansi's lips Nino connected with her face. His pleased expression fading as she turned her glare on him.

"... Heh."

Nino was sure his screams could be heard in the next arrondissement as he sailed through the air.

"Gotcha!"

The sound of whirring preceded Nino's sudden shift in direction. Looking up from the strong arms keeping him from going splat he saw yellow. "Aristos!"

"Sorry I'm late!" The Bee grinned. "A naughty spider trapped a buncha people on a Ferris wheel!"

"You're not going anywhere!" Anansi launched a strand of webbing at the Bee; latching onto his ankle.

"Whoa!" Aristos curled around Nino as Anansi pulled them to the ground. Taking the brunt of the impact.

"You're just a little bug trapped in my web!" Anansi leapt forward with her right arms cocked back.

Without thinking, Aristos rolled over his best friend, back to Anansi. Nino's eyes widening as he realized what was about to happen.

"NO!"

Anansi was yanked backwards mid leap. Landing awkwardly as Ladybug reeled in her yo-yo, which was tied around two of Anansi's right arms.

"Not this time!" Ladybug called.

Turning on the ball of her feet Anansi rushed towards the hero. "Finally! You show up!" Her fists crack the asphalt where Ladybug was just standing.

Leaping over her opponent's long limbs Ladybug set her foot against Anansi's back. Taking the opportunity to tie her yo-yo around a left arm she pulled tight.

"Hey! Let go!" Anansi struggled against her restraints, muscles straining.

Ladybug's grip slipping. "Aristos now!"

"Venom!" Aristos launched himself forward.

Right as Anansi wrenched Ladybug off her feet.

Aristos had just enough time to twist his top away from Ladybug as they collided in midair. Top spinning away from him as a black blur did the same from her. Landing roughly in a tangle of limbs.

Anansi loomed over them with a triumphant grin. "Ha! Got ya now you flywei-"

There was a clanging sound as Nino got his second swing in. The metal pipe bending in the middle where he struck Anansi. Who slowly turned to face him. Glaring murder. An I'm-totally-gonna-die grin on his face.

But before Anansi could literally tear him apart Ladybug leapt onto the tall supervillain's back and wrapped her arms around Anansi's head. "Get him outa here!"

The breath was knocked out of Nino as Aristos tackled him over his shoulder none too gently and bolted.

"Get off!" Anansi pulled Ladybug off and hurled her away.

Only for Ladybug to wrap her yo-yo onto a nearby lamp post and use her momentum to swing herself into a flying kick.

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

"Um, dude, I think we're safe now."

"Right!"

"... You can put me down now, dude."

"R-right!" Adrien put Nino back on his own two feet and awkwardly gave him a once over. There was a beeping sound from his comb. "You seem okay..."

Brow furrowing slightly, Nino pulled out a small, octagonal, black box. "Yeah, but Ladybug dropped this when Anansi sent you two crashin' into each other. IDK what it is but..."

Adrien stared at the Miraculous box in his hands, mouth parting in a silent exclamation. He- He knew those symbols.

"Uh, dude?"

Reverently taking the box Adrien took a deep breath and opened the lid.

A blinding flash of green light shot out and materialized into a familiar face.

"Well, it's about time!" Plagg said.

"Plagg!" Adrien reached out and cradled the tiny god in his palms. "I- Um..." He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm glad to see you again."

"Me too, kid." Plagg zoomed to Adrien's chest to give him a hug.

Nino gapped at them as the realization that Aristos was Chat Noir clicked.

"... Ahem, well enough of that mushy stuff. We've got an akuma to catch!"

Wiping at his eyes, Adrien nodded. "You said it!" A spark of mischief lit up his face. "Hey. Hey! Let's have Nino use the ring!"

Nino shook his head to clear it. "Say what now?"

"Someone has to use it and it can't be me! We have to give you back after." This last part Adrien directed at Plagg.

"... Well, we don't have to."

Aristos snorted. "Tempting as that is, Ladybug has enough on her plate without losing half of the most powerful Miraculous."

"Bit late for that," Plagg snickered.

"Be nice."

"I'm always nice!"

"Sure you are." Adrien pet Plagg's head with a fond smile.

"Wait... You mean... I'm going to be Chat Noir!?" Nino pointed at himself in disbelief. "He's- I mean, you're, my favorite hero dude! It sucked when you disappeared. Man, I- Hey, you alright?"

"Yup!" Aristos squeaked, blinking back tears that had no business coming this easily damnit! "Totally fine!" Clearing his throat, Adrien straightened his shoulders and offered the Black Cat Miraculous to his best friend. Another beep sounding from his Miraculous. "What about it? Wanna help us kick some butterfly butt?"

Nino grinned as he accepted the ring. "Hell yeah!"

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

"Oh, Teacher's Pet has some backbone!" Anansi shot out webs in rapid succession.

Ladybug sidestepping them as she retreated. Anansi was too strong to take on directly; she really hoped Aristos would get there soon so she could tag out.

"Is that all you got?" Ladybug bluffed.

Smirking, Anansi grabbed a nearby car and threw it at the Bug.

Sliding underneath it Ladybug hooked her yo-yo around the vehicle and spun it back at Anansi.

The supervillain easily dodging as she raced toward Ladybug.

Bringing her yo-yo up as a shield Ladybug used her smaller size and greater maneuverability to evade Anansi's punches. Even with all the arms she had.

"Hold still!" Anansi demanded as her swings got more precise.

Taking a risk, Ladybug leapt back. "Lucky Charm!"

Anansi aimed three fists downward and struck the ground. Concrete cracking as the force of impact knocked Ladybug off her feet.

"Ugh, ow. Hey!" Ladybug protested as she was hoisted by her ankle. The world turning upside down as her Lucky Charm was kicked away.

"I said-" Anansi pulled her arm back. "Hold-" Aimed up. "Still!" And pitched Ladybug into her web next to Alya.

Squeezing her eyes shut as the web shook with the impact, Alya popped one eye open. "... This can't be good."

"Ha! Gotcha! Now there's only one left!" Anansi hit her fists into her palms in anticipation.

"Well aren't you buzzing with confidence," Aristos called from atop a lamppost.

Head whirling to the sound of his voice the supervillain zeroed in on the hero. "If Teacher's Pet over there didn't stand a chance against me what makes you think you do, Bumblebee?"

"What's the matter? Scared?"

Taking the bait Anansi charged at him.

"At least he's got his top again," Alya noted.

Just as a new face showed up.

"Uh, hey girls." The new guy balanced on a staff that extended all the way to the ground. Wearing a mostly black costume with green gauntlets and boots that went up to his elbows and knees. A hoody with cat ears framing a face covered by green tinted goggles. The Black Cat symbol emblazoned on his chest.

Ladybug's face drained of color as her eyes widened. Unable to pull her gaze away as her fingers clenched into fists.

"Alright dude- er, Ladybug."

Alya gave the cat an inquisitive look.

"Get ready to drop!" Wrapping an arm around Alya's shoulders he held the other above Anansi's web. "Cataclysm!"

Ladybug fell on her feet as the web turned to dust. The unknown Black Cat descending with a tight grip on Alya. Forcing her thoughts to move, Ladybug shook her head. "We have to help Aristos."

"Uh, I think he's done du- Ladybug." The Black Cat pointed at Anansi in a frozen position on the ground.

She blinked. "Aristos?"

"Here!"

Ladybug spotted his hand waving from beneath the akuma villain.

"A little help?"

Ladybug rolled the frozen Anansi over and gave Aristos a hand up.

"Thanks. That was a close call-"

Ladybug's grip tightened involuntarily. "W-why does he have that?"

Aristos followed Ladybug's gaze to see Alya asking for Nino's superhero name. Who was puzzling out how to break Anansi's helmet without Cataclysm.

"That's Chat's ring!"

Cruel warmth panged in Adrien's chest. Chat's ring... "Easy, Ladybug." Aristos placed a gentle hand over her own. "He's gonna hand it over-"

Ladybug's earrings beeped. "Like you did?"

Aristos stepped back, breaking contact, as he scowled. "Lucky for you he's not me then."

Wincing, Ladybug tried to backtrack. "I didn't mean-"

"Sure, sure."

"It's just... The Black Cat Miraculous is the most dangerous one of all. If the wrong person is chosen to wield it..."

"I think I know my Miraculous better than you, tha-" Adrien snapped his jaw shut.

A vice gripped Marinette's heart. "... Your Miraculous?"

Aristos backed away as blood drained from his face. "Slip of the tongue." He pulled out his top, ready to launch himself away.

"Chat wait!" Ladybug reached for him but her fingers stopped just shy of his suit. Her earrings giving out another beep.

Chat Noir stood stock still as his Miraculous echoed hers.

"Wait! Just... wait."

Adrien's shoulders hunched as he kept his eyes on his shoes.

Ladybug's chest felt like it would choke the words down. But she swallowed down the lump in her throat instead and forced them out. "Are- Are you okay?"

Hand going to the back of his neck Adrien glanced up at her. "I'm... doing better."

"Come back."

He jerked ramrod straight.

"Please, come back."

The beeping became more insistent.

"I'll... Think about it."

And then he was gone and Marinette had to catch a quickly tossed Lucky Charm, a Bee comb, so she could call down Miraculous Ladybug.

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

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Adrien shoved the voice down as he made his way to Nino's. A question turning in Adrien's head. Aristos landed at his open window silently.

"Okay, so how is this gonna work, little dude?" Nino watched in fascination as the kwami ate triple it's size in cheese without gaining an once.

"Eh, beats me. Don't know what she's thinking but Ladybug always has a plan," Plagg said before swallowing another wedge.

"O-kay?" Nino didn't quite follow but it looked like Plagg was going to stay a while. "Make yourself at home?"

"Trust me, he'll do that whether you like it or not," Aristos announced himself.

Nino jerked as he spun around. "Holy sh- You can't sneak up on a dude like that!"

"Sorry." Adrien gave a rueful smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

The movement drawing Nino's attention for reasons he couldn't quite place.

"So she left the Miraculous with you?"

"Yeah, how did-"

Aristos pointed at the Miraculous on Nino's finger.

He blinked. "Oh yeah." Nino pulled it off and offered it to Adrien. "Dudette said to give this back to ya. Said it belonged to you anyway."

Adrien stared, eyes wide, as his heart hammered against his chest. Uncomprehending despite the simplicity of Nino's statement. Just like that? Ladybug wasn't one to put something like this in another's hands. Wasn't one to bend the rules more than necessary. She was too stubborn for that. But she had. For him. For him Ladybug had said fuck the rules.

Nino shifted awkwardly on his feet as Aristos just stood there.

"A-" Plagg hiccupped green bubbles. "Chat Noir?"

"...Fuck the rules." Aristos pulled his comb out, letting his transformation drop to reveal Adrien once the light faded.

Nino's jaw dropped.

Adrien's hand going back to rubbing his neck. Not quite looking at his best friend.

Pollen gave an encouraging nod which Plagg quickly copied.

"Um, hi?"

"...Bro." Nino's shock melted as his lips began to tremble. "Bro." Stepping forward, Nino placed a hand on both of Adrien's shoulders. Squeezing hard as his red eyes watered. "Bro." Nino pulled Adrien into a tight hug.

Adrien's arms returning the embrace, his surprise at the contact fading. Burying his head into Nino's shoulder as his face burned with it's own tears. Adrien's legs giving out as he sagged against his best friend. Body trembling as he took slow, shaky breaths.

"I got you," Nino promised, holding firm. "I got you."

#adrien agreste #bee!adrien #ml au #ml fanfic #nino lahiffe #marinette dupain cheng #plagg #float like a butterfly #alya cesaire #ml #miraculous ladybug #canon divergence #canon divergent au

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

BRO YES. I love Toriel but oh my god she's so flawed. Like in neutral endings Toriel just comes back and RECLAIMS THE THRONE and puts in her own rules about not hurting humans EVEN IF THE HUMAN KILLED PEOPLE? She ABANDONED the throne and her people and doesn't care what they think. If she's not with Asgore anymore she has no right to pretending she's still the queen. Not even mentioning how when Frisk leaves the ruins she's just like 'okay bye forever I want plausible deniability'.

ANON WE ARE ON. THE EXACT SAME WAVELENGTH HERE

like ok before i start really ranting: im not making a moral judgement on any of the undertale characters because that's kind of silly, in general, to like say this character from a viddy game has objective moral right or wrong. it's just UT toriel and asgore are both characters who've been through a lot of trials and reacted in their own ways and i think it's really really interesting to talk about!

but yeah!! like first of all, from asgore's own words, as well as the way other monsters talk about him - he's not like, just murdering kids because he's sad or whatever. in the wake of asriel and chara's death, he chose to declare war on humans because the entire underground had lost in the hope. -and this in the wake of losing BOTH HIS KIDS, my god, can you imagine how hopeless HE must have felt? the temptation to just give up and shut himself inside, let the rest of the world go to darkness because what does it matter anymore, must have been SO STRONG. but he didn't. he was determined to do whatever he needed to to make sure all the other monsters still felt hope. to make them feel like maybe they wouldn't be trapped down here forever, yeah?

and even after that - you can't look at asgore, asgore canonically, and tell me that if a human child had fallen into the underground and tried to stay, had found a home and friends and wasn't hurting anyone, that he would go to them and murder them in cold blood. if a human had asked him, genuinely, please couldn't they just stay and live out their life, he absolutely would have let them! he literally offers frisk that at the end of their fight! but the tragedy of the situation is that the humans who fall into the underground want to go home. they want to get out, and so they and asgore HAVE to fight, one of them has to claim the other's soul. and no matter how hopeless asgore feels, he will not leave his people leaderless if he can help it, so he won't just lie down and die for them.

on the other hand!! YES to everything you said about toriel!! i mean, i have no idea how the monarchy in undertale works so who knows what the status on toriel's claim to the throne is or if that even matters (seeing as apparently Literally Whoever's Around can grab the throne once you kill asgore in a neutral route), but to everything else? toriel just, fundamentally, prioritizes her own feelings when it comes to humans and asgore. which is an obvious survival mechanism in the face of losing both her children, but like- she LEFT. she just LEFT. even in the middle of grieving, she must have been able to see why asgore said what he did when he declared war. at the very least, they ruled together! she could have talked to him and they could have worked out a balance together. instead she leaves and shuts herself in the ruins. and she's not just leaving asgore- she's abandoning all of monsterkind to their grief and hopelessness, because her own is more important.

(also hey toriel THERE WERE MONSTERS STILL IN THE RUINS WHEN YOU SHUT THE DOOR? WHAT THE FUCK? how many monsters did she trap in there with her because she wanted to sulk?)

and then of course it takes her until at least human number seven is almost to the end of their journey, to actually leave the ruins and do something concrete about it. like if she cares so strongly about this, she could have gone and stopped asgore WAY earlier, but she waited instead, because i guess it was easier to hide and keep - y'know, "meekly hoping another human never comes" - than step out and try to reason with or face asgore herself.

and the alternate solution she offers to asgore at the end of a true pacifist route to scold him - leaving once he got one human soul, killing six more, and shattering the barrier - is like. as a queen she should be able to see the obvious problems with that. "seven humans fell into the barrier accidentally, they fought me to go home, i killed them, and eventually had enough souls to break the barrier" has some plausible deniability diplomatically. "i went out and murdered a bunch of you" is grounds for another war.

tl;dr i'm an epic divorce man apologist and milf anti apparently

#the nemesis answers #the nemesis speaks #anonymous #negativity #long post #undertale #undertale analysis #maybe i'll put more in that tag who knows #divorce man apologist saga

[shyrose57]

Thats Fair I imagine Lady Death would like her husband to visit from time to time. Tubbo though, with Tommy and Ranboo around he will finally awaken his long slumbering Gremlin, the castle guards wont know what hit them. Tommy was bad, but both? The moment they met every Guard felt a shiver run down their spine. Something Horrible had awoken. lol

She would, but she's very patient, and she knows they'll meet again eventually, one way or another.

And, yeah. Just, yeah.

Tubbo's had to lay-back the gremlin-ing a lot on the run, if only for lack of supplies for his mischief, but Tommy only has to vaguely hint at some chaos, and Tubbo is immediately on board, and plotting alongside him.

Ranboo just averts his eyes and reads a book, because plausible deniability is important, y'know?

#(Wouldn't Wanna) Be Immortals AU #dream smp #dream smp au #tubbo #tommyinnit

[charlesoberonn]

I know you're a huga Atla fan and you have a lot of ideas for a series so I just wanted to share mine. My idea takes place one avatar after Korra in a post-modern setting, y'know smart phones internet with a funny little owl mascot, economic and political disparity, the works. The White Lotus society has taken up the role of training the avatar in the absence of the past lives and as such have taken great lengths to try and obtain/record as much information as possible. 1/2

However, over the course of the years and with droplets of information on the last avatar they've become a sort of Knight Templars/Freemasons type organization. (The previous isn't responsible they're just not the focus.) And as such the current avatar faces a kind of troubling up bringing as the WL take him away from his against his protests as a young child. He grows up striving to be the most efficient he can so he can finally return home. In doing so, he reads and memorizes the WL's 2/?

Library of Avatar History and comes to the conclusion that the world is better off without the avatar due the seemingly endless cycle of "Avatar shows up, ruins everything for everyone, cleans up after themselves, and then dies a 'Hero'". Not wanting to be associated with this perceived cycle in conjunction to wanting to just go home and move on with his life, he vanishes from the WL temple/castle/compound thingy building idk yet... After he goes home and catches up and learns things he 3/?

He should've as a kid, he decides to strike out on his own as a young adult and make something of himself. But what can he do? He has no real, in his words, worthwhile skills to do anything to make a living, all he has is bending and obscure knowledge. He then gets the idea start up his own business that would allow him to make use of what he has but also keep the plausible deniability of him not being the avatar. So he decides to build a glass working shop. 4/?

So in using a combination of bending techniques to actually form the shop out of raw materials in the forest, he creates his shop and gets to work trying to use a kilm only to find he's using bending too much. So he gets the idea instead of bending the entire process, to just bend the sand, this proves to be a grand success as he bends the molten sand into beautiful statutes with ease. After compiling a good stock of goods, he bends his entire shop into the ground to pop up in an empty lot. 5/?

This would be his main mode of transportation when he needs to flee the WL. I had some ideas like the WL being not well liked due to their uniform appearance and obsession with the avatar as an outside perspective, but they are huge arbiters of peace though their methods of espinoge and doing things quietly don't help. And him making friends with the new firelord to be and finding her story similar to his and bringing in lessons of child development. sorry it took so many asks 6/6

I like the concept, seems like it’d make an interesting story we haven’t seen before in the Avatar universe. More focused on daily life than on adventures.

#bigchumby

[ethereousdelirious]

Fandom: The U. mbrella A.cademy

Characters: all the sibs

Pairings: N/A

Tropes: just fluff

Summary: request fill for anon! D.iego gets the flu and it fucks with his powers and he starts freaking out thinking that he's worthless

Warnings/Notes: very short, vague depiction of a character having a mild panic attack

I'm posting from mobile so if the formatting gets fucked up or the post gets cut off, I can't fix it for another like 4 hours give or take

Set in some idealistic Avengers Tower AU (y'know when ppl would write those fics where the Avengers all lived in the tower and would like bro out and actually talk about their problems. Yeah. That, but TUA)

--

When it came to solving problems, Diego Hargreeves tended to beat them into submission with brute force and the liberal application of knives. If he couldn't solve a problem in this manner, he tended to ignore it until it escalated into something he could solve via incredible violence.

Unfortunately, today's problem (inevitably the first of many) was 0% knife-able.

That morning found Diego curled up in bed with a bad case of vertigo and a stinging pain in his throat every time he dared to swallow. He forced himself to get up anyway and had to brace himself against the wall for support as the room spun and his chest began to spasm with the need to cough.

Keeping his wits about him, he stifled the coughing fit behind closed lips. If his siblings found out he was sick, he'd never hear the end of it. They'd think he was weak. That he was useless. After all, Luther never got sick.

The sheer spite made Diego straighten up and get dressed. Fatigue made his joints feel sticky and painful, so he decided to skip his morning workout. Just getting through the day like this would be enough work as it was. He brushed his teeth quickly and decided not to take his temperature-- better to not know. Plausible deniability.

He had to take the stairs at a pace that felt excruciatingly slow compared to his normal light-footed jog. He clung to the banister, painfully aware of the fact that any one of his siblings could pop out onto the landing to witness his pathetic descent. He was just so dizzy and his body ached like he'd spent the night jogging instead of sleeping.

Finally, he reached flat ground and was able to stagger to the kitchen. He wasn't really hungry, but there was no way he was going to skip breakfast and risk losing his hard-earned gains. Besides, maybe he'd feel better after eating.

"You're up early."

Diego jumped and instinctively flung a knife, just barely managing to dampen the force behind his throw as his brain caught up with his body. The knife clattered to the floor, a clumsy, straight trajectory, not at all what Diego had intended. "Hi," he said lamely, not looking at Five.

Five looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Your ninja skills are getting a little rusty."

Diego continued to stare at the knife on the floor. He'd meant for it to curve and stick in one of the cabinets. "Uh, yeah." He bent to pick up the knife and had to pause and steady himself.

"Your Neanderthal impression on the other hand…" Five put his hands on his hips. "Perfection."

"What's got your shorts in a twist?" Diego asked, not really caring about the answer.

Five got up on his tiptoes, reaching for one of the cabinets. Diego nudged him aside with his hip and got a clean mug down for him.

"Thanks," Five said begrudgingly. "And to answer your question, I'm used to having my morning coffee alone."

"Oh." Diego opened the fridge and muffled a short cough into his elbow, trying to relieve some of the aching pressure in his chest. "I can fuck off for a bit. If you want."

"It's fine."

They were quiet for a moment. Diego stared at the contents of the fridge. Something with protein would be good. Eggs sounded like too much work, too much standing. He wanted to sit. Protein shake? Even the thought of making that sounded like far too much work. Sighing, Diego grabbed the milk and poured himself a glass while Five watched in silence.

"You didn't work out this morning," Five said.

"Is that a fact?" Diego shut the fridge and went to the living room.

Five phased in ahead of him and sat down in the chair Diego had been heading for. "Your hair is dry."

"And?" Diego contemplated just sitting down on Five, but didn't think he'd have the energy for the subsequent wrestling match. He threw himself down on the couch instead.

"And, you always shower after your morning workout."

"I'm cutting," Diego lied. "I'm going for a jog later."

"Interesting. Don't care."

Diego sniffled, annoyed to find that his nose was starting to run. "Why'd you bring it up, then?" he asked, looking around for a spare napkin. Finding nothing, he sniffed again.

"Just letting you know: I notice things, so don't try to pull any shit. And blow your damn nose, you sound like a coke addict."

One by one, the rest of the family came down the stairs and joined them in the living room. Diego tried his best to ignore them, trying to figure out what had gone wrong in the kitchen, but it was hard to concentrate when no one would leave him the fuck alone.

He kept having to leave the room to blow his nose and muffle coughs into his shirt collar, and every time he came back, the ambient noise of his siblings' conversations seemed to grow louder and louder.

"What's got you all broody?" Allison asked upon seeing him return from yet another trip to the bathroom.

"I'm not broody," Diego said, at least vindicated that he didn't sound sick.

"He dropped a knife this morning," Five said to her.

This started up a round of ribbing and teasing that chafed at Diego more than usual. His weak attempts at defending himself went ignored until his ears started to roar. He pulled out a knife and threw it at Klaus, intending for it to stick in the chair's armrest, right between his fingers.

It missed by a mile, thudding against the wall and knocking one of the paintings crooked.

Everyone went quiet.

"Uh, Diego?" Luther asked. "Did you mean to do that?"

"Yeah," Diego said, glaring at him. "Fuck that part of the wall in particular." Despite his best efforts, he started to cough. He managed to choke the fit back into something more manageable, but the damage had been done. Everyone was looking at him.

"Are you okay?" Vanya asked meekly, eyes wide.

"I'm fine."

"That didn't sound fine," Luther said. "You sick?"

"You're sick," Diego said, knowing he sounded like a petulant child but unable to bring himself to care.

Allison studied him. "He's shaking" she said to Luther.

"I said I'm fine," Diego said, batting her hand away. "Five, tell them I'm fine."

"He's sick," Five said to Luther.

"Vanya? Klaus?"

"What are we supposed to do?" Klaus asked.

"Back me up!" Diego ran a hand through his hair, dismayed to find that his forehead was a little sweaty. A thrum of fear had started up in his chest, something he couldn't really explain. He was fine, he could still fight. He wasn't useless.

Luther pointed to a discolored spot on the wall. "Prove it."

"What?"

"If you're fine, hit that spot."

"Fine," Diego growled, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his throat. He took out another knife and just held it for a moment. He had to concentrate, that was all. He'd been sick before and it didn't affect his powers. He was just psyching himself out, that was all.

He took a deep breath and threw the knife. It was over in a blink. The knife traveled straight forward, whizzing by Luther's head, and stuck in the wall across from Diego, nowhere near where Luther had pointed.

Diego's head went fuzzy.

He could feel his body shaking, hear his siblings' voices. He caught sentence fragments, words without meanings attached to them.

"Allison, move."

"Get his head."

"How long has he been like this?"

The world tilted, sickening. He fought for breaths, trying to clear his head. What was happening? What if his powers never came back?

"Diego?" Hands on his head, fingers tracing patterns against his scalp.

Diego took several deep breaths. He had been moved so he was on his back, and he was holding himself stiff.

"Look at me," the voice said. Unable to connect it to a face, Diego looked up. He'd been manhandled from seated to a supine position with his head in someone's lap, so he had been expecting to see Luther's face.

Instead, it was Klaus who stared down at him, his expression unreadable.

"Hey," Diego said shakily.

"You okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay," Diego said. He was hot all over and his hands were shaking and he couldn't use his fucking powers. "I'm useless." He remembered how they'd all treated Vanya, remembered all the awful, cruel things their dad had said about her, that they had said about her. "I'm fucking useless."

"Hey." Allison appeared in his periphery. "Your powers will come back." She put her hand on his cheek and drew it back in surprise. "Luther, he's burning up."

"You're telling me." Klaus shifted, one hand still gently tangled in Diego's hair. "It's like being trapped under an electric blanket."

"So move," Diego grumbled.

"No."

"Why don't I go get a cold compress?" Vanya said from somewhere down by Diego's feet.

"I got it," Five said. The subsequent flash of blue stabbed into Diego's eyes and made his head ache.

"What am I gonna do?" he said.

"What do you mean?" Luther asked.

"Without my powers, I… I'm nothing."

"Oh, you were serious about that?" Klaus said. "I thought you were just being dramatic."

Diego was too tired to point out the irony of Klaus accusing him of being overdramatic.

Another flash of blue. Five leaned over Allison and, with surprising gentleness, laid a damp washcloth over Diego's brow. "You're not useless," he said. "In fact, out of all of us, you might just be the most powerful without the help of spooky extraordinary powers."

"Yeah, right." Diego brought up one hand and coughed into his wrist, prompting a quiet "eewww" from Klaus.

"No, he's right," Vanya said. "You work your ass off every day. Even if you really did lose your powers, you'd still be a badass killing machine."

"And you're the only one of us who kept doing heroics after leaving," Allison said. Luther made a noise of protest followed by a grunt, presumably after Allison nudged him in the side.

"You guys… Do you really think so?" Diego asked. Despite the pep talk, he still couldn't really picture himself without his powers. Without them, he wasn't himself. "I feel like… I mean, what's the point of me if I can't use my powers?"

"Lots of things," Klaus said. "I'm pretty sure you're singlehandedly propping up the leather industry in the US."

"You're a good person," Allison said firmly. "And there's more than one way to help people." Pointedly, she added, "Isn't that right, Luther?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah," Luther said. He sighed. "I really do admire you, Diego. You're so obsessed with saving people it's almost pathological." He chuckled. "I mean… Your biggest character flaw is that you literally care too much. Not many people can say that. You're a hero no matter what."

"Besides," said Five. "Your powers will come back." It's probably just the fever that's screwing with them, same way it's screwing with your emotions and making you all vulnerable and adorable."

"Oh," Diego said thoughtfully. "Shit." He rolled over onto his side and started to cough, finally letting loose what he had been stifling all morning. He curled his head down and did his best to breathe through the spasms that tore through his chest and seemed to rip his throat open until everything from his ribs to his head was on fire.

"Please don't die in my lap," Klaus said. "I don't think I could handle the trauma."

"God, I feel like shit " Diego said, his face buried in Klaus' shirt.

"That tickles," Klaus said.

"Have you taken any medicine, Diego?" Vanya asked.

"No," Diego said.

Klaus wriggled. "Diego, seriously!"

Sighing, Diego rolled over again to face his siblings. "I haven't taken anything."

"Or eaten anything," Five added. 

"M'tired," Diego mumbled. The proximity to Klaus' body heat was overwhelming next to the fever simmering under his skin. He wanted to get up and crawl into bed, preferably naked, and sleep. He was in no mood to lie here and listen to siblings squabble over medications. He sat up, prompting a chorus of protests from his siblings.

Luther planted a hand square in the middle of Diego's chest. "What do you think you're doing?" 

"Going to bed," Diego said, anger flaring up at the thought of Luther trying to push him around. He swiped Luther's hand away and got to his feet, pleasantly surprised when he didn't immediately collapse back onto the couch.

"I'll help you up the stairs," Luther said.

Diego stepped away from him. "The hell you will."

"You're not going alone," Luther shot back.

"Guys." Vanya stepped between them. "I'll go with him."

"You gonna tuck me in, too?" Diego scoffed and started to walk away. Vanya matched pace with him but didn't touch him. "Thanks, Vanya," Diego said when they were out of earshot of the others.

She shrugged. "You're just sick, it's not like you need to be babied."

They took the stairs slowly, with frequent breaks so Diego could catch his breath. "I just hate feeling like this," he said.

"I know." Vanya smiled sadly. "It's so ugly and… It just makes you feel so small."

They reached Diego's room. He pushed the door open and got into bed without bothering to take off any of his clothes. "Vanya," he started, unsure of where to go with him the rest of the sentence.

"I should go get the others," she said, hovering by the doorway. "Before they kill each other arguing about, I don't know, Aleve versus Advil."

"Vanya," Diego said again. "I, um. I want to teach you how to fight."

"What?" She looked at him, baffled.

"I know you don't really need it, I just… It's something I want to do."

She smiled, an actual, genuine smile. "I think I'd like that."

"Good."

"Do you want anything to eat?" Vanya asked. "Allison is probably going to make soup, but if there's anything you want in the meantime..?"

"I don't know." Diego leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. "Water would be great."

"Don't go to sleep yet," Vanya said. "I'm sure Five will be here with medicine any second now."

"Yeah, yeah." Diego waved a hand.

Vanya laughed quietly. "I'll get you a glass of water."

"Thank you, Vanya." Her footsteps faded away and Diego sighed.

Maybe it was time to drop the lone wolf thing and start embracing life as a pack member.

#i think it worked! #ethereous writes

[piet-ra]

Here are my thoughts on the whole supernatural thingy:

(Spoilers for spn and she-ra i guess)

I don't know if I'm happy for it even existing, if I'm mad at the writers for not doing it sooner, if I'm mad at myself for being slightly pleased that the bare minimum exists when we clearly deserve so much more.

But mostly I think I'm just annoyed and angry. My devotion to the fandom and the show died many years ago and now I just casually read something here and there about the show. Even though I watched 9 seasons non-stop and was a very dedicated Destiel shipper.(and yes Carry on my wayward song is still great and now I can associate it with the actual developed gay couple of Carry on - Rainbow Rowell) So, when I heard "Destiel is Canon" it felt like I never left seeing how excited I was. Then, I was surprised. I felt like it came out of fucking nowhere. And very late at that. I go watch the rest show. Surprise surprise it did come out of nowhere. I had a hard time processing it. And now Imma lay down my reasoning behind being mad even though no one actually gives a shit.

First, right out of the gate, what pisses me off is the lack of actual build up. Yes, the fans have been calling it for years. But the fans were also searching for breadcrumbs due to a lack of representation. Fans were projecting and trying to find subtext. I was one of them. Never there was explicit enough reasons to canonically think they were a thing or would ever become one. And now the writers went there and gave us a feeling of false vindication by saying "you were right all along, we were dropping hints" when it has certainly not been the case. I doubt (like rly rly doubt) that their intention when writing spn back then was to make destiel a thing. They hadn't even planned for half the shit that went down but y'all want me to believe destiel of all things was the exception? Meh. But even if I'm being really generous and giving them the benefit of the doubt, it still stands that they could have done it a long long time ago. Which takes me to the second reason why I'm mad.

The timing is ridiculously convenient for the writers. The show has been running for FIFTEEN years, it has FIFTEEN seasons and they choose the third to last episode to make it happen? And then HE DIES AND IS SENT TO MEGA HELL after confesssing his gay feelings??? With only two more episodes left, I'll let you wager on how much of actual destiel we'll get. That is, if Dean EVER reciprocates, because it was not explicit at all.(c'mon Jensen, you can do better than that) The dying thing is a massive problem, but not as much as when it happens. Because this is still supernatural and everyone has died and come back to life at least five hundred thousand times before. They could have kept the scene as it was, only a few seasons before. Then we'd actually have decent moments of consequence to the confession, conflict, build up to an actual romantic relationship if they did not mean for it to be one sided, dean confronting his feelings and all that jazz. But no, we get the bare minimum and after this the show ends if people are upset about it, they will no longer have to deal with that shit.

Even though they knew destiel was immensely popular in the fandom for AGES, it seems that now that some popular lgbtq+ couples/shows have arisen and have been received (mostly) positively, they wanted to jump in the band wagon, but not so much that it would anger their straight prejudiced viewers. Cw shows, huh? It's like we're doing it, but we're not committing to it. And if you don't like it, we have already milked everything from you anyways, cause y'know the show is ending in a couple of weeks. AND WHAT IS WORSE. If Destiel didn't happen, I don't think it would be a Sherlock case where something feels off and weird and the lack of it feels forced. Since Dean has been stablished since the beginning as liking women and all indication of otherwise can fall under plausible deniability and fans reading too much into it, I don't really think they would receive big amounts backlash for not doing it or be criticized for it. Fans really have resigned themselves years ago that Destiel wouldn't ever happen. And if they are doing it just to avoid backlash is bad, but if not, then why? To make the show relevant again by trending Destiel? To play on the popularity of the ship? Idk and Idc. They can have the bestest of intentions, but it was done poorly. And now, since the lack of build up is a problem, it - and it reallly pains me to say this - feels forced/aka censored. (I hate myself right now for saying this aaaaaaaaaaaaaa).

It is not good representation. (And seeing as my tumblr is basically she-ra focused, I'm anticipating people saying that that also happens in she-ra. But when the show has never shied away from representation, good casual represation, like having two dads, two moms, a married lesbian couple, a non-binary character amongst other things, I can't find it in me to say it does not have good representation. And the characters only getting together at the end fits their development and personality. And we had a whole season to develop them coming to terms with loving the person who's supposed to be your enemy, but was once your best friend and now fights alongside you and you now realized you love. Supernatural feels like fucking pandering.)

However, it is kinda maybe sorta representation still. And - that depends on how they play it out on the next two episodes - I don't feel it is particularly damaging(except the mega hell thibgy, but again, it is spn); It was not advertised as an lgbtq+ show nor used the couple to promote their season, so yeah kay fine, I'm still gonna laugh at ya.

So, having already had a weak spot for Destiel in the first place, I can't stop feeling a bit happy that at least Cas fessed up and we might get something. It can't be used as a example of great representation, but I'm not mad the ship exists. I'm just really really mad at how it was done.(not only because y'know, I'm queer, but also because the fans and the couple deserve better.)

#spn #destiel #dean x castiel #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural

[riddlesandqueries]

Valentine’s Evening

A roleplay between @themarmaladeblog and myself, concerning the relative conditions of a civilian, a rogue, and the unspoken.

It was… a date, right?

 It’s Valentine’s day. 

Bruce waits in a small cafe he’s fond of, where he knows the food and coffee are good and the people are friendly, where there’s quiet tables, and enough interference between them for a modicum of privacy. The atmosphere is close, and… affectionate, given the day, and the other diners. 

He’s dressed in blue. Edward’s suggestion, when they first had dinner together at the manor. He said he’d look better in color, than black and white, and Bruce had taken it to heart. ….He’d accepted. Edward had accepted the invite for dinner, and Bruce stresses over this, twisting his napkin between his fingers and nervously watching the door. Of course, the word ‘date’ had never been mentioned, it was just…. dinner.  - But, it’s a date, right….?

Oh, god, is this a date? Is this what dates are like when you actually care? Edward scowled against his nausea, parking the car and giving his hair a quick comb. This is probably what Hell is like, isn’t it. Just nothing but doubt and insecurity and never getting answers. The last one was his least favourite thing in the world, and it burned in him like an ulcer. Adjusting his tie, he strolled inside despite his stomach ache. “Hello, Bruce.”

God, he’s cute. Bruce muses, through a faint and worryingly earnest smile. 

Does he… look? As smitten as he feels? Bruce hopes not. It would be a terrible idea to actually… date, Edward Nygma. 

Nygma, A man he’s personally concussed three times, and locked in the VR, who’s tried to kill him on multiple occasions. He couldn’t in good conscience date Edward Nygma. Not when he still can’t actually tell him who he god-damn is. 

(Not that Bruce’s put on the cowl in some time. His heart, just…. hasn’t been in it, lately.)

Bruce finds himself searching Edward’s face, trying to discern his expression, weigh the amount of affection he can find in the other man’s eyes, see if it matches his own. He should’ve brought flowers, god. 

No, god damn it, under no circumstances should I be buying him flowers. 

“Hey, Eddie.“ His smile, despite his better judgement, grows just a bit. "Had a good February?”

“All half of it? I’ve had worse.” Edward says, taking a seat. He’s in rich green, so dark it’s almost black, with bright accents in white and gold and purple in his details. “How about you? You’ve been quiet.”

“Heh, it’s one of those dark months, I think, that kind of… carries me off into thinking…. So, uh, lost in thought? Lots of days in the gym, staring into space.” 

Bruce pauses, as dimly it occurs to him that he should at least greet Edward properly. “…You look fantastic. Heh, no surprise, though….”

“Dark months? Do you get that seasonal affective disorder?” Edward frowns curiously. “There’s light box therapies for that, you know.”

“Oh - no, nothing like that, I just… deeply crave it to be light enough to go rock climbing. I get nostalgic for warm-weather sports as the winter drags on, but it’s not depression, I don’t think, so much as I zone out easier on exercise machines.” Bruce rubs the back of his neck, a bit. “Easy to get lost in thought on an elliptical. I mean, I guess it’s good for my creativity….”

“Bruce, that’s dangerous.” Edward gently chides. “You could mash a toe.”

The first instinct is to object, to protest that he’s done it a hundred times before, that he’s had worse, but… Bruce quashes that reflex. It’s honestly kind of nice, he decides after a half-second pause, to be worried after. By someone other than Alfred. 

In fact, it would be nice if it was anyone worrying after him, he tells himself, the fact that it’s Edward has nothing to do with it. Bruce absolutely insists upon this fact mentally, though he can’t even manage to convince himself. He smiles, sheepish. “Yeah… you’re right. Old habits aren’t easy to break, though, y'know?”

“Oh, sure.” Edward chuckles wryly, looking over the drink menu. “Even new habits are hard to break: they’re there for a reason, after all. But I hope that things lighten up for you soon.” Bruce still has a tan. Maybe he should be a snowbird.

“Yeah, soon as the sunlight lasts past when I tend to leave the office.” Bruce laughs, a cheerful sound that briefly fills the small cafe. They’re smiled at, by a waitress, though ultimately she passes them over for the nonce, as Edward is pondering the offerings – largely Greek fusion – and Bruce picks up the drink menu. 

He’s, ah, quite thirsty for some reason, and… has the sneaking suspicion that this evening will go smoother one cocktail in. Just one. Don’t want to get sloppy drunk around a crush. 

…Come off it, it’s been months. I think we’re a bit past the whole 'crush’ bit. - Bruce just about catches himself before he sighs heavily at his own thoughts. - Knock it off. Focus on the drink menu.

Edward remains oblivious. Oh, that laugh…as cheerful as ever, if maybe a bit more honest than during his usual social performances. He swallows his thoughts, and decides on a simple sangria, as well as spanakopita: he hasn’t had the latter since the summer.

“They’re supposed to be really good at uh, traditional dishes here, according to all the reviews I read.” Bruce decides, silently, on Lamb Kleftiko, and he ignores the fact that 'stolen lamb’ is weirdly thematic given his company. It prompts a quiet chuckle, under his breath. Stolen - well, that’s fine.

“I was, going to get a drink while it’s still early, did you want to look at the wine list, or…?”

Edward wiggles the drink menu he’s holding. “I’m getting the house sangria to see what all of the fuss is about.”

That begets a fond grin. “I’ve only had it once….” Bruce considers, warmly. “If you get the white wine peach version, I’ll split a pitcher with you?”

“Done deal.” Edward grins. “Have you been here before?”

“No, but I’ve poked my head in and gotten takeaway pastry a couple times on the way home from work. If the rest of the food is as good as the baklava, we’re in for a treat.” Bruce’s grin is broad and easy when he talks about food. This is, good, this is fine, this isn’t weirdly awkward or yearning, he can do this. 

It’s probably not even a date. It might be a date. Bruce might not be great at spotting a date. He could… ask Edward if it was. But that way lies danger. No, maybe he could just,  just, see if Edward seems to think it a date, that’d… - Except, we really shouldn’t be dating the Riddler.

“If we aren’t, you owe me a decent meal.” Edward teases, smirking. This if fine. What was he ever worried about? Liking Bruce’s smile too much? …That sweet, endearing, dogged smile? AUGH.

“Work’s been all right?” asks Edward lightly.

“I mean, it’s been work.” Bruce laughs, lightly, rubbing his cheek. “Not that, you know, I’m really complaining. I do, honestly… find what I do to be, fulfilling. Busy, though, pretty much… all the time. Just, you know. It’s not a vacation in Hawaii, but…” His grin is his best attempt at disarming. A joke, right? 

No harm in jokes, not even if it is the flirtatious ones.

“If only it could be, huh?” Edward grins. “What a trip that was: I still haven’t gotten all of my photos developed. Kind of makes me wish I’d brought a Polaroid.”

Bruce’s face lights up. “Oh, hey, I didn’t know you were taking that many, I got… a handful, but…Man, remember the volcano summit? At sunset? That was amazing.”

You were amazing.

God, Bruce quietly chides himself, he almost said that out loud. 

“It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Edward hums fondly. “It makes sense that people climb mountains, when they want to be that close to the sky. Makes me feel kind of bad for being such a city boy.”

“I mean…. if you wanted to travel again, it was… it’s something I’d love to do with you in the future. Not like we wouldn’t come back.” HI, MAYBE AVOID THE ‘LOVE’ WORD, BRUCE. GET YOUR HEART OFF YOUR ARM. 

Before he can freeze up too terribly, though, the waitress swoops in.

If only we could. Edward smiles kindly to the waitress, and asks for the pitcher of white peach sangria…the spanakopita, and… ”What was it, Bruce?”

“Oh, ah, lamb kleftiko. And bread, please?”

“Pita?” asks the waitress kindly.

“Yeah, just, something to soak up any leftover sauce.”

“Sure thing. Be right back with your waters!" 

Edward waves after her. "I don’t think we could do that again, Bruce, considering your schedule.”

“…Yeah, probably not this year.” Bruce mutters, gloomy. It seemed different, out of the city, more plausible while they’re away. 

I should tell him. Bruce muses, glum. At the end of dinner, like… like ripping off a bandage. I can’t keep talking to him if he doesn’t know I’m Batman.

Edward casts Bruce a sympathetic look. “I am sorry for that fact. It’s not easy, I can tell.”

Bruce chuckles, though there’s little humor in it, rueful. “I mean, half of it is, I think I got attached to having you around.” Mumbled. That was a bit more honest than he meant to be, but… well. He lives in a big empty house, right? He has… plausible deniability behind why he would miss something like that..

Oh… Edward smiles slightly, a bit of colour in his cheeks. It’s a lopsided smile, a bit bashful, a bit bare when he’s off his rhythm. “I bet you say that to just anyone.” he chuckles, brows raised. “That’s quite a compliment.”

Bruce can’t quite hide how… pleased he is at that smile, certainly not fast enough. He does his best to quickly look off to the side, but is visibly charmed. Pink, in his ears. In a way he can’t pretend is sunburn, not now. “I dunno. Never been on vacation with anyone else, I’ll, have to get back to you on that one. If, uh, if it ever happens.”

“As long as I’m out of lockup, I suppose I’m available.” Shut up shut up shut up and STOP STARING 

 Water is brought around.

Available. God, if only that were true. Bruce takes to the water, almost… gratefully. It’s going to be a long, long dinner, huh.

Edward sips his own, taking in and letting out a slow breath. This is torment. Say something. “So, it’s Valentine’s Day, huh?” - GOD DAMN IT NOT THAT - “I expected Calendar Man to do something.”

Oh. He noticed. Of course he noticed, why the fuck wouldn’t he notice, it’s a holiday. “Yeah, uh, heh, happy, uh - happy Valentines, Eddie.” 

The quiet as Bruce fishes for something else to say nearly deafens him. “…Could I... get you dessert, maybe?”

“Pick each other’s desserts? Sure.” - I swear by all that’s holy Edward do NOT overthink this.

Bruce nods. That’s agreeable, and… segue to small talk, maybe. Just, try and talk a bit… The romantic atmosphere is not helping, not at all. He shouldn’t have asked him out, not tonight, he knows this now. Jesus, uh… “I, missed this, you know? Dinner together.”

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Edward grins. “We should just try out restaurants, I had a few friends back home who I’d do that with. Once a month, go try somewhere new.”

If you’re willing to speak to me after tonight, that sounds like a lot of fun. That thought translates onto Bruce’s face as a somewhat unusual, wistful smile. “That sounds fantastic, honestly.”

“It’s fun! It always keeps everything fresh: no falling back on old standards, and you can’t repeat a dish.”

Bruce grins. “I take it these rules are tried and true?”

“Absolutely.” Edward affirms. “Otherwise, someone orders the same baseline dish for every kind of restaurant they go to: tacos at every Mexican place and such.”

Bruce smiles a bit, nodding. “Anything you absolutely won’t eat? Don’t want to commit some kind of faux pas.” Food. Food is a safe topic.

“Me? Not really…it’s all worth trying twice at least, just to dispel bad first impressions if any.” he hums, thinking. Is there any food I don’t like..? Edward’s successfully been derailed.

“And no allergies, then?” Bruce asks, “Because I’m up for anything, yeah?”

“None I’m aware of, but if some develop, that’s a surprise for everyone.” Edward chuckles.

“God, I hope not.” chuckles Bruce, fond.

“Me too, frankly. Do you have any allergies?”

“No, not to food! Thankfully.” Bruce waves the notion away, “I don’t always get along with, uh, some kinds of polyesters, but that’s all that comes to mind.”

“Oh, I understand. The first problem is that you were wearing polyester.” Edward smirks.

Bruce grins. “…You were right, about the blue suit.”

“Hm? Well, you look good in it.” Edward says, gesturing to Bruce. “Do you like it more?”

“I mean, yeah. Brown and black all the time is, boring. I’ve gotten a lot of compliments today, too, so… thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You look good in black, but colours are a nice indulgence against the status quo.” Edward grins.

“I mean,” Bruce hums. “You always look amazing in green. I don’t think I’ve seen that suit before?”

“No, not this one. Bright shades aren’t for winter, not for me.”

Bruce’s head cants to one side. “They aren’t? …I wish I was half as good at clothes as you are. I don’t get seasons at all.”

“Black is never wrong. The rest of it’s made up, largely, so do as you will.”

Bruce smiles faintly, nodding, as food comes around. Smelling, as predicted, fantastic. It’s easy enough to keep up… this vein of comfortable, pleasant compliments and arm’s reach affection. It’s for the best, he tells himself, as dinner wends towards dessert, and they huddle together to pick what the other is going to be eating. He expects they can probably split it between them anyway. 

It’s for the best, because Edward’s definitely never going to speak to him again.

As a surprise for one another, just for extra fun, they order one another dessert: Bruce receives a chocolate torte with strawberries, and Edward receives a chocolate baklava, which he’s very pleased to see. “Perfect…geez, maybe I should have been more on-theme.”

“Well, on the bright side, I love strawberries?” says Bruce earnestly. (You keep using the love word, Bruce.)

“Hard not to. Bon appetit!” smiles Edward.

Bruce lifts his spoon in a lazy toast, and sets into it. Quiet. Right, he’ll break the bad news any minute now. Any minute. He just, needs to bring it up, so… like ripping off a bandage. Easy.

….Bruce takes a sip of the sangria, frowning into it.

“…Does it taste wrong?” Edward frowns.

“No, I uh…” Bruce stalls. Come on, get it over with. “I need to tell you something, Eddie, it’s…. it’s important.”

“…Yes?” Edward asks carefully, raising an eyebrow.

“…You probably won’t want to hear it.” Bruce mutters to himself, unable to keep his gaze. “I, uh. I’m…. I’m, um…” 

Go on. 

“I’m… I’m kind of smitten, with you.” 

BRUCE. WAYNE. WHAT, PRECISELY, ARE YOU DOING?

“…What?” Edward utters, gobsmacked.

THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY, BRUCE. Yes, well, that doesn’t make it less true!

 “I - I, yeah. I um….Look, I know it’s… stupid, of me it’s… You’ve mentioned yourself, you don’t, think of people. Not like that, and…..God, I tried, you know? To put it aside, especially after Selina, this is, I know this isn’t something you want to hear, but. …It’s valentine’s day. Lover’s day, you know? It, I’m having trouble not talking, suddenly, feel free to interrupt me at any time, just...”

I wonder if this is what a nervous breakdown feels like. What was that checklist on therapy? The fact I can’t remember offhand says everything about the situation. Edward takes a big sip of his sangria, and takes a deep breath. “We should not discuss this in a public restaurant.”

…That makes it easier. Okay. Just, smile, and, it’s fine. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably best. Okay.” Softly. Resigned, Bruce’s eyes fall to his plate, and he grows quiet to come to terms with what is at least seems like it will be a polite rejection. What did he expect, anyway? At least you can move on, Bruce. …Just focus down dessert, and steel yourself for heartbreak.

“…” Edward picks at his dessert, then sets down his fork. “Let’s get these to go.”

“ - Yeah, okay.” Check: paid. Not like he really has his appetite, anymore.

Boxes gathered, and they’re out the door. “…Somewhere private?” Edward murmurs.

“…Your house? My, house?” Personally, Bruce would prefer Edward’s, if he’s going to be shot down, but…

“That cliff on the outskirts of town, maybe.” says Edward firmly. Neutral is best.

Jeesh, punch me in the gut while you’re at it. “Yeah, okay, I can drive.”

“I’ll need to be brought back to my car eventually.” Edward warns, following along to Bruce’s car.

Stop complaining, Bruce, the horrid little voice in his head chides, this wouldn’t be an issue if you’d just confessed what you were supposed to confess. 

“I mean, yeah, that’s - “ Bruce flounders, numbly “ - it’s just weird to head up in, two. Cars, I mean.”

“Is it? I don’t know the protocol.” Edward mutters, getting into the car.

… On the bright side, I suppose it does solve the moral dilemma of crushing on someone you’ve hurt so many times. Now he even gets to hurt you back. You deserve this, Bruce. You know that, don’t you? Even if he doesn’t know why, never knows he’s got it, at least he’ll have his revenge.

Bruce is quiet, as he drives. A bit to shake off traffic… then not much longer, once the city loses its grip. “… Sorry.” is all he can manage, in a small voice, as they park.

Edward holds his dessert in his lap, staring determinedly out the window, thoughts almost visibly ticking like clockwork around him. "Sorry?” he says, snapping out of it.

“For shoving that off on you.” Bruce mumbles, finding that he can’t, actually. Look. At Edward.

“I’m, not angry.” Edward frowns, bemused.

“… Oh.” Bruce murmurs, also bemused. “… You, um, wanted to talk.”

“Yes, just not in the restaurant. People, paparazzi, there’s nothing I hate like gossip I didn’t start personally.”

Bruce nods, mute. For want of avoiding foot in mouth disease, Bruce very carefully has nothing to say.

“You like me, as in, romantically?” Edward asks, dissecting the words carefully.

“… Yeah. I - I know it’s, you’ve said on your blog yourself, you don’t… I’m sorry for inviting you to dinner with ulterior motives.” Bruce says this all so quietly, and he stares at his own hands in guilt. “I knew all that already, but…”

“Bruce.” Edward prompts.

Ah, Bruce. Even when he’s talking about his own feelings, he’s putting other people first. He’s rationalising rejection before it’s even been delivered. Giving Eddie an out. “I know.” he says softly. “ - Sorry, yeah, go on. I’m listening, I promise.”

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with liking me.” Edward says primly. “I’m wonderful. But I’m also a very dangerous criminal, and you should not date me under any circumstances. I’m not good for you.”

Bruce pauses, reviewing the statement. That… that isn’t, that’s not really a rejection. Is it? He blinks up at Edward, visibly confused.

Edward looks stern. Determined, even.

“… Yeah?” Bruce almost sounds, hopeful, bless him.

“I can’t be in a relationship with you.” Edward says plainly. “You’re only going to get hurt and you don’t deserve that.”

Yes I do, that’s a fucking lie, I’ve hurt you more times than I can count, thrown you in Arkham… “I don’t know, it… Can’t be much worse than friends, can it…?”

“…Can it?” he asks, wary.

“And you’re a fantastic friend.” Bruce adds.

“People are going to threaten your life over this, Bruce, it isn’t a game.” Edward says, annoyed. At least, this part isn’t, anyway.

“… No, I mean. I know.” Bruce condedes. “You’re right. You’re right, Eddie. People could try to hurt you through me, they could try to use me to get close and do terrible things to you.”

“Exactly. I’m glad you understand that.” Edward sighs.

“I know you’re right,” Bruce continues on, “But the feelings are here anyway… And I mean, it’s not like I don’t already hate to see you hurt.”

“Maybe I don’t want to see you get hurt, have you thought of that?” he snaps quietly.

Bruce rubs the back of his head, quiet. I should drop it. Drive him back to his car, and pretend this conversation never happened. 

Against all wisdom, Bruce pushes on: “… I can’t pretend it’s not a nice feeling to know that you care, either.”

“…” Edward huffs, sitting back in his seat, looking away.

“… So, um, thank you for that.”

“One of us has to keep his wits, I suppose.” Edward snips.

Bruce chuckles softly. “You always were smarter than me. … I know it’s a terrible idea. I know I shouldn’t, I know I should drop the idea and run. But I… I can’t. I’ve been trying to rationalise it away for months and, no matter which angle I look at it from, no matter how bad an idea this could be, it… I’m more attached to how, nice it might be, more than I am scared of the opposite.”

“How nice that must be.” Edward grumbles.

“… Honestly, it scares the shit out of me.”

“…” Edward looks over, incredulous. “You just said…”

Bruce rubs his nose, frowning. “… I’m not scared of being hurt, Eddie. I’m scared of… you leaving.Walking away, wanting nothing to do with me. I’m scared of, how hard it is to put this crush out of mind.”

“I’m not going to do that, Bruce.” Edward mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyes with a sigh.

“… Penny for your thoughts?” A pause. After a moment, Bruce adds,  “… You know, you haven’t actually turned me down.”

“I know.”

“.. Do you, want to talk about it...?”

Edward takes a deep breath, and slowly lets it out in a sigh. “To me, a river bed is better than water beyond grasp, and food in the air is better gone than present in despair.”

Bruce frowns at that for a moment, scratching his palm with the opposite fingernail. “… Is that…Do you mean like, Greek Mythology? Tantalus?”

Edward nods, lips pursed. It’s always so hard to speak, when it’s important.

“…All right….” Bruce mumbles, slowly. “To extend the metaphor, um… If, you do want I - I’m offering to bring you a cup. Or pick the fruit, so the trees can’t bend out of the way anymore.” Softly.

“You’d be cursed too, if you did such a thing.” mutters Edward, glancing away.

“… Yeah, maybe. It’s - I’ve been trying to tell myself this is a bad idea since the spa day, Eddie. I know this isn’t… wise. … But if it’s at least mutual, I’d… I’d prefer to, you know.” 

“… Try it with company, instead of alone.” Bruce’s laugh is tired, and hollow. “Even if it is a bad idea, at least it’s one I get to make with you, instead of in spite of you.”

Since the spa day? Geez. “What do you mean by that?”

“No matter how bad an idea it is to date you,  I still want it… And if that’s mutual, at least I wouldn’t have to navigate whatever comes next by myself. And neither would you. Which… you, implied was the case?”

Edward sighs, tired. Damn it. “Mhm.”

Bruce gives a brief nod, then stares out the windshield, frowning. You shouldn’t have brought it up.

Just because I’m struggling to communicate doesn’t mean you have to match it. Edward rolls his eyes, and grabs Bruce’s hand to hold it, chin propped in the other as he frowns out the window. Stupid crush. Stupid words, thoughts, FEELINGS.

.

… The pessimism vanishes, just… briefly, as Bruce squeezes Edward’s hand. “Let me try this again.”

“Go on.”

“I think you’re wonderful, Eddie. The smartest man I’ve ever met, fun to talk to, and company I treasure. I cannot really… put into the right words, in the right order, how glad I am to be able to call you at least my friend. I think you’re about the most attractive man I know, and I actually fancy you rather a lot. It’s a bad idea. For a lot of reasons between your… vocation, and my publicity, this could blow up in a bunch of ways that could hurt one or both of us. And despite this, I still think it’s worth it to… try. If you feel the same, I think it’s… worth being a little selfish. Just this once… but at least, I can’t just, sit on that anymore.”

“…I’m already holding your hand, Bruce.”

“Yeah, but I made a mess of the words.”

At least you can. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. It certainly won’t be,” Edward says. “But I’ve had some nagging issues on my mind myself, shall we say.”

Bruce nods, and is quiet for a moment.“… I was ready for rejection, you know.”

“What? Some genius I’d be, turning down a catch like you.”

Cautiously, Bruce shifts to lean against Edward. “… I’m not great at being selfish.”

“It’s a nice trait about you.” Eddie murmurs, leaning in a bit himself.

Faint smile. Oh, that’s all right then. Bruce settles, a bit less nervous. “Even if I treat myself, this once..?”

“…do you know who you’re talking to?” Edward grins.

“I’d hope so, or this has all been a terrible mistake.” A glib joke is a good sign.

“If you’re Clayface, you’re dead.”

Bruce has a brief flicker of existential horror. “God, I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“At this point, it’d be a hell of a long play.” Edward snickers.

With a faint grin, Bruce rests an arm around Edward’s shoulders. It’s not unlike the visits leading up to the new year, he decides, when a sleep-deprived Edward would lean on him. Except Edward’s not sleep deprived. 

You’re in trouble, Bruce, Warns the little voice at the back of his head.

Just… let me have this. Bruce pleads back at it, in turn. Let me enjoy it while it lasts. “… It’s a, a shame we missed sunset.”

“There will be others.” A promise, that. Edward’s nervous, despite the calm demeanor and measured words.

“… Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“Just…I’m here, yeah?” This is an effort to be comforting, complete with hopeful smile.

“You are, yes.”

“… I’m nervous too.”

“Why? I said yes.”

Bruce sighs, softly. “I’ve never really had a good relationship, before? Selina’s the closest thing to… and it’s not really the same. So this is all going to be new territory.”

“I’ve never had any. I’ve never had these feelings before and they’re not even slightly comfortable.”

Bruce slowly nods, taking that in. “… If I can, make that easier on you…I’ll, try. Though I don’t know how.”

“The concept as a whole is like a movie about a pandemic, such that everyone else around me always seemed to be getting infected and I was assumed immune…and the twist ending is that I’ve been a carrier, asymptomatic.” Edward shudders. "Obviously, I’ve made some degree of peace with it: I did that on the drive over, I was banking on it being one-sided, after all. It’s not all bad, it’s just a relatively immediate change after a lifetime of nothing, and it’s dreadful in every sense.“

“… I’m sorry, Eddie.” Bruce murmurs, not an apology this time at least, but compassion, emphasized by another gentle squeeze. 

Privately, he considers, yeah, it does sort of seem like a disease. It’s not like he hasn’t been arguing with his own head for months, trying to plead his way out of infatuation. Though he’s not sure he’d call it a virus; it’s not like it’s contagious. It’s more like dementia. Not the time to correct him, maybe. “I was… I assumed the same. That it’d be one sided, that… you remember in Hawaii, when you went to the porch for a bit? I thought you’d noticed, that I was too obvious, that you were upset.”

Edward had, in fact, considered it as such, but dementia was even less comforting as a prospect and he didn’t need the stress. "No…that was the time I’d realized what had changed in me, and why I kept feeling feverish with an uneasy stomach.” His analogy holds water. “I was upset, yes, but that was because I didn’t want to have a crush. I still don’t, but here I am.” Edward laughs weakly. “So what choice is there, but to pursue it?”“There’s always a choice.” says Bruce quietly. “I don’t want to make you sick.”

“I didn’t want to go through this like Tetch.” Edward frowns. “So I tried to outthink it. Like being on a diet, perhaps. But…yes, Bruce, there’s always a choice, and I made it on the drive over.” he hums, glancing over as he pats Bruce’s hand. “Keep up, I’m just monologuing a little, it’s my turn.” A half-joke, in these trying times.

He gets a quiet laugh at that, and Bruce defaults to nodding, resting against Edward’s side. God, this isn’t even a little bit comfortable with the gear shift between them, but who cares.

“But really now…a rogue and a civilian, it’s dangerous…I really don’t want to drag you into that swamp, that’s why I’ve never told you about any of it, plausible deniability and such. But now especially.”

“…Yeah, you still shouldn’t tell me any of that, I don’t think.” Bruce murmurs.

“I never will.” Edward promises. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk, it’s recognition of what I do not need to share.”

Edward is quiet for a moment, frowning. “…you’re really going to be all right with dating a super villain? I’m still doubtful about that, we’re notorious for being a handful.”

“I promise I know that already, at least. I’ve had a thing with Selina for… God, a couple years now.” Bruce replies quietly. “Different MO’s, maybe, but I’m at least, familiar with the idea of turbulence. I’m, honestly, more nervous about dating a man. You’re not the first guy I’ve had a crush on, but I’ve never actually brought it up with any of them before now.“ By this time, he’s quieted to a mumble.

"What do you think the difference will be like?”

…Softly, Bruce hums in thought. “I… have absolutely no idea.”

“…can we go somewhere that there isn’t a gear shift in my ribs?” asks Edward gently.

“Yeah, wanna go grab your car and just… head to someone’s couch or another?”

“Yes please.”

“Your place or mine?” Bruce asks as he leans away, stretches a bit, and puts the car back into gear. Seatbelts, seatbelts… “…God, that sounds like a terrible pick up line.I - I promise I don’t mean it like that.” Bruce says with a flustered chuckle.

“You, not flirting? Casanova himself?” Edward says, settling back into his seat with a grin. “Let’s do yours.”

“Yeah, all right.” Bruce grins faintly, pink in the ears, and heads back to nab Edward’s car before the lot closes. And then, off he drives for home.

Edward follows at his own pace, back to Bruce’s, pondering. This is unturned ground for him, after all. Could be gold in those hills. This could be fun, actually, couldn’t it? It’s new, It’s interesting…yeah. Yeah!

Meanwhile, Bruce takes the drive back home to overthink. God, he should’ve put on cologne. Does he need mouthwash? That wasn’t even what I was supposed to tell him in the first place fuck damn it, how long do you think you can keep it hidden now? From the smartest man in Gotham? 

You’re a fucking idiot, Bruce.

…Maybe it won’t be so bad. Bruce finds himself hoping, against all hope. Maybe he’ll forgive me. Maybe he’ll never find out. Even if it blows up, I just… I want to enjoy this while I can.  

#dcau askblog #themarmaladeblog #long post #btas askblog #happy valentine's day #off camera #plot

[carmineclock]

Play Me A Hurtin Tune

Trace 03/04/2019

Your name is Trace and sometime after the worst of the blizzard, on yet another cold day, you have the pleasure of being stuck working outdoors. Fortunately, your three layers of coat and scarves make it easy to hide the worst of your green skin. With just a little bit of makeup, you look normal enough to be able to traverse Crew territory without catching much attention. A risky job regardless, but you don't deserve anything else after your royal fuckup.

But you don't want to complain too loudly, because at least you're allowed to work in the field and don't have to rot in a cell. And this way, no one else has to risk their neck for this, because you're still the best for this kinda job.

It's still a tedious task. Trying to track down local joints and shady dealerships without contacts and without standing out too much, and from there try to pin down their supply lines, since you want to hit them where it hurts.

It's not the first day you're snooping around and you're finally starting to pick up some leads. One is especially promising - a nearby shop owner. Not the front for a speakeasy or arms dealer or anything himself, but he's supposed to get you into wherever you need. With any luck, he's the only contact you need to get this job done and over with and finally head home, so with hasty steps you head to the adress you were given.

NPC/Karako 03/04/2019

You are Karako Pierot. You're on the job today now that the blizzard isn't going to straight up murder you so you aren't wearing your paints. Too easy to pick out your blood color with it, though you dislike being without. The greater generic-ness to your appearance is good just in case. You're doing a pick up at one of the little stores, one you've not been to before yet.

To they eyes of most folks, you are some troll kid either doing errands or something. Your stunted growth and baby face serve you well in this job.

Seeing someone else making their way to the shop in the distance, you take a small turn to another place across the street from your destination in order to wait for him to go. Letting people see the exchange is a big ol' no no. Better to wait and be careful. You pretend to shop around while keeping an eye out on the other store front to see this random brother leave. You don't figure it'll be long.

March 5, 2019

Trace 03/05/2019

You slip into the store, finally free of the merciless cold. You shake yourself a little, then loosen your scarves and coat a little, trying to relax and act all casual, then have a look around the little hardware store. Not very busy, especially during this time of the day and this kind of weather.

"God damn cold", you curse more to yourself than the store owner. "Busted some pipes" you quickly improvise. Good enough reason to be here. Over to the pipes and appropriate tools you go. "Always the same shit every year. Not been this bad in a while tho, has it?" This is more directed at the store owner now as you draw closer.

NPC/Karako 03/05/2019

You are currently the owner of this little hardware store. You are a Dersite without a glamour and you glance over to the customer who's entered. Casually you nod to his question, "Yeah, pretty nasty winter this year. I except spring will do it's best to make us miss the cold anyway."

Meanwhile the smol clown is still watching the shop door from across the street.

March 6, 2019

Trace 03/06/2019

Still oblivious to the potential onlooker, you pick up some pipes and look them over, pretending to measure and compare them for size. You need a fitting one after all.

You crack a short laugh. "Yeah, probably. But 'least you can still walk outside. Not with a storm like that though." With a few pieces of tools and metal picked out that look like they could vaguely go together, you head up towards the counter.

"Hey, uh. Friend of mine told me you know where to some more special hardware.. Y'know?" A clumsy approach, but it would hopefully sell the awkward neighbour act. "Uh, just in case. Had some shady figures sneaking around lately."

NPC/Karako 03/06/2019

You, the owner of the shop, raise an eyebrow. If this guy was looking for a piece off the record he probably had something in mind for it. You start to ring up the pipes as you say, "Oh? Who's the friend? Some folks get confused." Plausible deniability was important but if this guy had a good name then you'll supply him per orders from the top.

March 8, 2019

Trace Last Friday at 9:44 AM

More improvising, here we go. You got more than enough practice with that, but it's always a gamble if you can sell the story properly.

"Neighbour of mine. A-something. Acqui--? Uh, sorry. Can never remember those old Derse style names. AK. If that's even his right name." You lean in a little. Can't have anyone snooping on you admitting crimes after all. "Been playing poker with him over a few drinks. Y'know. We got talking about this and that and he showed me his iron. Told me to ask around here. You know something, right?"

NPC/Karako Last Friday at 2:17 PM

Not the right name but someone must be blabbing for this guy to be here. You could keep playing dumb or you could possibly draw him further in and catch him for the bosses. After all, if someone is talkin' to the wrong people they'd better do something about it, right?

You've got your gun on you so this shouldn't be hard. "Right... I might know somethin depending on what you have in mind," you say casually.

The small clown across the street is starting to get a lil bit restless. shouldn't the guy be done in there by now? What's going on? Should he go get a closer look?

Trace Last Friday at 7:28 PM

You watch him closely, on the lookout for any reaction that would tip you off if he's buying it or having his doubts. Always need to be prepared for the worst, though you'd really like to avoid having to get rid of someone in the midst of Crew territory. "Uh, y'know. Something small and simple that gets the job done. Not an expert with these things."

NPC/Karako Last Friday at 7:50 PM

You arch an eyebrow but nod slightly. "I might have something," you say. Perhaps if you can get him in the back you can subdue him and hand him over to the bosses for questioning. You push yourself off the counter as you speak, "If you're interested in lookin' I can show you." You take the few steps that separate the counter and door to the back and hold it open for him.

You, Karako, are getting all kinds of itchy anxious about how long that guy's been in there. You've got at least five more locations to pick up and drop at for the day and you're going to run behind and disappoint Boss Boxcars who was nice enough to give you this job. You're also wanting to finish work fast so you can go check on your brother's hive just to make sure he still exists and stuff.

You leave the shop you've been loitering in and sneak over to the one you need to pick up from, hiding in an alleyway. You look for a side window or some spot where you can get a listen to what's going on. Finding one, you are disappointed to see it's to the back room and duck down out of view and try to think.

March 11, 2019

Trace Last Monday at 6:45 PM

You can't believe it worked so easily. Honestly, you don't believe it, and intuition rarely let you down. Still, you have a chance to get some information out of him, no matter how this goes. Just gotta be on your guard.

You keep up the act for now, giving him a dopey and satisfied grin, like an idiot that thinks he just hit the jackpot. "Sure do, whatchu got?" You follow him around the corner, one hand around the pipes you're claiming to purchase, the other digging in your hand for more backup if you need it.

NPC/Karako Last Monday at 7:17 PM

Trying to get the guy to turn his back to you, you open a large locked box then step back with a gesture for him to look. You've got a hammer within reach. You'd rather use that than your gun since the goal is to capture him and a gunshot could catch the attention of cops if word gets back to them.

You, the small clown, hear voices now and you listen very alert and curious as to what is going on here.

March 12, 2019

Trace Last Tuesday at 7:47 AM

"Is that where the treasure is?" You step up to the box, though you go for more of a sideways glance, making sure you don't fully offer your back to him. You're not a fool, you just play one. But you're still very much interested in what you can find in the box. Does he actually have some guns, or is it a trap?

NPC/Karako Last Tuesday at 1:28 PM

There are in fact some guns in the box. None of the big stuff of course, that's more securely hidden, but several hand guns can clearly be seen. You can't help but be frustrated that this idiot isn't turning his back to you. But he doesn't seem like the brightest of individuals, so you bank on taking him off guard and snatch up the hammer and attempt to whack him with the blunt side in the head.

Now you being Karako again, hear the word treasure and it makes you curious enough to risk peeping into the window again while still trying to remain unseen. You've noticed there's a door nearby probably from that room to out here so you gotta be careful no body comes after you.

Trace Last Tuesday at 9:16 PM

You want to reach into the box, but stop yourself short. Partially because it's putting yourself in a more risky and disadvantaged position, partially because he might not like it. "Ahh, may I.. touch them?" you ask. "That's a lotta babes. Where are you getting them?"

He's not giving you the reply you're hoping for thought. You catch the movement in the corner of your eye just in time to react. Melee has never been one of your core strengths, but you've been expecting it, so you easily manage to deflect his arm with the pipe in your hand.

You don't plan to give him a chance to recover and reconsider his attack. Instead, you hit him over the head with the very same pipe, then grab him by the collar and shove him against the nearest shelf.

"'s not a nice way to treat a customer, sir." Well, the jig is up for sure. At this point all you can do is try to get as much info out of him as you can, then decide whether he's a liability that knows too much. "Come on, I just wanted to know who got you the guns, alright? Doesn't have to be this hard and painful for either of us." You try your best to make this sound like a genuinely nice offer, but you can hardly hide the snarl in your voice.

NPC/Karako Yesterday at 12:03 AM

After the bash to your head with the pipe, you're dazed for a moment before you growl in return, "Nobody." You then attempt to get your gun from the back of your trousers. Ain't no way you're gonna squeal, or at least that's what you think. Everyone thinks they're tough till the pressure is on.

Once again Karako, you cover your mouth as you see the shop keeper attempt to attack the the guy you'd been waiting to leave then bite back a honk as that same guy bashes the shopkeep in the noggin. Thus far you watch this play out in silence. Ya this isn't good at all and you don't quite think yet to message someone about it.

Should you bust in there and help? Or would that be a mistake? Who is this guy. You squint and stare at him, trying to lock his face in your brain in case it's important.

Trace Yesterday at 8:27 PM

"Bullshit", you hiss. "I'm not-" you want to continue, but trail off when you notice him wiggling around. Not the kind of a guy struggling to escape, but the subtle ones of someone trying to reach for something.

You grunt annoyed and reach for your own pocket, then shove your knife against his throat, not caring if you draw a little blood. "You better stop that right there" you growl while trying to feel his gun to remove it.

NPC/Karako Yesterday at 8:52 PM

The knife scraping against your carapace and digging in a bit causes you to freeze. It's not hard for your assailant to find your gun. And as you feel him attempt to take your last weapon, you attempt to punch him in the jaw to knock him away from you.

Being the small clown, you pull out a knife of your own as you continue to debate over what to do.

Trace Yesterday at 10:03 PM

Oh, he just had to go for it, huh. He manages to hit you where he intended, but you instinctly drive the knife into his neck at the same time. "The fuck-" You pull away some snarl angrily, baring your teeth, then lean back in to drive the knife even deeper. He's already a dead man, at least you can make sure he won't make a noise to give you some more time to look for clues in peace.

NPC/Karako Yesterday at 10:36 PM

You are dead/dying and with a blade in your neck you crumble to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Back to being yourself, Karako, you see the punch and from that the man's underbite and a hint of green skin. And then the shopkeep has a knife in his neck! You can't help but honk rather loudly at the green you see as it means this isn't just some guy but a genuine Felt guy who just did a murder.

Then realizing the sound you made, you duck out of the window's view coving your mouth in horror. Oh no. OH FUCK

Trace Yesterday at 10:53 PM

You whirl around when you hear the noise. Someone was there.. and you got a fraction of a second to decide what to do.

Chances are, if you leave now, no cop in the city would be able to incriminate you. But if the crew gets wind of someone sniffing around and attacking their dealers, that'll blow all your work out of the water.

While the dude gurgles through his last breath, you grab his gun and dart through the backdoor to try and catch the witness.

NPC/Karako Yesterday at 11:00 PM

As soon as you hear the sound of the door handle being turned you barrel down the alleyway, with a leap you grab onto the bottom of a fire escape ladder and try to climb to the roof before he can hurt you. If you can get to the roofs you can make a get away pretty easy you bet.

March 14, 2019

Trace Today at 9:39 AM

A troll. A small one. The horns are obvious enough, but you can't figure out much more than that from behind. If he gets away, that's that. Fortunately, trails make it easy enough to follow.

You give chase immediately. You don't even try to tell him to wait. Obvious enough that he wouldn't, so you save your breath for running.

What he might have up on you in speed, you can make up with longer legs, so you're at the ladder not too long after him and climb up.

NPC/Karako Today at 10:35 AM

You hear the clang of metal signalling that he's after you. Shit shit SHIT. You don't hesitate to continue scuttling your way up and climb over the edge of the roof.

Hiding isn't an option cause if you're found it's not just a beating you'll get, you're sure you'll be super motherfuckin dead. So you charge accross the rooftop with all your might and go for the leap to the building next door.

Trace Today at 7:46 PM

You reach the top of the roof shortly after - and see him charging towards the edge. Well uh. Huh. You're great at following people, but you're not out to tempt your fate with acrobatics like these. But you can't let him get away. Curse it.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you lift the gun you picked up and aim at him. Fortunately, the gun was actually loaded and ready. Unfortunately, the little guy is way too agile and even though you're not the worst shot, you miss all three bullets. Fuck.

NPC/Karako Today at 8:11 PM

It sure seems like he missed as you hear the sound of the gun go off three times. Little do you and he realize that his aim was not entirely off as you are so hyped on adrenaline(or the troll variant of that) and survival instinct that your brain has not yet been notified of the wound in your lower right side.

You leap to the next roof and keep going till the pain signals reach your think pan. It makes you trip and you  roll down the slope of the next roof and thankfully you fall into a large drift of snow. Still hurts like a motherfuck along with the gunshot wound. There are people on the street making noise after hearing the gunshots and you scramble out of the snowbank and clutching your side you stagger to a hiding place. Hopefully that guy can't follow you and find you.

You then remember the fact that your phone is a thing that exists and with purple stained fingers you make a call.

Trace Today at 11:01 PM

Well, fuck, that sure went badly. You follow him to the edge of the roof you're on, but no further. You think you can spot a bit of blood, so it seems like you've hit him after all. Which... might actually make your situation worse. Before, there was a chance that was just a random bystander scared forever into silence. But now he is injured and in need of help, so someone is probably going to hear about this, be it the police or the crew.

You also realize that... you just fired off a gun in crew territory. It's bound to attract some attention, so you can't afford to linger around here for much longer. Surely you could try following his trail, but that is getting riskier by the moment. Plus, you still need to dig up more information.

Begrudgingly, you make your way down and back to the hardware store to find what notes you can and leave a few minutes later. You also make a point to grab a few guns out of the box, only to toss them into the next best dumpster. Might be enough to make it all look merely like an arms deal gone wrong.

#logs

[reatrea]

LTJG Michael Whitley: "I..." The engineer would pause, evidently trying to put words together properly. "You should've heard their voices, teach. They blamed me. They never outright said it, but... They blamed me for her death." Whit would sit there for a long moment, silently, before shaking his head. An obviously faked smile would be broad across his face. "But, y'know, I'll just show up, do what I need to, and dip out, yeah?"

Lt Vance chimes in from afar "You know what happened to me the last time I did that? You learned about it in my class."

Commander T'Sala:  "Did you ask them if they blamed  you?" she asks

LTJG Michael Whitley: Turning to face Vance, Whit would nod. "I remember. But, everyone deals in their own way." Turning back towards T'Sala, Whit would shake his head. "That's part of what I'm going to do while I'm there."

T'Sala lets out a little sigh from her nose. "You are not mistaken, everyone does. I am sorry that is what reached your ears, whether that was their intent or not does not change the pain of the mark it left."

LTJG Michael Whitley: Shaking his head, Whit would flash the faked grin again, "It is what it is, professor. I'll live."

Commander T'Sala:. "You you live. Life does indeed continue despite the pain. But I want you to look at me a moment Whit." she says shifting her eyes to catch his again. "Do you blame yourself?”

LTJG Michael Whitley: "I... If I hadn't been there, she wouldn't have. On the flip side, if she had just accepted my choices, she wouldn't have. So... I don't know how to feel, professor."

T'Sala nods and takes a breath. "I went through the same with my first husband. I will not deny a touch of petulance in my motivation but I wanted to be as free as possible from my Father's influence. Which is a story of its own. But we took the test in secret and applied to SFA. Salak wouldn't have if I did not. Then he was killed in combat. I also held him as he left.

I will tell you from intimate experience that you will never know the answer to "what if" and that it is most destructive when you direct it at the past. Instead, try and direct it at the future when you can. "What if I can prevent the next war to help this not happen again." Grief will never get easier. Do not let any 'bull shit' you other wise. You do get better at dealing with it. At looking it in the face and accepting its presence. I am still trying myself after seven years. I am Vulcan and there are still periods where I break down and cry.

Vulcans see grief as inevitable. But it can also be the most dangerous if not controlled. Because grief can turn into despair which is a harder and more destructive to the mind than even rage. We wear grieving markers much like the Romulans although it is our clothing, because it is that important to be given time and space to grieve in our own way BUT to have someone keep an eye on us because of how it can twist the mind. I am proud of you for facing this. You are doing it sooner than I was able to." She gives him a gentle look.

LTJG Michael Whitley: Sitting in silence as the commander speaks, Whit would let a small smile cross his features. "I'm just so sick of running from this, y'know? My own family, for fucks sake... As far as dealing with the grief its self? It's not alright. I'm not alright, and I'll be the first to admit it. But... I make it alright. It's alright because it has to be, yeah? I'll deal with it... When I get around to it. And that's all there is to it," He'd pause, his usual mischievous grin crossing his features, "professor."

Commander T'Sala: “It is your family and you should go back. You -are- done running and that is where you should focus now. Let this be a personal milestone. And I am agreeable to throw you out if I must next week. Perhaps even with a shuttle so you do not need to walk. Humor aside you are dealing. Everyone goes at their own pace. I have found some comfort as of late asking others how they deal because I've been on the edge of despair for so long...”

“Sometimes.." she pauses to make herself say it. "... I -do- fall into despair. I am not always alright either. Some days the amount of strength to get out of bed is like lifting a planet. But we do it and get through it. And that is something I find people do not cheer each other on for enough. It is also something people who haven't been through it will never understand. For me, helping others through it has been healing in its own way. Which is why Juvi -needs- you. No one else will get it like you do. And maybe you will help yourself along the way."

LTJG Michael Whitley: "Well..." The man would sit there in silence for a long moment, once more at a loss for words. "Fuck. That was... Pretty solid, teach. Thanks. I uh... I'll make sure I take that leave next week."

Commander T'Sala: “Good man." T'Sala nods firmly and stands, poking his shoulder. "And I am not a Professor. Im not allowed to be called that without a doctorates." LTJG Michael Whitley: "Professor, I mean this with all sincerity. Fuck the paperwork. Between experience and actions, you've more than earned the title. The paperwork just hasn't caught up yet because you keep getting shafted with bullshit. So... Yeah. Professor." The man would smirk, but a grin would flicker around the edge of it.

Commander T'Sala: For a rare moment in her life the Vulcan resists the perhaps downright genetic urge to argue. "Very well. Just not in front of the Admirals or Professor VonGrippen." She shakes her head. "What am I going to do with you, Whit? Besides put my boot on your bottom or hand on your back or just believe in you when you need it." She perks a brow.

LTJG Michael Whitley: "I mean...  Might as well let me do what I'm good at. Throw my ass in an engine room and walk away, and pull full plausible deniability when shit goes sideways?" The grin would remain in full force, mischievous as ever. Art By: HunnBunn

Main Blog: https://outpostzeta.tumblr.com/

#damnitWhitley outpost Zeta Vulcan Starfleet Acadmey

[bounnostra]

i'm telling my mom on you | SEATTLE | grand don power hour 1 | RE: Moss, Pip ATTN: people who talked with Benny

Seattle scoffs at Gambit's lack of preparedness, but keeps any shitty comments he may have to himself.

He adjusts his glasses and looks over to Moss on his left.

"Moss... I hope you know you'll be facing consequences for your actions, one way or another. Should we both make it out of here alive, which I hope we do... The California Republic and Sonoma will ensure you're never awarded another research grant. You can't be trusted with mycology anymore."

Seattle's posture tenses up as he turns to Pip, and he cannot seem to meet him in the eye.

"Pip... Just, y'know... Hope you don't have to die, man. If we're lucky... maybe no one has to die, with an outcome like this."

He sighs and looks up at the class.

"Right, anyways. I agree with what's been suggested so far. We've been looking around Nostra since the game show, and I think sharing the information we've uncovered about our surroundings and the game itself will get the ball rolling. We can cross the bridge of... asking for peoples' personal information later, if need be."

The expression on his face says he's really not ready to try pulling those teeth again.

"As for me, I know a little about Benny. According to my source, Benny told someone outside her gang that 'her gang hasn't been asking her anything of use', so..."

He rolls his shoulders to relax before continuing.

"Basically what I'm saying is that it's public knowledge that Benny, Claire and Mothman are each guiding one of our gangs right now. However, Benny is the only guide with the ability to speak to people outside her gang - and she has done so! So, members of Benny's gang should not be afraid to share a little information on her, given this plausible deniability."

#boun #ch4 #mm trial #seattle #submission