#two unnamed FUCKIN HEROES

[hausofmamadas]

SE LA ARRANCA A MORDIDAS | mystery of Amado's anonymous lady-hustlers, solved

⁂

Holy father who art in heaven, do I have some fucking cracked ass head-canon nonsense for us to👏🏽 day👏🏽 …………….. let’s get to it shall we??

so idk if anyone anyone being the largely nonexistent narcos fandom aka the void Im speaking into remembers that one scene from Narcos in S3 where sleazy!OG!Amado told that one story about those sex workers who robbed him blind, mid-mamadita?

anyone ..... no?

dwdwdw that's okay bc I brought some visual aids to assist in our collective remembrance of this glorious occasion

⁂

The scene starts like this: 👇

Okay, yeah, right? legendary? legendary. just truly legendary behavior skfjskj on all fronts. but the identities of these social justice warriors— no wait activists— no wait, crusad— er no, patriarchy demolishers? iconic crimies with a penchant for for mid-fellatic felonies like armed robbery have been completely anonymous thus far.

…………… until now.

Bc as always, Narcoverse papis Doug Miro, Andrés Baiz, and Carlo Bernard, never fail to fill in the blanks except when they do cause Griselda left a lot to be desired and this is arguably the best ep of the show which, yeah. it’s never ideal when the best ep of a 6ep limited series is the 2nd one si me entiendes😬😬😬 but we digress because im 99.99999999999999% sure if these two sex workers from Griselda aren’t also the two legends who hustled Amado’s dick money out his pants pockets without having to fire so much as a single shot, I’m fairly certain they’re at least inspired by and carrying the torch aka bottling and distilling that Big Dick Energy to perfection of those brave women.

What gave me this idea? So glad you asked dear reader you didn’t but we’ll just pretend you did cause this my haus KEKW…. No like even I rolled my eyes at my own self for that but i couldn’t refrain either.

It all happened when I was nursing my new obsession with a one, Mr. Darío Sepúlveda a name I would most certainly believe to be fucking fake were he not an irl human bean.

👇👇 THIS slice of sweet, cherry pie right tf here

And I stumbled upon this one specific part, where the look on this chick’s face is SO FUCKINGKDHDHDGWVE SIMILAR to Amado’s face, when he’s explaining 👇👇👇👇👇👇👇how the burgling commences when the gurgling is interrupted by with an uncomfortable silence, as this chick proceeds to, hog still in mouth, cease any and all throat activity and fuckingskdfjskl just stare. up. at. him.

all 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

Like tell me homegirl’s face here👇👇 👇👇 doesn’t look just like it????????????

YOU CANTSJSHSJSHWUS YOU cANT. EVIDENCE IS IRREFUTABLE.

Anyway. Movingright along.

So, if aforementioned homegirl is the 🙇🏻‍♀️ from la historia del grande señor de los cielos, then that makes this ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️ ... homegirl’s accomplice

with the👇👇sidearm

and like the general only slightly subtle "I eat dicks like urs for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a midnight snack" vibes that this duo is serving throughout but esp below bc never will I ever not refer to a fuckboy as mancito from now until I'm in my grave alsdkjfa like MANCITO. THE WAY SHE SAYS IT WITH SUCH ALSKDJFKS CONTEMPT, CAN YOU STAND IT????? makes it so clear in my mind's eye how they could 100000000000%% be the unnamed heroes thieves from Amado's little story

also full 180 just on the low but can we all moment of silence for this 👇👇 FUCKINGSDLDFJ LOOK ON DARIO'S FACE WHEN SHE CORRECTS HIM, "quien te dijo eso? ... un mancito?" LIKE HE FUCKIGNSLDFKJSLKJ KNOWS, HE KNOWS HE HAS ERRED ON THIS PATH, HE KNOWS HE CANNOT PASS GO, CANNOT COLLECT 200 DOLLARS AND HE HAS THE GOOD SENSE TO BE GRACIOUS ABOUT IT AND IMAS;DFLIJA;LWEJF;KAJWE;FAKJ; SFUCKINGS DFKLJSLDF JA;K CRYING, SCREAMING, THROWING UP, INCONSOLABLE. LIKE LOOK. AT THIS. OKAY, THAT A MAN, NO MANCITO

*smacks own face, jiggles head back and forth, takes deep breath* anyway.... back to the story

and this is where this prob super unhinged really solidifies bc let's join hands class and pledge alliegance to the most impressive and noteworthy alpha but in the most non-cringe way assertion of dominance I have ever fucking witnessed in all my days. Like, legit the next time i'm into a dude the way i say this like it's not an 'if' bc RIP to my love life lbr fuck all that playing coy, fuck all that flirting. We just gonna get right to the point bc imma climb all over his lap, purr in his face, and ask about his hobbies like it's the 1978 equivalent of a Hinge profile SKSKKSK

and the next time I am spurned I will absolutely grab his junk in a naked hahahaksdjfk grab for a proper leash power to gain the upper hand in the situation and shame any and all menfolk who claim to not like me bc I'm not their 'type.' which like sksjsjsjs admittedly poor Dario just said that as a pretense to get the chisme from the chick who hates Grislenda bc the look of unconcealed regret on his face when Mistress Mamma Crotch Snatcher Morton gets up seems like a good indicator he would've paid to play with his balls

BUT LIKE SIDE BY SIDE WITH AMADO GETTING TO THE metaphorical CLIMAX bc I sincerely doubt they let him bust, mid-robbery OF HIS STORY, CAN WE NOT SEE HOW CLEARLY THESE TWO WOMEN WERE THE ONES WHO JACKED AMADO OFF– NO WAIT THEY DECIDEDLY DID NOT DO THAT ALL OF AMADO’S SHIT, LIKE CAUGHT PAPI WITH HIS ACTUAL PANTS DOWN SKSJSB

and lest any of us were convinced that Lady "Hijueputa Mandona Esa" who hates Griselda wasn't the one holding the gun on Toque, telling Amado she's gonna have her friend chew clear through his disco stick like some froot by the foot, please refer to exhibit B here ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️where she's manspreading for jesus in these fucking hot pants. I mean try to tell me that ain't power. c'mon

AND THEN THE WAY SHE FUCKINGSLDFKJSL HUSTLES DARIO FOR EXTRA CASH, ALL "you gotta pay me more than that pittance bc yeah, she were a mouthy bitch but I didn't hate her that bad" ensuring he had no choice but to leave a tip, just like our pobre mujeriego, himbo extraordinaire, Sleazy!OG!Amado

And if this isn't the most iconic reminder to tip your servers, folks which everyone should be doing already I truly don't know what is.

═

taglist: @ashlingnarcos @tofuwildcard @narcolini @drabbles-mc

#narcos #griselda #amado carrillo fuentes #dario sepulveda #pacho herrera #two unnamed FUCKIN HEROES #griselda netflix #narcos netflix #netflix narcos #no forreal I tried to IMDb the names of their characters #and neither of them have ACTUAL NAMES #the flagrant disrespect #ain’t no justice for these flop house warriors I mean #respect your sex workers guys #griselda blanco #original gifs #my gifs

[bonnieisaway]

WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IT THAT - I KNOW IT WAS ONE OF MY MUTUALS - WE HAD A REALLY LONG CONVERSATION ABOUT HOW SEVEN ALWAYS WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KILL IN THE PAST, AND WE GOT ON THE TOPIC OF THE GIRL IN WHITE AND YOU SAID THAT YOU THOUGHT SHE DIDN'T MEAN FOR SEVEN TO DIE BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T GO THROUGH THE HEART NOTICBLY MORE THROUGH HIS CHEST/STOMACH AND I SAID I WASN'T SURE IF WE COULD REALLY GO OFF OF THAT BECAUSE WE HADN'T KNOWN MUCH OF HER CHARACTER NOR WHY SHE DID IT BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE WE NEED TO SIT DOWN AND REDISCUSS THIS BECAUSE SEASON FOUR SPOILER THING UNDER CUT

I WENT FUCKING FERAL WHEN THIS WAS SAID because like obviously the question is when the hell did that poison get put in him because I feel like , Seven wouldn't have taken it himself? Like he wanted to move on and he was willing to fight all of Xuanwu for the girl in white but I think he would've known he had to do that face on and that poison would only, inevitably, put them in more danger?

And I can't think of another shadow killer or the leader that would want this- EVERYONE wanted him dead, Green Phoenix presumably didn't care because evidently the shadow killers DIDN'T go after him last time or were afraid to, otherwise he would've used his plan earlier, the leader NEVER gets off his ass, and there would've been no point erasing his memories if he was wanted dead.

I feel like the logical conclusion here - at least I'm assuming between the moment he was stabbed and washed up nobody else saw him, and prior to the fight he hadn't seen anybody else who'd have done this nor discussed it - is that the girl in white had it on her blade, right? Like wasn't she also wanted dead? Seven was protecting her and that's the whole reason he was wanted dead, so killing him would've gotten her killed too and I feel like this shit is waaay too much to pull a sort of long-con to get him killed, but even if she WAS supposed to kill him as some sort of long hidden plan, maybe she might've loved him anyway and CHOSE this form of mercy? Because erasing his memories would effectively 'kill' him? Or was it that they both wanted this to end so badly but she chose the impulsive way out, getting herself killed and a merciful, forgetful end for Seven that had a fighting chance of letting him live on without her?

But also the symbolism when they show it confuses me.

So this eye was a new thing in season four and it ONLY ever really is shown around the leader of the shadow killers, when he's on his being-an-eldritch-horror shit, but my thing is WHAT purpose would he have to do that to Seven? Like yeah, he ordered him dead, but HOW would he even get that done and what reason would he have? Like, it was kind of presumed the leader had gone out on a limb and chosen SPECIFICALLY Seven for some unnamed reason, to a point that even Redtooth was fuckin annoyed about it (probably because to some degree Redtooth envied him but let's pack that away for another day) so I don't know WHY this eye is here

There's also a crow here which I would assume was ALSO for the leader's spybird if it wasn't for Blackbird's whip right next to it? But like, Blackbird doesn't seemingly have an unsettled score with Seven. He wanted him to die, yes, and he said "painfully at my hands," but that's like, how everyone dies to Blackbird. And their entire fight, there was nothing brought up about something in their past or between these two, everything was only about Blackbird's past and his tramua, which almost sounded like he felt like he needed to be this anti-hero killing Seven because of the order and would let Shimen take the reward.

There's also a really faint hand here? I don't know what else to attribute it to other than this hand:

back in season three, which this sequence was VERY much a long allegory about Seven's nature and that he's had a very, very short time to live the life he wanted and that he's basically being fucking dragged through life at this rate, though noticeably the hand here in season four has a red, glowy texture on it (aside from the rest of the texture near it) that's seeming to me either be blood or also another sort of imagery for the poison in him

but also there feels like there's a larger image here, too? It's really hard to make out because I can't really tell if it's just the shading , or a stylistic choice, but the bottom right is noticeably a different shade and has an outline and the inside has a wood-grain like texture? But I think also this might just be a sort of outline - given where it starts on Seven's shoulder - that's supposed to look like a gaseous, poison cloud coming from him. just AAAAAAAH oh my GOD there's so much to think about from this 20 seconds alone kill me

#scissor seven #killer seven #wu liuqi #seven #Also I'll probably repost about it later #but can we talk about how i was DEAD ON about dai bo being afraid of seven leaving and it showed the EXACT screenshot i posted here abt it #GOD that was fucking validating #I have never felt more based the show fr validated me im RIGHT im not just overthinking RAAAHHH A W FOR MEEEE #and also all of us but like i need this for my ego just fuckin give me a moment #season four #spoilers #i think i should tag spoilers? idk its been 9 months but just hit netflic #Back in full swing with the analysis #Analysis trio (that's what my brain has dubbed me james and immortal basically) restored

[princematcha]

tall buildings blinking to airplanes in the snow

pro-hero!bakugou k. x reader (no pronouns)

wc: 10k 

cw: friends 2 lovers, not in chronological order, inaccurate train schedules for plot, a single free willy joke, sections titled in latin because i suck i guess idk, unnamed american hero, an oc sidekick, sfw, not beta-read, reader is shorter than bkg no matter how tall you are, mutual pining, a fake manga, reader gets called pretty, reader has a quirk, fluff

tw: mild violence, blood mention, fight-related injuries, knives, cursing, alcohol, reader self deprecates a lil bit, mild hurt/comfort, slice of life

a/n: happy birthday @strawberry-nugget !!!(this is so late help) this 1 is for my co-owner of a brain cell, sweetest strawb kith kith

soundtrack. (not necessary but what i wrote to. songs can be listened to in any order.)

summary: what makes a home change? love. at least bakugou thinks so.

MDNI

nunc, hiems

(now) “I think we used to talk like that.”

Bakugou hums at you, eyes closed and head resting on your shoulder. You weren’t able to go to sleep and he woke from the lack of warmth from where you usually are. He doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “It’s so bright for two am. The sky is white ‘ki,” you whisper. 

“Cause,” he opens his eyes one at a time, “S cause it’s snowing.”

“I know.” You laugh quietly like you’ll wake someone, “Just thought it looked nice.”

“Does,” he breathes. 

Fake yawning, you raise a hand to your mouth, “Think I’m getting tired now.” Bakugou blinks his eyes open to sleepily glare at you trying not to smile. 

He speaks into your shoulder, “Don’ lie. ‘M not even tired.” Your smile breaks through, warming him from head to toe.

 “I’ll bet.” You say softly, shifting his head to your fuzzy blanket-covered lap. He pouts up at you but doesn’t try to move. 

“Fuck am I doing down here?” You brush his hair out of his eyes as you rotate your shoulder in small circles, pretending to wince.

“Your big head was hurting my shoulder.” 

“You love my big head.” You poke your tongue at him and push his grinning face.

You cover his eyes with your hands, “Go to sleep, freak.” 

Katsuki stops moving after a bit and you assume he’s fallen asleep until he asks what you meant earlier. You’re not quite sure what he means— having chosen to spend the last few minutes tracing his features, gently humming random songs that blended into one another. 

“The ‘used to talk like that.’ What wer’ ya lookin’ at?” He shifts again to look up at you through one eye. 

You bite back the urge to laugh at his sleepy tongue, instead, bending over to gently headbutt him. He grabs the back of your head to keep your foreheads together. 

“Something about how the lights let the airplanes know where it’s safe. Let them know where they can land.” You can feel his eyelashes brushing against your cheek with every blink. 

“Doesn’t make shit sense.”

You huff and sit up. “You don’t make shit sense. Sleep already.” 

“Ya wanna know what I think we talk like?” Bakugou asks as he places a rough palm on your cheek. A dark white sky and city lights give him a softened glow. 

“No.” He grunts a laugh, eyes almost closed and a tired arm starting to rest on you. 

“I think we always talked like this. Not a fuckin’ plane. Hate planes, so much prettier than a plane.”

You grab his wrist and press your lips to his palm, smiling against his hand when he hums at you. 

“Pretty sure they use radios too,” he adds with a smirk. You bite his palm in response. 

“Hope your snores wake you up.”

Katsuki turns to face your stomach and grumbles love you into your thigh. 

duodēvīgintī, vernus (II)

(18) “And you! How does it feel to be a pro-hero, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight-san?” You ask, an air mic pointed towards Bakugou and wiggling your eyebrows around when you say pro-hero. On your right, Denki starts cackling at hearing the full name and smacks your back just a touch too hard. You’re wheezing and shoving him out of the booth when you hear Bakugou say “Great.”

A couple of hours ago, the legendary class of 1-A graduated. Now they’re all shoved in a ramen shop that definitely isn’t meant to have this many people. They had all been coming to your dad’s place since their first year even after it was destroyed that same year. You don’t know much about what happened then honestly, you didn’t come to Japan from your tiny out-of-the-loop town until you were most of the way through your second year, but you can find it in their faces sometimes. Plus you can see how the paparazzi treat the class, how fanatics forget they’re people. 

You make it your secret hero mission to have a place that they can come– and they eat here fairly often– where they can come and be whatever. The hero class if they want, you wait for them to give you a sign that they want to talk about recent hero-related achievements. But they usually come to the small place to just be. 

You can feel Bakugou’s red eyes on you and Denki, it makes a weird feeling stir in your spine. You’re not sure why he’s still looking. He’s been doing that more than usual.

(A wet winter night forces its way to the front of your brain, but you push the thought down as quickly as it appears. Too cold. Too damp. Too dark for today.)

The sun is setting when the former UA students start shuffling out of the ramen shop. Teary hugs with the friends you made from the school, promises of seeing each other later. You know they mean it with their whole heart, but you doubt hero work will give them enough downtime to spend with some civilian in a tiny place they frequented in high school. Still, you smile and hold each promise with trusting hands, letting the feeling drop lead weights into your chest. 

Mina’s hand is sliding off of your lower back when you notice Bakugou hasn’t moved from where he was standing next to the table. Maybe he left something? You don’t remember him bringing anything. The bell above the front door jingles as the last students leave, leaving him plus a couple of businessmen over by the tv. 

“I’m leaving.”

You turn to him with a confused smile and laugh, “Well I’d hope so, can’t stay here for the night.” He doesn’t laugh. Bakugou just looks at you. His warm stare always makes you feel like he’s peeling layers off of you, leaving just the soft pulp out. You haven’t decided how you feel about that yet. 

“No,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, “I’m going to America.” You feel your face tighten. 

“Ah, that’s-” What is it. Why is he telling you? You probably would have found out through Sero or something. So why are you standing less than half of a metre away from Bakugou while he tells you he’s leaving the country. You can see his hands flexing in his pockets, how he’s rocking from heel to toe, and how he’s keeping his eyes on your face. The weird feeling in your spine is back. “That’s exciting!” you smile again. He only leans back a little and squints down at you, corners of his mouth pointed downwards. 

“That all?” You tilt your head up at him, what else are you supposed to say? Does he want you to say something else? You don’t know. You don’t know what to say. (You don’t know what to say to him.)

The tight smile is faltering and the weight in your chest is making you feel heavy. You lower yourself into the booth. He sits across from you. “How long?” you ask. You don’t think Bakugou thinks you’re close, but he’s recently been a quiet comfort. Bakugou’s regular lack of response was a little off-putting at first but lately, they kinda remind you of the kind of silence you get around a campfire, the pause where everyone takes a moment to look at the stars. 

“At least a year and a half.” He sighs and rests his chin against his palm, “They fuckin- They- You-” You give a blank stare in response, confused at what he’s trying to say.  Bakugou grimaces at himself then continues, “They care. About you. And they do wanna see you. And they’re going to try.” The words are sweet, but it looks like someone is ripping them out of his stomach.

“Thanks?” 

He furrows his eyebrows at you and sighs again. This talk is taking a lot of wind out of him. He crosses his arms, “I could just fuckin’ hear how sad your dumb thoughts were getting when all of the extras were leaving.”

“I don’t know if I’d call th-”

Bakugou looks away for a moment before cutting you off, “The thoughts are dumb because they aren’t true.” Oh. “You don’t suck to be around,” a compliment you assume, “And you’re not lame, so don’t have lame thoughts.” You scrunch your face up and try not to laugh (or cry).

“Lame?” You ask, he folds his arms tighter around him and starts to glower at you as his life depended on it. “Are you sure you graduated high school? Not middle school?” You laugh, bringing a hand up to your mouth to hold back from fully smiling.

“I am trying to f-”

“I’m kidding,” you watch the building frustration slowly melt out of him, puffed out chest moving back, “Thank you Bakugou. Mean it.” He finally rolls his eyes, his forearms moving to rest on the table.

“Whatever.”

You stand up suddenly and his red irises dart up to you, clearly confused but you’ve already set a plan in motion. Bakugou’s eyes are slowly widening and he’s leaning towards you even though he keeps clenching his hands then rubbing them on his slacks. 

To catch him off guard you lunge towards him with open arms and hug him as tight as you can, his arms stuck to his sides.

(You did notice him look down at your lips twice, but he was probably figuring out the easiest way to push your face away if you pulled anything unsavory.)

“I’m going to miss you too, won’t have a metro buddy,” you rumble into his shirt, feeling his fast heartbeat against your forehead. 

He clicks his tongue and groans above you. “Just- Just be safe while I’m gone alright? Don’t be stupid.”

A tear soaks into the cloth of his button-up, “I promise. You too. Promise.”

“I promise.”

vīgintī ūnus, aestas

(21) An obnoxious attempt at a tune in the form of knocks erupts from Bakugou’s front door. Who the hell is at his apartment on a Wednesday night? Christ. 

You, apparently.

He rubs an oil-covered hand on his forehead as you draw out the vowels of his name, “Bakugou!” He’s busy. His car isn’t in the garage so maybe you don’t know for sure if he’s home. There’s a silence and he thinks for a moment that you’ve left, then the door creaks from you leaning on it.

“I brought you your special.” That’s a compelling offer. 

Bakugou isn’t nervous to see you alone. No, that would imply he’s been staying up much later than accustomed to thinking about your laugh and your face pressed against his heart hugging him goodbye for two and a half years. That he almost cried when he saw your smile mixed in with the people greeting him when he came back. That in his head he still hasn’t forgiven himself. That he has no idea how to act around you anymore. Bakugou hasn’t been holding off on a one-on-one reunion with you. He’s just been, busy. 

You call through the door, “Hello?”

He presses his face hard against the wood before responding. “Extra pepper flakes?”

“Aha! Hello, yes!” Bakugou hears you do a weird laugh, “With even more spicy sh-”

He flings the door open before you can finish. You stumble over yourself from the violent action before swinging the bag of food away from him. Once you steady yourself, you point an accusing finger in his confused face. The fuck are you doing. He thinks about slamming the door. 

You smile and wave before masking your face in faux seriousness and pointing at him again. 

“Let me in or no food.” 

The two of you hold eye contact for a couple of seconds before you break it to take in his state. Bakugou frowns a little more when he watches your face turn to one of fake surprise. 

“Oh my god!” you gasp with wide eyes. 

His hand tightens around the doorknob. “Fuck is your pro-“

You gesture towards his chest. “Is that a two day old shirt?” 

Never mind, he doesn’t want you in his apartment. 

“Go wash your hands, you’re covered in gauntlet juice.”

He shoots you a dirty look that you pretend not to notice. How you got into his kitchen is lost on him. You continue to arrange the containers and grab bowls, listening to him walk towards the bathroom and mutter about telling him what to do in his own home. Bakugou comes back to the table with a damp face and a new shirt. He watches you tap around on your phone, face changing when you type something new. 

Chopsticks holding one slowly escaping noodle in your right hand, your left clumsily holding onto that brick of a phone case Bakugou sent you after you got a piece of broken phone screen stuck in your thumb. You speak before he can, “Just sit down and eat, I’ll be done in a sec.” He takes a deep breath, he can be normal around you. He’s organized his feelings. 

Katsuki eats quietly for a few minutes, hunched over the table, at first thinking about the graveyard patrol shift he has later, thoughts slowly dissolving into whether or not he left a sock in his gym locker. Between bites and thoughts of missing articles, he does take in you. The haphazard eating, the hair that consistently almost falls into your food, whispering to yourself what you say before you type, and you looking at him when he’s facing his ramen. 

You toss your phone on the table, bringing his attention up to your smiling face. He squints at you.

“What.” He spits, bringing the spoon away from his face. You snort. 

“I can’t just smile at a friend?” you ask, swirling your udon around its bowl. 

He looks back down at his food and pops a fishcake in his cheek, “No.”

You laugh and though the broth is still in his spoon, a warmth spreads through his chest. What the fuck. He shoves more ramen in his mouth to shoo away the feeling. Maybe you poisoned him.

Fixing his chopsticks to the edge of the bowl, he sits straighter and makes a decision. He doesn’t know if his heart will survive, but he wants to hear it at least once before he dies, “You know you can cut it out with the Bakugou.”

You stare up at him with noodles hanging out of your mouth, “What else am I supposed to call you?” You say between bites.

His hand clenches underneath the table and he almost hits himself for being nervous about this, “Katsuki.”

Your eyes widen slightly and drop down to your soup before peeking up at him again. After swallowing you smile and give him a thumb up, food in the side of your mouth, “Sounds good, Katsuki.”

It’s past midnight when he hears you start to pack up your things. Two and a half movies ago you wrestled him onto the couch talking about how you wanted to watch some dumb series. Bakugou fell asleep in the first ten minutes of the second movie.

He dreamt about you in a flower-covered field. You kissed his hands and scattered petals in his hair. You spoke of elves and long battles. You also talked about how he might call you stupid but you have eyes and anyone can see that he needs to take a break, not even a vacation but to just sit down and breathe. How you want to see him cry from laughter just once because it's been so long since the last time. You missed him. 

He feels you pull a blanket further up his body and pat his head twice. “Nighty night Dynamight.” You shut the door softly behind you.

undevīgintī, autumnus

(19) Bakugou stopped answering your messages. That’s subjective. If you don’t consider a one-word reply after days of no response as answering, then he hasn’t replied to you in a while. You knew it was going to happen, even if he didn’t go off to America. You’re sure it’s not a you thing, but a tiny part of you wonders if it is. If something about you drove him away. 

It would be harder to not drift apart, the larger parts of you reason; hero work takes your time, your mind, and your body. Bakugou is a great hero, wants to be an even better one. And Bakugou puts his whole heart into what he wants. 

When he first started responding less, you imagined him on a secret mission, filled with espionage and secret identities. That’s why he couldn't answer. He’s not. Kirishima told you he’s just getting experience in another country, that an American agency practically begged the explosion hero to join. You think Bakugou added the begging part.

You thought your conversations with him were nice. Something to look forward to. You were sure you got closer to the grump when he was on the other side of the world. It started with just texting him every time you hopped on the metro, just to steal some of his spare safety. You don’t know when it happened, but one day you realized that Bakugou provided you a comfort that you didn’t get from your new four walls in Yokohama. 

Bakugou was the first person you’d message when something exciting happened. He’d tell you about his patrol, a picture or two of the pets he saw. If he was feeling generous, he’d send you a picture of what he had cooked, maybe even attach a recipe. Sometimes he’d add little personal notes to the recipe or call you so you could get it perfectly. You’d both greet each other good morning and goodnight no matter what time it was. And now he doesn’t even have the grace to have read receipts on.

Throwing your phone onto your bed, you let yourself melt into the floor. You imagine the hardwood bubbling up and creeping its way over your skin, slowly bringing you into its hold. But it’s not, and you’re laying on the uncomfortable floor while your friends are out there every day doing something. Even if they’re not big heroes. It’s something. They’re something. 

Red and brown leaves float through the air and tap your second-story windows. The shadows laying across the wall parallel to your windows let you know the sun is about to set. Mina invited you to a get-together, “Everyone’s gonna be there!” she sent. You’re not a hero. You’re not even support. 

You feel like your old friends can smell your melancholy in the water like sharks. Well-intentioned sharks. The past month they’ve been very particular about getting you out when you only have the energy to burrow further into your bed. It makes you feel pathetic knowing that they’re accomplishing things in their lives and you’re some sad shape moving through days. You feel like a leech, you can’t think of something you bring to the table. 

A text rings off of your phone. 

It’s Mina again. “I’m outside!”

You find yourself in a bar with your forehead on the tacky wood, five empty shot glasses in front of you, and a hollow burn in your throat. They didn’t have as much of an effect on you as they clearly did on your friends. At most, you can feel a small floaty feeling in your bones, small puffs of helium in your joints. 

People from the former classes of 1A and 1B are making their rounds around the place, occasionally making small talk with you before it dwindles and they get swept into something bigger (better too.)

You feel lost, like an alien on another planet. They’re not even talking about hero shit anymore and you can barely understand them. It’s like you’ve forgotten how to talk, tripping over simple conversation and giving weird grimaces when people smile at you. You shouldn’t have come, you have no idea what’s wrong with you. 

Pushing yen towards the bartender you start to stand up, then two hands plop you back into your chair. Looking at your shoulders, you see one pink one and one with black chipped nail polish. “Where are you going?” Mina pouts on your right, face squished against yours and a nose-burning mix of drinks radiating from her mouth. 

“I haven’t even shown you my new dance moves,” Denki squishes his cheek against your other cheek, “They’re pretty sexy.” If you weren’t so set on sitting on the floor of your shower once you got home you might have gone dancing with him.

Rubbing both of their cheeks you sigh and stare at your phone on the bar top, “I’m tired, I had a really good time though.” Denki whines and Mina falls to your lap, your hands still on their heads. The bar is lukewarm and you think the dancefloor would cook you right now. You’re tired, you smell like other people’s sweat, and you can’t remember the last time you drank water today.

You press harder against Denki and pinch Mina’s cheek, pushing their eyes away from your face, “One more.”

One more becomes the bar on its side and the two of them on the dance floor. The world moves like half-melted jell-o and your face is wet. You think you spilled something on yourself or you were crying. It’s so hot in this bar. You wish you were home.

Sliding off of the bar stool, you set your eyes on the front door. If you don’t let the lights distract you, you think you can make it. Something gets into your eye and you squeeze your eyes shut to get it out, when you open your eyes again, you’re outside. The midnight autumn air on your sweaty skin takes some of the spin away from your vision. You feel dirty all the way to your bones and you can’t even recognize how you smell. You want home.

Grabbing at yourself until your phone ends up in your hand, you tap around to call home. You hope he picks up.

A gravelly voice picks up after three rings, a tired tone asking your name. It sounds prettier than the stars you could’ve seen from here if there wasn’t light pollution.

“Hi Bakugou,” you reply in a small voice. There’s a silence, you weren’t expecting anything out of this. You thought you’d air your heart out to voicemail. The rhythmic, methodical sound of beeps in the background sobers you. “Are you- are you in the hospital?”

“Ah yeah,” you can hear rustling, the creaking of his hospital bed, “Why’re you awake?”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt instead of answering. He goes to ask what you’re talking about and earlier today you would have shut up to hear his voice, but the liquid burning down your throat and sitting in your gut urges you to speak. “I know I’m a lot, I didn’t mean to be so much. I just,” water hits your collar bone but when you look around it isn’t raining, “I think I got so comfortable with you. I thought you were too. You’re really- I really-” You hiccup and all you can hear is Bakugou’s breathing and the fast beeps of the monitor.

He says your name again and you remember you were talking about something, “I really like having you in my life, you’re important to me. If you come back I promise I’ll be less this time.”

A sigh replies, he’s finally had enough of you. Should you hang up to beat him to it? “’M sorry,” he says.

“What?” It’s your fault, why is he apologizing?

Bakugou cough-laughs into the mic and the sound makes you wince, “I was bein’ awful to you and you’re saying sorry? Thought you promised not to be stupid.” The night streets in front of you get blurry the more he speaks, “Never promise someone you’ll be less, tiny. That’s a bad fuckin’ deal. Be all of you all of the goddamn time. I was bein’ an ass n’ it’s not your fault.”

“But,” you argue.

“No ‘buts.’” 

You wipe your face and nod, “Okay.”

He tells you about his time in the hospital, the earth-shaking villain that got him in there, and the “goddamn yeehawin’” patrol partner. You slowly sober up outside, a group of girls having come by and gave you a water bottle from one of their purses because “bad bitches stay hydrated.” Bakugou doesn’t mention why he started ignoring you, but he repeated that he’s sorry. That the dinners he made aren’t worth mentioning and didn’t even taste like anything without your shared input on it. He says you have him back now, and you couldn’t get rid of him if you tried.

“Promise?” You ask, holding a pinky up to the night air.

“Cross my heart, peach.” His voice quiets as tests the new name on his tongue. 

“Peach?”

“Trying something, ya hate it, runt?” 

New tears fall as you laugh and sniffle into the phone, “It’s sweet. Better than runt.”

You wake up the next day with your stomach ready to kill you and a good morning text on your phone.

septendecim, hiems

(17) God, he’s glad he got the fuck out of that stuffy ass room. Bakugou felt like his life was being drained the longer he spent with his parents' friends' New Years’ Party. He never even wanted to go in the first place. 

His loafers sink into the crisp snow, biting winter air swirling around his ankles and over his nose, gloved hands shoved tightly into his pockets. So fuckin cold. In a rush, he forgot to grab his hat, fresh snowflakes being dusted into his spikes and melting the closer they were to his scalp. 

When Bakugou heard they needed more ice, he slipped out with a yell as quickly as he could, ignoring them saying that they had an ice machine in their freezer. Ahead the humming glow of a konbini’s neon lights lay flashing red and blue onto the surrounding snow. The sensor above the door chimes as he walks in, tapping his shoes off before the attendant can greet him. 

In his head he looks a little stupid, scarf pulled halfway up his reddened face from the cold, insulated jacket making him brush against every item he passes by, and loafers. Making his way to the glass doors in the back, the sensor rings again. He can hear their teeth chattering from the other side of the store. Pussy. 

The attendant greets the person while he’s looking at the different brands, spending as much time as possible to not be in the stuffy house. When the customer responds Bakugou freezes and squints at the ice. He knows that voice. You, old man’s kid from the ramen spot. He’s seen you around when the idiots drag him to shit on weekends. The hell are you doing here? Your shop’s on the other side of town. If you recognize him, he might ask.

Turning around, the ice bags in hand Bakugou feels something run directly into his chest, then the sound of falling bags and plastic. He realizes it’s you when you squeak and duck down to pick your goods. You look up to apologize and he watches the slow recognition in your eyes as you remember who he is. 

“Oh! Explosion Murder, right?” Your hand is hovering over another bag and Bakugou frowns at your shorthand version of his hero name. At least say the whole thing.

You don’t have a basket and the snacks keep falling out of your arms when you go to pick up the already fallen snacks, creating a crinkly, annoying cycle. He grabs the ones already on the ground in his free hand, “Bakugou. Why are you here tiny?”

“Wha- Ti- Why am I here?” You frown up at him, he finds a specific pleasure in this reaction, “I’m here for this.” You hold up one of the bags in your hold, the labeling isn’t in kanji. “This is like, the only konbini in Japan that has this, used to have it all the time at home.”

“Huh.” 

You laugh over your shoulder as you start walking back towards the front, “Yeah.”

He forgot you were a foreigner. Do you miss it? You haven’t been here for that long if he remembers right, what was it like back home for you? Do you not consider your house in Japan home yet? You have your dad here. Bakugou has only known Japan, having lived in Musutafu his whole life. He wonders how long it takes to make a place home. What makes it change. 

“I might have a quirk Bakugou, but it sure as hell isn’t mind-reading.” Fuck he was just staring at the bags in his arms. The ice bag’s condensation drips onto the linoleum. You laugh when he finally realizes that there’s a small puddle creeping towards his shoe.

He grabs new ice bags and walks briskly past you towards the register, “Fuck off.”

“On it.”

While the cashier checks out your snacks, Bakugou glances at you looking for your wallet in your pockets. Your puffy jacket won’t let you bring your arms completely to your sides, melting snow in your hair, your earmuffs somewhat crooked on your head, sweatpants haphazardly stuffed into snow boots. “What’s home like?”

He didn’t expect himself to ask and evidently neither did you. You pause and look up at him, when he bares his teeth in response you grin and start looking for your wallet again. “It’s… nice. I miss it some days. Japan’s nice too,” you snap gloved fingers when you find your wallet, “There’s just something about home though ya know?”

He guesses. Bakugou shrugs, tossing your food into a reusable grocery bag he keeps in his pockets. He puts his ice bags on the counter, still holding your groceries, “‘ve only lived here,” he hands the cashier more yen than necessary, nodding when they say Happy New Year, “What else?”

When you push the front door open, you look back at him. “What else?” you repeat with a furrowed brow. 

“Yeah, what else-” he pushes your back forward, “Don't look at me like that I just don’t want to go back to my parents' shitty party.”

“Oh,” you smile at him and he feels a little sweat cover his body, “well if you insist.”

He listens to you talk about your family and life back home until your path to the metro branches off from his. You told him “see you next year!” and it took everything in Bakugou not to throw the ice at you. 

The walk back to the penthouse feels colder than before. Did the temperature drop while he was out? A deeper cold sets into Bakugou that he can’t shake, nudging his face deeper into his scarf and jogging towards the party. He still has a cold feeling in his stomach when he steps into the heated air of the lobby, the warm elevator, even in front of the door at the penthouse. Mitsuki buzzes him in and is in the middle of asking “what took you so damn lo-” before he cuts her off. 

“I forgot something,” Bakugou says quickly and drops the ice bags on the welcome mat, and runs back to the elevators. The lift isn’t going fast enough when he’s going down, thumb repeatedly jamming into the lobby button. He doesn’t know why he’s going back, but something in his bones feels off. If he’s wrong and your stupid face is on that shitty train, then he’s wrong. But something in him just needs to check. 

Running in loafers on snow-covered cement isn’t the easiest thing in the world, but he’s about to be a pro hero, if he can’t do this he should drop out of the class. Bakugou thought the running would warm his hands enough to make him sweat, but there’s not nearly as much as he hoped there would be. The cold is biting and it’s making his eyes water, the front of his hair is starting to be weighed down by snow and his nose feels like it’s about to fall off. God he hates you right now, he can’t tell if he’d rather you be in danger so he didn’t run for nothing, or you safe and on the train. 

He spots the lights of the raised platform and guns harder. His hand is on the railing of the stairs when he hears a scuffle and a cut-off scream nearby. Bakugou whips around and bolts towards where he heard the noise– an alley right next to the station. 

When he gets to the opening his heart freezes in his chest. His heartbeats are ringing throughout his entire body, everything feels so loud and so quiet at once. Dirty snow and your dumb snacks that you needed to get so late at night cover the ground. Someone’s standing over you, holding you up by the collar of your shirt with a knife at your neck. He can’t hear what they’re saying but he can see you crying. That sight wakes his body up. 

You don’t see him when he lunges towards the knife, elbow pointed towards the fucker’s face. It’s a messy fight after that, his brain hazy from the cold and the adrenaline. He knows he can barely use his quirk, just him against some shit for brains villain. The fight isn’t fluid in his mind, only meeting him at certain moments. He’s on the ground, then he’s standing over them, feeling the slice of a blade in his side. Bakugou hears you fall with a groan into some trash bags when his fist makes contact with their ribs. They pull another knife out right before he knocks them the fuck out, knicking his cheek before they go down. He turns back to check on you, shaking and covered in fresh snow. 

He doesn’t know what to do now, mind filled with snow and ice. You look up at him with a tear-covered face and a busted wobbling bottom lip. “How-” he starts, and you rush up from the ground and dart towards him. Bakugou’s arms hang loosely at his sides as you wrap yourself around his torso, shivering against him. 

What happened? He has so many questions, instead of asking he rests his arms on your shoulders as you both slowly crumble towards the ground. Your face is tucked against his scarf and he can hear you whispering thank you repeatedly into the fabric. Sitting next to each other on the bagged waste, you hold him so tightly he can barely breathe. As the adrenaline from the fight starts to wear off, he can feel his body. His left glove is missing and his hand is bleeding (probably his right as well), he thinks he at least bruised a few ribs, his back is wet from getting kicked onto the ground. He keeps thinking about how the shitbag didn’t have a quirk. Bakugou doesn’t know what he would’ve done if they did. He knows he’d find a way to win. 

The shitbag. His eyes shoot over; still knocked out, okay. A belated thought about arresting them ambles through his mind. Hot blood runs down his cheek as he fumbles around his pocket looking for his phone. When he takes it out, there is an uncountable amount of missed calls from his parents. It’s 23:49. How long has he been out here. Blood and snow smear on his phone as he clumsily taps his thumb around to call the police. 

While the phone is connecting to the line he looks down at you. God, you look fucking freezing. He wraps his sore arm as best he can around you. He should’ve just walked with you to the dumb fucking station. How long were you hoping someone would come by? When you cough he looks back at you, fuck why is it taking so long to connect, and you open your mouth to speak. 

“I-I’m sorry,” your teeth chatter through every word, tears welling up in your eyes again. 

“Don’t b- It’s not your fault they’re a piece of shit. You shouldn’t have come out here, you should’ve just fuckin’ waited.” He knows he’s speaking meaner than he intends to but he’s so fucking cold and he almost got his ass handed to him by some giant crook. 

“I’m-”

Bakugou’s eyes cut down to yours, phone pressed steadily against his ear, “Don’t you dare say sorry again. You don’t have to give me that crap just fucking promise not to be stupid.”

Your bottom lip stops shaking as much when you pause to look at him, the space between your brows creased. “Not stupid?” you blink and lick the blood off of your bottom lip, “I ah, I promise.”

“Holdin ya’ to it.” Bakugou glares at the wall parallel to him as he hears someone pick up the phone, immediately barking the address before they can say hello. He has to repeat it and he feels your tight hold loosen. For a moment part of him thinks you’ve died even though he’s the one that got stabbed, but he calms when he hears your steadier breathing. One glance tells him that you’re less afraid now, eyes no longer glossy and petrified. 

When the dispatcher tells him services are on the way, his arm falls and he lets himself groan into the freezing night air. Frosty puffs of air leave both of you, all adrenaline gone now, left with injuries and a knocked-out villain a couple feet away from you. Waiting in the cold winter air. 

Fireworks pop from all around, jolting both of you out of the icy daze that had settled over you before noticing the colorful bursts of light filling the sky. Bakugou sinks back into the wall, eyes squeezed shut. He feels you shift a little closer to him, your face moving further into his scarf. 

“Happy New Year’s Bakugou,” you mutter against him, voice muffled. The moment the words leave your mouth and meet his neck, the events of the night finally fall on Bakugou. It started with his shoulders shaking, building to him laughing the hardest he thinks he ever has, even harder when your confused eyes peek out of the scarf. His side hurts, his cheeks are sore, and in the back of his mind, he can feel you brushing his tears off of his face. What a crap New Years’.

“Shit,” he wheezes,“-yeah. Happy New Year’s tiny.” Kneeing your leg when you pinch him, eyelids heavy with the lullaby of your breathing and approaching sirens.

duodēvīgintī, vernus (I)

(18) Confetti and tinsel fall into your hair as the last “explosion” of Bakugou’s birthday goes off. His unofficial official Bakusquad arranged a celebration at the top of a small mountain. A short hike that wouldn’t be too tiring (Mina didn’t want you to pass out in the middle of a hike meant for a hero class). People spent the entire party trying to smack their party hats onto the birthday boy, trying to get eighteen of the cones onto him. Somehow they got him to agree not to blast any of them away during their attempts, Denki said something about a bet, but the almost-smile on Bakugou’s face tells you he probably would have let them anyway.

When the air starts to chill, everyone begins packing up and cleaning the debris from the explosions. Mina announced with a proud grin that the confetti was biodegradable, but when Tsu asked about the tinsel her face fell and she shooed her girlfriend away.

The thin pieces of shiny plastic weren’t cleaned off of the surrounding area until sunset, more than half of the attendees left already. By the time the rest of you reached the bottom of the trail, it was dusk. A sweet-smelling breeze drifting through branches, soft laughs of your friends behind you. 

Ochako and Tsu are the first to leave from the remaining group, they offered you a ride home but you didn’t want to interrupt their date night. You stand to the side from everyone else while they talk about their different plans, everyone drawing out their goodbyes. 

You told your dad you would just ride the metro home after Bakugou’s birthday, you assumed cleaning up would be done before sundown. It’s been a few months since it happened, but sometimes when a certain gust of wind would find its way into your chest, you’d feel that same freeze you felt in December. You like to think you’d handle things differently now, but you also thought that wouldn’t have happened to you in the first place. 

Tightly gripping your phone and pepper spray in each pocket, you take a step towards the station. 

“Hey!” You?

Looking back towards the group, Bakugou’s jogging towards you, tearing the multiple birthday hats off of him. “Stop fuckin laughin,” he grunts as the last cone’s string slaps his skin. He stops when he’s next to you, an expectant look in his eye. 

“What,” you glance back towards your friends, all huddled and pretending they’re not looking at you. 

He brings his hand to your back, a stiff index finger jabbing into your spine, “Get a move on runt,” sneering down at you when you yelp and smack his hand away, “You’re g’nna miss your damn train.”

You pinch his hand as he retracts it, “I was getting a move on, but you stopped me.” You turn back towards the sidewalk and notice Bakugou is walking in step with you. You look up at him, he’s canvassing the streets with his eyes, hands in his pockets, “What are you doing?”

“Fuck does it look like I’m doing?” 

Tugging on your finger, you stare hard at the sidewalk ahead of you, “You don’t- hm. You don’t have to do that- this anymore, I’m good now.” For the past three and a half months Bakugou has been walking with you to the station whenever he’s around. You never asked him to, but it helps ease the fear more than anything. Today’s his birthday though and you don’t want him to feel like he has to protect you, especially today. 

“This?” His steps slow, and you can feel him looking at you.

Twisting one of your rings around you nod, “Yeah, this. Like walking me. You don’t have to,” you pause and look up at him before looking at a streetlamp, “feel guilty I guess? You can just do whatever you want to do. Be free, Willy.” As you finish, Bakugou stops and faces you, an almost blank expression on his face. 

He’s under the streetlight now, shadows and deep yellows carving precise lines into his face. Did he always look like this? Did he always look so— pretty? You stare into each other's eyes for a beat before he scoffs and flicks your forehead, continuing towards the station. 

You trip over your feet to catch up to him, stumbling into pace with him. “Hey! I just said be free. Go do some birthday stuff,” you say as you elbow his arm. 

“I woke up late, didn’t have enough time to do a morning run.” He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, his opened button up fluttering around with the wind. 

“What?” 

“Walking to the station,” Bakugou side-eyes you, “Cause I couldn’t do it this morning.”

You stare as hard as you can into the side of his face, “To replace an eight k run,” he frowns the tiniest bit and you sense he probably does more than eight k, “You’re taking a five-minute walk?”

“You got a problem with that?” he bites, but the intentioned harsh tone only results in a blooming smile from you. 

“No,” you turn towards the sidewalk again, hiding your face.

“Good.” He bumps into you, “Not getting on that stink ass train though.” 

undevīgintī, aestas

(19) Bakugou thinks he might be sick. His stomach’s been swimming for months, no actual symptoms yet, just filled with knots. In his chest, he has this ache. The physician at the agency said nothing’s wrong, probably just a little homesick. But it doesn’t feel like he just wants to go back to Japan. The feeling reminds him of you describing how you felt about your home. A little different though, he feels like he left something there. He doesn’t know what.

“Hot out, ain't it Dynamight?” A voice breaks him out of his thoughts, shaking him back into his patrolling body. 

It’s nearing the end of summer, air thick and humid. He’s grateful on behalf of his quirk, but every other part of him wants to lay like a dead fish in front of an air conditioner. For professionalism’s sake he’s keeping his mask on, but the sweat running down his forehead is soaking it more than he’s comfortable. The support team here found a way for all of the sweat that soaks into his clothes to get moved to his gauntlets, still, his black compression tank top sticks to him like a second skin. He has never regretted his costume decisions until now. 

He grunts in response to his patrol partner for the season, Ranger, whose hero name is inspired by some vigilante from the “wild, wild west.” Ranger looks and acts like he was stolen from a black-and-white Western and dropped into modern times. Even sounds like one, his words rounded and bouncy. His costume reminds Bakugou of a fucked up cowboy from the future; to which he doesn’t understand, Ranger’s quirk has nothing to do with cowboys or at least guns. 

“Better get a wiggle on, don’t want big man skinnin’ our hides,” He laughs and smacks Bakugou on the back. Ranger taking long strides ahead of him, spurs clinking against the pavement.

Bakugou thinks he needs to practice more English.

At home, freshly showered and basking in the cool of the air conditioning, he’s ready to practice. He flops into the used couch of his apartment, the newest English volume of Aiko’s Love Club in hand. Reading through the pages, he starts to think about what to make for dinner. Last week you said something about trying unadon recipes, but every time you make it something is off. Bakugou hasn’t cooked eel in a bit, maybe he’ll try a recipe tonight. Show you how the best does it.

He thinks this is the volume where Masa finally realizes how she feels about Aiko, she’s been showing classic signs. Masa thinks about Aiko most hours of the day, associates Aiko with almost everything, goes out of her way to impress Aiko even if she “doesn’t actually care,” etc. Bakugou knows the build-up to a confession when he sees it.

He flicks to the next page and finds his predictions correct, Masa is stomping up to Aiko with a determined look in her eye. As she admits how she feels, the emotions raging in her chest, how she can’t get Aiko out of her mind, Bakugou feels his stomach drop lower and lower. Ah, shit.

He hurls the fifteen-dollar manga across his living room.

The nasty feeling in his stomach is worse when he knows the source. He feels warmth spill into his chest and through his veins when he even accidentally thinks of you, quickly turning to ash when he realizes what he’s doing. 

Bakugou comes to a point after a week of keeping his same schedule with you and trying to kill the little dove in his chest with pure will. He came to America to be the best and he knows he wouldn’t have welcomed this feeling if he was in Japan. And he decided he’ll do what he does best, be a hero.

He throws himself in an unbearably hot, timeless void of wake up, work, eat, sleep. The only thing that lets him know that time is changing is the scruff growing in on his face where he would usually shave by now. Every day feels the same, dragging slowly but the weeks seem to pass with a blink. Bakugou assumed that if he took you out of his life, he'd think about you less. But he still has your number and he sees every text you send when you send it, his heart picking up when he hears a notification, hoping it's you. To try and ease the ache he’ll shoot a message back that's impossible to build more off of. 

You’ve started calling him less– which should’ve made Bakugou feel freer, no more seeing your face pop up on his phone screen (a picture of you making the first recipe he ever sent), no more staring at his phone until your call goes away. But he doesn’t. He can’t tell if he never wants to hear from you again or if he wants to hear your voice until the universe crumbles. 

The average patrol with Ranger consisted of many breaks, to no fault of either hero, but Ranger is weirdly popular in this city. Fans stop them every few blocks for a selfie with the American hero featuring a grumpy-looking Dynamight in the background. This time a group stopped the duo, taking longer than a usual stop was. 

It’s a quiet day, only stopping a few pick-pockets, not even a small villain. The sounds of honking horns and chittering civilians fill the streets, an empty gap in the noise where there would be a bird or two overhead. As Ranger strikes another pose, Bakugou unlocks his phone. The screen shows the last app he used, opening your thread of messages to each other. 

This was the first day you didn’t say good morning to Bakugou. It’s his fault, this is what he wanted. Still, he scrolled through your old texts as he got ready at dawn, eyes prickly. He finds himself a couple of months back thumb stuck on a picture of you at the beach. Your face taking up the left half of the screen, a blinded smile from the sun, Denki and Mina in the back with their usual stupid faces.

“(location: ichigo beach, shima) when u come back i am kidnapping u & taking u here!!! there’s even a trail and the view is incredible! don’t be stupid today :p”

He agrees, the view is incredible. 

A hoot startles him from right next to his ear, “Oo! Pretty as a peach,” Ranger tries to expand the picture, but Bakugou swats his hand away, “See why you’re so homesick loverboy.”

“Not fuckin’ homesick,” he mutters, words coming off of his tongue jutted and short, “S’not like that.”

Ranger laughs when he shoves his phone into his pocket with red ears, “Sure goney, long as you’re both happy.”

His words make Bakugou freeze, staring at the pavement ahead of him. Is he happy? Are you? He doesn’t even have an inkling, he hasn’t asked. It’s not your fault that you make him think of warmth and home, and he’s been fighting every interaction with you on the defensive side of a nonexistent battle. 

He doesn’t know why he was doing this anymore. He wants to know that you’re happy more than whatever he was trying to do. He thinks he might call you for dinner today. 

Before Bakugou can respond, Ranger speaks into his earpiece, nodding towards him to tell him to pay attention to the radio in his ear. He only gets a warning of “-ake quirk,” the ground beneath his feet suddenly cracking and splintering like ice. 

Nitroglycerin sweat meeting explosions saves him from the expanding fissure moving through the city, Ranger pulling the moisture from the air to propel him towards him. He presses his cowboy hat harder to his head, grinning at Bakugou, “Time to knock this chucklefuck into a cocked hat,” he hates all of the phrases Ranger uses, he just guesses what he means and hopes he’s right, “Gotta get you back to your pretty thing.”

Bakugou feels a flush rise over his arms and neck, his body heat rising even if the sweltering sun wasn’t beating down on him. Your pretty thing echoes in his head. His. “Shut your mouth,” he bites, already following the crevice in the ground so he doesn’t have to hear whatever Ranger has to say. 

The villain was in the middle of the city, letting their quirk slowly build up in the faults all day. They announced it in a dramatic fashion, talking about the ins and outs of their abilities. It wasn’t too hard to work them into a corner. 

“Heroes disgust me, the absolute decay of society. Cities are no better, rotting us all, it’s time we all go back from whence we came,” they cough, blood running down the side of their head. Behind them: their freshly made gorge; in front: Dynamight and Ranger. 

The hero duo glances at each other for a second to make a plan, not seeing the villain lower their left hand to the broken street. When they look back, things are moving in slow motion and much too fast. 

Right hand holding their bleeding middle, left glowing a glaring blue in full contact with the tarmac, the ground starting to ripple like water with them at the epicenter. 

Bakugou springs into action quicker than Ranger, racing towards them to separate their hand from the ground. They scream when he blasts himself over them, kicking them into the street, using extra momentum to fly above the valley scraping through the city. The villain had used the last of their energy for the rippling ground, leaving them passed out. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Bakugou pants once standing on steady ground. He closes his eyes as he catches his breath, thoughts of you filling his mind. His pretty thing. A small smile starts to grace his face, dropping when feeling unexpectedly cooler. Large shadows arching over the ground. 

“Dynamight!” is the last thing he hears. Ranger rushing towards him and the side of a building much closer than it should be is the last thing he sees. You smiling on the beach is the last thing he thinks of.

vīgintī duo, autumnus

(22) “Where are we going?”

The train shifts back and forth as it barrels down the tracks, you lean further into Bakugou with every sway. “Be patient,” he repeats for the nth time, staring out the window. You thought maybe he’d be tired of you asking by now, but he doesn’t. He’s not tired of you.

An hour ago he called and asked if you were free, you replied that it’s 22:34 on a Thursday, what would you possibly be doing right now, and he said he’d be there in thirty minutes. You heard explosions in the distance fifteen minutes after he hung up. He landed sweaty on your balcony and now you’re on a train to somewhere. The train’s lights are lowered for sleeping passengers, the seat is probably half of its former cushioned glory, and the socks you shoved on are mismatching heights and colors. “Are you kidnapping me?” you ask, leaning against the window, burning the way the train track lights pass over his face into your memory. 

Bakugou looks away from the window to meet your gaze, “Yeah, you scared peach?” His eyes run over your face, the way his plush red scarf is stuffed half-heartedly into your hoodie, how the heels of your sneakers are pressed to the insoles instead of you putting them on completely.

You pull your knees to your chest, chin rubbing against the worn fabric of your sweatpants. “Sure, why am I being kidnapped?” You grab his hands while he’s rubbing them together for warmth, placing them underneath your chin, cushioned between your knees and the bulk of your sweatshirt. “‘ts gross that they don’t use the heaters past 20:00,” you sigh, putting your hands under your knees.

His cheeks turn to a soft shade of pink watching you get comfortable and stare up at him with his palms pressed against each other under your face. “There was something I forgot to do on my calendar,” he eventually mutters, “Couldn’t go to sleep.”

You frown to fight your smile, “You’re forcing me on a midnight errand?” 

“Something like that.”

You fall asleep for the rest of the hour-long ride, Bakugou leaning his head against yours once your breathing mellowed out.

“Oi, wake up.”

You groan as you blink your eyes open, sleep sitting heavy in your muscles, Bakugou’s hands pushing your knees. You bat his hands away, “Kats’ki knock t’off,” tongue removing unnecessary syllables. He snorts and pushes your face towards the window. 

Ichigo beach.

It’s a clear sky, full moon rippling across the shallow waves, barely swaying grass telling you that it’s not a windy night, stars shining down at you. Staring out the window at the night view of the ocean, Bakugou admires your growing smile through your reflection in the glass. He wonders if you can tell he feels love moving through his body every time you smile. That he can feel his heart in his brain when you look at him. When you speak. You might be better off not knowing, he thinks, you would try to give him a heart attack on purpose.

Hopping off of the train into the salty air, your whole body wakes up. Rejuvenated by the sounds of waves washing up on the shore, you stretch and look up at Bakugou. You smile, “What now?” 

“Midnight errand,” he says, pressing a warm hand to your back to nudge you forward. 

“I know that, but what is it?”

He gives you his meanest smile of the night, you almost trip over your shoes at the sight of it, “Be patient.” The funny feeling races up your spine.

You smack his hand off of your back with a huff, “Fine.” And you follow him.

Walking down the short trail to shore, you let your shoes sink into the sand for a few metres before peeling your shoes and socks off, holding them in one hand. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly says, broad back facing you. The nonexistent eyes of the skull drawing on his hoodie are glaring down at you making your feet shift in the cold sand. 

“You gonna throw me in the sea or something?” you joke, unsure of how to respond to the sudden apology.

He stops and you almost run your face square into his back, “Hate that I made you cry. You really forgive me for that?” Bakugou turns around and looks down at you. You’re much closer than you realized, the moon is behind him giving his silhouette a muted white glow. Shadows of his face are unbearably dramatic. “I wouldn’t forgive a dipshit for making you cry,” he finishes, his hands hovering over your arms.

You could laugh, the movement held back by the actual tinges of pain on his face. It’s been three years since he basically ghosted you for a few months, it’s almost impressive the way it has clearly been straining him. He apologized almost bi-monthly over the phone after having drinks with the other sidekicks all the way until he came back. You assumed you both got over it, he never mentioned it after he landed. You can’t remember everything you said. You were nearly blackout drunk on that call, sure there were separate instances where you cried but there’s no way he knows that.

 “I forgave you, because you’re you,” you smile and grab his hand, both of yours fitting in his outstretched hand, “Even if you act like a dipshit sometimes.”

His eyes start to get shinier as he squeezes your hands, “That’s so fuckin’ stupid,” he presses his molars against each other, “you’re so fuckin’ stupid for that.” 

“I’m so fuckin’ stupid?” You laugh and grab his jaw to relax it, “You’re stupid, what are we doing on the beach in the middle of the night? You’re usually home by now.”

Bakugou’s jaw loosens and he sighs, moving his face closer to yours. You freeze, your heartbeat thumping through your whole body as he presses his forehead to yours. He stares directly into your eyes and he’s all you can see. Soft exhales meeting yours, the waves crashing behind him, your hand in his. 

“I am,” he says, “I am home.”

Katsuki lifts his hands to your face, cradling your cheeks, “Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

You nod and as his lips press to yours, you realize there’s nowhere you can think of as home but him.

ichigo for strawb ;P

#why do i keep making bkg read yuri??? because he’s me and i’m him goodnight #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #tw alcohol #tw violence #this fic is so long help me #matcha writes

[the-mic-drop]

Ok, I was thinking about the Sonic trio and how they're weirdly similar to WWE's Shield. Then I thought about the Shield's breakup, but with Sonic and...

Ok, for those aware of both worlds, it's the Shield breakup, but with these switches:

Dean=Sonic

Roman=Knuckles

Seth=Tails

Triple H=Eggman

Randy=Shadow or something, I don't fuckin know

For Sonic fans, please allow me to paint you a picture.

Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles are on a city rooftop at night, having just emphatically beaten Robotnik earlier that day. The three heroes look up and see a news helicopter just before Eggman appears in one of his many airships with Shadow.

He condescendingly applauds them on their victory over him as Tails retrieves a new energy blaster from hammerspace. The doctor then warns them to not get too comfortable with their success, for he always has a plan B.

It is at this time that Tails raises his blaster, pulls the trigger, and hits his target square in the back. Knuckles falls to his knees, then flat forward.

Millions of people exclaim at their screens in an unnamed emotion as Sonic can only stare slack-jawed at his fallen comrade before turning to Tails, who in that moment can no longer be called a friend, but cannot possibly be an adversary. Much in the same way being suddenly shot takes a moment to register before pain activates.

Without a cause, without a thought, Sonic tries to rush Tails, make sure he can never shoot again. Tails shoots Sonic square in the chest, causing him to stagger to a knee. The ever-calculating Tails does not wait a moment before shooting Sonic once more, in the face this time.

The news anchors have fallen silent. The city has fallen silent. The only sound in the world is the cruel cackling of Dr. Robotnik.

Tails the Fox turns to Eggman's ship and starts to walk towards it as an entrance ramp lowers where Shadow waits to meet him. They both watch with stone faces as Eggman's ship bombard the two heroes and fly off into the night.

Can you. Fucking. IMAGINE?

FUCK

#Sonic #WWE #The Shield #dean ambrose #roman reigns #seth rollins #Sonic the Hedgehog #Tails the Fox #Knuckles the Echidna #Miles Prower #daydream #pro wrestling

[witchfall]

thread

summary: They say she invented the harpsichord. The melody of birds.

(He won't remember this when he is born again.)

(And he is born again.)

---

Also on AO3

SPOILERS FOR SHADOWBRINGERS WITHIN.

{inspired by Tales from the Shadows, the new Keane album, and my general instinct to go absolutely ape shit over past lives/memories. beyond that i have no fuckin idea where this came from lmao. except some wild conjecture @vaniccio and I have about What It Could All Mean re: the future of the FFXIV MSQ.

WoL x Exarch and the strange friendship of Emet-Selch and an unnamed member of the Convocation...}

---

You are eight years old when you first realize the world is not the way it is supposed to be.

You don't understand the shattering incongruence of your thoughts as you watch the water run down the shower wall, but you suddenly know the world is different now. You see its crushing dullness. What is the point? Why do the people in this world even try to live? It is beautiful, but it is wrong. Like when a baby chocobo spooks and your friend falls and skids their elbows horribly bloody. You can't stop looking.

You stumble out of the shower and grab your towel, for you are big enough to do this on your own, and you run to the living room. Your wet feet slap the metal floors of the airship; in the distance you can hear Ma singing. Your hands feel hot. You squeeze them in and out of fists. Maybe this is what Ma means, when she sings about heartbreak. You feel shattered.

Ma is speaking animatedly about something. "But don't you think the chord progression is off?" she says. Da, sitting in a nearby chair with a tome in his lap, lifts his hands in assent, or perhaps the act of giving in.

"I've only ever been a scholar to your ear, my darling," he says, in the tone you know means he loves her even when she can be frustrating. You know that because he's used that tone on you many times.

"Oh, you're no -- " Ma starts, but then she sees you. She stops talking at once. She is by your side in three steps and tightens your towel cape at your collarbone. She kneels by you. She smells like Gramma's cookie spices. "You forgot your clothes, silly boy," she says softly, smiling warmly upon you, and it makes your eyes well up.

When you tell Ma about the thoughts and the weirdness -- Does it all matter? Is the world actually bad? -- she pulls you into her arms. She is warm and her skin squishes under your fingers and you sink your tears into her shoulder.

"Some things feel very big in our hearts," Ma says. Her voice reminds you of birds, sometimes, which makes you laugh and want to cry more. You don't know why. "Some things are hard for our souls to let go."

"My soul," you say, working through the bigness of that.

She smiles. She pushes your hair from your eyes and teases you about a haircut and tickles your ears and smothers your face in embarrassing kisses until you laugh and the thing around your heart relaxes just enough.

Ma rises to her feet. "I’m gonna go get your clothes, okay?" You nod.

Da has been standing there the whole time, watching. But then Da levels with you. Da's eyes are red like the pretty earrings Ma wears sometimes. Very red. Like you could fall into them forever.

"Souls are very strange," he says. He lays his hands on your shoulders. "I believe some of them even have memories."

You find this interesting. Your ears flick. "Was I thinking about a soul memory?"

Da makes the face you and Ma call the Old Man Sad Face. His eyes go out of focus and his mouth tilts into a smile with no mirth. He leans in, whispering a secret: "Maybe. What do you think?"

You aren't sure what Da wants you to say. You just shrug.

---

You love nothing in the world more than listening to Ma sing. You like it best when you are playing in the airship’s many halls and you hear it echoing from a lower floor, bubbling through the metal like steam. When no one is around to look, you’ll lay your head against the floor and feel transported very far away. You imagine the strangest things: lights that climb the sky. Buildings that shadow everything. A million, thousand stars. People cheering in auditoriums you have never seen...

“When did you first know you’d get married?” you like to ask Da. This time you ask while looking out over Aunt Lyna’s garden. The wind tosses your hair about and the air smells of roses.

“The first time she sang,” Da says.

Ma laughs every time at this. I was just 19. We were children. But Da always smiles. It’s alright. It’s always taken you a little bit to catch up to me. And then she whacks him with a spoon or something.

But you like to ask because it feels right, when he says that. Ma always tells the story of how Da reached through time and space to save her, and it is the best story of all time because it not only has travel through time and space but also Ma being awesome and killing monsters and bringing the night sky back. Then, then! She somehow reaches back through time and space to free Da from a tower, like a prince in a story. And then they get married and you’re born. It’s amazing.

“Your Da saved me so many times,” she says, when she tells you this story. You are sitting together, watching Da tell a frustrated Aunt Lyna how to plant a cabbage. “He’ll never admit it. But I think he is the more interesting character in that story.”

She says that, of course, and you nod. But you can’t help but think: If Ma’d been silent -- if Ma had never sang to Da, just the once -- there would be no world. You never would have been born.

---

You don't know much, but you know that Ma and Da are complicated.

One time when you were supposed to be sleeping you heard Ma talking about Da like he was once made of crystal. Sometimes I wonder if I'll wake and I'll still lose you to it, she said. Like it knows somehow that its supposed to take you back. The tower. I'll wake up and you'll be all crystalline and silent.

Oh no, Da said. We’re over. I left it at the first chance to find you again, love. I don't think it wants me like that anymore.

...you make it sound jealous.

Maybe it is.

They muttered together quietly until they started kissing, you're pretty sure, so you ran away immediately.

But this was very strange. Da is squishy and warm and has two blood red eyes and a tattoo on his arm and his neck and is not at all a man of crystal. You ask about this tattoo. He says it was from his time at school. You squint at this. You hope school does not make you get a tattoo, too. Everyone says you look like Da, except Da, who says you look like Ma, but they both have reddish hair and pale skin so it doesn't make a lot of difference to you. You even have one each of their eyes: one red and one seaglass green.

Ma has more wrinkles around her eyes and deep scratches on her face. She has a ragged, old gash on her shoulder. A few old burn marks here and there. Strange gold lines on her wrists where her veins should be. It makes you feel weird. Whenever you see them, you feel outside your own body with fascination and fury at whoever did this to Ma.

Not long after you overhear that, you get a terrible scratch by meddling with something in the engine room. So you decide to ask after her scars. Usually, she just laughs and tells you a big story about fighting a monster.

This time, Ma frowns. She touches your cheek and meets your gaze. Maybe it’s because she was talking about Da being a crystal man. Maybe she is just feeling sad. You don’t know.

"I fought in a lot of wars," she says. "I had to protect a lot of people. Because I was strong. And that's what strong people do."

You nod seriously. That's right. That's what all the heroes in all the tales do.

"I had to kill many people, too," she says.

You frown. "They were bad, though." Who would fight Ma, except people who were bad? Anyone that tried to hurt Ma deserved to die. You feel only a little guilt, thinking that.

Ma places her hand between your ears. Her eyes are dark and serious. "Not all of them, baby. Most of them were just...on the wrong side. Most of them thought that they were good."

Your heart speeds up. Your throat feels dry. "But they had to be bad," you say. "You're not bad, Ma."

She smiles down at you, but there's something broken about it. She rubs your ear. She says nothing for a long time, and guilt weighs on you in a thousand ways you do not understand. You think to run or squeeze her in a hug until she can't breathe but you are pinned by her gaze and so you do nothing. She says: "All we can do is try, my sweet pie."

And then she leans in very close, smiling as if she hadn't said anything at all. "Want to find the cookies I think your Da is hiding from us?"

You smile back, heart flying, and then she squeezes you in a hug instead. You feel forgiven and forgiveness in turn. Maybe you'll never know why.

---

They say she invented the harpsichord.

(He won't remember this when he is born again.)

The melody of birds.

(Maybe he doesn't deserve to be born again. Maybe that is his punishment.)

He still listens for it.

(But perhaps the weight of freedom would be most damning. The proof he had been wrong all along.)

---

You wake up and run to Da. As usual, he is already awake as if waiting for you to come to him, sitting on the observation deck of the airship and staring at the stars through great, rounded glass. The ship does not fly at night.

He turns toward the sound of your footsteps and beckons you to join him. You scramble onto his lap, suddenly feeling too cold to sit by him with dignity.

Da reminds you of the tales about mages in ancient cities that were swallowed up by water. Mages that knew everything there was to know. The gods smote them for knowing too many things. You hope very much that they do not turn their eyes upon Da.

"Trouble sleeping, my dear one?"

You nod into his chest. He wraps his warm arms around you and hums softly for a few moments, stroking your hair.

"Da," you say. "Where do people go when they die?"

Da takes a big breath and you move as his chest rises. His humming stops but he continues to stroke your hair. "Thinking deep thoughts tonight?" he asks, voice warm.

You 'hmph' against his chest.

"They go to the Lifestream. Though there is still much we do not know and may never know..."

"Do people know each other there?"

Da's hand falls still on your back. If this were Ma, she would begin asking why you want to know this so bad, but Da never does that. He answers your questions plainly. "We don't know. You live in a...much changed world, from when I was small."

You are unsure what to make of that.

"But that means there’s so many more worlds for you to know,” he says. “For you to explore. You know how we sometimes have to be very careful and sit still in our chairs? How the world around our airship goes Purple Wavy?"

You nod. "When we go between the worlds."

"Yes. We couldn't always do that, you know. Before you were born...it was all very complicated but the worlds were all closed. Now we can do Purple Wavy and get there. And maybe one day that will include the Lifestream."

"And then I will find you and Ma and Gramma and then it'll be fine," you say, explaining this anxiety before you can even name it.

Da holds you tightly to him. "I have no doubts," he says, deep and warm. You don't look to see, but Da is looking up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. You are feeling sleepy again so you don't notice.

"When are we getting to Uncle Alphinaud? And Alisaie?" you ask.

"After you sleep tonight, love. One more sleep left."

"One more sleep until more books," you say, and that's all you remember before you drift off. When you wake up, you're tucked back in your bed. You think of the birds singing just outside your little window.

---

They say she invented the heart of music.

She wrote the tragedy about painters and light; it ends with a father giving in to the river of time. She wrote the comedy where three people marry in an explosion of color so beautiful that people in the audience sobbed. ("It is still, technically, a comedy," she would say when pressed.) She wrote music like velvet against the skin, heavy and sumptuous. She would pick your gaze apart in silence, distill you into notes that sung so high you'd see violet. The Convocation respected beauty, once -- respected creation that reached inside you and tore your heart from your ribs so you could examine it better.

This girl is not her.

This girl sings dirges and arias and poorly-paced limericks, yes, but her soul doesn't pull apart with each new composition. The world shifts around her, certainly, but the air no longer shimmers when she works. This girl doesn't sob over coffee because a boor called her latest draft "uninspired." This girl isn't her.

(Perhaps that is one subtle gift of the sundering. The world ends each day in little ways but they still believe in the promise of tomorrow.)

"Fond of her, are you?"

The Exarch had deigned him with silence, then, but Hades knows the truth. Even in this life, the souls around her are pulled toward her suffering brightness. In these last moments of his life, aether seeping from the gash in his body, he realizes they would have perished before her original glory.

He wishes for that. To be scalded, even a little bit, by her grace.

He fades into the light, and can only hope.

---

Your world is many places crossing the great sky. Your world is here in the airship with Ma and Da and maybe a sister soon, or so Ma keeps saying. You press your hands against the glass and hope you'll remember this always -- the way the world looks, perfect and green, as you fly over it like birds.

"What are you thinkin’ about so hard, cutie?"

Ma tousles your hair. Your love for her feels like it will eat the whole world.

"Nothin," you say. You look up at her and grin. "Just stories."

#ffxiv #ffxiv writing #crystal exarch x wol #crystal exarch #emet-selch #shadowbringers #shadowbringers spoilers #otp: upon an eternal wind #kathryn writes

[dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition]

Taz au where the taaco twins have a secret third sibling

that’s canon it’s just magnus. like it is absolutely the thor: ragnarok sibling dynamic of Wild Goth Necromancer + Weird Gay Trickster + Sunshine Puppy Women’s Studies Major.

anyway rolling off of that, because i’m myself:

scrappy orphan rebellious tween runs off after the dog, ass still thouroughly kicked. he’s injured, yeah, but he catches up with the dog right by the caravans just outside of town.

“this your dog?” asks a Cool Looking Elf.

“yes,” lies a Child Who Is Maybe Already Hero-Worshipping this woman

“what’s wrong with your face?”

“got in a fight.”

“you win?”

“nah.”

lup’s got a soft spot for caravan kids, see. she sees herself in this one, even more than usual.

“do you wanna,” she asks, “Uh. you and your dog, hitch a ride? my brother and i can hide you.”

“i’m magnus,” he says.

taako is obviously less willing to take in this weird human child, because, uh. duh. they’re ditching this joint as soon as they’re accepted to the institute. they can’t take n a dependent now.

36 hours later, “i’ve only had mango for a day and a half but if anything happened to him i’d kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

the twins get accepted, natch. so they’re like, “okay, dude, you and your dog,” (still unnamed, because taako said ‘fluffy’ was stupid and magnus is too intimidated by a Cool Adult to disagree. they’ll later settle on artemis, artie for short), “are good here, right?” and he’s like, oh, fuck yeah, guys, i’m– “nevermind,” says lup, as soon as he starts.

so. things go about as you’d expect. the twins are top of their class. taako tries to teach The Boy some level of magic. and he’s only really got divination, but, like, hey. that’s something. he’s better at fuckin around with an axe than he is at magic, and he’s better with animals than he is with either of those things.

it’s a mutual protection, between the three of them. someone asks lup why she’s lugging around some oaf, and she hits them with a fireball. taako helps mags transition. magnus kicks greg grimmauldis’ ass.

and the institute takes him, too–he’s not as intellectually gifted as his siblings, but kid’s got bonds oozing out of him, a hell of a fighting spirit, and since their biologist is focused on flora, it’d be nice to have a fauna guy.

and so: they set off.

“we still got each other,” he tells the twins, when their home is destroyed. “i got your backs, you got mine.”

“put a fuckin’ shirt on, asshole,” says taako.

the century goes about as you’d epet. magnus probably dies a little less, given that taako, at the very least, drilled some caution into that motherfucker’s brain. lup still becomes a lich, but magnus, specifically, is pissed off about it. he already has such limited time with them. once they get out of this. why would she extend her life even more? but it’s fine. it’s cool. he gets it, sure, yeah. 

the boys… don’t do so well, when lup disappears, though. magnus throws himself into woodworking, into taking care of the dog, of the fish. this interferes with lucretia, but not enough to stop her from—

well. steven and julia aren’t gonna turn down an apprentice and a free chef, right?

“he’s my brother,” says taako, “i took him in when he was fuckin’ two feet tall.”

“i was ten,” magnus argues, “and i was four-foot-eight, thank you.”

julia and taako get on like a house on fire.

only one of them survives a literal house on fire, though.

magnus aging is weird. he looks older than taako now. bad and wrong.

it’s not just years, but mourning. he wears scars and dark-circles like they’ve always been there. magnus, still that kid, looks fuckin ancient.

so on, so forth. so it goes, so it goes, and–

well, not much changes from here on out. right?

they take in angus a helluva lot faster, though.

#taz #taz au #Anonymous #Welcome To My Brother My Brother And Me (Lup Your Sister) An Advice Show For The Modren Era

[spectralrowan]

A Run Down of the Faction Dynamics in Mayview

Paranatural has a complex political landscape despite the humor and cartoony style. Let’s see if we can organize it all out. I will update this and reblog it as new information comes out. This is really fuckin long so let’s put a lil Keep Reading there. Also, this also covers some interpersonal relationships. I hope this is lucid enough- let me know if the Activity Club paragraphs are too difficult to read, I’ll figure something out, hopefully.

The Activity Consortium

Named Members: Boss Leader (Leader), Agent Walker, Richard Spender, Agent Day, Mina Zarei(?), The Doctors Burger

Unnamed: Manlizard, Gangster Lady, Day’s Mentor, the two spectral guarding the ghost train

Affiliations: Maxwell Puckett, Zarei’s Faction

Alliances: Cousinhood of Man (Temporary), Activity Club, Zarei’s Faction, Guerra’s Dojo 

Enemies: Cousinhood of Man (At least disliked), Angel’s Faction (Currently Unknown)

Overview: A large organization of spectral run by the enigmatic Boss Leader, true identity unknown, who united them all with her spirit’s dream powers. It works to keep spirits under control and from causing damage on a worldwide scale. Suspicious of Mayview and of Spender- possibly of Zarei as well. Thinks the Cousinhood of Man is “like, really super icky” and “dangerous”, but is investigating Mayview to satisfy them. Keeps Isaac in the dark, describes this as “unfortunate”. Attempted to recruit Max as a spy against Spender. Spender says that the person who created the barrier is an old colleague of his, but it’s unknown whether that colleague was part of the Consortium. They have sent Agent Day, pupil of Agent Walker (not her first mentor), to investigate all of Mayview’s mysteries. 

The Activity Club

Named Members: Richard Spender (Leader), Isabel Guerra, Edward Burger, Isaac O’Connor, Maxwell Puckett

Alliances: Varies from member to member. Activity Consortium is official. Dmitri Danger (Previous Member)

Overview: Honestly, I barely count the Club as a faction. Each member has their own set of complex relations with each other and the others around them, and they don’t seem to function as a cohesive unit at all. They have a couch in their club room, though it’s not allowed, and have tapped school security. Each member seems to count as their own faction, and this will be represented by a bulleted list. Spender created it- and if you believe Lucifer, it was out of loneliness.

Max- Max seems to have no faith in, trust for, or respect for Spender, and will not act loyally towards him. -- While Max is technically a member of the Activity Consortium, he does not follow their orders and doesn’t seem to consider himself a part, despite having his own room, but also has complied with BL’s request to keep their meeting and his membership a secret from Spender and Isaac- though he has not trusted any of the other members with it either. Affliliation. -- Max seems to have the closest positive relationship with Isabel after the events of chapter four, but all relationships are still new with him. Alliance. -- Max’s most complex relationship among the club is with Isaac- despite having interacted the most frequently, Isaac seemed to make Max uncomfortable at the beginning, frequently snarking. (This has been recognized as a defense mechanism by Isaac- “Max scared. Max lash out. Max words.”) However, Max seemed to grow more comfortable with Isaac over time- they’re currently in the middle of a spat, though Max has shown a want to be friends with Isaac and has reached out to him. Max joined the Club on Isaac’s behest. Also seems protective of Isaac and very in-tune with his emotions. Alliance. -- Max doesn’t seem to have any relationship with Ed, as they’ve barely interacted. Affiliation. -- While Max’s relationship with Johnny got out to a rocky start, he seems to have befriended the bully and earned his respect, and seems to be very fond of Johnny- this will be considered an Alliance. -- Maxwell is being hunted by Suzy for not joining the Journalism Club, and is still possibly being sought as a member. He has been blackmailed by her and doesn’t seem to like her whatsoever- this dislike also seems to extend to Collin, making the J Club overall an Enemy. -- Max seems to get along with Dmitri well enough, due to his more chilled out personality compared to a lot of the other Mayview students. However, Max also doesn’t seem to have much of an opinion on him. Max will work closely with Dmitri, and seems offended to think that Max would reveal Dmitri’s identity as a spectral, making this best categorized as an Affiliation with Dmitri. Max is being blackmailed and controlled by Lisa- he seems freaked out by her and dislikes her charging practices, though he also seems to have a healthy relationship for her and her power. Lisa is an Enemy. -- He’s friendly with Alex, and though he doesn’t trust her, he has apparently extended a hand of friendship, making her a tenuous Ally. -- Max and the Student Council consider themselves Enemies, though the SC seeks his membership. -- Max doesn’t know of the extent of Cody’s membership in the SC, though seems to consider him decent enough while not trusting him whatsoever, making this a likely Affiliation. -- Sam and Damien (”Doghouse”) are Max’s old friends from the “big city” of Baxborough, and though he hasn't informed him of his new status, he wants to see them again and still holds them close to his heart- this is an affiliation, but also a potential alliance if they come into prominence in the story. -- Max seems to know Day fairly well, and it’s theorized that she is the babysitter in his flashback- if so, this is an affiliation. -- Max doesn’t know BERG is possessing him. BERG’s intentions are unknown, so this is an affiliation. -- PJ and Lefty live with Max, and Max has situated himself as one of PJ’s defenders and seems to think of him as a little brother. They are an alliance, though PJ will likely feel incredibly betrayed if Max chooses not to give PJ access to a tool or can’t provide one after building up his hopes. This could possibly cause a break of alliance, despite PJ’s eagerness to help Max out and his assistance through chapter 5.

Isabel- Isabel seems to have grown up with Spender and holds him in high respect, referring to him as an “action hero”. She trusts him implicitly and has his back- this is an alliance. -- Isabel’s best friend within the club is Ed. Though they’re going through a tough time as of chapter five, it seems that Isabel is in the process of forgiving Ed and their friendship is restored- this is an alliance, though one which has been untrustworthy in the past, it seems to be more reliable than ever. -- Max is Isabel’s second best friend within the club, and she seems to be fiercely protective over him now that Eightfold has sacrificed herself for Isabel to save him- alliance. -- Isaac is Isabel’s rockiest friendship, and they seem to argue in their conversations more than anything, especially now that Max is in the picture. While they seem to get along well in calmer moments- “you look like a brooding anti-hero”- this mostly seems to be due to Isabel’s attempts to reach out, and it’s shown that she’s getting fed up with his attitude, and justifiably so. While they can get along and work together, it’s more precarious and they don’t seem to want to be around each other. Isabel is shown to pay a decent amount of attention to Isaac’s interests in an attempt to reach out as well. However, Isabel also seems traumatized by whatever happened to do with isaac in the club and has repressed those feelings- and it seems she feels her emotions on that regard have been neglected as well, by Isaac especially. However, she still considers Isaac a friend. Affiliation. -- Isabel’s relationship with her grandfather has been shown to be very negative, with Francisco holding her to impossibly high standards compared with the rest of his students, especially Ed, and he tends to devalue the things that she likes, including the people that she likes. His cruel view towards spirits has subconsciously rubbed off on her, as pointed out by Eightfold, though it’s more subtle. Guerra’s relationship with her is a very negative, possibly abusive alliance. -- Isabel lives alongside her Grandfather’s students. Though not much is known on that end overall, they’ve never stuck up for her, whether out of fear of her grandfather or not, use her greatest fears against her with no protest, and have been shown to mock her. This is a negative affiliation. -- Eightfold was Isabel’s original spirit partner, and was lost beneath the Earth in chapter four. However, she is not classed as deceased, just lost. Despite Isabel’s upbringing, she and Eightfold had a very positive relationship, considering each other ‘best friends’ and being willing to risk their lives for each other. Though Isabel is only just realizing and overcoming the prejudices she was raised with, she and Eightfold have a very positive alliance. -- Flipflop is Isabel;’s newest spirit, and the ‘replacement’ for Eightfold. While Isabel doesn’t seem too impressed by Flipflop, this is likely due mostly due to her grief for Eightfold. Isabel has been shown to be somewhat encouraging towards Flipflop and their relationship is starting out positive. Alliance. -- Isabel thinks Zarei is creepy, but was helped by her. While Isabel’s opinion started to turn while Hijack was still disguised as Spender, it’s likely reverted now that Hijack’s deception has been revealed. No relation currently, though Zarei wants to build an alliance. *Additional note: we haven’t seen any of Isabel’s social life outside of the AC. It’s possibly being implied that she doesn’t really have friends, merely acquaintances. Though, she is referred to as one of the cool kids by Alex. Also, it’s implied that at least Isabel’s father is still alive and familiar, but her mother is unknown Isabel’s dad and her grandfather do not get along- they “hate” each other, or at least Francisco hates him. 

Ed- Ed is the student in the Activity Club we know the least about. He seems to be friends with Jeff, Cody, and Violet, though he’s not as close to them as he is the other members of the Activity Club. Ed is self-described as having “lots of friends”. This can be considered an affiliation. -- Ed seems to get along well with Max, but the most thoughts we’ve seen about Max seem to be of the jealous variety, with Ed not seeming to be considering Max much at all outside of the club. This is an affiliation. -- Ed doesn’t seem close to Isaac, and we haven’t seen much of their interactions. They seem friendly enough. Affiliation. -- Ed seems to trust Spender, though their relationship doesn’t seem to be to the extent of Spender and Isabel’s. Affiliation. -- Isabel is Ed’s closest friend, and they live together with Francisco. They’re shown to be a cohesive team and are very rarely shown apart unless they’re somehow separated, like in chapter four with the split teams, or in the training scenes where Ed isn’t involved. Ed seems to want to be by Isabel’s side whenever he can, even if it’s tactically disadvantageous. He broke Isabel’s trust before, but he has earned it back. Considers himself a Guerra. Strong Alliance. -- Muse is Ed’s spirit. Muse doesn’t seem fond of Ed, though Ed looks up to Muse and asks for advice. Muse is borderline disdainful, and Ed is either ignorant or ignoring that. Despite that, they work together and Muse seems to be invested in Ed’s growth. Alliance. -- Fransisco is raising Ed, likely as a favor to the Consortium after the disappearance of the Doctors Burger. Fransisco seems entirely uninvested in Ed and openly dislikes him, referring to him as the ‘freeloader’ and neglecting Ed’s training, and likely Ed’s wellbeing in general. This is a negative affiliation. -- Ed recently has formed a positive relationship with Johnny and RJ. Johnny confided his thoughts in Ed, and RJ allowed their backstory to be told to him. They worked together and parted on a positive note, despite Ed causing them to get detention. Currently classed as an alliance.

Isaac- While Isaac is resentful and angry towards Spender for his unexplained treatment of Isaac and poor field teaching methods, Isaac also is shown to crave Spender’s attention and praise. Isaac is also frequently dismissed and put down by Spender. Spender seems entirely ignorant towards this and the way Isaac’s emotions have been festering towards him and the team, though Isaac would not betray the team- he longs for their acceptance, and feels that he “broke up the team” and takes responsibility for the rift between them. He feels the entire team, including the responsible adult, mocks him. This is a negative alliance. *Note: this is classified as an alliance due to Isaac’s reliance on Spender for information. While it isn't a relationship of willing help, it’s more than just an affiliation. -- Isaac seems to think Isabel and Ed hate him, though he may have realized due to recent arguments that this is not the case. Regardless, he resents them for this perceived hatred and disdain, and for how they keep him in the dark with Spender. It seems that while he longs for their approval and friendship, he also wants to split off on his own ,a d has expressed that he could “easily destroy them both”, implying that his resentment has been at the place where he put thought into that outcome. His relationship with them is a tense negative affiliation. -- Isaac’s friendship with Max has been rather hot and cold. Isaac seems to see their friendship as one made of favors to be traded around, while also genuinely wanting him and Max to be true friends. He saw Max as his only ally within the Club before their argument, but they seem to be making up and forging a much healthier and more sustainable friendship. Has reached out to Max, and it’s likely a full make up is soon or implied. Due to many factors, I’m classing this as an alliance. -- Isaac’s relationship with King C is iffy. Isaac seems to have a lot of genuine dislike for King C, especially with King C’s encouragement of the qualities Isaac doesn’t like within himself- his overwhelming anger and penchant for violent outbursts- and how he puts down one of the only positive figured we’ve been shown for Isaac, Doorman. However, King C is likely the reason Isaac knows Doorman in the first place. I’m unsure of how to class this one, but my gut says affiliation. -- Doorman is one of the only two more positive figures in Isaac’s life that we’ve been shown, alongside Max. Doorman acts as a mentor figure towards Isaac, and Isaac holds no small amount of loyalty and love for Doorman. Doorman seems to want to “do good by” Isaac, and genuinely cares, though Doorman’s conversations with Isaac can be interpreted as manipulative, depending on the reader. This is a strong alliance, though Isaac is ignorant to Doorman’s faction activities. -- Isaac hasn’t interacted with Zarei much, but he seems to have inklings of respect and interest in her, as she subtly reached out to him in chapter 5. However, this relationship cannot be classed as of yet.

Spender’s Faction

Named Members: Richard Spender (Leader), Lucifer, Mr. Garcia (Possibly an affiliation)

Affiliations: Shadow Spirit, Guerra, Dr. Zarei (Potentially)

Alliances: Zarei’s Faction (Potentially)

Overview: The goals of Spender’s faction is unknown, though it seems to be involved with an incident that happened thirteen years ago when Spender was a child, and protecting the secrets of Mayview. It also has something to do with the shadowy, extremely powerful spirit that possesses Spender. Lucifer is a mentor and ally, and Garcia is Spender’s boyfriend, though it’s unknown how much Garcia is involved- Spender seems to want him staying out of Spectral business. While Spender is rejecting Zarei’s help, Lucifer is attempting to engineer an alliance using Hijack as an ambassador. Spender also confides in his former mentor and teacher, Francisco, though Francisco holds no loyalty towards Spender and Lucifer views the trust Spender’s put in the old man as extremely ill advised. Spender believes he is working for the greater good, but fears that he’ll accidentally stray to evil. However, he seems to wander a lot- Lucifer spells this out clearly. Lucifer apparently saved Spender from drowning thirteen years ago- or as he puts it, “pulled out of that lake”. Spender says that the person who created the barrier is an old colleague of his, but it’s unknown whether that colleague was part of the Consortium. Spender believes the barrier is very necessary, though it’s unknown if it’s keeping something out or in. Spender and his own know of something horrible that happened in Mayview thirteen years ago involving as of yet unexplained supernatural phenomena, and know it will happen again- Spender is working to either prevent it or to make sure Mayview survives it. To “save” Mayview. Seems to have some sort of petty grudge against Zarei, who used to be a close friend and ally. Lucifer seems hopeless about the situation and believes them all doomed, as if he knows or has realized something Spender doesn’t, hasn’t, or refuses to acknowledge.

Angel’s Faction

Named Members: Doorman, King C, Nin

Unnamed Members: The Ninja Bunnies, The Angel (Leader)

Affiliations: Forge, Isaac O’Connor

Enemies: BERG’s Faction, Activity Consortium/Spender’s Faction, The Cult

Overview: The Angel’s goals and motivations are unknown. She seems to be viewed as some great good by the spirits associated with her. She seems to want a good deal of power inside Mayview, and a way in and out, having brought in King C, Forge, and others besides them- King C is referred to as a “storm god”, and the bunnies make reference to a “sorcerer”. Forge was being brought in as a mercenary, hoping the Angel can give him what he wants. Doorman seems to view BERG as an enemy that should not be either in Mayview or in this world at all, and seems genuinely frightened of them. Though it’s implied that most of the imported spirits have been taken down by Spender, and this within Mayview view him as a renowned enemy, Spender doesn’t seem to know of their presence, and it’s unknown if the Consortium is their enemy, if Spender is a genuine enemy, or if they’re just troublesome obstacles. They seem at odds with the Cult, as they don’t want the vile spirits around them. It’s possible that the Angel doesn't feel fear, as suggested by BERG’s dialogue. They consider themselves the good guys. Angel is supposedly an angel of life and beauty. However, Angel’s faction also doesn’t seem too positive on humans. *Note: King C’s presence in Isaac seems to be the reason Isaac is being kept in the dark. As King C can see and hear whatever Isaac doesn't, the only way to keep important information about the Consortium from leaking is to keep Isaac in the dark. This is what BL means by saying that Isaac’s situation is “unfortunate”. This is also why I’ve placed Angel and the Consortium as enemies.

Davy’s Faction

Named Members: Davy Jones (Leader)

Affiliations: Cody Jones, Lisa (Possibly), Lefty (Possibly), PJ (possibly)

Alliances: Student Council (In a way)

Enemies: The Witch, Cousinhood of Man

Overview: Davy is a vampire, and a former spectral. He claims to keep some sort of peace in Mayview, though that doesn’t seem to involve spirits, implying that he keeps it peaceful in relation to something else. Cody Jones is his son, and their relationship seems somewhat tense in the scenes we’ve seen. It’s theorized that Davy and PJ are related in some way, and that Lefty is the ghost of Davy’s missing hand. PJ seems somewhat old fashioned, and he possibly died a while ago- time is unconfirmed. Lefty also has grey energy, like Davy. It’s also theorized that Lisa is related to Davy, possibly as Lisa’s sister. He references a witch that he wishes to keep power from, and as he and Cody are monsters, they want to avoid the attention of the Cousinhood of Man. Davy and Cody must follow vampire rules, though it is unknown which ones Cody has to follow. It is confirmed that Cody must follow any of Davy’s orders. Monsters, regardless of type, are known as “corrupted humans”. Davy apparently owns a local business and possibly provides the school with funding. Davy claims the entire town as “his”- though it’s unclear in exactly what fashion he views it as belonging to him- likely economically in some way due to dialogue, but it definitely has to do with how he “keeps the peace” for Cody. Davy also may have some psychic connection to Cody, as he claims he came to the school after feeling Cody’s heart beat quickly.

The Student Council 

Named Members: Cody Jones (Leader), the 12 Black Saint Councilor-Guardians (all currency unnamed), The Six Dozen Black Saint Sub-Councilor Lieutenant Generals, Serge

Unnamed Members: the two members with faces, unnamed unclear silhouettes on CH5P288

Affiliations: Principal, Vice Principal

Alliances: The Witch (Possibly), Journalism Club

Enemies: Lisa’s Rebellion, Journalism Club 

Overview: While it used to be a normal student council, after the “secret ballot” election and the rise of Cody Jones to Council President, it has become a militant organization that passes “COLLIN QUOTE” and exploits the council’s powers. While under the influence of the Principal, she has no real power. The Vice Principal, who seems to be the Witch, is aligned with the SC and works with them frequently to take down troublemakers and to fill detention with students. Cody’s motivations on this are unclear. It’s unclear whether the school counts as Cody’s territory or the Witch’s, though it seems to act as Cody’s territory when it comes to vampire rules. It’s notable that if the VP is indeed the Witch, then Cody seems to work with her while his father works against her to keep her from gaining any more power. Lisa’s Rebellion is in direct opposition to the SC’s iron grip on the school, and while the J Club seems to be attempting to find out the SC’s secrets, if Collin’s Comments are anything to go by, the SC also seems to use the J Club as a trusted source of information and allows them to exist. The student council seems to be gearing up for some kind of massive power struggle within the school, and it’s mentioned very ominously- very likely to come into serious play later. *Note: It’s possible Cody doesn’t have as much power as its theorized he does. While he may technically have control, quotes such as “You forfeit all your power when you don’t act the way they want you to” and “Point me in the right direction... that’s all I’m good for” suggest that, unless Cody’s acting and lying in those panels, he might be under the thumb of another being- possibly the Vice Principal/Witch. However, he does also say that he will “find a way to handle things myself if (the AC’s actions) proves insufficient” also seem to contradict those- unless Cody’s talking about risking it all for Jeff. This might also have something to do with Jeff getting out early from detention of good behavior- Cody pulling some strings.

Lisa’s Rebellion

Named Members: Lisa (Leader), Ollie Oop, Maxwell Puckett (reluctantly)

Unnamed Members: Bully silhouettes shown behind her in her rebellion intro

Affiliations: Violet

Alliances: Jang (possibly)

Enemies: Student Council, Journalism Club 

Overview: Lisa leads the rebellion against the SC, and most of her members are wrangled bullies. The hub is the saloon-like student store, where Lisa works as barkeep and employs Ollie as a guard to keep the SC out. Notably, Cody seems allowed in despite his SC membership. There seems to be a bit of bad blood between Lisa and the Journalism Club, due to Suzy making popular knowledge of the secrets Lisa gives her. Lisa, while making drinks and leading the rebellion, also works as an information broker and knows almost everything about the school. It is unknown if, and how much, Lisa knows about the supernatural goings-on of Mayview. She seems to know that there are powerful, scary people in the school. She does not seem to know that Cody is the SC president. She is currently blackmailing Max, and it is unknown what she will use her influence over him to do- she has mentioned using him for debt collection. Violet is a personal friend of Lisa’s and drinks for free.

The Cousinhood of Man

Named Members: None

Alliances: Activity Consortium (Temporary)

Enemies: Activity Consortium (At least disliked), Davey’s Faction

Overview: The Cousinhood of Man is an organization of monster hunters. Not much is known about them, other than this and the fact that the Consortium strongly dislikes them. They currently want in to Mayview, as they (correctly) suspect there is a monster (though they’re wrong on this count- there are multiple) inside. Referred to by Spender as “frenzied vigilantes”. Possibly wear uniform trenchcoats. Apparently, the monster population is dwindling. The barrier around Mayview is apparently supposed to keep monsters from crossing, as well as Cousinhood operatives. They also apparently used to be quite troublesome in Consortium affairs. 

The Evil Cult 

Named Members: None

Affiliations: Pixelhounds/Vile Spirits

Enemies: Angel’s Faction, Consortium

Overview: Almost nothing is known about these cultists. They follow someone who must be “the most evil being around”, as this being can command the vile spirits. The vile spirits are inside the barrier, though it seemed they were trying to escape Mayview in chapter four. Their motivation is unknown. Interestingly, they are shown in Dad Puckett’s imagination at the beginning of chapter 3- possibly implying a connection, as Mayview is dad puckett’s hometown. He calls them “death cultists”. They actively work against Doorman gaining any strong spirits at his side, and see fit to attempt to turn Doorman and Spender against each other.

BERG’s Faction

Named Members: None

Unnamed Members: BERG

Affiliations: Maxwell Puckett

Enemies: Angel’s Faction

Overview: The least is known about BERG’s faction, as BERG is the character we arguably have the least information about. BERG is referred to as a broken riddle god by Doorman, who fears them, and BERG seems to think this fear is justified- and that the Angel should fear them too. BERG is in a certain faction and seems to be associated with pyramids and the desert. BERG is humorless and currently possessing Max, though Max is unaware of this. BERG has some sort of title that begins with an ‘s’. 

Zarei’s Faction

Named Members: Mina Zarei (leader), Hijack (Deceased?), Hotwire, Thirteen (Deceased), Patchworm, the Ghost Train, Toolbox

Unnamed Members: King Doctopus, an emotion controlling big millipede spirit,

Affiliations: Richard Spender, Activity Consortium

Alliances: Spender’s Faction (Seeking)

Overview: The reason for Zarei’s disloyalty towards the Consortium is unknown. She is a spectral, spirit, and ghost doctor, and has the ability to create spirits. She currently lives with her parents while she’s trapped in Mayview. She seems to worry for Spender, and seeks to align herself with him, hinting that she may know more about Mayview than she lets on, or distrusts the Consortium for some reason. She may know something about the disappearance of the Doctors Burger. She appears to be well known within the Consortium. It has also been revealed that she has a bad past with the Witch, who seems to be the Vice Principal- bad enough that it makes her nervous to even be in the school, and terrified of the VP. She thought that she had previously defeated the VP/WItch, and was unaware of her presence. Something happened between her and Spender, and Spender’s petty grudge keeps them from reclaiming their friendship. Doctor Zarei is somewhat under investigation due to odd behavior such as never sharing the results of her paranatural research with her Consortium colleagues. This research is likely to be her ability to create spirits, which she wants to keep from Boss Leader for unknown reasons. She fears for the safety of her “assets”. Zarei also seems to be known by Ms. Baxter, and a friend fo Baxter’s named ‘Sophie’, and was notable enough to have an email sent out about her return. It’s also likely that the Ghost Train’s lantern was stolen from Zarei by the waitress Penny when they bumped into one another. Agent Day is attempting to use Zarei’s growing crush on her for information, though is possibly worried about developing or worsening current romantic feelings or ideations for Zarei. Zarei also seems to have lost a previous spirit companion in the form of, possessing, or represented by a sock puppet of sorts that was a close loved one and confidant when she was younger.

The Journalism Club

Named Members: Suzy (Leader), Dmitri Danger, Collin Sloinne

Unnamed Members: Faculty Advisor

Affiliations: Lisa’s Rebellion, Student Council

Enemies: Activity Club, Lisa’s Rebellion, Student Council 

Overview: Suzy leads the Journalism Club. They have a hands off Teacher patron. The newspaper is largely underfunded and unprofessional- referred to as a pamphlet, and they have no readers. Suzy has been shown to take drastic measures in order to get a story for the pamphlet. Despite the lack of, well, everything but passion, the news seems to be treated by the Council as a reliable source of information. Collin is Suzy’s self-described slave, who seems to be the most normal person in the Club, and the one who’s likely put up with Suzy the longest. Despite his general attitude, he does seem to actually take pride in his work as a reporter and enjoy the Journalism Club. Suzy seems to have a secret that she doesn’t want getting out that Lisa knows, which is implied to be her surname. The Journalism Club apparently also spies on all the other clubs. Suzy also doesn’t believe that the paper needs to tell the truth.

Subtopic: Dmitri Dmitri is the third and final member of the Journalism Club, and a spectral. Dmitri is a former member of the Activity Club, and references to him can be seen hidden through various panels up to his reveal. Dmitri, when he first became a spectral, didn’t have anyone to help him through and apparently “flipped his nuggets”. Dmitri is possessed by a ghost-like spirit called Peekaboo, who he seems to be scared of. It’s implied that something may have happened to make Dmitri very angry at Peekaboo- though the incident might be what led to Dmitri’s apparent fear of Peekaboo as well. It’s unknown whether it’s tied to the incident that’s mentioned to do with Isaac. He doesn't seem to think the AC is that bad, though.

Guerra’s Dojo 

Named Members: Francisco Guerra (Leader), Isabel Guerra, Edward Burger

Unnamed Members: Ghost Pupil, Various other pupils

Affiliations: Richard Spender (Previous Pupil), Activity Club, Spender’s Faction (shaky)

Alliances: Activity Consortium 

Overview: Fransisco Guerra runs a training dojo on the outskirts of Mayview by the forest, where he trains students for the Activity Consortium and raises his granddaughter and the possible orphan Ed.While he’s retired from the Consortium and no longer has any obligation to them , he still works for them. However, he seems reluctant to take any more students currently. He dislikes and distrusts spirits, and claims that using their powers is weak. He is specialized in the weaponization of spectral energy. He has previously mentored Spender and seems to greatly dislike him, despite keeping his secrets and possibly offering counsel. 

The Witch

Named Members: None

Unnamed Members: The Witch

Alliances: Student Council (Possibly)

Enemies: Davey’s Faction, Zarei’s Faction (Possibly), Lisa’s Rebellion (Possibly)

Overview: As of Ch5P---, The witch is implied to be the Vice Principal. She seems to inhabit the school and works closely with the SC to keep order within the school and is very offended by the idea of wearing normal clothes on pajama day. She is implied to be related to a spider, with references to her legs made, and with the school referred to as “the spider’s web”. She seems to have tormented Zarei when she was a young girl, and both Zarei and Davey seem very concerned with her.

The Jang

Named Members: Johnny Jhonny (Leader), Ollie Oop, Stephen, RJ

Affiliations: Forge

Alliances: Max, Ed

Overview: This troupe of bullies consists of the four members, led by Johnny. Johnny isn’t very smart but is known for being very strong and very resilient- Zack once made a reference to Johnny hanging himself up horizontal on a flagpole and acting like a flag. Stephen has a scar that was attained in an unknown way, and is referred to in his character bio as half hyena, though it’s unknown how literally to take that as of this moment. Stephen is known for being a huge conspiracy theorist, and has a tendency to deconstruct social norms. RJ is a silent metal rocker, and Ollie is the son of the gym coach, and the most openly intelligent of the bunch. They all are known as huge bullies, but are also remarkably friendly for bullies, with Johnny giving Max change for a dollar when collecting bullying money. They are very close emotionally and create “friendship fusions” which tend to be rather useless. They have all four seen the Activity Club, Spender, and Day riding the ghost train (aka floating), but they only recognize Max and Ed for sure- they know Isaac as “the orange haired kid”, and Spender as “the sunglasses teacher”. Johnny is possessed by Forge and is becoming a medium due to this, for which Forge feels apologetic- Forge’s intentions with Johnny are unknown, and is currently in the stage of seeing shades in pulses. Forge has been in Mayview before. Johnny has a longing to be Max’s friend, and he and RJ seem fond of Ed. The Jang seems to be the group the least politically connected and are rather ignorant of the goings-on, outside of Ollie being aligned with Lisa.

#paranatural #pnat #HOOOOOOOOO BOY #pnat politic post #this literally took all day + some breaks #and now it's 3 am and i finally finished #fuck me sideways #this ended up being both a politic and interpersonal relationship post so.... yea #god this is so fucking long