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screamingatanemptyroom · 2 days

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The Healer pt 3

The story continues! Hope you guys like it!

Part 1 and 2 linked here.

Enjoy!

_____________________________

The Hero’s party stood with their backs to us, arguing loudly. They obviously didn’t hear Stephanie’s call, and kept their focus on the man in front of them.

“How dare you go back on our deal?!” Jack the Hero snapped, his face twisted with rage. “You have always been our chief supplier!”

Rita the Holy Archer spoke up, flipping her long blond hair over her shoulder as she did so. “Yeah, you never turned us down before!”

The massive and imposing form of Garrett the Giant loomed over the group as he stood by with his arms crossed, nodding in agreement. The fourth and final member, Rebecca the Sorceress, leaned against the Hero, her eyes filled with tears as if everyone in the room had personally wronged her.

Seeing the group together again was… rough, to say the least. I had once considered three of them, Jack, Rita and Garrett, my closest friends. We had played the game together before the Downfall, spending late nights going on raids and completing quests. They had been the brightest part of a life that had been greatly overshadowed by my parents’ expectations and disapproval. I had valued their friendship, so much so that I was willing to break myself over and over again just to stay by their side. I had lied to myself, that I was just as much a part of the team as they were. That I was valued, even if they didn’t always say so. That I was lucky to have them, given that I had chosen the class I did. I hated myself for my weakness, but refused to leave, too dependent on them to try to break off on my own.

Until Jack finally betrayed me enough to wake me up to the truth:

They had never been my friends.

As for Rebecca… my gaze settled on the pitifully crying girl. She was crying when I met her, too.

______________________

“Healer! Help! I have an injured person here!” At Jack’s frantic cry, I forced myself awake and ran out of my house, surprised to see him carrying a young, beautiful woman. Her face was unnaturally pale, her red hair matted with blood, stuck to her forehead. Her clothing was scorched in several areas, making her seem even more pitiful. I paused for a moment, feeling a brief discomfort at the sight of Jack holding her with a tenderness in his eyes I had never seen before.

We were not a couple. He had hinted his interest several times, but we had agreed to wait until the world was more stable before discussing it deeply. I wasn’t sure of my own feelings, having always considered him a good friend, but I knew that in the midst of a life or death battle was probably not the best time to give a real answer. Jack hadn’t been happy with my response, but said he understood. He hadn’t brought it up again, but the sight of his distress for the woman in his arms made me wonder if I had his answer.

Either way, it was no time to work out my feelings on the matter. I pushed away the flash of unease at the two’s closeness and stepped forward to look at the young woman. She flinched away from my gaze, her teary eyes looking up at Jack.

“Don’t bother your friend! I just need a potion and I’ll be fine.”

Jack smiled at her. “Nonsense, you fainted just a minute ago. The Healer may be useless in a fight, but she can do targeted therapy for whatever injuries you have.”

I winced at the word “useless”, a term I was all too used to from my childhood.

“Wait!” Rather than being comforted, this seemed to distress the young man more. She struggled slightly, seeming unable to free herself from Jack’s hold. “I don’t…”

I lost patience, and reached out my hand, putting it on her forehead.

“Scan.”

**The Healer has activated Scan -20MP. Target is not in your party and some information is withheld.

Rebecca the Sorceress

Class –Magic User

Title – Sorceress, Magic Student, Dependent, Poison Master.

Level 56

HP 209/250

MP 280/300

STR ***

DEX ***

INT ***

WIS ***

CHAR ***

Current status: Charm applied + 50 Charisma – 1 hour remaining.

Healing status – mild abrasions to forehead, right elbow, and anterior thigh- 10 sq centimeters total surface area. First degree burns – dorsum of foot, and right wrist – 5 square centimeters total surface area. Mild poison toxicity – side effects include pallor, diaphoresis and generalized weakness. – 10 minutes remaining. **

I frowned as I read through the information. Jack quickly began asking questions.

“How bad is it, Healer? Will she be all right? You can fix it, right?”

“Some scrapes and mild burns, no worse than a sunburn, just needs her wounds dressed and some ointment for pain and to prevent infection. How did she get poisoned?”

“Poisoned?” He brought her into my house and set her down on my bed. “She wasn’t poisoned, she was protecting a family from bandits.”

I shrugged, getting out supplies and carefully cleaning and dressing her injuries. “The scan says she was poisoned, probably about an hour ago judging by the remaining cooldown. Nothing bad, just something that would make her pale, sweaty and weak.”

Rebecca began crying loudly as I finished bandaging her. Before I could react, Jack pushed me out of the way, leaning over to check on her. I slammed by back into the dresser, groaning with pain as it struck.

“Did she hurt you?!” He asked Rebecca, frowning as he looked over her bandages.

She blinked back tears, regaining control of herself. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried… The way she said it… it sounds like she’s accusing me of taking poison on purpose!”

I gingerly stood up, rubbing my back where it hit the dresser. “I didn’t mean to imply…”

“Shut up, Healer!” He laid a hand on Rebecca’s head. “Just ignore her. She’s just a burden our team carries around because we happened to know her before the Downfall.”

I closed my eyes at his words, trying to ignore both the physical and emotional pain.

______________________

“Why can’t you help us?!” Rebecca was sobbing, blinking her tear-filled eyes and staring at the man in front of their group. “Don’t you know we’re humanity’s only hope?”

“They’re our only hope?”Alton leaned in, whispering “We’re so doomed.”

Stephanie and I chuckled quietly in response.

The owner of the shop, Winter, stood silently in front of the Hero’s party. He was tall, although still shorter than Garrett the Giant. Somehow his demeanor made him seem to tower over the entire group. His white hair was cropped short, at odds with his younger appearing face, placing him in his late twenties. His eyes were a bright pale blue, his handsome feature marred only by a large scar tracing across his face, only barely missing his right eye. His face was expressionless, almost bored, unchanged by Rebecca’s tears.

“You seem to be having a bit of a misunderstanding.” Winter finally spoke up, his voice quiet and cold. “I never had a deal with YOU.”

“LIAR!” Jack screamed. “You’ve always…”

“I’ve had a deal with your healer.” He raised an eyebrow. “And she’s not with you anymore. So I have no reason to deal with you.”

“The Healer?” Rita laughed, her sharp features and gaze filled with a mocking light. “That useless baggage? Why would you care if she’s with us or not?”

“…” Winter stared at her silently, and seemingly pressured, Rita stepped back, hiding behind Garrett. “Foolish.”

“We’re foolish?” Jack asked, shaken but still angry. “You’re the one who is turning down the opportunity of a lifetime. Just because of some bit…”

SMACK!

Winter backhanded the Hero, sending him down to the floor with a calm expression.

“Close your foul mouth, or I’ll close it for you.” He raised an eyebrow. “Any questions?”

Stephanie raised her hand. “Where do I sign up to be part of his fan club?” Alton raised his hand as well, nodding.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You never change., Winter”

At my words, Winter turned towards me, his cold blank expression melting into a bright smile.

“Natalie! You’re here!”

“…”

Everyone in the room turned to stare at me. I shrunk back slightly. Alton spoke up first, frowning. “Natalie?”

I sighed. “My real name, or more accurately, my name before the Downfall. I don’t like using it anymore.” I don’t like the person who wore that name, nor the people who bestowed it upon me. “Healer is a much more accurate title.”

Alton smiled and shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy, Miss Healer.”

Winter’s smile faded a bit, and he walked forward, stepping on the Hero as he did so, ignoring his grunt of pain.

“Are you okay? I just heard about the price on your head. Did they hurt you?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. You know that they couldn’t hurt me if they tried.”

“Anyone can get hurt if they get caught off guard, Nat.” He put a hand on my shoulder, staring into my eyes. “You should have left a long time ago. They didn’t deserve your loyalty.”

“Well, she’s got a new team now!” Alton stepped in excitedly.

“Yeah! We’re much better than those creeps!” Stephanie joined in. The two gave each other and me a thumbs up.

Winter stared at them for a while, before sighing. “I told you that you didn’t have to fight with anyone. Yet you still race towards danger at the side of these… people. What has humanity ever done for you?”

I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a soft sigh. “Not everyone is as terrible as you think.”

“That’s rich, considering what state you were in when we first met.” The disappointment in his eyes was clear. I flinched, trying not to think of the circumstances of our first meeting.

“That’s not…”

“STOP IGNORING ME!” Rebecca cried out, fire blazing at her fingertips as she glared at all of us. As we quieted down, she focused her gaze on Winter. “Why are you so obsessed with her? She’s a useless healer! We are the HERO’S PARTY!”

Winter stepped closer, and she shrank into Jack’s side, trying to get away, but froze when Winter’s gaze met hers. “You know nothing, poison witch. A Healer is a noble profession, only meant for the strongest of heart and mind. “

“Y-you…”

“Now get out of my store.” He pointed at the exit, and after a moment of silence, the hero’s party shuffled out. Jack paused at the doorway, looking at me with a serious expression. “My offer is still open. We will attack the forty second gate in 3 days. With or without you.”

And with that, he was gone, and all was quiet.

“What idiots.” Alton sat down on a nearby chair, frustrated. “They’re going to put all of humanity at risk.”

“No more than they deserve.” At Winter’s harsh tone, everyone turned to him again.

“You don’t like humans?” Alton asked.

“Any reason why I should?”

He pointed at me. “Miss Healer is a human.”

“The exception, not the rule.”

I shook my head at his solemn reply. “We came here for supplies. Can you help us?”

“Of course.” He agreed immediately, pulling out a large bag from behind the counter and handing it straight to me. “On the house.”

“You know I’ll never agree to that.” I dropped some custom potions and gold on the table. “You have to stay in business.”

Winter shook his head, but I insisted. “Take it or I go somewhere else for supplies.”

“…Fine.” After a long hesitation, he finally reached out and took the items, carefully arranging them on the shelf on the back wall.

“…” Stephanie and Alton stared silently at the exchange between us.

“I smell drama!” Stephanie whispered loudly.

Alton nodded silently, frowning.

“Speaking of which, PREPARE TO BE AMAZED!” Stephanie stepped forward, dropping the pelts onto the counter. “BEHOLD! I HAVE COMPLETED MY QUEST!”

Winter looked over the wolf furs, nodding silently. “This is what I asked for.” His tone was unimpressed. Stephanie grinned, not intimidated.

“So you’ll pay me this time?”

“This time?” I turned to her. “How many times has he scammed you with fake quests?”

“They aren’t fake!” She defended, clutching the bag of gold he handed her. “He just has high standards.”

“Did you count your payment?”

“… I was about to.” She opened the sac of gold and muttered to herself, before staring accusingly at Winter. “It’s only half!”

“Because you didn’t get the pelts.” He inclined his head towards me. “I know Nat’s work when I see it.”

“I helped, though! I lured them all the way to her!”

“And I bet she asked for half.”

“How did you know?!” She paused. “I was going to give it to her.”

I sighed. “Just pay her the whole amount. Your deal was for the pelts, it doesn’t matter how she got them. If I want the cash, I’ll get it from her.”

“…”

“Besides, she’s my teammate…”

Stephanie jumped in. “AND BEST FRIEND!”

“…In a way it’s paying me.”

“…” He sat a second bag of gold down, which Stephanie snatched up and counted with glee. Winter ignored her, looking at me.

“You’re really doing this again? Trusting humans?”

I shook my head. “I don’t trust anyone.”

“You trust too much… you just pretend like you don’t to comfort yourself.” He thought things over. “Where are you going next?”

Alton joined in. “We’re going to go hunting in the fortieth level forest. Try to get a feel for our fighting style.”

“What about your fourth party member? Your team is incomplete.”

“Maybe we’re just picky?” Alton offered.

Winter stared at us. Stephanie broke first. “Everyone’s too scared to work with Alton, and they think Healer is a burden.”

“…”

“We don’t though! We think she’s awesome.”

Winter finally smiled at that. “Alright then.” He began packing a bag. “I’ll join your team.”

“AWESOME!”

“Is that even possible?”

“You’ll what?!”

Stephanie, Alton and I spoke up at the same time. Winter continued to pack, undisturbed by our shouts.

“You need a fourth teammate, and Nat needs someone to watch her back. It’s a win-win. ”

Alton stared at him. “Why do you think she needs your help?”

Winter didn’t flinch. “She needs it. Needed it since the beginning.”

After studying him a long moment, the dark wizard turned towards me. “It’s your call. I trust your judgement with this.”

I rubbed my forehead, feeling tired. “Why don’t we do a trial before making anything official? Go fight together. See how it goes from there.”

“… You don’t trust me?” Winter asked quietly.

“You’d have to be their teammates as well, fighting to protect humanity. I don’t see why you are volunteering. You’ve never cared before.” Was my equally quiet answer.

After a long moment of consideration, he nodded in agreement. “…Fine. A test mission first.”

“Wait!” Stephanie chimed in. “Can NPCs even join human parties? Aren’t they the ones who give quests?”

Winter placed his packed bag on his back, grabbing a bow and some arrows. “My kind are not a part of the Rules. We follow them, just like you do.”

“So you’re like us?” Alton asked, curious.

“No.” His tone was flat. “I am nothing like you humans. But I can join your party.”

“Great! Let’s go on an adventure!” Stephanie ran towards the door, and shaking my head, I followed her.

“Should be interesting.”

____________________________

The fortieth-floor forest was filled with death. Black twisted trees, grey, dried out grass. Shadows from nothing, movements that didn’t make sense. I stood in place, feeling the constant overwhelming sensation of being watched.

Alton smiled, seeming right at home. “Alright guys, this place is chocked full of undead, perfect for a good fight. We just need to get a sense for how everyone else works, and how to help each other.”

“Sounds good!” Stephanie pulled out her enormous sword and grinned. “I’ll tank!”

“Great. I’ll provide crowd control and protection through magic.” He turned towards Winter, who seemed relaxed despite the evil forest around him. “What about you?”

Winter held up his bow. “I’ll pick off monsters from the back.”

“Great. That just leaves Miss Healer…” He turned towards me. “How would you like to fight?”

His question caught me by surprise. When I fought with the Hero’s party, I had often supported them secretly, standing afar, silently using my healing magic to add further injuries to my teammate’s attacks. It was difficult, making myself appear useless while protecting and attacking at the same time.

But now… I was able to openly and honestly take part with the team.

I smiled. “I want to be in the front.”

Stephanie cheered. “Besties tanks!”

“Sounds like we have a plan.” Alton grinned, looking every inch the evil wizard. “Let’s go.”

It didn’t take long before we ran into a large group of undead. Zombies, skeletons, shadowy creatures with claws and spikes, crawled out between the trees, their eyes glowing red with hunger.

“Kill!” A gravelly voice came out of the large skeleton, staring at me. I walked forward calmly, no weapons in my hands.

Undead didn’t have blood. Didn’t have beating hearts. They needed no oxygen, absorbing their energy from the living. Which limited my options. I would have to go for attacks that caused physical damage.

Stephanie ran forward with a loud cry, swinging her large sword and decapitating the first zombie in her field of vision. Alton chanted, his spells separating the zombies out in smaller groups, hindering their movement and slowing their attacks. I could hear the buzzing of arrows as Winter calmly shot down enemy after enemy.

It was my turn.

I held a scalpel in my hand, the cool metal somewhat comforting against my skin. A group of ten zombies shuffled towards me, trying to shake off the bonds of Alton’s magic.

Wordless incantation was still in cooldown. I would have to speak out loud to activate my spells. I stepped closer to the group

“Amputation.”

**The Healer has cast Amputation x 10. – 1000 MP. **

My magic reached out to each of the zombies, chopping off each of their right legs at the mid-thigh, slicing cleanly through rotting muscle and bone. The zombies groaned in confusion, falling to the ground. I watched them carefully, recognizing they were still dangerous despite their helpless appearance.

This is when Jack or the others would rush in to claim the kill… and then complain about the automatic XP share since my magic contributed to the fight. But now that I don’t have them… what now?

Amputation was a spell that could only be applied to limbs. Small and large incision could cut their throats, but not enough to decapitate them which was what was needed.

A brief feeling of hopelessness rose up within me. The despair that had filled my days as I fought in this strange world beside others who had ridiculed me and belittled me. I chose a worthless class, one that struggles to put down wounded zombies…

One of the zombies flipped onto its stomach, beginning to pull itself towards me, teeth bared. Simultaneously, a spell and an arrow hit its remaining leg, pinning it into place. Stephanie was still fighting her group of zombies, but seeing me hesitate shouted out: “Go get ‘em!”

They’re encouraging me. The stark contrast of this fight from my past team made me smile. I wanted to live up to the support of this strange new team. I thought of a plan, and I reached out my hand, focusing.

“Craniotomy.”

**The Healer has cast Craniotomy x 10. – 5,000 MP.**

The skulls cracked open, revealing rotting brains. I kept an eye on my numbers, even with my unusually large mana pool, I couldn’t keep spending so recklessly. I chose a smaller spell.

“Cauterization.”

**The Healer has cast Cauterization x 10. – 100MP.**

The tissue shriveled under the heat of the spell and the zombies grew completely still. As I stared down at the carnage, Stephanie killed her last zombie, prompting the end of the battle.

** Stephanie the Lovely Barbarian is credited with 8 zombie monster kills, awarded 600XP and +8 fame. Alton the Great Evil Wizard is credited for the assist and is awarded 200XP and +2 fame. You receive 8XP as a party member.

The Healer is credited with 10 zombie monster kills, awarded 800XP and +10 fame. Alton the Great Evil Wizard, and Winter the Shopkeeper are credited for the assist and awarded 100 XP and +1 fame each. **

“AWESOME!” Stephanie ran over and hugged me, ignoring my grimace as I realized how badly she smelled after close combat with rotting corpses. “We’re the best team ever! Did you see how fast we took out high level zombies?”

“Strong work everyone!” Alton seemed pleased, “A few more fights, and I think we could get a good rhythm going.”

“Here.” Winter held out a mana recovery potion to me. “Those were high level healer spells you cast today. You probably need this.”

After a brief hesitation I took it. “You recognize Healer spells?”

“Of course.” He spoke sincerely, adding. “It’s the greatest achievement one can have, to take such a path. I’m happy to help you.”

“…Thanks.” I drank the potion.

The Healer has used Potion of Mana Recovery, +800MP. 2 remaining in Inventory.

Stephanie stood in front of me, clasping her hands together with a pleading expression. “So… can we keep him? You said we could consider it after a trial!”

Alton and I exchanged glances. I still felt uneasy about having an “NPC” on our team. For all the time I had known Winter, I still did not understand his true motivations. Why was he in this world with us? Why join our team? And the real question that haunted me:

Why did he help me a year ago when he had no incentive to do so?

But the truth was, he was our best option.

I nodded to Alton, who immediately offered his hand to Winter.

“Welcome to the team.”

**Winter the Shopkeeper has accepted your invitation to join your party! He will have access to shared inventory, and his stats will become visible upon medical scan.**

The usual joining party message popped up, along with something unexpected:

** NOTICE - Due to status of new party member, special restrictions will apply to any stat or data sharing.**

Special restrictions? I shook my head. Not helping with my paranoia about trusting him on our team.

Stephanie cheered as I shook his hand after Alton. Finally, once things had calmed down, we all sat down to regroup.

“What next?” Stephanie asked, grabbing jerky from her pack.

I thought over her question. “The Hero’s party is going to attack the gate in 3 days. We should plan to be there.”

“Oh joy, them again.” Stephanie bit angrily into the jerky, as if hurting the people who annoyed her. "I can hardly contain my excitement."

“Fighting monsters, AND making sure the Hero’s party won’t stab us in the back at the same time?” Alton grinned. “Sounds like a party to me!"

I sighed, and grabbed my own food from my bag.

We had 3 days to get ready.

#writing #part 3 #healer #fantasy #violence #magic #video game like world #betrayal

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tw1l1te · 14 hours

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Request! I put in this request before but I did it whilst I had really shit WiFi so I don't know if it ever sent! If it did please ignore this as I'm sure you're busy with you're two amazing series! 🤧🙏 I also may request future ones like this of realisations for the other members of the chain

The chain ends up on Skyloft! Whilst here, the chain goes their own ways to explore but reader sticks with Sky since he promised they'd meet Crimson! Upon meeting the bird and giving the big bird some lovin, a feather drops..reader picks it up and compares it to their hair..Sky seems to suddenly realise some feelings..and possessive ones at that. They will be mine.

Thank you for all of you're amazing writing recently! 💖

- Anon🐉

AAA WHY DIDN'T THIS SHOW UP IN MY INBOX-

ahem. Anyways-

"Sky, look!! Is this supposed to happen with Loftwings?" you ask, holding the red feather delicately in your palm.

Sky's gaze flickered from you to the feather, the bright red feather seemingly brightening your already perfect features. You didn't pluck the feather, no, so surely this was on purpose...?

Was is meant to fall...?

"Didn't you say something about Hylians in this era wearing feathers from their Loftwings as jewelry?" you ask, tilting your head slightly while looking at him.

He did recall the conversation, blushing slightly at the implication of you wearing his Loftwing's feather. You didn't know its ceremonial symbolism, though... perhaps that would work in his favor.

"Would you... like me to make you something? A pendant or an earring, perhaps? Whatever you'd like." he offered, scratching the back of his head lightly. A nervous habit of his.

Nodding, you hand him the feather, eagerly grinning at him.

By the gods, you were cute.

Within days, he had whittled a dainty earring for you, taking extreme care and delicateness to create the perfect piece for you. A piece you'd never want to take off, ever.

You almost immediately slip the earring in your right lobe, fastening the clasp so the earring is locked in place.

"Oh Sky, I love it!! It's perfect!!"

He smiles sweetly at you, gazing into your eyes.

"I'm so glad you love it. If Crimson drops another feather, why don't you give it to me and I'll make us a matching set?"

You gasp in excitement, already enthralled with the idea of matching with your hero.

"That's perfect Sky!! Thank you, Birdie~"

He chuckles under his breath, following behind you as you skipped slightly aahead of him, bright red feather billowing with your form in the wind.

The feather earring was a symbol of your tie with him, forever bonded. An idea he would relish in for eternity. For his goddess.

It was a shame he didn't tell you the entire truth.

Maybe one day.

#linked universe x reader #linked universe au #twilite answers #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader

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philsmeatylegss · 16 hours

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Can I talk about Cat King because no one else will???

I haven’t finished the show yet so this might be wrong or age like milk

I could talk about his role in the story for hours. Tbh I overly identify with Edwin because I’m gay with a lot of problems in the past and Edwin’s historical typical internalized homophobia already makes a history nerd like me giddy with glee. And Cat King easily can be written off as a gag character, which I do think is part of his purpose, but he also represents the aspect of this story regarding Edwin’s sexuality not solely being sexual, but also still being sexual. As in obviously Edwin sexually fantasizes about men, but there’s much more than just that. That implication, acknowledging the fact, feeling free to tell Charles and the others, acting on that, just day to day life. Edwin had gotten by for thirty years ignoring his sexuality until cat king came along. Edwin acknowledging his sexuality, acting on it, and discussing it (in his own way) is a large part of his character growth which is fully pushed on because of Cat King. I know he’s supposed to be the bad guy, but I genuinely believe he is an anti hero or something along those lines. I think at first it was to just tease Edwin, but it grew into something deeper.

Don’t even get me started on the cuff. It is SO symbolic I could almost cry. It’s a physical representation of how limiting and claustrophobic it is to be in the closet. Specially not being out of the closet to close loved ones. You couldn’t have a closer relationship than the relationship between Edwin and Charles, but it doesn’t seem that way before Edwin comes out. And that’s multiple reasons on both of their parts, but part of it is that complete shut down to that side of himself. People don’t realize how much sexuality plays into day to day life. And Cat King made Edwin realize how much he’s missed out on. And also that he can’t put off his problems forever. Slay relatable.

I think the addition of Crystal and Niko also makes Edwin realize that he needs to at least recognize his sexuality. I think they help him realize how much he is missing out on by not being himself in general, nevertheless outing his sexuality.

And all of this goes back to the cat king!!! It drives me insane no one talks about it!!! There’s also the aspect that, on the surface, cat king is just supposed to represent lust. The difference between his feelings for Monty or Charles is that there’s emotions there while cat king is purely lust and a giggle. But when you think about the story, that’s just not true. When media deals with a character’s sexuality not being straight, it’s usually over sexualized or not acknowledged as anything sexual. Cat king gives that balance to his feelings for Charles. Because being gay is partly explicit. As is being straight, bi, pan, whatever (other than asexuality). Saying you are ___ sexuality is implying that you are sexually aroused by whatever gender(s). And cat king is that reminder while Charles and Monty are the reminder that love and relationships are also part of it. Cat king adds balance that makes Edwin’s character feel way more authentic and actually gay.

I haven’t even gotten to cat king pushing for Edwin to admit why he solves cases. WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT IT?!?! I was gnawing at the bars of my enclosure during that scene. It is arguably one of the most important scenes of the entire show. And it’s entirely brought on my cat king. Every single time Edwin either decides or is forced to reveal something vulnerable about himself, it’s Cat King!!!! Edwin’s confession that it is about preparing a justification as to how he should be allowed into heaven even though he is gay is such an insanely important moment and I’m gnawing at my enclosure again!!!

I may be studying history, but I’ve always been an English kid at heart and symbolism about religion and childhood trauma brings me to my knees. And Cat King is scratching an itch I’ve had for years that I had no clue was there anD NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT IT WHILE IT IS DRIVING ME BANANAS.

Anyway, that’s my case for talking about cat king. I just finished episode 4 and it’s gonna be really embarrassing when something happens the next few episodes that completely invalidates all of this

#this is me doing a quick summary about my feelings btw #rae’s rambles #dead boy detectives

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cemeteryangel725 · 1 day

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Reviewing the Armies: A Good Omens Civil War AU by CemeteryAngel725

Thank you so much to @shipper-of-all-things for helping with the cover image!

Rated E, 5,573 words

3rd installment of the Coming into Focus series

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

It is May of 1865 and the war is over, or nearly over. Aziraphale has relocated to Washington, DC, and he is counting down the hours until he can be reunited with Anthony. When they meet again, sparks fly.

Excerpt:

Time to prepare. Aziraphale reached for a glass plate, his hands trembling. Oh, it wouldn’t do to drop a plate at all. They were so fragile, and there was so much room for error in the process. Aziraphale had heard a rumor that Alexander Gardner had broken his last photographic negative of President Lincoln — had cracked it while pouring the developer and had thrown the plate away after pulling just a single print, not knowing the significance of what he had. Yes, best be careful.

Somehow, Aziraphale managed to pour the collodion steadily, his years of experience coming to his rescue. He handed the plate to Adam and prepared another, just in case his timing was off. Then it was time to wait, watching the minutes tick by on his watch as the soldiers streamed by on the street. Aziraphale crossed his arms, holding his elbows to steady himself.

There. Oh, there.

Anthony was riding alongside his regiment on a glossy black stallion, his scarlet curls peeking out from under his kepi and catching the sunlight, a burst of fire in a sea of blue uniforms. His back was straight and his shoulders thrown back, looking every inch the conquering hero. Aziraphale’s heart swelled. All these months of worry, praying for Anthony’s return, imagining the worst, keeping every perfect memory as a talisman in his heart. And here Anthony was, safe and strong and gloriously whole, right before Aziraphale’s eyes.

All the love to the denizens of @goodomensafterdark!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens fic recs #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #writers of after dark #good omens smut #american civil war

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sorceresssundries · 1 day

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A Scandal In Sorcery

Chapter 2 - The Dance

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav

Summary: A Regency era/Baldur’s Gate crossover. Set in an Alternate Universe, containing familiar faces and key events in new light.

It is, predominantly, a love-story which will contain explicit content as the slow-burning bond between Gale and Tav deepens.

Chapter 1 here

(This is also published on AO3)

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This story is set in an Alternate Universe. Though there may be echoes of sound and flickers of light from a well-loved place, please bear in mind this is a new path in a familiar forest. Take comfort in the familiarity and care into the unknown. Some things are destined to come together in every universe, just as others are doomed to fall apart.

Gale Dekarios wasn’t sure what it was exactly that drew her to him. Whether it was her sullen demeanour, unconventional beauty or the fact strands of weave shimmered around her like cracked light through crystal.

He had sensed her almost immediately as he had entered the ballroom, felt the air spark as though she was an approaching storm. His gaze drifted her way, and as soon as he met her eyes he was spellstruck. Her skin, warm and tanned, adorned with freckles, bore a delicate pink blush across the bridge of her nose and the high points of her cheekbones —a complexion undoubtedly caused by a day in the company of the sun. While the majority of women in the room adorned themselves in the season’s satin, empire-waisted gowns, she stood out in corseted robes of navy and gold, sculpted to accentuate her curves and flowing gracefully to the floor. They were daringly slit on each side to reveal laced-up boots over fitted breeches. There had obviously been an attempt to tame her hair for the occasion, but loose black curls were making a desperate escape from the tight coil they had been imprisoned in. Amidst the tamed field of the other guests, she was a wildflower. A cherry blossom in a forest of pine, and he was determined to delight in the shade of her if only for a few moments. Perhaps being coerced into this charade wouldn’t be as unbearable as he had initially feared.

He managed to interrupt his companion from flirting for a few seconds to enquire about her. “Mr. Ancunin, who is that over there hiding away in the dark corner?” The silver haired man winked at the young lord he was talking to, before turning to flash a disarming, pointed smile.

“Ah, that is young Duke Ravengard. Heart of gold, morals of a white knight, blade of a hero.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, as though this disappointed him. “Shame really, he is handsome, but frightfully boring.”

“Not him, the woman he is speaking with.”

"Ha, Ostavia Olyn, now she is a much more intriguing character. Rumour has it her family is penniless, and her father is treating her like a prized mare at auction, but hush, you didn't hear it from me," he chuckled, a hint of cruelty in his laughter. "She's a firecracker, to say the least, but I'd advise caution if I were you. I hear someone has their eye on her." Before Mr. Dekarios could press further on the matter of her admirers, the silver-tongued Mr. Ancunin had already drifted back into conversation, and the host of the evening had begun his speech. As Lord Gortash talked, Gale began delicately moving through the enraptured crowd, determined to get as close to her as possible in the hope of asking for a dance.

Despite accepting his hand, her temper still sizzled. He couldn't quite fathom what had ignited her ire, but he couldn't deny the allure of a stoked fire over a tepid rain shower any day. Intrigued, he found himself eager to uncover more about her.

Gale had been a popular hand at the Blackstaff Ball back in his days as an apprentice. Admittedly, his time away from the material plane and with his Goddess had not allowed much room for practising his steps but he found it was an easy rhythm to fall back into, especially with such an enchanting partner.

Tav, on the other hand, was less practiced, less graceful, and far less enchanted. It took a few delicate moments for her to find her feet. He was more respectful than some of the other partners who had dared take a turn with her. His hand on her waist was courteous, yet there was a firmness to his grip that guided her with confidence, preventing her feet from stumbling - though it did little to steady her breath. In the proximity of their dance, she caught the scent of him—sandalwood and parchment - He smelled like crisp autumn.

“Are you managing to enjoy the evening from your hideaway?” He asked politely.

At his attempt at small talk, Tav steeled herself for another dull turn with a dull partner. The politeness and reservedness of it all was suffocating. She felt restricted and bound - constantly stuffed into conversations two sizes too small. She was sick of it all. She wanted her hair down, she wanted to smile with her teeth and laugh from her belly. She wanted to sprint corsetless through warm summer rain and spin magic from her fingers like she was born to do.

She often felt these long evenings of repression were unproductive for someone alive with magic. She should be spending her time with her gift settled on the surface of her skin, and soaking in the cool freshness of it. Instead, she felt like it was a caged, prowling animal she was destined to tame but never master. If only she had the freedom she craved, the pure, eternal, bright freedom of someone like Gale Dekarios. He had everything she wanted, and yet here he was letting himself be paraded around like a prized possession. He infuriated her, but she supposed she would have to indulge him for now, if only for one dance.

“Very much so Saer, I find it gives me a perfect vantage point to observe the events of the evening.” She tried very hard to keep the bite out of her voice, but sharp teeth are tricky to file down.

“And what have you discovered from your vantage point, oh mysterious spy?” His tone was refreshingly playful, and something flickered in her chest and in her smile.

“If I told you, I wouldn’t be a very good spy would I?”

Gale Dekarios realised he was very quickly dabbling with trouble in the crackling presence of this wildfire woman. “Wizards don’t make for good spies, I don’t think we are built for all that sneaking. Let’s leave that to the rogues and scoundrels shall we?” His observation surprised her, perhaps he was more attentive than she gave him credit for.

“What makes you think I am a wizard, Saer? Do I display their famous arrogance? I was not aware I had conjured any magic tricks this evening.” His response to her indignation was a smile which could brighten the darkest midnight. She continued, starting to feel a little unsteady. “If you are expecting a show, I’m afraid I must leave you disappointed.”

"Well, for a start, you've opted for robes instead of a dress," Gale remarked, his gaze tracing the contours of her attire with a knowing gleam in his eyes. "And secondly, you're a flame around which the weave flutters like a helpless moth." There was a charged pause, his thumb delicately brushing against her wrist as they moved in tandem. "You seem to evoke a similar reaction in those attuned to it" He slowed their dance, and his eyes fluttered to her lips. “You are most intriguing…”

She tried not to meet his eyes again, in fear she would fall into them and not be able to find her way out. So, instead she tried to distract herself with a turn in the conversation.

“Your date is watching us very intently, Saer. I hope I am not interrupting anything.”

Gale snapped out of his trance, momentarily confused. However, as he spun her gracefully across the floor, he realised she was referring to Mr. Ancunin, who indeed had fixed his stare upon them with an unreadable expression on his face.

“How kind of you to show concern, my lady.” She didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “But he is not my date, he is my… escort.” Tav’s expression must have given her surprise away, as he quickly stumbled up with “I mean.. He has escorted me here from Waterdeep, under instruction of Lord Gortash.” She can feel his shoulder tense slightly under her hand as he mentions their host. How unusual, she thinks, why on earth could the presence of this chosen one be so important to this particular evening?

“Surely the chosen of a Goddess doesn’t need someone to hold their hand and guide them to our modest little gathering”

He chuckled and she felt her cheeks flush, as though somewhere there’s a joke she’s missed the punchline to.

“It wasn’t a travel issue my lady, I can assure you my navigation skills are incomparable.” She risked a glance at him then, and her fears were confirmed. His eyes were so warm and dark that the sparkling candlelight came to life within them. She found herself momentarily lost, before mentally shaking herself free from his hypnotic gaze.

She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she thought she was suddenly a little closer to him than before.

“Mr. Ancunin is a senior magistrate and dear friend of Lord Gortash. He was very clear with his.. focused...message that I was to attend here this evening.” His tone darkened slightly, and for a second he appeared lost in thought. “Upon our introduction he delighted me in conversation about his influence within the justice system, and let me know I need not bother him with smalltalk about my upbringing or connections. He knows everything about me and my inner circle, apparently.” His eyes met hers again, his meaning heavy.

Tav couldn't help but admire the audacity of threatening the prized possession of Mystra in such a brazen manner. Yet, she swiftly dismissed the thought. The political machinations and power plays of politicians and playthings held little interest for her. She was on the cusp of freedom from this city, and once she ascended to the rank of archmage, she vowed not to be coerced into attending such meaningless social gatherings ever again.

Her gaze once more met Mr. Ancunin's, noting his demeanour did befit that of a magistrate. However, her learnings had taught her to view most in such positions as nothing more than corrupt bloodsuckers. A shiver of distaste ran down her spine, earning a laugh from Gale.

"You have no talent for hiding your feelings, Miss Olyn," he remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Tav's lips curled into a wry smile, her gaze unflinching as she met his. "My talents are unknown to you, Mr. Dekarios, and that is how they shall remain." Here, in his arms, unfurling the bright petals of her wit, she felt herself bloom slightly—a bud with a taste of sunlight. "Maybe I am a woman who likes to make her feelings known."

His arm moved slightly further around her waist, and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "One certainly hopes so."

He was so close now she could feel his breath against her cheek, one hand pressed against her back and the other softly clutching hers as they moved. Her temper had dimmed, she had noticed, and just as she found herself truly relishing the sensation of being in his arms, the music came to an end, abruptly breaking the spell they had cast together.

There was a brief moment in the dip of the music, just before he let her go, which he let himself sink into. Only for a burning second. The sensation of her small hand in his, the gentle curve of her waist beneath his touch, and the scent of vanilla, how warmth sang from her skin as though her day basking outside had dazzled her into the sun itself. He wondered how that warmth would taste against his lips…

She stepped back and bowed quickly, formally, now acutely aware of the whispers breezing around them. They had become the focus of the party. It was a position Tav had always been determined to avoid, yet here they were, at the centre of it all. Amidst the murmuring crowd, she caught sight of her father near one of the bowls of punch, appearing uncharacteristically flustered and oddly alone. It struck her as peculiar.

Gale was about to inquire if she would like to share another dance with him when a figure interrupted.

"May I cut in? I would be honoured if you would grace me with the next dance," the voice came, clipped but courteous. Tav felt a rush of relief as Wyll stood by her, offering her some friendly comfort on the dance floor. However, as she turned back from assessing her father's odd countenance, she realised Wyll was not addressing her, but rather Mr. Dekarios. Wyll was glaring at him as though trying to set him alight, but the wizard seemed unperturbed.

He bowed at the invitation. “Of course my lord, how could I turn down such a genteel invitation.” Tav once again felt out of the loop, but despite the strange tension, she felt grateful for an opportunity to step out of the limelight and talk to her father.

He became even more nervous as Tav approached him.

“Father. I am surprised at you!” Tav mocked. “It is unusual for you to give up so quickly. Have you finally run out of suitors to harass, or are you just gathering back your strength for another round of negotiations?” Her mood had once again soured.

“Ostavia…” his voice was a tired plea.

“I tell you what, how about I do a lap of the room ringing a bell and sending up sparks to draw some extra attention?”

“Tav, please… we must speak privately, there is someth…” He was speaking in a hushed tone, and Tav was becoming more and more irritable. What a dream it would be for one to be able to express their thoughts openly and at a normal volume.

“Let us speak privately at home father, Leyana will be desperate to hear all about the evening, and what kind of a sister would I be if I deprived her of such fascinating tales. I am tired and this silly circus of a party is of no use to us.”

"Silly? Oh, I don’t know. I've found the evening rather... eventful," a low, amused voice chimed in from behind Tav, causing her to whirl around. There, standing before her, was Lord Gortash. Handsome in a different way from Mr. Dekarios, he exuded a certain invitation, like a dark path veering away from busy, lamplit streets—enticing, alluring, and perhaps dangerous. Up close, he appeared more pallid, with shadows under his eyes making him appear slightly haunted. His features were undeniably strong, his eyes so dark they were almost black. However, unlike the warmth she had felt with her dance partner, these eyes held a colder, more baleful gaze. They were focused, attentive, and fixated on her.

“My apologies, my lord.” Tav gave a slight bow of her head, she ought to be embarrassed but she was having such an awful time she was past caring. Perhaps if she came across as rude to their host she would be excluded from all social events, or perhaps she just didn’t feel like being polite to any more men this evening.

"You are forgiven, dear lady," he smiled warmly. "I see you've been enjoying the company of some esteemed individuals. Tell me, what is your impression of Mr. Dekarios?" At his mention, Tav turned to see him still immersed in dance with her friend. Wyll led, both in steps and conversation, his expression bearing an uncharacteristic sternness. Whatever they were discussing didn’t look particularly agreeable.

"The legend of his magical ability certainly travels," Gortash continued before she could answer, his tone deliberate, almost intimate. "He must be absolutely fascinating for one such as yourself who is also... gifted."

At the last word, Tav's eyes whipped back to him, stunned into silence. What did this man know of her gifts? Perhaps he had heard of her prowess during her studies? But she couldn’t fathom why someone like her would be on the radar of someone so deeply entrenched in politics.

He chuckled at her. “Don’t be alarmed, my dear. Your father and I have been deep in conversation and I've been keeping a close eye on you for some time. He has much to be proud of, to have not one but two daughters gifted with such powerful sorcery.”

Tav flicked her eyes toward her father, who couldn't meet her gaze, and a wave of panic surged through her. What had he done? What had he let slip?

She summoned every ounce of composure, striving to calm her racing heart and settle her tumultuous thoughts into still waters. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Saer,” she replied, forcing a serene smile. “My sister is no sorceress; she was not blessed with…”

He laughed again, each peal a shard of ice down her spine. “She does you proud, Yondrel. Sharp as a whip and as pretty as a night orchid.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Tav’s father offered with frustrating meekness.

“Do not fear. The secret of your sister’s condition and family standing is safe with me. I promise you that,” Gortash assured, and for a moment, the veil of threat lifted, replaced by something resembling sincerity, though Tav couldn't be certain if it was genuine or merely a flicker of hope in darkness. “Do not be angry with your father, dearest. It wasn't him who told me of your sister’s troubles.”

Dearest? Who was this man to call her dearest? To bring up family secrets and slip them sharp between her ribs like a rogue in an alleyway. Tav could feel her skin crackle with anger and indignation at the gall this arrogant, jumped up…

“It was Grand Duke Ravengard. His son is a close friend of yours, yes? I’m afraid there’s no such thing as family secrets in such a close-knit, generous community such as ours. I have many friends, in many positions.” He took a step closer to her, and she could not move, her feet were made of lead. “Besides, the two of us should have no secrets between us.”

Tav did not like where this was going, she felt out of her depth and did not want to continue the conversation until she had whetted her courage and supplied some well-needed ammo to her arsenal, or at least some decent armour to protect from the concurrent blows. She did not enjoy feeling like she was on the back-foot.

“If you would excuse me, Lord Gortash, I thank you for your hospitality but my father and I were just leaving.” She bowed low and went to turn away as politely as possible, but was stopped by Gortash’s hand placed softly in the crook of her arm.

“Such formality, my dear. I can assure you, it is not needed.” He leant forward and grasped one of her hands in between his.

“Not now we’re to be husband and wife.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale x female tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale fanfic #regency era gale

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todomitoukei · 2 days

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Bnha Season 7 Interview: Shimono Hiro (Dabi) and Uchiyama Koki (Shigaraki)

Animate Times released an interview with the Japanese voice actors for Dabi (Shimono Hiro) and Shigaraki (Uchiyama Koki) to talk about season 7, which will begin to release in May.

Below is a quick translation of the interview, where they reflect on their characters' developments, season 6 and talk a bit about the upcoming season.

Q = Question UK = Uchiyama Koki (Shigarki’s VA) SH = Shimono Hiro (Dabi’s VA)

Q: Looking back to season 6, what are some of the most memorable scenes?

UK: Season 6…

SH: There were too many. For me, it’s definitely "Dabi’s Dance" (ep. 124). It was really painful that I couldn't say anything until then! It was the moment when I could finally let it out. Just as Touya was training at Sekoto Peak over and over again, I read the original story many times. Various things happened in season 6, but I think "Dabi’s Dance" is the best.

Q: What was the recording process like at that time?

SH: I recorded it together with Inada Tetsu (Endeavor) and Kaji Yuki (Shouto). More than anything, I was looking forward to the fight scene with Endeavor and Shouto in “Dabi’s Dance”, so I approached the recording with the feeling that regardless of the order or how many times I had to perform the sequence of events, I would do it. So when the recording was over I thought “It’s already over? Are we only recording this 2-3 times?” I always felt restricted when playing Dabi and wasn’t sure how to play him. He’s not the loud type and even though I don’t know what he’s thinking, but he says things that seem to make sense (laughs).

Q: You were exploding with feelings in “Dabi’s Dance”, right?

SH: I enjoyed that confession. And I think he had to block those complex feelings inside of him, so now he can only think of throwing everything inside of him against his father.

UK: Yeah.

SH: To me, because Dabi has died once before, he doesn’t think about continuing to live or what happens after he reaches his goal. That is why he goes by “Dabi”. That is why he can do nothing but think about throwing his entire strength, body, and soul at this.

Q: So there are no changes in performances in season 7?

SH: No. I’m glad we’re able to produce various things.

Q: Aside from “Dabi’s Dance”, “The Wrong Way to Put Out a Fire” (ep. 130) is also quite memorable.

SH: When I read the manga, I came to understand “so this was the reason”. Aside from Dabi, the LOV members each have their personal story. To me, a feeling of “Aren’t we (the villains) right? Aren't they righteous?” developed when I saw that.

Q: Surely, when I watched the villains’ stories, that much conviction was conveyed.

SH: It holds a different weight, doesn’t it? That is to say, I wonder with what kind of feeling towards us the heroes will arrive at the final battle. At the current stage, the villain’s feelings are stronger and they are fairly strong, too. We are sure to win (laughs).

Q: Uchiyama, do you also think you will defeat the heroes?

UK: Of course, that has been my intention since my first appearance. I think some of the viewers and readers don’t think well of me because of my position as villain, but I play my characters with the thought that the characters act based on their beliefs.

Q: Uchiyama, how do you feel looking back on season 6?

UK: When I read the manga, I was impressed by the development of Shigaraki being taken over by All For One. At the same time, I wondered how it would be portrayed in the anime. There was one scene where I had to put my voice on top of Otsuka Akio (All For One). That was a difficult part to perform, so that left a big impression on me.

Q: What was the recording like?

UK: Otsuka recorded it first, so I listened and traced the recording at home. When I heard his recording, I felt the strength of the material and the way of his inflection was unique. I remember hearing his voice over and over again.

Q: Once again, what is your impression of each other’s character?

UK: When he first appeared, I wondered whether Dabi would become our friend [TL note: the word he used is nakama, which can be translated as companion, friend, partner, etc.] from now on, he was a constant mystery. While I had a feeling that many things would be revealed after that, I still had a feeling that he was mysterious.

Q: When he first appeared (in the anime) his true identity still hadn’t been revealed in the manga yet.

SH: As the performer, I would’ve liked to be told, because I also kept thinking he is such a mystery (laughs).

UK: That’s right. He was also allowed to move fairly freely within the LOV, so he would suddenly disappear and whatnot. I also found that to be very mysterious.

Q: Being allowed to move freely might mean that Shigaraki trusts him to a certain degree, right?

UK: I wonder. The members of the LOV, especially during the early days, didn’t match friendship or bonding at all. So it’s hard to tell whether there was a feeling of trust.

SH: Rather than a relationship of trust, it’s more a correspondence of interests. While there are people that try to accomplish something with everyone, there are also people like Dabi. I think that freedom is the good thing about the LOV.

Q: Shimono, what is Shigaraki like from your point of view?

SH: It might just be my own personal impression, but I think that before fusing with All For One, Shigaraki was a little cuter [TL note: the word here is used kawairashisa, which is slightly different from kawaii in that it’s a bit more objective. A cuteness that everyone can see rather than being based on one’s feelings].

UK: Well, certainly in the early stages he seemed more juvenile.

SH: That’s right. While there was a time when he was childish and cute when talking to Dabi, he isn’t cute [TL note: here he just uses the negative form of kawaii lol] at all anymore (laughs).

Q: laughs

UK: He has ended up becoming a properly adult man.

SH: Adult man (laughs). But he has someone transcended, hasn’t he? Dabi has for the most part too, but……….

UK: It’s because Shigaraki lived despite being met with Prominence Burn.

SH: Right, right. That’s how strong his attachment to what he himself wants to accomplish must be.

Q: Has there been any change in your performance during the series?

UK: Because the series has been continuing for a long time, while continuing with the impression of the characters up until now, changes get added alongside the story. As Shimono mentioned before, the inside of the characters changed and during important parts so did their appearance, so I changed my acting accordingly. I am now quite aware of his strength due to his strong physique. In the early days, I was also very aware of his juvenility, so the way I voice him and all is different now.

SH: I have been accumulating things until season 6 and thought about how to get them out. When that time finally came, I had a lot of fun. I thought: “I can finally talk a lot!” All the more because as a voice actor, I had to continue not to talk or raise the excitement. I think there will be more suffering and pain now. I myself try not to fall behind on taking care of my throat.

Q: What are some things to look out for in season 7?

UK: I think the battle with Star and Stripe in the early parts is a highlight. Shigaraki is struggling against his opponent Star and Stripe, so his ego is still being shaken. It was a challenge for me to portray the new character from the fusion of Shigaraki and All For One, but it was tough since the battle began at full throttle.

Q: The battle with Star and Stripes looks even more animated than before, doesn’t it.

UK: The battle was very interesting in the manga, so I was very surprised by how they animated it. I want you to look forward to watching it, because from the animation to the character of Star and Stripe herself, there are many strong highlights.

Q: What about you, Shimono?

SH: After “Dabi’s Dance” we learn that Dabi = the oldest son of the Todoroki family, and now he has to fight his dad and little brother again. We’re about to reach the final battle, and when I read the manga I was overcome with many feelings. But I thought that if I’m concerned about that, I might not be able to play Dabi. Even if I had to break my throat, in any case I was ready to give it my all.

Q: I am looking forward to what kind of feelings Shouto will hold during this.

SH: When everyone, including Dabi, felt hopeless, only Shouto hadn’t lost his hope. Now, Shouto is trying to defeat Dabi with his own determination and honest feelings, so I want you to pay attention to the relationship between Dabi and Shouto.

Q: I think there will be changed on the villain side during season 7?

SH: There are again characters whose backgrounds are being shown.

UK: I think I can show even more strength as Shigaraki.

SH: The villains have the upper hand to begin with, so I wonder what kind of resolution will be drawn from here on.

UK: They are superior, aren’t they?

SH: What will the story of each of their battles be, like the one between Dabi, Endeavor and Shouto? I want you to pay attention to things like the clash of feelings.

Q: How do you feel about seeing the heroes outnumbered?

UK: The hero side is crumbling, isn’t it?

Everyone: (laughs)

UK: It’s a situation where you can’t see the light. Since it’s also shown that each country is reluctant to send their heroes to Japan, because protecting their own countries is important, I think that aspect also conveys that Japan is in a very difficult situation. Rather, the hero side has no more cards to play.

SH: It sure is falling apart, isn’t it?

UK: It’s already a certain victory (laughs).

#interview #japanese #translation #bnha #s7 #dabi #shigaraki #lov #they just get it #i knew shimono would have an absolute blast with that reveal scene and everything that follows lmao #but also please dont hurt your throat #Todoroki #Lov #League of villains

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tonyboneysblog · 2 days

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MOTHER HEN

parings: hawks x mother!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none!

notes: y/n is mothering, plus she’s doesn’t have a ring on it.😉

summary: you, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! who has caught the eye of a certain pro.

Your son was loved, he knew it.

You loved him with your whole being, you used to have big dreams. Then your only dream was him.

You had him when you were 16, your boyfriend at the time left immediately when he found out. He didn’t wanna love him.

But you, you love your beautiful boy.

Your son sometimes complains on how he wished he had your quirk instead of his father’s. You always told him, “wings aren’t that cool anyways.”

you’d stop flying forever if it meant he was happy.

Then one day, when he was 13, he came to you with a ‘confession’, that’s how he put it.

He told you he wanted to be a hero and go to U.A., you were worried but, they have to leave the nest one day, won’t they?

“I’ll see you later, mother” he says darkly.

“Fumi, you say that as if you’re never coming back….” you laugh softly, “stop being so serious and give you mama a hug.”

He looks down embarrassed slightly, “are you serious…”

“Fumikage, hug your mother.” You give him a faked serious look.

He laughs softly whilst shaking his head, stepping forward into your arms. You hug tighter, tearing up.

“g-go on, you’ll be late.” you say while sniffling.

He smiles, and walks out the door.

your terrified.

You hear story’s about hero’s dying gruesomely all the time, some don’t make it to 20.

your Fumikage is smart though, he’ll blow everyone away some day.

Then a few weeks after, the letter from U.A. came.

Fumikage took it a shut his door, you pace around the kitchen, and slightly consider rearranging your closet….

Until you hear the door open.

“Fumi?” you say slowly and quietly, afraid of the results.

He sighs, “I made it.”

you burst with joy and tackle him to the ground, your wings fluttering softly, you giggled and laughed.

“Aha! Fumi, I knew you would make it sweetie!” You kiss all over his face.

He smiles brightly, and hugs you back.

“Ah, my baby bird! W-we need to celebrate I need to post all about this on instabook!” You say excitedly whiling hopping off of your son, pacing around the apartment.

“M-mama, calm down you have work tonight, remember?” He says calmly.

Ah, yes. Work. truly a terrible thing working 9-5 at a hospital (usually even longer), always kept you away from your sweet boy.

You sigh, “yea, I remember…I’ll make it up to you yami, promise.”

He smiles, “it’s okay mama…I understand.”

He may have looked like his father but, he was nothing like him.

A few hours later Tokoyami is asleep while you get ready for work, they had called you in much earlier than you expected- some hero got it bad in a fight.

You kiss Fumikage temples, then lock up the house, to make your way to work.

Hospital was always hectic, no breaks- unless it was lunch…you barely got to eat anyways.

You walk in, check in, then go on to where the injured hero is.

Apparently it’s some higher ranking one so everyone has to be “on their best behavior”

You walk into the room, red feathers are everywhere- they look quite…dull.

“Ms. Tokoyami! Thank the heavens your here.” Your co-worker, Emi, says.”

“Well I was called in so-“

“So basically all you need to do is just keep a check on his vitals okay?- I’m gonna go take lunch, cya!” Emi runs out the room before you protest, so you just sigh.

You take a seat next to him, grabbing the clip board on the bedside.

Everything looks good- except the name.

It was fake obviously, just said “hawks” so not a lot of information. There’s no emergency contact either.

You yawn, this is probably the calmest it’ll be all day. You ought to enjoy it-

“hi..” says a weak voice.

You jump slightly, “o-oh, hi?”

“are you the uh…nurse?”

“Yep.”

“I am good?”

“erm…I suppose so- your heads kinda busted up thought..and your wings.”

“Best bird quirk you’ve ever seen right?” He said quietly but confident.

“no, I like my sons better.”

“Nah, I’m the pro.” He replies with a cough.

“Actually he just got accepted into U.A….”

“Good for him! what’s his name, maybe I’ll pick him up at my agency sometime?”

you sigh, “you need to rest before you start thinking about the future…”

You looks at your name card “tokoyami?”

“Listen, little detective, you need to rest…people want you o back on the street as quick as possible.”

“Do you even know who I am?”

“No….?”

“I’m number 3, in the hero polls?” He says curiously.

“I uh, don’t keep up with those actually…only Fumikage likes thoses…” you say embarrassed.

The hero named Hawks only hums.

“So..” he starts, “Fumikage Tokoyami is his name?”

“oh please- go to bed already!” you say.

He laughs, then just closes his eyes.

“That sounds like a great idea, don’t get much sleep anyways…” the hero says sleepily.

he reminds you of Fumi, only a small bit though…it’s probably just the avian features.

After hours, you finally get the opportunity to go home at 8:00. You walk into your apartment exhausted, Fumikage is laying on the couch- watching some cult classic he talked to you about, he looks back to see you.

“Hi sweetie…” you say tiredly, you take off your bag and make your way to the bathroom, a shower would be nice, did Fumi eat, was he bored without you, is he worried about starting school?

Fumikage breaks you from your thoughts, “mom, You okay…?”

“‘Jus’fine Fumi….” You squeak out.

He stands up to help you to the couch, it wasn’t your goal but your body is begging for sleep.

“Did’ja have a good day sweets?”

He nods, “what about you mom?”

“mmmh, some pro hero came in, number three…? Forgot his name- he told me he’d pick you up once you join U.A.” you say sluggish.

“Number three…? Y-you mean hawks?”

“Is that him? sure yea..”

Fumikage justs stares at the tv, it’s not that interesting of a movie…you nod off slowly.

Fumikage cuddles up into your warmth, same as he did when he was little.

You hope he never leaves the nest.

Until he left it for U.A.

He left from the front door with many kisses and many “so proud” of you’s.

then the house was quiet.

So you went out obviously!

you needed groceries and you always did find something Fumikage liked.

The street was busier than usual, the louder the better though!

You slither through the crowds making your way to different shops, some with stronger smells than others…at the end of your adventure you had hand fulls of bags!

Your day offs weren’t ever spent “resting”, who needed rest anyways? well your feet were tired- and you did feel sleepy so the best course of action was to go home!

until, some man dressed it a hoodie with jeans far too baggy to be comfortable- snatched your bag and runs off?! You immediately release all of your bags and start chasing after him.

“H-hey get back here!” You yell, slight winded already.

But the man doesn’t stop, he goes faster actually- until, a red feather smacks him right in the face!

You stop in your tracks, well that was easy…and stroll over to the man, snatching your bag up.

“You alright miss?” Says a cheerful voice.

You whip your head around, it’s the guy from the hospital! What was his name again..?

You sigh, “thank you so much young man! I probably couldn’t have caught him with you…”

“Y-young man? You’re probably not that much older than me miss..” he chuckles.

“I’m 32.”

“oh wow…”

“Thank you?”

He blushes, “I-i meant oh wow as in you r-really don’t look it!”

“even after I watched over you at the hospital?” You tease.

“I-i quite appreciate that and- I’ll just stop talking.”

You laughed, clutching at your stomach, “I’m just joking bird boy!- anyway thank you bunches. I have to get home now, gotta fix dinner for my little chick.”

“Ah, see you soon?” He says hopeful.

“Maybe, hopefully not in a criminal context.”

You walk away with a smile and a wave, hawks heart feels warmer than it usually does.

“Mother, im Home”

You can hear Tokoyami call from the front door. You are currently cuddle up in your own bed, exhausted from the days events.

“In here, chick!”

You see your son walk into the room, he looks tired, you open your arms wide but he just sits at the end of the bed.

“How was your first day?”

“rough.”

Your heart aches for him, but you know your little edge lord! he’s being dramatic….hopefully.

“The teacher made us do all these tests and whoever got the least points would be expelled.”

Well, that’s an email for later.

“Hm, were you worried?”

“very, I didn’t know if I would do good enough.”

“But you did, didn’t cha chickadee?”

He smiles and nods, you’d do anything to protect that smile of his. It’s his father’s but that doesn’t matter, Tokoyami made it his.

Fumikage scratches his head, “You have work in the morning, you should rest.”

“Will do, you should too- don’t be up all night watching slashers please?”

He grumbles

“fine.”

He stands up and kiss your temple, “love you, mama.”

“I love you too, yami.”

He smiles again, dark shadow comes out- waiting for his own kiss. You giggle and kiss its forehead, shooing your son away.

You curl further into your bed, your nest, your safe place.

You wonder for a moment if the red winged hero had a nest too.

Wait, what was his name again?

#anime #fanfics #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #takami keigo #mha takami keigo #keigo x you #hawks x y/n #mha #spotify #takami keigo x reader #keigo x y/n #bnha keigo

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anim-ttrpgs · 2 days

Text

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, and Themes of Disability, Mental Illness, and Criminality.

Back Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy on kickstarter before May 10th if you want to help a disabled person with limited ability to work pay his bills.

Verisimilitude, What Would a Person Do?

To understand Eureka’s themes regarding disability, mental illness, and criminality, you first have to understand its verisimilitude.

“Verisimilitude” is defined as “the appearance of being true or real,” and it is a big part of the core design ethos behind Eureka. It is a very realistic game.

We aren’t necessarily of the opinion that “realism” is a better design choice than stylization overall for RPGs, but it is a better design choice for Eureka, because we want the PCs to be very normal, believable people who make believable, organic decisions in extraordinary situations. No matter what anyone says, the mechanics of a TTRPG strongly influence what kind of stories are told with it, and what characters do in those stories. So if we want characters to make realistic decisions, the world they inhabit and interact with must be constructed of realistic rules.

Even though there is a small chance that they may be a supernatural creature, PCs in Eureka are still not fearless action heroes, chosen ones, or anything of the sort. They’re normal people with jobs, friends, and families who get mixed up in mysterious and/or dangerous situations, often against their will. They are fragile, vulnerable, imperfect, and they, largely, know it.

“Composure” is a mechanic that helps you know it too. I’ve given a deeper explanation of the Composure mechanic in the post linked here, but I’ll give a very very very condensed version in this post. Composure can sort of be thought of as “emotional/fatigue HP,” (and no, it is NOT “sanity”) it acts as a guideline for how well your character is handling the situation, and when it gets low enough, it starts to have serious mechanical effects as well, because a character’s stat modifier can never be higher than their current Composure level. Fear, hunger, and fatigue all lower Composure, and eating, sleeping, and bonding with one’s fellow investigators can all restore it, at least for normal people. More on that further down. All you really need to know for now is that when Composure gets below zero it starts eating into HP, so characters can even pass out or die from loss of Composure, and also one single bullet is enough to permanently cripple a character, and the rate of Composure loss during combat reflects how serious that is for the characters.

Grievous Wounds

It isn’t too uncommon for RPGs to have some sort of “flaw” system, whereby in character creation you can give your PC “flaws” or some kind of penalty, and usually get that balanced out by being able to add extra bonuses elsewhere, and these “flaws” may take the form of disabilities.

Critical Role’s Candela Obscura, the whole document of which is one of the most egregious examples of liberalism and toxic positivity I’ve ever seen in the TTRPG space, takes this beyond just character creation, and makes it so that if a PC receives a “scar” in combat that reduces their physical stats, their mental stats automatically go up by an equivalent amount, and proudly asserts that to make any mechanic which functions otherwise is ableist. I think you can probably tell what I think of that from this sentence alone and I don’t need to elaborate. Getting bogged down in all the failures, mechanical and moral, of Candela Obscura would make this post three times as long.

I actually do think that as long as you aren’t moralizing and patting yourself on the back this hard about it, “flaw” systems in character creation are a pretty good idea in most cases, it allows for more varied options during character creation, while preserving game balance between the PCs.

But in real life, people aren’t balanced. The events that left me injured and disabled didn’t make me smarter or better at anything—if anything, they probably made me stupider, considering the severity of the concussion! Some things happened to me, and now I’m worse. There’s no upside, I just have to keep going by trying harder with a less efficient body, and rely more on others in situations where I am no longer capable of perfect self-sufficiency.

Denying that a disabled person is, by definition, less capable of doing important tasks than the average person is to deny that they need help, and to deny that they need help is to enable a refusal to help.

This is the perspective from which Eureka’s Grievous Wounds mechanic was written.

When a character is reduced to 1 HP, which by design can result from a single hit from most weapons, they may become incapacitated, or they may take a Grievous Wound, which is a permanent injury with no stat benefits. Think twice before getting into a shootout.

Grievous Wounds don’t have to result from combat, they can also be given to a character during character creation, but not as a trade-off for an extra bonus.

“But then doesn’t my character just have worse stats than the rest of the party?” Yes, didn’t you read the above section? There is no benefit, except for the opportunity to play a disabled character in an TTRPG, and this character will probably have to be more reliant on the rest of the party to get by in various situations. Is that a bad thing?

Monsters

Just like mundane people in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, monsters are playable, because they are regular people. I’ve gone over this in other posts and also you can just read about it in Chapter 8 of the Eureka rulebook, but the setting of Eureka doesn’t have a conspiracy or “masquerade” hiding or separating supernatural people from normal society. They exist within normal society, and a lot of them eat people.

Most RPGs consider monsters to just be evil, they do evil for evil’s sake. RPGs that seek to subvert this expectation often instead make monsters misunderstood and wrongfully persecuted, but harmless. Eureka takes a wholly different approach.

There are five playable types of monsters in the rulebook right now, and it’ll be seven if we hit all the stretch goals, but for simplicity’s sake this post will just focus on the vampire. Despite them applying in different ways, the same overall themes apply to nearly every monster, so if you get the themes for the vampire, you’ll get the gist of what Eureka is doing with monsters in general.

I mentioned Composure above, and how it can normally be restored by eating food and sleeping. Well, vampires can not restore their Composure this way. They don’t sleep, and normal people food might be tasty as long as it isn’t too heavily seasoned for them, but it doesn’t do anything for them nutritionally. Their main way to restore Composure is fresh living human blood, straight from the source. To do what mundane PCs do normally by just eating and sleeping, vampires have to take from another, whether they’re happy with this arrangement or not. They do not, of course, literally have to, and a player is not forced to make their vampire PC drink blood, just like you don’t literally have to eat food, but they do and you do if you want to live in any degree of comfort or happiness, or else they’d eventually just sit at 0 Composure and not be able to effectively do anything.

There’s a reason that this is a numerical mechanic and not simply a rule that says something like “this character is a vampire and therefore they must drink blood once every session,” and that is to emphasize and demonstrate that the circumstances a person faces drive their behavior. In America, there is a tendency to think of criminality and harmfulness as resulting from something of an intrinsic evil, but in my experience and observation, people do not just wake up at like age 16 and decide “I think I’ll go down the criminal life path.” Through their life circumstances they have been barred from the opportunities that would have given them other options. People need food, food costs money, money requires work, work requires getting hired, but getting hired requires a nearby job opening, an education, an impressive resume, nice clean clothes, a charismatic attitude, consistent transportation, and so on. For people without, criminality is something they are funneled into, which becomes harder to avoid the longer they go without consistent access to their basic needs. The choice will be between taking money from others by force or trickery, or running completely out of money.

As the Composure counter ticks down, a vampire, or other playable monster, is going to encounter much the same dilemma. There is little to no “legal” or “harmless” way for them to get their needs met, even if they do have some money. Society just isn’t set up for that. And no your kink is not the solution to this, trying to suggest every vampire get into sex work is like one step removed from telling every girl she should just get an OnlyFans the minute she turns 18, or that women should just marry a man and be a housewife that gets taken care of if they want their needs met.

Playable monsters in Eureka are dangerous, harmful people. They were set up to be.

“Oh well then the vampire should just eat bad people!” You mean those same bad people i just described above? See this post for answers to all the other arguments people are going to make to try and absolve vampires of causing harm.

Society not being set up for that brings me to next reading/theme: Monstrousness as disability, and monsters as takers.

Mundane human characters restore 2 points of Composure per day just by eating food and sleeping, but vampires do not, they can’t. To restore their Composure they have to take from others a valuable resource that everyone needs to live and the extraction of which is excruciatingly painful and debilitating (blood). No one knows what happens to blood after a vampire drinks it, it’s just gone. Vampires are open wounds through which blood pours out of the universe.

This is a special need, something they have to take but cannot give back. Their special needs make them literally a drain on society and the world.

Even in so-called “progressive” spaces, there is a tendency to consider takers, people who take much more than they give back, such as disabled people, as something that needs to be pruned, with the mask over this being the aforementioned total denial of the fact that disabled people take more than they can give.

In this way, vampires and other playable monsters are, inarguably, “takers,” but in positioning them as protagonists right beside mundane protagonists, Eureka puts you in their shoes, and forces you to at least reckon with the circumstances that make them this way, as well as acknowledge their inner lives. You have to acknowledge two things: That they are dangerous, harmful people who take more than they can give, and that they are people. Because they are people, Eureka asserts that they have inherent value, a right to exist, and a right to do what they need to do to exist.

One final point is that of monstrousness as mental illness. Mental illness is a disability, one pretty comparable to physical disability in a lot of ways, so all of the above about disability can apply to this metaphor as well, but there are a few unique comparisons to make here.

It’s not the most efficient, but there are a couple of loopholes deliberately left in the rules that allow vampires to restore Composure without drinking blood. Eureka! moments can restore Composure, and Comfort checks from fellow investigators can restore Composure.

When I was writing the rules for how monsters regain Composure in accordance to these themes, I came to a dilemma where I wasn’t sure if it was thematically appropriate for them to be able to regain Composure in these ways, but ultimately I decided that yes, they can. It works with themes of mental illness, which is mental disability.

People with mental illnesses may have the potential to be harmful and dangerous, but study after study, including my own observation, has shown that mentally ill people with robust support structures and agency allowed to them to handle tasks are much less likely to enact harm, be that physical violence, relational violence, or violence against the self. So that’s why I kept that rule in for playable monsters. Being able to accomplish goals, and having friends who are there for them, makes the harmful person less likely to cause unnecessary harm.

I couldn’t really figure out where to fit this paragraph in so I’m sticking it here right before the conclusion: Vampires are especially great for this because they’re immortal, and because they always come back when “killed.” They can’t be exterminated, they aren’t going away, there will always be problem people in society, no matter how utopian or “progressive.” They’re a never-ending curse, who will always be a problem. The question is how you will handle them, not how you will get rid of them.

In conclusion,

Eureka is as much a study of the characters themselves as it is the mystery being solved by the characters. It is a harsh, but compassionate game, that argues through its own gameplay that yes, people do have needs which drive their behavior, many people do have special needs that are beyond their ability to reciprocate, and failure to meet the needs of even a small number of people in a society has high potential to harm the entire society, not just those individuals whose needs are unmet.

And Candela Obscura sucks.

Back Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy on kickstarter before May 10th if you want to help a disabled person with limited ability to work pay his bills.

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If you want to try before you buy, you can download a free demo of the prerelease version from our website or our itch.io page!

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

You can also support us on Ko-fi, or by checking out our merchandise!

Join our TTRPG Book Club At the time of writng this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is the current game being played in the book club, and anyone who wants to participate in discussion, but can’t afford to make a contribution, will be given the most updated prerelease version for free! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

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abilouwrites · 3 days

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GODDESS

Pro hero! K. Bakugo

I ❤️ laufey

It happens each time, but I fall for it each time. That he truly loves me, love through the soft glances, lingering touches and sleepless nights intertwined. His hands brushing through my hair as my chest presses against his. His stubble scratches against the bareness of my neck. A soft groan emits itself from him, “do you have to leave so soon?” I ask, I hear him huff as we split apart.

“Yeah. It’s the job” I hear him groan as he stands. He’s covered in scars. Some small some large, but there’s one; a large jagged edge that goes from the base of his ribs to his pelvis. It spreads and shrinks as he moves. Walking himself to my bathroom as I slowly check my phone before I get up and walk to my fridge. I find a shirt, lazily thrown on the ground. It’s mine, the pink silk button up. I button it up and open my fridge.

I leave for work before I see him again.

It happens more often than I like, that post concert haze. Silky dress and hair curled to perfection, it’s true that I look like something out of this world. That I look like a goddess in that light, I’m not surprised he took me home, nor am I that he left. When he saw the frizzy hair and tired eyes.

I go to the studio as I always do, guilty as always. Guilty of everything, of how my friends hair was ruined by the wind, but most of all I feel guilty of him. How I treated him, how that night was supposed to end. How maybe I did deceive him, how I’m not the beautiful creature he thinks I am. Surrounded by lights and violins, chellos and wind instruments. When the sun rises I am human again, with puffy cheeks and crazy hair.

I went from Goddess to Human in a night. I’ve risen, jumping to the light. Grasping at the sun, and somehow. In my naivety I grasped onto him. I let him in only for him to bring me down again. My anger fueled by his own, I let him shoot me down. Like a shooting star, somehow; I found myself letting him drain the life out of me.

I found myself waiting for his text, as I sit on the couch; every notification could be been his. Slowly sucking the soul out of me, out of my passion and my work. Waiting every minute for him, just a simple night out and I’m perfecting my makeup to be his goddess, to be the perfect one for him. The one the media doesn’t criticize; the one who’s past relationships get leaked over the media.

But now his number is blocked, and I finally let him go. I’m a goddess on stage but I’m not his. And in the confines of my home, the plant littered, messy apartment I’ve called my own, I’m no goddess. I may be one on stage. But alone.. alone. Im no goddess.

#louiseabilenewrites #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski #katsuki x you #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki x y/n #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you

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sandcobangevent · 1 day

Text

Life on the Line

by Mush_Pit and @4thelneyj0nes

Read the fic or view the art on AO3!

John's heart races, his palms sweat, and his breath hitches as he sees that little notification flashing in front of Archie's photo.

He's screwed.

He is beyond screwed.

“You know just staring at your phone won’t solve anything,” Mariana comments watching John panic from the comfort of the living room couch.

“I know it doesn't! But reading it just…makes it real, you know?” John sighs.

Mariana shrugs, “Well, what if you aren't getting fired?”

“Oh yeah, I'm sure that after breaking a massive pile of plates they'll great me with open arms! Hell, they'll probably give me a promotion for that!” John snaps with sarcasm dripping through each syllable.

Mariana struggles to stifle her laughter hearing about the infamous plate incident that happened the day before.

“Stop it! It's not funny!” John pouts as his cheeks burn bright.

“Sorry, sorry. I just…what did you trip over again?”

John hesitates and turns away in embarrassment, “A b-banana peel…”

“Just like in a cartoon?” Mariana teases as another chuckle threatens to leave her mouth.

“This is serious! What am I going to do!? This is the third job I lost in the last six months! How am I going to pay rent or get Archie his food?”

Mariana's eyes soften as she walks over and rubs his back, “Hey, it'll be okay. If push comes to shove I can help with bills.”

John sighs, “You're my roommate not some hero. It's not your job to clean up my messes.”

“Alright. Then stop staring at your phone and face the consequences.”

John let's out a shaky sigh. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text.

As expected, it was from the owner, but the text was more spine chilling than expected.

“Come meet me in my office.”

The walk to the restaurant was torturous. John couldn't help but feel like a cow being sent to the slaughter.

Stepping through the restaurant's dining room, John's legs started to feel weak. Just a few steps ahead of him was the owner's office.

Behind that chestnut door was the man that was going to fire him. John wanted to run away, and yet he found himself closing that gap and knocking on the door right under the golden name plate with the name “Mycroft” engraved.

A few tense moments pass before the word “Enter” is spoken from the inside. With one deep breath, John enters the belly of the beast.

The office was more cozy than expected. It was spacious with dim lighting, a red carpet, and mahogany walls. One could confuse it with a lawyer's office or some politician's.

“Please sit.”

Like a soldier, John follows the orders without complaint. He knew better than to try to make excuses. Not that he could, his mouth was too dry and the thought of speaking made feel nauseous.

He's watched many employees before him enter this office all in either tears or fuming with anger. He wonders which he would be.

Mycroft leans back in his chair and stares at John like a shrike eying the next mouse to impale.

After a few tense moments, Mycroft speaks, “Each of those plates cost £50 a piece and you managed to break 186 of them.”

“Y-yes and I'm so sorry. I will never-”

“I'm not finished.”

Immediately John shuts his mouth feeling the pit of his stomach grow deeper and heavier.

Mycroft notices how pale the other man had become and couldn't help but pity him, “I should fire you. Fire you and charge you for all those plates.”

John sinks into his seat waiting for the hammer to come down.

Mycroft sighs and leans back on his seat, “However, it seems like you have a guardian angel. Sherlock vouched for you. Claims that it was a complete accident and you slipped on a banana peel so you may go.”

John could've sworn that he had misheard. He wasn't going to be fired? Even more unbelievable…

…Sherlock vouched for him

Sherlock Holmes, the five star Michelin star chef. That chef vouching for some dishie!? Impossible! Ridiculous even!

“Well are you going to just sit there? Get to work.” Mycroft orders.

John immediately nods and eagerly reaches out to shake his hand, “Thank you! Thank you so much! I promise you I'll never break a plate ever again!”

Mycroft pulls his hand away before waving him off, “Yes, yes, now just get to work.”

Without another word John leaves the room fearing that if he stayed any longer the walls themselves would crush him.

Once safe in his station in the dish pit he lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding. He never felt so happy to see the pile of filthy plates waiting for him.

With a gentle touch he reaches to take one of the plates only to jolt up as someone taps his shoulder.

The soapy plate slips through his fingers. Scrambling, John tries to save the plate from crashing onto the floor but before he could do so someone else grabs the plate.

“You should really be more careful, Watson. We need these plates.” The voice behind him says.

John's heart leaps hearing that. He recognizes this voice. It is the voice he had heard many times before across the room calling out orders during dinner rushes.

Sherlock

“Could you help me?” Sherlock asks as dishie finally turns to him.

“H-help? F-from…from me?” John asks, shocked.

“Yes. One of my prep cooks called out today and I have potatoes to peel. May you help me?” Sherlock asks again.

John gulps as the taller man's looks at him so intently, “Umm…well, I haven't really ever peeled potatoes…other back home with my mum when I lived with her, but not much anymore!”

“That’s alright. I'll show you. Now come on.” Sherlock insists on tugging the shorter man towards one of the prep tables.

A box full of potatoes awaited them. Sherlock seemed unfazed by the mass of potatoes as he took one potato in his right hand and picked up his paring knife with his left.

John couldn't help but look at the young chef's hands. He never expected Sherlock to be left handed nor did he expect how delicate he was as he peeled off the tuber.

It was memorable to watch Sherlock work. If only Sherlock wasn't so reserved he could be bigger and better than Gordan Ramsey or any other chef.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch?” Sherlock questions.

John feels his cheeks heat up as he shakes his head and picks up a potato and a knife.

For a few moments, they worked in silence. Sherlock peeled his potatoes so effortlessly with skill just pouring out of him. That couldn't be said the same for John who was still working on his first potato.

“How's your head?” Sherlock suddenly asks.

John blinks, “M-my head?”

“Yes. Yesterday you hit your head when you slipped on the banana peel. I hope you are alright?” Sherlock asks.

John could feel his heart pounding as his cheeks became a dark shade of red, “Oh that! No, yeah I’m fine! Just a little bump in the head, nothing serious!”

Sherlock nods, satisfied with the answer, “That is good to hear. I like you all in one piece, Watson.”

This is the second time this day here John could've sworn that his heart has stopped. Has Sherlock always been like this?

Most importantly, why would he care for him of all people?

Before John could answer Sous Chef Lestrade entered the room, “Chef you have a call from one of the suppliers. Something about having problems with delivering the rack of lamb for tonight.”

Sherlock’s face seems to drop and his shoulders seem to tense as he sets down his knife and potatoes.

“Finish these,” he orders before disappearing around the corner.

John’s gaze followed Sherlock the best he could but it was as if the chef was never there in the first place.

The dinner rush in the Diogenes Club on Saturday nights are always the worst ones. Every table is booked, very demanding customers seated at every one, and not to mention the few fools who try to get in without a reservation.

Sure you might get lucky in getting an open spot on a Monday or Tuesday but it is impossible to do so on Saturday, and yet crowds of hungry people still line up around the whole building hoping the couple that reserved their seats months in advance wouldn't make it.

The tension in the kitchen is palpable. From the looks of all the cooks' faces you would guess that they were doing some major heart surgery not frying some foie gras. However, the cooks were less worried about feeding the customers and more concerned with being able to satisfy Sherlock.

Sherlock was a notorious perfectionist. If a bit of steak is a little too rare or too well done he would have the rotisseur refire another one and another until the steak is perfect.

At the moment, it was line cook Oliver who has become Sherlock's latest victim being stationed on garnishes for the night.

He was a young kid no older than twenty. Graduated from the Dudwell Cooking School. Graduated on top of his class too which is something John only knew because he always finds a way to bring it up.

Oliver was a good cook, a great cook even but his explosive temper always outshines his culinary skills.

“What!? Again!?” John hears Oliver shout.

As calm as ever Sherlock answers with, “Yes again. The mashed potatoes you gave me are pasty. I need you to refire.”

Oliver scoffs and rolls his eyes, “This is the fourth refire you told me to do! It's just some mash! Everything else is ready! If I do another refire it'll kill the whole table!”

“Yes it will, but if you've done it correctly in the first place we wouldn't have this situation.”

For a moment there was silence. A wrong kind of silence that has everyone at the edge of their seats.

Even John couldn't help but watch the whole thing unfold with the pile of dirty plates disappearing from his mind.

“You’re utterly insane, you know that!? Completely insane! You want your perfect damn potatoes!? Go on then! Do it yourself! I quit!” Oliver shouts, tossing his apron at Sherlock before storming out of the kitchen.

As Oliver walked past, John could swear that there was steam coming out of the boy's ears.

“Sherlock, what are we supposed to do now!? We need everyone here!” Lestrade questions already feeling a headache forming.

Sherlock doesn't answer and instead turns to the dishpit. John feels his heart leap from his chest as his eyes meet the Chef's sharp gaze.

Quickly he turns away and tries to go back to washing dishes but is soon interrupted.

“Watson?” Sherlock calls out.

John gulps, “Y-yes?”

“Do you know how to make mashed potatoes?”

John blinks, “M-me? Umm…well yeah I guess so…why?”

In that one moment Sherlock tosses Oliver's apron, “Put that on and cook then.”

John was too stunned to speak. Sure he has cooked at home mostly with his mum, but cooking here? In a professional kitchen alongside cooks with ten times the experience of him. It was ridiculous and yet he found himself putting on the apron.

John always watched the cooks from afar from the dishpit but had never imagined himself to be standing there in front of a stove other than a sink.

“Are you ready, Watson?” Sherlock asks.

Not trusting his voice, John nods.

“Good,” Sherlock smiles before addressing the kitchen, “Refire on table 47! One steak medium-rare, two sea bass, and one lobster risotto! Understood?”

“Yes chef!” Everyone calls back in unison before getting right to work.

Following the herd John scrambles to start on his dish but his hands are trembling. If from far the action in the kitchen felt intense, being here in the kitchen felt like war.

Two hands close around his shaky hands.

John jumps with the contact and looks up to see that the one holding his hands was Sherlock, “Relax. Panicking will only cause mistakes.”

For a moment the rest of the kitchen disappears with only Sherlock and himself being present, “Y-yeah…I'll…I'll do that.”

Sherlock chuckles, “Good now just focus on cooking.”

John feels a blush creep onto his cheeks as he nods and finally gets to cooking.

After the first moments of shock he finds his own rhythm. His first portion of mash was complete and he quickly placed it on the hot plate.

Sherlock takes the pot and examines the dish carefully before taking a spoonful from the top. John wasn't sure if he was terrified or excited watching Sherlock eat his food. All he knew was that he wanted to throw up.

After a few tense moments Sherlock turns to John and nods, “Keep it up, Watson.” He says as he places the mash on the plate.

John’s heart flutters as he rushes back to the station.

Due to the adrenaline, the night blew pass and the next thing John knew it was over.

“We lost Oliver but it seems like we gained John! In my opinion, thank God! That kid was driving me mad!” Lestrade laughs, patting John's back as the other cooks laugh and agree.

“I don't know about that. It was just for tonight, you know?” John nervously chuckles.

“Oh come on! Don't be such a downer! You were A rubbish dishie anyway!” Gregson jokes causing the rest of the group to burst into laughter.

The lightened mood lasts as they clean the kitchen. Laughter and banter is heard in between scrubbing down the stove top and mopping the floor.

It wasn't until hours later did John step out of the kitchen and into the chilly night air. He shivers for a moment before pressing his back against the wall as he takes out his phone.

“Got a light?” A voice suddenly asks, causing John to jolt up, “Jesus Christ! Are you trying to scare me to death!?” He snaps turning towards the voice only to come face to face with Sherlock.

His chef coat was gone instead replaced with a baggy black sweatshirt and sweatpants. John almost couldn't believe it, if he didn't see Sherlock in the kitchen himself it would've been impossible to believe that the man in front of him was the best chef in London and possibly the world.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Do you have a light?” Sherlock asks again, holding up his cigarette.

“Oh umm…no…sorry.” John mutters, “You know those things will kill you.”

Sherlock rolls his head, “So I'm told.” He says stuffing the cigarette back into the half empty cigarette box, “You held up pretty well tonight.” He comments.

“Oh y-yeah…umm…thanks Sherlock.” John says quickly, scrambling, “I mean chef!”

Sherlock laughs, “Sherlock is fine. To be honest I prefer it. Chef sounds too…formal.”

“And you don't like formal?” John questions.

“No, not at all. Unlike Mycroft I find formality unbearably boring. I prefer something more exciting. Maybe that is why I enjoy your company.” Sherlock smiles.

John's heart flutters as a blush creeps upon his cheeks, “Y-you do?”

“Of course, there's never a dull moment when you're around.” He affirms as he starts to walk towards the parking lot.

Before John could find his ability to breathe again the chef stops and turns back to him, “Lestrade is right. You are a lousy dishie, but you are a decent cook. We should cook together sometime.” he says before turning back and walking towards his car.

And for the hundredth time that day, John could've sworn that his heart had stopped.

#submission #sherlock & co #sherlock and co #event #fanart #fanfiction #flash bang #creative collaboration #sherlock holmes #john watson

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serickswrites · 3 days

Text

Come With Me V

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warnings: mayhem, destruction, emotional manipulation, poisoning, self sacrifice, mcd, hurt/no comfort

Villain was silent apart from the coughing spells that became more and more frequent as Hero sped through City. Several times Hero found themself opening their mouth to say something, but closing it as they thought the better of it. Where do they even begin?

Hero was saved from having to say anything as they pulled into the secret driveway that led to Base. "Let me lead, Villain. You're in no shape to fight."

Villain opened their mouth to protest, but a cough cut them off. "That's my point. You just focus on finding the antidote and I'll focus on disabling Superhero."

Villain nodded. They handed Hero a communicator. "Call me if you need my help."

Hero pocketed the communicator knowing full well they wouldn't call Villain. Villain was poisoned because of them. "Villain, listen, I--"

Villain smiled as they started off toward the research center. "Save it. If....If you want to talk after everything is over, I'll be all ears. But none of this," they waffled their hand around, "words said out of desperation. We can talk after."

Hero nodded and sprinted off to where they suspected Superhero would be waiting. "Took you long enough," Superhero growled as they loosed a fire ball at Hero's head as Hero rounded the corner to Superhero's office.

Hero had just enough time to jump back. "What the fuck?"

Superhero frowned. "Oops. I missed."

"What is wrong with you?" Hero crouched behind the wall, knowing it would give them ample cover to hide.

"You took too long to get back. Once I saw you were clear of the building, I knew that could only mean one thing." Superhero's voice was as cold as ever.

"And you didn't think that maybe Villain had kidnapped me? That I was being tortured for information Villain could use against you?" Hero couldn't believe that Superhero, their mentor, their leader, could be so cold and callous. They hadn't wanted to believe Villain. Hadn't wanted to, but deep down they knew Villain was right. And hearing Superhero talk now confirmed it.

Superhero laughed as they blasted the wall out from over Hero's head. "Villain would never hurt you. They may not be a lot of things, but they are sentimental." Superhero launched another fireball.

Hero ducked and rolled out into the hall, sending bolts of electricity at Superhero. Superhero blocked Hero's attack with a wall of fire. "They are so predictable."

Hero was up and running before Superhero could take another shot at them. This was not good. Superhero was just too powerful. They just had to keep Superhero distracted long enough so that Villain could get the antidote and getaway. Villain would keep fighting against Superhero. Hero could buy them enough time as their atonement for not believing Villain. For not trusting Villain.

"And you're not?" They placed their palms on the ground and sent a powerful current into the floor.

Superhero leapt into the air, avoiding electrocution with ease. "I can be predictable. I have more power." Superhero sent flames towards Hero, blocking their exit. "And this is the end of the line, Hero." They raised a fist of fire.

Hero closed their eyes. They said a silent apology to Villain that this was the only time they could buy for Villain. It would have to be enough. Hero was strangely at peace with being destroyed.

"For you, maybe," Villain's voice, though weak, rang down the hallway.

Hero wrenched their eyes open to see Superhero turn with flame coated fist towards Villain. Villain aimed a weapon Hero had never seen before at Superhero. Villain's arms shook with the effort to hold and aim the weapon.

"Pathetic. You can't even raise it all the way. You are weak. You are filth. You are nothing."

Villain smirked. "That may be true. But at least I'm not evil."

"You are powerless. You cannot stop me. You don't even know what that does, do you?" Superhero sneered as they stepped towards Villain, flames twining down their other arm.

"Do you?" Villain's eyes flashed as they caught Hero's gaze. "Duck!" They roared as they fired the weapon at Superhero.

Hero couldn't exactly explain what happened as they ducked. One moment Superhero was there, flames spiraling towards Villain, the next a wave of energy passed over them and they were gone.

"Oh thank goodness," Villain said as they sank to their knees. "You ok, 'ero?" Villain asked as they began to cough again.

"Did you just..."

"Convert the form of energy that the matter making up Superhero to another form using an energy based weapon? Yep." Villain coughed harder, specks of blood flecking their lips and the back of their hand.

"Whoa, hey, hey! Villain, what about the antidote?" Hero hurried down the corridor to where Villain knelt. Hero couldn't breathe around the lump in their throat. This was not happening.

Villain lifted their head weakly, their face paler and sweatier than ever before. "DDDDDoesn't-t-t-t-t ex-ex-exist." They tilted forward, but Hero caught them, keeping them from falling.

Hero began to cry. "Tell me what to do. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. What do you need?" Hero could feel Villain struggle to take a breath. Could feel the heat emanating from them. Could feel Villain dying in their arms.

Villain blinked up at Hero. "There'ssss nothing. It's...It's.....It's 'k, 'ro." Villain took a choking breath. Their breath rattled deep in their chest.

"No," Hero sobbed, "no, you can't die. Not after....not after everything. I need you, Villain. I.....I....I love you."

Villain pressed a shaking hand to Hero's cheek. They sucked in as much air as they could. "I love you, Hero. I.....I....I nnnneverrrr st-st-stoppeddddd." Villain closed their eyes tightly against pain as they coughed. They coughed and coughed, their body shaking with each movement. "It'sssss 'k, 'ero. 'm 'k w-w-w-ith th-th-thissssss. Y'r 'k." Villain's touch on Hero's face began to slip away as Villain closed their eyes.

Hero put their hand on Villain's, keeping Villain's hand on their cheek. This wasn't happening. This was all their fault. They should have gone with Villain all those years ago. Why hadn't Villain give up on them? Hero had given up on Villain. Why hadn't Villain given up on them? "Was it," Hero sniffed, "was it all worth it? All the pain, all the hate. Was it worth it?"

Villain's eyes fluttered opening. Their eyes blazed with the passion Hero knew filled their being. "It.....w-w-was if....if....if.....I wassssss rightttttt. I," they took a wheezing breath, their eyes clouding with pain, "tooooook a ga-ga-gamble on....on...on the sl-sl-slimmmmmm chancccceee I...I....I was right." Their eyes fluttered closed as they took another shallow wheezing breath.

Hero tapped Villain's cheek, unwilling to let Villain leave. They couldn't leave. They needed Villain. "But was it worth it? Worth being the villain in everyone's story?"

Villain opened their eyes slowly, eyes clear once more. "I....was....nnnnever the v-v-v-illain in yyyyyourrrr st-st-story, H-H-Hero." Their breath rattled in their chest as they gasped. "'nd I w-w-wassss right."

Hero let out a howl of pain as they watched the light in Villain's eyes die. Let out a heartrending sob as the wheezing, rattling breaths stopped. Let out the sound of their heartbreak as the only person who they ever truly loved and was loved by died in their arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Hero sobbed into Villain's hair. "Please, please, come back. Come back. Please. Please. Villain. God. Please, come back. I need you. I'm sorry. So sorry."

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