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a-path-diverged-in-the-woods · 1 year

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Welcome to "My Hero Academia: A Path Diverged in the Woods". This is a living choose your own adventure story featuring Uraraka Ochako. The adventure starts when Ochako meets Toga in the forest at Summer Camp. How will this meeting change this time around? Will they be enemies, rivals, friends or more? You decide.

There will be a poll below the cut at the bottom of each main post. Read the section and vote how you see best. When the poll finishes, new fiction will be posted based on the results of the poll. Each poll will be based on a decision Ochako is facing in the moment. The answers may not always be obvious. Further information is available pinned to this blog.

Now enjoy this tale of two girls, a hero and a villain, meeting for the first time. Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 available here.

Chapter 3: Tumbling Through the Dark of Night

“I’ll do it,” replied Ochako, locking eyes with Deku. The boy’s expression relaxed a fraction. “But I’m coming with you. I’ll be better able to know when to release if I do.”

For a moment she thought he was going to argue, but he just nodded. His mind was on saving their friends and every other thought was secondary. Anything that increased their chances, he’d take without question. As he climbed off Shoji’s back she got a full view of his arms, both completely bruised from overuse of his Quirk. Thin lines of blood were running down them from burst blood vessels. She took off her shirt.

“Here,” said Ochako. “At least use this for your arms.” Shoji took the shirt, glanced at her and she nodded. He then ripped it in half and quickly wrapped each of Deku’s arms.

Once that was done Ochako touched each of her classmates and they moved to stand around Shoji, an arm grabbing onto each of them. A third arm grew from Shoji’s back just for this purpose and took hold of Ochako. Tsu’s tongue wrapped around the group, tightening to hold them close to each other. “Activate!” said Ochako, putting her hands together. The group floated slightly off the ground as gravity stopped working. Tsu didn’t hesitate, whipping her tongue around like a lasso and flinging the group through the air where the villain had taken Bakugo and Tokoyami.

Ochako was used to being off the ground, but wished she could hold onto Shoji for dear life. Instead, she kept her eyes peeled for the villain and hands ready to come together to deactivate her Quirk. She spotted him a moment later, jumping deftly from tree to tree like a phantom thief in a movie. They quickly overtook the masked villain, and Ochako forced her hands together as they got right above him. “Release!” Gravity regained control again and the teens quickly plummeted towards the ground. They softened their fall by crashing into the masked villain and taking him to the ground. The group landed in a clearing, but Ochako barely had time to look around as a calm voice barked a command.

“Mister. Dodge.”

“Roger,” said the masked villain, somehow slithering out from underneath the teens. Ochako and the others were forced to leap away as blue fire splashed towards them, scattering them. Okacho managed to leap back without getting burnt, but Shoji and the others got caught in the flames, letting out cries of pain. Deku was forced to tuck and roll as Ochako’s shirt caught fire.

Todoroki was fine against the fire, but a villain covered in a black full body suit appeared behind him, pulling out a wire from a device at his wrist. “Some faces from Shigaraki’s hit list,” said the covered villain. “That plain looking beat-up kid and you…were not on it!” Todoroki reacted quickly, sending a blast of ice to the villain, forcing him back with a cry. “Hot, hot!

Ochako scanned the battlefield, trying to access the situation like she’d been taught. Like Deku would do. Todoroki had the strange villain well in hand and seemed unbothered by the enemy flames. She was briefly concerned for Shoji, but he regrew the skin around his burnt arm and was too agile to be caught again as another wave of flame tried to overtake him. That left Deku, who had put out the flames and was trying to get to his feet. His body was clearly about to give out on him. Unfortunately, Ochako wasn’t the only person to notice.

“Hi Izuku!” said Toga, lunging at the boy with a knife. He managed to scramble to the side and avoid her. She paused, standing over him, her knife held clasped between both hands and her expression one of glee. “You’re cute, but I think you’ll look even cuter with fresh blood. Let me help you with that.”

Ochako wasn’t going to let that happen. As Toga finished her declaration, Ochako rammed into her. Toga’s footing thrown off, Ochako grabbed her tightly, activated her Quirk and kicked off the ground as hard as she could. Toga screamed in surprise as the pair flew into the air, spinning and tumbling as they broke the tree line.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone else,” said Ochako as the stars spun around her. She held Toga as tightly as she could, her arms and legs twisted around the villain.

“Let me go,” screamed Toga, panic in her voice for the first time since they’d met. “Let me go.”

“Not until Deku rescues Bakugo and Tokoyami,” yelled Ochako. She was suddenly very grateful for the hellish training that Aizawa had put her through on the few days of the training camp that they’d had. The previous her would have already hurled and deactivated her Quirk from the spinning she was experiencing. She did still force her eyes closed. No reason to make things worse for herself.

Unfortunately, her captive passenger wasn’t quite compliant. Toga started to squirm and claw at her. She’d dropped her knives in the flipping scuffle, but a nail still found purchase and scratched Ochako’s leg, drawing a line of blood. The droplets were flung through the air as Toga’s movements made their spinning even more erratic. She held strong though. Deku was willing to break his body to save people, this was nothing compared to what he felt.

That mindset was all well and good until an elbow found purchase and Ochako lost her breath. And with it her hold over Toga and her Quirk. The pair separated as they started to freefall, once again under the tyranny of gravity. Ochako opened her eyes and saw that they were high above the ground. Much too high for anyone without an Enhancement Quirk to land without serious injury. For a moment she considered just reactivating her Quirk on herself, but she met Toga’s fearful eyes and heard the message loud and clear. “I don’t want to die.”

Ochako’s hands shot out and she wrapped them around the falling, flailing Toga. She activated her Quirk and the pair halted midair. She didn’t have the other girl in a proper hold, and she was still able to move her arms. Toga’s arms came up and Ochako expected slicing pain as her flesh was cut open again to reveal blood. She flinched in anticipation but was surprised as Toga’s arms wrapped tightly around her, drawing the other girl towards her.

The girls hovered in midair, the forest far below them and the stars shining above. As the adrenaline faded, Ochako felt the cool night air blowing over them. The girls hugged each other tighter, spots of warmth on the cool dark. Neither said anything, just breathing as they held onto each other for dear life. Ochako’s stomach tumbled and churned still, and she fought to keep her dinner down. She tried to search for signs of battle or heroes below but couldn’t find anything. There was a thin trail of smoke, but it was on the horizon. She didn’t want to think about how far they’d flown in their fight. Instead, she focused on the person in her embrace. A villain who had injured her. A girl who clung to her for dear life after nearly experiencing death.

Eventually Ochako needed to close her eyes and focused on the sounds of their breathing in unison. On the points of contact between their skin. On the scent of sweat and blood. For an unknown period of time, it became her world…

“Need a lift?” Ochako’s newly constructed world was shattered by a friendly but unfamiliar voice. She opened her eyes and saw a man hovering next to her, a pair of red wings flapping calmly behind him. He had a bright smile on his face and was holding out his hand. “If so, then this flying taxi hero is at your service.”

Ochako was too nauseous to respond. She thought if she opened her mouth to speak, she’d throw up instead. From below her came a whisper. “Please.” The boundaries of what she considered her body and self-separated again and Ochako remembered that she had a villain in her custody.

“Right away,” replied the hero. He took firm hold of both Ochako and Toga’s arms. “Neat Quirk keeping you here. That was a cool move floating those rocks in the UA Sports Tournament. Feel free to drop it, I’ve got you.”

Permission given, Ochako finally released her Quirk. There was a moment where the pair of girls fell, breaking apart, but it was quickly halted by the hero’s strong arms and what looked to be free flying feathers that hovered without assistance around each of the teens. Ochako felt the sudden loss of warmth but wasn’t able to think too much about it as nausea finally overtook her. She looked to the side and vomited. From the sounds of things, Toga was doing the same.

“Looks like both of you have been holding a lot in,” said the hero, his strong, chipper voice never faltering. “Glad that this little side trip on my way home paid off. Gravity girl, you’re in the same class as Tokoyami, right? He was my intern a little while ago. How’s Mr. Serious doing currently?”

Ochako’s stomach did another flip. She’d been so focused on keeping Toga away from everyone else that she’d forgotten about the rescue mission. She was glad that vomiting gave her a reason to not look the hero in the eye. “Last I saw he’d been captured by villains who attacked us. We were trying to rescue him when I ended up here.”

A pause. The air was heavy between the three of them as they hovered far above the ground. Not meeting each other’s eyes. Then, a heavy sigh. “I guess they saw the same potential in him that I did. Good luck getting someone that stubborn to help them though. How about we return you to your teachers and find out for ourselves how everyone is doing?”

Without waiting for a response, the hero flew through the air, Ochako and Toga held firmly beneath him. While they flew Ochako tried to see any signs of her classmates in the forest below, but all was quiet. It was only as they got closer that she made out wisps of smoke coming from a burnt section of the forest and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles. People might be moving below, but it was still hard to make out individuals. As she squinted, she felt something warm against her hand. She glanced over and saw that Toga had grabbed her hand and was squeezing it tightly. Looking up at the girl’s face showed a wide, toothy smile filled with excitement.

“I guess I get to be like Stainy,” said Toga. “Captured while fighting the heroes.” A pause, then Toga looked over and locked eyes with her. “Hey, Ochako. Do you think someone will make an inspiring video about me that will convince people to rebel against this awful world by making everything just a little bloodier and cuter?”

Ochako didn’t know and was unable to answer as the trio flew into view of the training facility building. “Keep an eye out for anyone you know,” said the hero. “We’ll touch down as close as we can. Don’t go running off when I put you down though, okay?”

“Okay,” said Ochako, feeling unsure about being on solid ground again. She’d floated so long, could she ever go back to what was before? Toga didn’t answer. Ochako realized she hadn’t told the hero that Toga was a villain. Did he think she was a student like she was? Would she be able to escape him like she had Ochako? As if in response Toga squeezed Ochako’s hand even tighter. She squeezed back. It seemed like the thing a hero would do. Toga’s grip relaxed. In the crowd of police officers, emergency responders and heroes, she finally recognized a few faces. “Over there,” she said, pointing.

“Got it,” said the hero. He shifted his flight path slightly, flying over the heads of a few responders and heroes. They all looked at him in surprise before waving. He just smiled back. As they approached where Ochako pointed, the hero called out. “Hey Tokoyami! It’s good to see you’re doing well.”

“Hawks?” asked the bird headed boy, his eyes wide. Then he noticed the other passengers. “Uraraka?”

“Clear a space,” said Aizawa, stepping forward to take charge. Ochako made out several familiar students from both Classes A and B, but they all blurred together. She realized she was exhausted now that relief at being safe was setting in.

Hawks set the teens down on solid ground. Ochako thought she’d feel relieved, but instead the ground slipped out from beneath her as the remnants of her vertigo and nausea asserted themselves. She stumbled but found herself caught and propped up. By Toga.

“Sorry about that,” said Hawks, landing next to them. The feathers that had been holding them up returned to his wings. “Forgot that you’d overused your Quirk. Good catch golden eyes.”

“Don’t move a muscle,” said Aizawa, drawing all attention to himself. His hair was on end and his eyes open and glowing red. He had his capture cloth scarf held at the ready. “Whatever your Quirk is I’ve got it erased. Release my student and come quietly.”

Hawks glanced between Aizawa and Toga. “Eraser Head, right?” asked Hawks. “Something wrong with this kid?”

“She’s not a student,” said Aizawa. “She’s a villain. Tokoyami, can you help Uraraka?”

Tokoyami nodded and walked over; an eye kept on Toga. He held out his hand to Ochako. Before she could move to take it, Toga shoved her into the boy, almost toppling them both. As she did, she tried to run, but Aizawa’s capture cloth wrapped around her as soon as Ochako was out of the way. Toga fell to the ground. Laughing.

“I get to go to the same place as Stainy,” said the villain between fits of laughter. There was a broad toothy smile on her face that failed to reach her eyes. “It’s just like the heroes to lock up a villain. To lock up someone like me. Enjoy your crush Ochako, that’s the privilege of those accepted by society!”

“Quiet down now,” said Aizawa, gesturing to a group of police officers. “No one who hurts my students gets mercy from me.”

“You definitely aren’t one to go easy even on children, are you?” asked Hawks. He glanced over to Ochako. “You holding her steady, Tokoyami?”

“Yes sir.”

A laugh. “Serious as always.” The hero looked back to Aizawa. “Need any help with search and rescue?”

“Ask the man in charge over there,” said Aizawa, pointing to a man in uniform surrounded by half a dozen people. “The students are my priority. Thanks for returning my student. And the villain.”

Hawks shrugged. “Didn’t know she was a villain. But all well that ends well.”

The hero’s words rang in Ochako’s ears as she watched Toga being loaded into a police van. For a moment she met the villain’s golden eyes before she disappeared from view entirely. Ochako looked around the clearing and wondered whether there was any hope of truth to Hawk’s words.

# # # # #

Ochako would later find out that Vlad King had gotten the word of the attack out and emergency vehicles had showed up around the time she was carrying Toga away. Out of the forty students, fifteen were in critical condition from a villain’s gas attack. Eleven others had injuries of varying degrees. Thirteen got off without a scratch. And one was missing.

Of the six pros, one suffered a serious head injury. Another couldn’t be found, having left behind nothing but a massive bloodstain. On the other side, four of the villains were arrested. The other six identified villains had managed to vanish without a trace. The summer camp that Ochako and the others had been looking forward to had ended in the worst way imaginable.

Each student who had an encounter with a villain was carefully questioned about their assailants. Ochako had met four of the villains, three who had escaped, but was able to tell very little about them. Her experiences with them had been brief. Except for Toga, but she’d also had embarrassingly little to say about the girl. She liked blood, was good with knives and ambushing people, and Ochako hadn’t seen her use her Quirk. As far as she was aware. The police thanked her for her contribution and bravery, but she felt like she’d done very little.

As she was being shown out of the interview room, a strange urge had overtaken Ochako. She’d turned to the detective, the same who had been in charge at the USJ incident and asked him a question. “What’s going to happen to Toga?”

“Toga?” asked the detective. “She’s being held under tight security and questioning currently. We’re hoping she can tell us anything about the League’s members or their possible whereabouts. She’s been tight lipped so far.” A pause and a frown. He seemed to be thinking through something. “She did list someone she’d be willing to talk to.”

Ochako’s heart started to pound in her chest. “Who?”

“You,” said the detective. He let out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t really want to ask a kid something like this. Even if you’re a hero student. You’ve been through enough.”

She was overly conscious of the bandages on her arm and leg from where Toga had cut and scratched her. Her every word flustered and confused Ochako. Just being in her presence was strange and uncomfortable. But Bakugo had been kidnapped and villains were on the loose. Could she afford to not take action?

“Can I have time to think about it?” asked Ochako.

The detective nodded. “Of course. Like I said, I’d rather you not have to.” He took out a business card and handed it to Ochako. “My number, for anything you need. Even if it’s not about Toga. Take care.”

From the police station Ochako headed to the hospital. The Class A group chat was full of people planning to meet up and visit their injured classmates. Four Class A students were still in the hospital, but they were only able to check up on but not visit with two of them. Jiro and Hagakure were stable but still unconscious from the poison gas attack. Yaoyorozu had been rendered unconscious from a serious headwound and only woken up after a day. The class delivered her a melon, their well wishes, waved, and left to let her continue resting.

That left Deku, who had also been in and out of consciousness for two days but was now cleared to visit. Recovery Girl had visited him and assisted, so while he was covered in casts on his arms and legs, he would be able to go home soon. As class A filed into his room, Ochako was one of the last and took note of the dead look in his eyes. He barely acknowledged them until they directly addressed him.

“I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you,” said Tokoyami.

Deku shook his head. “Nah, I’m the one who should be apologizing.” He looked around. “Is everyone from class A here?

“All fifteen of us are here,” said Ochako, failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Ilda hurried to explain the status of the other three hospitalized students. No one had to say anything about Bakugo. They all knew. Ochako checked out of the conversation until Kirishima mentioned that he had a way to find and rescue Bakugo. That got her attention real quick and caused an uproar among the class. Opinions were mixed on acting by themselves separate from the pros. But as Ochako looked to Deku, she saw the life had returned to his eyes. Regardless of what anyone else said, he was going to save his friend. Even when Tsu told those planning to go that they’d be no better than villains his determined gaze didn’t falter. The question wasn’t ‘would Deku go?’ it was, ‘who would go with him?’

The doctor came to shoo everyone out so that he could examine Deku. As they were leaving, Ochako heard Kirishima telling Deku that they would need to move that night. As all her classmates went home, Ochako lingered in front of the hospital. In her hand was the detective’s phone number. She wondered in a situation that the pros had said they would resolve what the right move was. Inaction was out of the question.

#mha #uraraka ochako #toga himiko #togachako #togaraka #path diverged in the woods

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akirameta84 · 6 months

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Nendou having inert leftover Rot Cysts on him acting as his chin definitely makes sense. ...that and it being so close to his face also works with this one idea I have. Aka, Toritsuka intentionally dampened his pain receptors (so Nendou would know something is attacking him, but won't waste precious seconds cringing in pain but instead being able to do something about it), and through use of anesthesia to get rid of any pain completely, after he noticed some Rot Cysts on his back, unlike the ones on Nendou's face which can potentially damage his jaw if taken off, Toritsuka was able to RIP THE ONES ON HIS BACK OFF WITH HIS BARE HANDS. Sure he could've been more careful at the moment in time, but it gave room to graft on some back plates of armor that can also carry more weapons if Nendou angles them correctly.

And, well, he was just so angry in the moment that after ensuring Nendou couldn't feel any pain or discomfort, he needed to do SOMETHING. And it even gives him easier access to Nendou's genome to rework it! So really, who can blame him for his, violent, methods of getting rid of those Rot Cysts? The Ancients? They LEFT THEM. So really, why should he care about what they think?

...also on a less angsty note Saiki, despite his limited memory, managed to remember Aren, because he's Saiki's creation, when he woke up. Which Aren greatly appreciates because EMOTIONS.

And on a different note, the reason Aren even has a name is two reasons. The logical one (an ID number wouldn't work if he can glitch out whilst saying it, confusing his creation, so a name will lead to less confusion in the long run), and the emotional one (hard not to get attached to the being your creating to act as your savior, and harder still to not grow to care for them when through his Overseers he saw how hard Aren worked to complete the tasks given to him).

aren was at the main communications array at the sky islands when kusuo collasped. he was heading back to the superstructure through the Precipice bridge between kusuo and kuusukes structure...but when he reached the end of kuusukes side, it just ended. it dropped into nothing but collasped ruins. that was a horrifying moment. aren had noticed that his creators overseers weren't following him anymore, and he heard the earth shattering sounds of the superstructures collapse...but seeing it in front of his face hit the hardest

just like SRS and Spearmaster, kusuo never gave his creation the mark of communication, as they used sign language so that their conversations could be two way instead of one way

aren wasn't supposed to be mouthless, unlike SM who was. kusuo just messed up and he regrets it. he wanted aren to be capable of eating through the tethers from his spears so that he could ALWAYS find food, as there would always be at least some creature to feed on, and he didn't even have to stop to eat. but he was also supposed to have a mouth like a normal slugcat. kusuo was badly damaged from lack of water already and hadn't realized the changes to his organisms digestive system to allow for the new way of gaining nutrients had completely deleted the normal one until he was finished, and there was absolutely no way or time to make a new messenger.

post revival and pre rarefaction cell...kusuo probably can't remember much of it. the common spoken language is hard enough to grasp, let alone a secondary one. its a miracle he remembers aren at all, but thankfully he does, and he remembers a decent amount of the local group too. at least kuusuke got fed up with kusuos messenger ignoring him after kusuos collaspse and forced a mark of communication on him, so at least he can understand kusuo again

iterators are partially robotic so i imagine theyre very physically strong tbh, so that makes sense. mily angst and comedy bundled into one there huh

tyty for the ask anon <3 i can never have too many aus haha. this has been a lovely one to add to my collection

#iterator saiki #saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#rainworld #rain world

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nais-doodles · 2 years

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i feel very yucky abt damien and huxley i would love to hear ur thoughts!!!

Okay so I'm gonna preface this by saying while we know the next audio is gonna have Damien and Huxley, and there isn’t going to be a listener, that’s all we know so far (thought someone did mention something about a patreon announcement which confirms that they’re romantic?? idk I’m too broke to afford the patreon rip), but this thing is gonna assume they are canon.

This one is gonna be kinda long and probably not as eloquent as it could be but here we go!

I personally don’t like Gavin - at least not in the romantic sense. In fact, it’s one of the (very very) few gripes I have with the d.a.m.n. story. In almost every other part of this universe you get to choose which character you wanna ‘canonically’ be involved with, but with this particular story we get saddled with Gavin as the canon romantic LI. I personally felt like I was gritting my teeth at points in the story because of the romantic involvement Gavin had with listener, but I still listened anyway because I like the story - and I’m glad I did listen because I love these characters! I just quite literally would have preferred any of the other d.a.m.n. boys over him, and Huxley and Damien just happen to be my favourites.

Another thing is, canonically, I don’t think any of the characters Erik has made have a romantic relationship that isn’t with the listener. Yeah sure, maybe some of the secondary characters are in relationships (like the dude in Marcus’ story who has a partner? And family? I can’t remember his name rip), but they don’t interact with the listener as much as the main characters do - and to have some of the most forefront ‘main characters’ be in a relationship is just really jarring to me? Sure, Lasko and Gavin had a fling, but they aren’t currently in a relationship. If Hux and Damien become a thing, there will now be a gender attached to the receiver of the romantic affection of these characters, when the whole point of Erik’s universe crafting is that there is no gender attached to person who is usually at the receiving end of any romantic affection i.e. the listener. (Edit: this doesn’t change their sexuality at all, which is great, but my point is in a universe where Erik makes it a point to be gender inclusive about people who are in relationships with the LIs, it seems kinda out of place. Not bad, but new). I don’t know if this point made much sense so I apologise about that.

I can also definitely see how the whole friends to lovers thing can happen, especially after both of them going through something as traumatic as what happened in inversion together, but I feel like there have been no hints towards them getting together and it’s just going to be dumped on us for the sake of having a canon non-listener couple in the redacted universe. Granted, I haven’t had the time to listen to all of the audios after inversion because I’ve been so busy, so I might have just entirely missed the videos where this relationship has been hinted at (which if it has please let me know), but from my current knowledge and stand point this relationship has been ripped out of thin air. It makes me feel uncomfortable because up until this point I’ve seen all four of the the d.a.m.n. boys as brothers, so now that two of them are potentially gonna be dating each other feels gross and I don’t like it.

And finally, to carry on from this particular point, I don’t think I would be able to listen to the non-canon romance audios form Hux and Damien then. But this is just me being stubborn because I feel like they would be ‘cheating’, and I’m just very weird when it comes to things like that lol.

Don’t get me wrong, Huxley and Damien are amazing characters and I want them to be happy and safe, and while I’m not gonna go around attacking people who like the ship, it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I shall suffer in silence instead lmao

edit: removed a tag that said ‘I do agree anon it does feel yucky’ - it was meant to be /j but I don’t think it came across that way!

#nais replies #anonymous #and it makes me sad but that might be bc I'm greedy and want them to myself #plays tiny violin

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potttah · 2 years

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Hi there!

After a long struggle with this being my secondary blog that I use more than my main blog @mooonyboys , I have decided to transform my main blog into my HP blog and discontinue using @potttah

Have a great day!

P.S. follow me on @mooonyboys

#secondary blog #tumblr i trusted you #rip not being able to change secondary to main #new blog

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w1ndrunn3rblog · 3 years

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Female Gamers, Sylvanas Windrunner, and Sexism: Gender Politics in ‘World of Warcraft’

When Sylvanas Windrunner herself is the focus of actual academic study and is used as the primary example of how Blizzard's writing of women and it's treatment of trauma survivors is part of a larger issue regarding how society treats them, you know it's a serious problem.

I happened to find this paper purely by accident. In essence, it carry's out open-ended surveys to empirically address three questions:

In what ways does World of Warcraft (re)construct cultural ideas about gender within the game? Through Sylvanas Windrunner in particular?

Do the ways that WoW (re)constructs cultural ideas about gender affect how female players are treated in the game?

How do women talk about the ways in which they negotiate gender in the WoW community?

Much to my pleasant surprise, I found it extremely validating for what so many of us, particularly in this fandom, have been saying about Blizzard's writing for years. Furthermore, it makes a number of observations I had not even considered before. Although it was written in 2014 (at the tail end of 'Mists of Pandaria'), almost all of the observations made about Sylvanas's character, and female characters in general, are still just as relevant now. It is a daunting 87 pages long, and there are some parts which you could argably skim read, but I highly recommend my fellow Loyalist followers take the time to read it and spread the word to help other WoW fans understand where we are coming from.

Finally, it goes without saying, but ample **Trigger Warnings** for discussions regarding certain aspects of Sylvanas's story that may be too sensitive for some.

Below I have attached a few excerpts from the paper to give you an idea of what it focuses on but, as mentioned above, I strongly recommend reading the whole peice to do it justice.

Sylvanas’ story as an example of r*pe is problematic because it continues the stereotyping of women who are victims of this abuse. As O’Hara explains, “Popular r*pe myths about r*pe victims include: ‘only bad girls get r*ped, victims ‘ask for it’ by getting drunk at parties or wearing provocative clothing, and women who claim they were r*ped are lying, have ulterior motives, or wanted sex at the time but changed their minds afterwards” (O’Hara). The treatment of Sylvanas after hersoul is ripped from her body by Arthas is a perfect example of these r*pe myths as she is never sympathized with by any of the leaders of the factions, or even by the people whom she died trying to save. By using this trope of r*pe within the text, the developers continue a discursive practice in which r*pe is continued to be talked about in a way that is harmful to victims of r*pe.

Part of the insinuation of r*pe and death being linked in Sylvanas’ story sends the message that r*pe is a death, and that the way Sylvanas is able to break away is only through another life, a life of undeath, but she is no longer the high elf Sylvanas. Sylvanas’ sister Vereesa, even refuses to acknowledge Sylvanas as her sister and considers her sister dead when the player speaks with her in Dalaran. While it may be possible to argue that the developers intended to showcase the negative treatment of r*pe victims in order to eradicate callousness towards victims of r*pe, Sylvanas’ character continues to be written as a “bad girl”, a “bitch”, and she has yet to be redeemed in a way for the audience to view her as a hero.

Despite her large role in the defeat of the Lich King—there is in fact an entire dungeon in which Horde players work with her to try to defeat him, as well as bases in Northrend to bring about his downfall—she is absent from the final defeat of the Lich King in the Icecrown Citadel raid and cinematic. She also lacks a spot in the statue built in one of the main cities, Dalaran, to celebrate the heroes who brought about an end to the Lich King. Her omission completely leaves her out the minds of players as they experience the final raid and cinematic. For players, the raids and subsequent cinematic are usually very important to understanding the story line currently taking place within the game. Why, despite her large role within his defeat, is Sylvanas subsequently left out of the celebration of heroes? The omission of her in the victory statue and her character in the final battle cinematic could perhaps send the message that she is in fact not viewed as a hero, and furthermore that she lacks importance within the story. In fact, none of the figures in the final battle against Arthas or in the victory statue are women. Only men are able to be the heroes at the end, despite the large role of Sylvanas, as well as another female character, Jaina Proudmore, in bringing about his downfall. Her disappearance from the final defeat of the Lich King stresses the point that Simone de Beauvoir made in her book "The Second Sex" that as a woman, Sylvanas is secondary. After her disappearance from the final scenes of the expansion Wrath of the Lich King, her character falls into the background and subsequently is either forgotten or treated as a villain instead.

The negative treatment of Sylvanas can be further seen in the way she is treated by even other members of her faction—other leaders who are supposed to be her allies. The following conversation occurs during the WoW expansion Cataclysm, which follows the death of Arthas, between Garrosh Hellscream, leader of the Horde, and Sylvanas. The conversation taking place is primarily concerned with the problem the Forsaken are currently having with the numbers of their people falling in battle. Sylvanas believes she has found a solution: raising the newly dead as Forsaken since her people cannot procreate. While I think the argument can be made that indeed what she intends to do—raise her dead enemies as her own people much like the Lich King did to her—seems abhorrent, Garrosh Hellscream makes judgment on Sylvanas, as though her crimes are more terrible than his own, and calls her a “bitch.” We use it for the woman who doesn’t back down from a confrontation. So let’s not be disingenuous. Is it a bad word? Of course it is. As a culture, we’ve done everything possible to make sure of that, starting with a constantly perpetuated mindset that deems powerful women to be scary, angry and, of course, unfeminine (Zeisler). Sylvanas is powerful, and because she is powerful, automatically she is painted as a scary, angry, and unfeminine character through the word “bitch” and the story writers don’t work to change that in any way—in fact, they reinforce it.

#trigger warning #sylvanas windrunner

319 notes · View notes

frostironfudge · 2 years

Text

Tenebrous - Loki (AU) - Chapter Three

Pairings: Vampire! Professor Loki x Fem!Reader

Characters: Loki, Thor, Fem OC, Reader

Warnings: anxiety attacks described, forced drug, angst, soul bonds mentioned, mutual pining, crying, slow burn?, vampires, previous OD mentioned, over-usage of binder by an OC (they/them), body dysmorphia discussed, vampire bite marks, swearing, blood, heart attack mentioned for secondary character, Minors DNI

Word Count: 4660

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

< Chapter Two || Chapter Four >

Main Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || My AO3

Chapter Three - Warnings Sent In Blood

Present.

Y/N lays in bed, the clock reads seven in the morning. Grey clouds outside represent the turmoil bubbling within her for falling off the wagon. Her phone buzzes, the hospital group informing her of the next posting in the wards for the coming two weeks.

Coursework hangs above her head, organisation never her strong suit.

Slow trickles of panic begin to set into her, everything slows down but her heart rate increases.

Loki’s soft pacing outside stops when he feels the edges panic manifesting in him. He leaps back into the tree, peering into her room.

Y/N’s hands are balled into fists, nails making soft crescents. Mind spiralling with several questions, self accusations. He used to help with these.

Loki worries, contemplating presenting himself.

Tears escape down her cheeks when she sits up, Loki’s heart breaks. She sobs, breathing becoming increasingly difficult with each heaved breath.

“Loki.” She calls out into seeming nothingness. Turning and pressing her face into the pillow, palm covering her mouth to not let anyone hear her breakdown.

He wants to answer her call, Loki digs his palm into the trunk of the tree.

The frayed edges of the bond tug harshly between them.

“Please, please, please, quiet.” Y/N brokenly pleads with her racing mind. She sinks further down into bed, clutching her pillow to her chest once more. No change in position helping.

“Five things you can see,” Loki whispers the technique they’ve tried.

“Five things you can see.” Y/N remembers.

Her eyes trail over her room.

“Loudly, baby, say it out loud.” Loki prompts knowing his voice won’t reach her.

“Cupboard, curtain,” Y/N’s gaze shifts to the window, “Tree tops, chair with old laundry,”

She contemplates saying laundry as the fifth, “Desk lamp.”

“Four things you can touch.” Loki says hearing her breathing evening out, slightly.

“Bed-sheet?” She mumbles, searching for more,

“It counts, Witchling. You can do it.”

“Planter,” she reaches out to touch the bedside plant, “Necklace,” she touches her jewellery.

“One more.” Loki’s hands twitch, wanting to hold her.

“Loki?” She cries again at his absence, pulling the drawer open, bringing out his scarf, “Scarf.”

“Well done, Darling.” Loki encourages from afar, his heart ripped open further.

Why did he have to leave?

“Be able to hear, three,” She pauses “Drizzle, rustling of leaves, light bulb.”

“Always quickest.” Loki smiles, her heart rate reduces further.

“Two to smell, two to smell,” She sniffles,

“Soil after rain.”

Loki closes his eyes, the patter of rain draws Y/N’s eyes outward, her senses filling with the soil’s scent after rain.

“Soil after rain.” Her soft voice carries through in affirmation.

Loki smiles as he hears her, slowly casting the illusion away.

“Lavender.” Their eyes move to the candle at the bedside.

One thing to taste remains.

Y/N sits up, taking out the emergency mini Nutella jar.

Loki smiles endearingly.

“Nutella.” She smiles taking a small bite.

Sixteen Months Ago.

Loki surveys the pub, she had yet to arrive. Thor set down the beer bottles. Smiling extremely happily. Loki rolled his eyes.

“Oh come now brother, I know you’re happy for me.” Thor elbows him. They sit at the bar top.

“I’m wondering who has the pleasure of being your buffoonery’s mate.” Loki adds with a smile taking a sip of his drink, “How did she feel, when you told her about your condition?” Loki sets down the glass tracing the condensation trickling downward.

“She told me to show her my fangs.”

Loki gives him a look, “Does she have a vampire kink?”

Thor laughs, “Amongst some others.”

The door to the pub opens. Thor does not need to look at her to know she is in his presence he can feel the excitement coursing through their bond.

His smile grows wider as she gets closer. Loki notes the scent of Pink Pepper and Bergamot. The latter shared by Thor.

However the soft scent of vanilla lightly carries through the air, she’s here.

His gaze fixes upon Y/N’s smiling face as she looks at Thor. Her smile does not falter as she takes in Loki’s presence.

“Baby! I missed you!” Loki hears but it is not Y/N’s voice. A shorter woman with blue streaks through her hair almost jumps into Thor’s arms.

Loki’s being floods with relief.

A look of confusion flashes across Y/N’s features.

Why does she feel relieved? Where did the nervousness upon seeing Loki sitting with Thor go?

Her eyes move to Loki, her pupils dilate.

He’s changed into a deep green jumper.

Both men stand up.

Loki wonders, are these friends you were to meet?

“Nia, this is my brother, and brother this is my Nia. This is Y/N, her best friend.” Thor introduces with a beaming grin.

Loki holds his hand out to Nia, who was looking at Thor.

“Pleased to meet you.” He tells her, Nia smiles her head resting against Thors chest.

“Likewise, he had a lot to say about you.” Nia grins. They shake hands.

“Good things I hope.” Loki’s gaze flickers to Y/N, nervousness bubbles between them again.

“If he told you good things about me then he told me good things about you.” Nia beams,

“Sorry we were late, Y/N here, was caught up with her favourite Professor.”

Nia grins devilishly, Y/N feels embarrassed as she looks away. A blush coating her cheeks.

“No worries, I’m sure she had good reason, hope your doubts were solved some Professors can be a little meh.” Thor assures.

Nia looks at Y/N, making sure she’s fine, she knew what transpired and sort of convinced her to come along to distract herself.

Y/N looks back at them with a smile, standing a little more straighter.

“Yes um, I just had to give him something I found that might be of his interest.” She explains, her gaze not lingering upon Loki.

“I didn’t catch your name?” Nia looks at the green eyed man who cannot help but steal glances at her best friend.

“Loki.” He answers, smiling at her.

“Oh, Y/N was with that professor he has the same name she can’t stop talking about how he—, oof!” Nia is cut off when Y/N hits her bag against her. Subtly.

The two share a look, Y/N nods her head towards Loki.

Nia’s eyes widen in realisation, “Holy shit.”

“Is everything alright?” Loki wants to know what has she been speaking about him but he knows better than to come off as too curious.

He catches onto the silent communication between the two women when they head towards their booth again.

Thor looks towards Loki, “Is this her?” voice barely above a whisper. Loki gives a curt nod in confirmation.

Nia slides inwards, making a puppy eyed face for Y/N to let Thor sit next to her. She looks towards Loki.

“I could take a chair if—,” He senses her hesitation.

“No, I’m comfortable. I just didn’t um expect to run into you, Sir.” She admits sliding into the booth.

“I didn’t expect it either. Seems as though we keep running into each other. Also no formalities, darling.” He gives her a smile and there is a fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.

“You both better keep your hands above the table.” Y/N warns the couple as Loki settles in next to her keeping enough space between them.

“So they wreak havoc at your home too?” Loki looks at her, Y/N nods.

“I’ve asked for noise cancelling headphones as a gift but I don’t think those would work either.” She laughs much to Nia’s annoyance.

“It was one time.” Nia defends raising her hands.

“More like eight.” Thor confirms as he places Nia’s drink and Y/N’s coke down. Then earning a playful hit to his bicep.

“I mean I think they did it in the library too.” Y/N teases Nia groans, “I told you that in confidence.”

“I think you told the entire attendance of the library that day in confidence.” She keeps the teasing tone light.

Loki looks mortified, “Brother, that was the two of you?”

Thor just sips on his beer and Nia sips on her Cosmopolitan. Deflecting the accusations.

Loki laughs, the crinkles by his eyes only adding to his beauty Y/N deems.

Those damn stars dance again within her chest and she can agree with them, he is beautiful.

Loki looks towards her as he feels the trickles of stars and adoration, the intensity of his eyes has her blush again.

If he could just stroke her cheek, or deepen that colour.

“So you two are brothers, brothers?” Nia looks between them, Y/N’s eyebrows furrow at the absurd question.

“I was adopted but yes we are brothers.” Loki explains, taking a sip of his beer.

Nia looks to Thor who nods his head.

Y/N’s confusion grows, as though a separate conversation takes place between the lines.

Loki looks at Y/N, “Would you like to have some other drink?” He feels the curiosity bloom and this conversation deserves to be within four walls, should they choose to tell her.

She shakes her head, “I um, I don’t drink.” A nervous chuckle escapes past her. Several people somehow judge someone for not wanting to drink alcohol.

“They do have a lovely selection of milkshakes, do you want one of those? I mean I get the appeal of coke but I wouldn’t mind a Nutella milkshake.” Loki intently looks at her, a sudden wave of pure emotion surges over him, tiny stars lighting up his heart. Y/N looks at him with adoration again.

“You might just become her ultimate favourite professor.” Nia interjects.

Loki still keeps his gaze on Y/N, “Why is that?”

“I um, I love Nutella.” She admits, sheepishly.

“Well then a Nutella Milkshake is warranted, I do need to be ultimate favourite.” Loki decides as he slides out of the booth.

“Thor I’d like another Cosmo, please?” Nia bats her eyelashes as if he wouldn’t do what she said.

“Coming right up my love.” Thor kisses her before he accompanies Loki.

Loki and Y/N feel the longing for a love.

The silver threads of the bond turn towards gold.

Present.

Loki’s senses fill with the scent of sterillium. Y/N helps the middle aged man walk in the corridor. Making sure to place her hand posteriorly a few inches away so he isn’t scared to walk.

“You can do it.” She encourages, he lets go of her hand, smiling when he walks independently. Loki admires her working. This is her element.

“Do you reckon I can climb the stairs today?” He questions her.

“Hmm, how about we try that for the second round of treatment? You have a dressing change right? I’ll clear it with the on call but I think we can work it out.” Y/N assures.

The man places his hand over his chest. The bandages feeling damp.

“You’re doing really well. I’ll check them once you lay down.” Y/N smiles when he does too.

“That boy, I think he wants to speak to you.” The man peers behind her.

Loki uses his speed to move behind the wall. Y/N looks in the direction, the corridor empty.

“Must be a helper or relative.” She shrugs as they walk back to the man’s room.

“What time will you return?” He asks, sighing when he finally returns to bed.

“3:30-ish.” Y/N placing the blanket over him, and connects leads back to the monitor.

His husband walks in, “Ah there she is! Physio extraordinaire.” He beams, “How is the old man?” Clark teases his husband.

“Not that old, Clark.” Miles grumbles.

“Hey this guy’s heart just got an upgrade, he’s younger than me.” Y/N defends as the couple laughs.

“We walked independently.” She then informs the remaining changes observed.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon.” Y/N smiles as she exits.

“Thank you.” They grin as she shuts the door.

“Now worries.”

Loki observes her neck, the marks healed the next day and no fresh ones are here. She is almost a week clean again.

His phone rings, the area now more crowded therefore blending in while following her isn’t suspicious.

“Hello?” Loki looks around for anything out of place.

“Professor Loki, I expect you’ve read the email?” Dean Lynch’s voice comes through.

“Email?” Loki quirks an eyebrow, Y/N pauses to speak to an Attending.

“Yes about the creatives fest week. We’ve decided to recruit your top students over the years to showcase their work and also work with you to come up with a story or piece to enter into the competition.” He completes.

“Yes, I believe the office has the list?” Loki stops upon reaching the Physiotherapy Department.

“Yes and we will be shortlisting one candidate for the work, do you have a preference?” The Dean questions.

“No, you may decide for me, I do not want to he biased, I’ve had several talented students in the literature programme and it would be wrong for me to chose.”

“Well then, I will get back to you with a decision. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” Loki keeps his phone away.

Focusing his hearing into the department.

“How are you coping?” He hears her voice, a calm diffuses across his chest.

“I’m getting there, the binder hurts though.” A softer voice shifts, Loki can catch the velcro’s tug.

“Are you working up as we agreed, Emery?” She sounds stern.

“Yesterday I tried sleeping in it.” They admit, sniffling.

“Oh Emery.” Y/N hugs them,

“I just, I don’t look right.” They hold onto her tighter.

“I know you won’t believe me when I say you look absolutely lovely. Hell sometimes I don’t believe positive words for myself. You’re doing the best you can. You aren’t alone and it takes time to adjust.”

Emery nods.

“What if, the binder is not right for me? I just I don’t want to do something wrong so many blogs and influencers they just…,” Emery trails off.

“Hey, look at me.”

They look back at her, “Your journey is different. You may not prefer binders now, maybe you could use them later on, the timeline is different for everyone. You know Mr. Clark?”

Emery nods, “Of the cute ICU couple everyone is going on about?”

“Yeah, Mr. Clark may have some experience with binders, he was very open in discussing about them, he said if I have any questions or knew anyone who did I could ask them to meet him, he loves helping people, so I think when you're comfortable to speak to him, you should.” Y/N smiles when Emery nods understandingly.

"I think, I will, could you take his contact details for me? You can tell them its a friend using a binder who needs to ask a few things..." They exhale and give a small smile filled with determination.

“Also you don’t have to accept my words today, just know you can take time with it, I know wanting to be your true self is needed but you cannot harm yourself in the process.”

“I just, it has been so difficult at home, thank you for listening, I’m, I’m going to take it off, will you stay outside the changing room?” Emery wipes their tears, she nods, they hold hands making their way to the changing room.

Familiar footsteps make Loki look up, an old friend, Doctor Strange.

“My, my, have we returned from sabbatical?” Strange pats Loki’s shoulder.

“Yes.” Loki’s eyes shift to the door.

“Have you met her yet?” Stephen enquires, Loki shakes his head.

“How is she?” He looks at Stephen, “Be honest please.”

Stephen runs a hand through his hair before answering, “I’ve got to tell you, she wasn’t in the best of conditions. Took so long for her to come back to peak performance. I kept her in documentation post her entire OD, we’ve kept it on the down low.”

“Is she going to NA?”

“We’ve tried, she does. She missed one night during her relapse.” Stephen looks remorseful.

Loki sighs.

“Do you think, someone is compelling her?” Stephen knows it is a reach.

“Bite marks Stephen, despite my mark.” Loki looks distraught.

“Your scent isn’t evident when she is inebriated.” Stephen explains, “Therefore the aversion diminishes to a great extent. However I’ve heard of others who get the thrill of drinking from another’s mate.”

Loki’s grip on the side railing tightens. Leaving indents.

“Excuse me, um Doctor Strange? I hope I’m not interrupting…” Y/N’s voice comes from the door, Loki stays still, praying she doesn’t realise it is him.

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N? Please head to my office.”

He looks back at Loki, “I’ll speak with you later.” Stephen pats his shoulder again then walks into the department as she begins updating him on the patients seen today.

Seventeen Months Ago.

“We will be discussing Emily Dickinson’s, Because I Could Not stop For Death.” Loki announces, the scraping of pens and pencils across the papers fills the room.

“What is the theme you all find most drawing out from this poem?” Loki looks around the students as they contemplate answers.

His gaze settles on Y/N, she hadn’t yet spoken in class. Though her two assignments spoke of her understanding and talent.

A few hands were raised.

Loki gestured to the first student.

“Yes Mr. Davis.” He stands, Loki gestures for him to sit and answer.

“Well, Professor, the theme of death is what jumps out, the inevitable that from the moment we are born we head towards death, it also speaks of a calm death, not violent, as though passing through the stages.”

“Very astute, anyone else, Ms. Lopez you raised your hand, yes?” Loki gives an encouraging smile.

“I had the same thought Professor.” She smiles, Loki nods looking around for more volunteers.

He feels hesitancy and then he hears a small, here goes nothing and Y/N’s hand shakily rises.

“Ah, yes Ms. Y/N.” Loki grins widely and it takes her by surprise.

“Well um, Sir, there is also immortality with her, and death in the carriage but it, it is silent. A spectator of sorts, though in the poet’s case it might have to do with the immortal afterlife, I suppose.” She pauses her heart beats erratically.

“And what do you make of it? Immortality?” Loki moves from the podium to the centre floor.

“Well Immortality is something several people crave… I mean if I could be immortal I’d finally be able to read all the books I want to.” Y/N jokes, garnering laughs from everyone.

He chuckles, “What if I told you immortality is overrated?” He looks at her intently, as he leans against the empty desk.

“Maybe, you haven’t found something worth immortality then, Sir.” Y/N answers after a moment of contemplation.

“And what is worth being immortal?”

Everyone else ceases away from view, only Loki and Y/N exist.

“Love?” She answers hesitantly.

“You don’t seem so sure.” He has a teasing grin on his face.

“If you’re asking me, you don’t know the answer either, Sir.” Y/N doesn’t understand where the slight cockiness came from.

“What if I say you might be right?” Loki raises an eyebrow, “What if you ask for immortality, you get it but the lover has a sure death?” He waits for an answer.

“Then I would use my immortality to find a way. If love is the reason then…” Y/N trails off.

“Would the lover agree for Immortality?”

Something about the intensity in the green eyes of Loki cause her breath to hitch, as though these aren’t hypothetical questions.

Uncertainty laces through the developing bond.

The remaining class returns to view.

Loki sighs, “I apologise, I tend to find these discussions intriguing.” Loki turns to walk back to the podium.

“If, if they share the same love, I do not see why one would say no to that, love, power they make one selfish, immortality is a power to extend that love.” She completes as he walks away.

He turns, the small smile gracing Loki’s features let her know he agrees with her statement.

The silver threads begin moving over each other. He knows there is a bond forming, he knows he has to come clean sooner or later.

Loki can feel her proudness at being vocal in class within him much clearer.

Y/N feels another sense of pride within her, more stronger than her own.

Loki begins reciting the poem, annotating after each paragraph.

Choosing later as he watches Y/N take down her notes with a small smile.

Present.

Email From: Dean’s Desk - The College of Literary Studies

Dear Ms. Y/L/N,

Your exemplary work during your creative writing course shows extreme promise.

We would like to invite you to participate in our Creatives Week Programme.

We do have a competition for earning the publication prize, the theme is ‘haunting’.

Please send across your submission for the same by the end of this week, we will announce the result a week after the submission date.

The outcome does not reflect upon your confirmed spot for showcase.

Best Regards,

Dean Lynch.

Y/N stares at the email for several minutes. Stuck near the department.

Loki wonders what has her unmoving as he watches from the opposite end of the hallway.

She forwards the email to Nia adding a line of should she participate even though her mind is already coming up with lines to write possibly.

Loki follows as she makes her way through the list of patients as she did in the morning. There is a pep in her step as she feels better and proud of her patients as they progress.

Y/N feels a tug from the familiar bond, she furrows her eyebrows. Turning around, Loki moves behind the wall.

It keeps tugging as she retraces every hiding spot that Loki tries. The frayed edges desperately trying to reunite them.

Loki sighs knowing his has to move away before the bond compels them to meet.

“Hey Y/N,” She turns to look at Abraham, one of the co-ordinators for the ward.

“Hey Abe, new referral?” She takes out her phone to notify the group.

“Yes, room 324, Mrs. Jefferson, file is in billing, they want a Home Exercise Programme.” He informs, “I’ve billed one session to them so don’t worry about that.” He smiles before leaving.

She texts the information to the group before making her way to the third floor, last patient of the day then she can finally relax in her own bed.

Loki remains on the second floor, near the staircase following her footsteps with his hearing.

Y/N knocks on the door, “Hello I am from the Physiotherapy Department, I understand there is a request.”

She waits for an answer or sound from inside.

A minute passes and nothing.

“Ma’am?” She knocks on the door harder, handle unmoving and the door locked.

Y/N knocks again then decides to rush to the nurse station as she turns the lock clicks and the door opens two inches, the room dimly lit, blinds seem to be drawn.

“Is everything alright?” Y/N questions.

“Yes dear, just napping that is all.” Mrs. Jefferson calls out.

Y/N enters, pushing the door, “Please do not lock the doors Ma’am—,” the minute she crosses the threshold her mouth is covered by a hand, she thrashes against the restraints on her hands and legs, being pinned down in a swift motion. Darkness shrouds Y/N's vision.

-- -- -- --

Loki looks into his phone, wanting to reconfirm with Stephen since no one was responding to her. He hears the lock click but somehow he isn’t satisfied.

Stephen picks up,

“Did you check 324?” Loki questions immediately.

There is a click of the mouse and tapping of keys.

“Loki get to the goddamn room, there is no patient.”

A dull feeling of helplessness takes over Loki.

-- -- -- --

The hand on her mouth moves but is quickly placed onto her jaw.

“You taste much better this way, sweetheart. We have to be quick. Your little meddling mate might just turn up. Now, Now, let it melt,”

The pill melts onto her tongue, Y/N quietly sobs agains the palm over her lips.

“Please no, I’ve, I’ve..” She mumbles helplessly.

“You won’t remember a thing, I promise.” A cold tongue traces over her neck.

Fangs scraping across her skin smirking at the pulse thudding beneath her skin.

“Smell much more exquisite.” The voice praises, Y/N looks away, her mind focusing on the frayed bond, Loki, Loki, Loki.

-- -- -- --

Loki’s eyes widen, Y/N’s pain reverberates within him. in a swift motion he’s outside the door turning the knob. Y/N lays shaking on the floor holding a hand to her neck.

“I d-didn’t; I didn’t, he-he forced it,” She curls up crying. Loki smells it then, the blood, the drug altering her scent. he kneels next to her, taking her head into his lap.

“I know, I know, Y/N, I know you didn’t want to, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. it’s okay, you’re safe.” He brushes her hair away, looking at the bite marks, the rough edges indicate they didn’t completed the feed nor did they attacker seal the wound.

Stephen stands behind Loki. his gaze lands onto the wall above Y/N.

“Loki, the wall…” Stephen now realises this extends beyond Loki leaving for six months.

‘Your mate she tastes much sweeter,

so much better without your scents of cedar,

I know you marked her selfishly,

But I love drinking from her truly.’

“it is written in her blood.” Stephen concludes, kneeling down next to them, he takes her palm in his, checking for anything other than the drugs in her system.

“do you want to give her your blood?” Stephen looks at him.

“she won’t take it.” Loki sighs, as she looks up at him.

“Loki?” Her eyes glaze over with more tears.

“I’m here, I’m here.” he affirms, placing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“stars.” she mumbles

“I can take off the drugs effect, but the compulsion if any, that—,”

“I didn’t, I didn’t want to take them, doctor strange, you have to you have to believe me please I—,”

“hey, hey, I know I know, we’ll get you cleaned up, we’ll get you home.” Loki cradles her face between his hands.

“not, not ho-home.”

“Loki, she’s ebbing towards a panic attack.” Strange informs.

“can you offset it?” Loki looks at him.

“will you give her the blood?” He raises an eyebrow.

“you know what will happen if I do.”

Y/N’s breath catches in her throat. her eyes unfocused from Loki’s face, she raises her hand to touch his cheek.

“Stephen.” Loki bellows hears the slowing of her heart.

“Loki you need to give her the blood.” Strange places his palms on her sternum, hands begin emitting a soft glow.

“I can’t—,” “do it.” Y/N’s voice barely a whisper cuts him off.

they shift, Loki sitting against the wall, Y/N in his arms, supported by his chest, Stephen’s hands still keeping her heart going.

Loki bites into his wrist, placing it at her lips.

her lips close around the bite marks, a soft whimper as the blood touches her tongue.

“you need to suck it out as well.” Strange looks up.

Loki’s lips latch onto her neck, her grip on his hand tightens. her blood tasting different.

“just a little more, you’re doing so well.” He encourages pulling away momentarily.

Stephen nods in agreement, “about a minute more.” he deems fit.

“that is it, darling.” Loki feels her relax against him, he can feel a slight buzz akin to alcohol.

“scent is back to mixing with yours, I can perceive she’s taken.”

Loki shakes his head nodding, “her blood gives an effect close to alcohol?”

“I’ll look into it.”

“after how long has she shared blood with you?”

“this is the first time she’s had it.”

“how did the bond form earlier then?” Stephen’s expression is shocked to say the least.

“brother.” Thor steps into the room, “I came as soon as Strange messaged.”

“the three of us, and the two of them need to discuss a few things.” Loki announces, cradling Y/N closer to him.

Stephen, tilts his head to the wall, Thor’s eyes scan the text, his fists clench.

Y/N slips into a slumber, Loki, runs his lips over the bite marks, as they begin to heal.

the frayed edges of their bond begin healing the threads turn from a decaying black towards a glowing bronze.

-x-x-x-x-

A.N. would anyone be interested in some artwork i've come up with for the story? its small drawings of things i can draw to express how the bonds look to the soulmates. hope you enjoy reading!

taglist open! just comment below to be added!

tagging: @anemois-hiraeth @stevesmewmew

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guardianspirits13 · 3 years

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I wanna talk about Natsuo Todoroki for a second here.

tw// mentions of abuse, self harm, and suicide

Natsuo visibly has the most emotional trauma out of anyone else in his family (Touya not included), and I really wanna talk about why that is.

For starters, we haven't seen him really smile since he was introduced in chapter 187. He's introduced as having a friendly, easygoing persona and it's easy to imagine this is how most people outside of his family know him. However, every time we see him appear since then, another layer of his trauma is revealed and expanded upon, and it cuts DEEP.

I think the main reason that Natsuo still seems so vulnerable compared to the rest of his family is different than what you'd assume. Fuyumi and Shouto both spend a lot of time around Endeavor, and have been in close proximity to his (relatively recent) decision to atone. They have seen his growth firsthand and come to terms with it. Rei has obviously taken a very different path to healing- not entirely voluntarily- but she has been working with doctors and therapists for years to change and recover and reconnect with herself and her children. Natsuo is off at college, and takes every opportunity he can to avoid Endeavor. He (understandably) wants nothing to do with him, and shows stagnant resistance to his attempts to atone.

The reason why Natsuo can't move on from the past is because his trauma didn't come from Endeavor. It came from Touya.

Now initially we were led to believe that it was simply Touya's untimely death that still bothers Natsuo, and it makes sense seeing how Endeavor drove him to the edge. Losing his best friend and brother as a young kid without parents to support him or any therapist to speak of can absolutely been the source of persistent emotional damage, but the more and more we learn about Touya's situation, the more evident it becomes that Natsuo's trauma is much much deeper than even grief.

Touya, as we know, was driven by an ambition instilled in him by his father and experienced extreme rejection sensitivity when those ambitions were no longer realistic. Touya's relationship with his parents could be described as insecure attachment, a psychological term primarily regarding how kids react and respond to their parents and other close relationships. As he was raised, Touya learned to equate his potential to be a hero with his personal worth and similarly confounded attention with love. The difference being, of course, that love is unconditional, but even attention was being continually directed away from him as a punishment for continuing to train and burn himself so he could once again become worthy in his fathers' eyes.

This is where Natsuo comes in. At first it was assumed that all of the Todoroki children were born out of Endeavor's strong-willed desire to have a child that could surpass All Might, but we learned that this isn't exactly the case. I'd argue that it was narratively poetic on Horikoshi's part once this was expanded upon. Fuyumi was born to support and encourage her brother, and that is the exact role she plays 23 years later, keeping her family together.

Natsuo's case is even more intersting.

It was bad enough if Natsuo was only born for the potential of his quirk, but it's even more sinister that the sole intent behind his birth was to discourage Touya from his ambitions. I'd say it was to replace him, but it was more to promote the idea that Touya was expendable than to raise aonther kid with the same ideals but the potential to actually achieve it, although that was definitely a secondary motivation.

The parallelism in this is how much Natsuo's life revolves around Touya. He was born because of Touya, he looked up to and took care of Touya as a kid, and the absence of Touya in the present continues to drive him and his decisions in life (but more on that later).

I continue to pray that we will eventually get more solid backstory on Natsuo and Touya's relationship as kids and where it cut off, wether on a bad note or not, but there are a few things we know for certain. One, Touya was mentally ill. Yes, he was rejected by his parents but he seems to have been particularly vulnerable to this compared to any of his siblings since he was the first of them and thus relied only on his parents for validation in his early years. He shows early signs of a variety of different mental disorders, particularly BPD, which I have previously written a whole analysis for on its own. Touya is shown self-harming both by the very nature of his quirk and even by very directly ripping his hair out. He was incredibly self-destructive.

This is why it is so much more concerning to me that Natsuo, who was AT LEAST four years younger than him, was his primary source of comfort. Natsuo was too young to have known anything more than 'my big brother is sad that daddy won't train him anymore' and he obviously wasn't equipped in any way to handle Touya's severe mental illness. Touya most definitely needed professional treaatment as his forms of coping were abnormal even for the neglect and rejection that he experienced. Natsuo comforted Touya through breakdown after breakdown, and more than that Touya relied on him and came to him voluntarily for support. Natsuo was the best option he had, and he took full advantage of that. The main source of Natsuo's trauma was Touya's reliance on him.

Not to say at all that this was in any way Touya's fault- he was mentally ill and desperately in need of some form of comfort to keep him sane; it was almost a survival method at this point since neither of his parents really acknowleged him at all anymore. Touya's instability hurt Natsuo more than parental neglect ever did, but it was the neglect that enabled it and striped Touya of the supportive atmosphere he would have needed at this point not only to prevent but to heal from the mental damage he had already suffered.

Natsuo dealt with this for years and you can see how much it hurt him to see Touya in so much pain, not only from Endeavor's rejection but from his own self harm as well. For Natuso to know that his brotherly love would never be the same as having loving parents; would neve be enough- but at least it was something so he continued to love and care about his brother for little in return- is indicative of the kind of character he is.

(Edit: After the events of chapter 302 we know that Natsuo's relationship with Touya wasn't perfect. I will elaborate more on this in a different post, but I just wanted to clarify that although we were shown a very high-tension scene between them, it is implied that this was a regular occurrence that Natsuo was usually more receptive too but tired out of, in addition to Touya's spiraling mental health. It fit with the natrative to show the tension Touya was feeling with his family from all directions, but Natsu and Touya clearly had a stronger relationship up to and before this point, evidenced by their sharing a room and playing together regularly.)

He is incredibly selfless, and it's interesting to note how many of his positive qualities as an adult stem from negative experiences as a kid. He never really felt love from his parents, so he relied on Touya (and likely also Fuyumi) for that as well. If he grew up learning he had to give love in order to recieve it back, it absolutely influenced who he became in the future, a solid example of this being the responsibility he feels to reach out and have a relationship with Shouto and further regrets that he wasn't able to help his abuse in the past either. Another aspect of his character that intruigues me is how gentle he is. Personality-wise he seems about as opposite as he could be from the awkward, stoic, emotionally-stunted person that is Endeavor.

There are a couple of reasons for this, beyond what I've already discussed.

One, he had little to no contact with elements of toxic masculinity growing up, especially not from Endeavor.

Two, most of the influence he did have growing up was from Fuyumi, who is established to have endlessly cared for him since he was a literal baby.

Three, he grew up in a household where almost everyone around him was in much more literal, immediate pain than he was so he developed a very strong sense of empathy that might also have been tied to early survivor's guilt.

Now I have one important distinction to make, and that's the temptation to label him as a 'softboy' or something of the like after seeing him caring for his family and more pointedly, watching him break down in tears during chapter 252. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with men being soft or vulnerable (on the contrary it's actually so so important and relevant that Hori is writing characters like this in a mainstream shounen manga but that's an essay for another time), it is unfair to label him as such based on a moment when his trauma is being exposed.

Because his truama stems from such a young age, there is a blurry line between just being born with more emotional intelligence and the situation he was in fostering those traits. You know, the classic nature/nurture thing. My point being, it's important to tread carefully when discussing the nature of his personality to avoid invalidating his trauma; I have no doubt that he is very strong for having survived these things, and the moments we see of him onscreen are definitely among his most vulnerable.

Another thing that people less familiar with Natsuo's character might assume is that he is hot-headed and argumentative. I thought that at first too- after all, he doesn't seem to shy away from yelling at Endeavor when given the opportunity. However, this doesn't seem to be the case at all.

The first real scene we see him in with Endeavor, the man walks into the room and Natsuo decides he can't handle it and goes to leave. However, Endeavor happens to be blocking the doorway. Endeavor physically stops him and provokes him to his face, asking him to say whatever is on him mind. While Natsuo is notably not confrontational, Endeavor is. I think it's fair to say that he felt at least uneasy at this gesture. Natsuo is very honest with his feelings, and it's obvious that he's pissed at the audacity of Endeavor to be so oblivious to his own son. This is presumably one of the first real interactions they've ever really had, and at this point Natsuo has been dealing with trauma (caused by Endeavor!) on his own for years, and Endeavor seems completely oblivious to his pain and dismmisive to the rest of the family's as well.

Again during the internship arc Natsuo tries to get along with Endeavor and this time he actually gives it a fleeting chance. Tensions are high, however, and the conversation very quickly becomes uncomfortable, at which point he leaves. It is continually implied that Natsuo is uncomfortable being around Endeavor because his very presence brings up painful thoughts and memories of a time when sharing the same space as him was a warning to run and hide. This is later directly confirmed by Natsuo as he says that every time he looks at Endeavor's face he remembers Touya and the pain he was in.

I feel like an important side note is that we have never seen Natsuo outside the context of his family, which is understandable, as the role he plays in the story directly relates to them. However, if you take a look at Shouto, even though his experiences have shaped him to become who he is, he definitely acts differently when Endeavor's not in the vicinity.

Back to Touya's death, it would be very rare that someone would mourn a death for an entire decade without finding closure unless there are other factors preventing it, and uncomfortably this seems to be the same thing for both Natsuo and Endeavor: guilt.

This is getting incredibly long already, but it's important to note that Natsuo probably felt an incredible responsibility to take care of Touya and protect him because of his empathetic nature. His love was never going to be the same as having loving parents. His encouragement was never going to be the same as having support from Endeavor. Even further than then neglect and abandonement, it was not being able to save Touya that really made Natsuo feel worthless.

He seems to try and remedy this inability to save Touya and diminish his guilt by doing everything he can to be better. He reaches out to Shouto to be a better brother, he consistently pushes his limits to entertain Fuyumi's notion of a happy family, and he's working hard towards a degree rhat will allow him to help people like Touya (and Rei) because he failed to do so in the past.

His bio mildly implies that he didn't have much of a direction he was heading in after high school, but Fuyumi's encouragement led him to seek out his current college career. This goes back to Natsuo's 'purpose' in a sense revolving arount Touya, from his birth to his relationship with him to his death, after which he lost his direction. They were always rather inseperable, so naturally their seperation hit Natsuo hard. He lost his direction in life so when Fuyumi encouraged him to rediscover it, he thought of helping people, because that's ultimately what he was born to do.

Thank you so, so much for reading this if you made it to the end! I clearly have a lot of thoughts on this. Let me know what you think about it as well, and hopefully we'll get more info on this soon in the manga :)

#bnha 203 #bnha spoilers #long post #natsuo todoroki #todoroki natsuo #bnha meta #mymeta #todoroki touya

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echo-of-sounds · 3 years

Text

bnha original characters

This is less about the characters themselves and more about their quirks, their strengths, weaknesses, and the like. I only included Ursa and Cujo in this from anxiety bear.

I might make more about Quick Comfort’s reader, some side characters, and villains to explore their quirks further. Let me know if you’d like to read about more characters! I liked doing this!

anxiety bear’s reader

Hero Name: Ursa (Latin; bear)

Quirk: Arctotherium

She can transform into an Arctotherium angustidens (an extinct genus of South American short-faced bear). A secondary effect of her quirk is her enhanced senses.

Height: on all fours, she’s 5’11ft at the shoulder (perfect height for biting people right in the jugular); on her hind legs, she’s 12ft

Weight: around 2,900 pounds

Hero Costume: It’s made out of simple, relaxed, and breathable clothing. To nullify her heightened smell, she has a mask. It’s a small, specialized respirator that filters even the tiniest odor. After she uses her quirks, she needs food, so there’s a small pocket on her thigh that she keeps filled with protein bars. For cold weather, she adds a cloak.

Strengths:

Ursa’s sheer mass and weight benefit her, making her difficult to knock/jar, a powerful hitter, and becomes quite the tank when she gets charging. Running up to 45mph at long distances, she’s easily able to break through walls, catch those trying to escape, and escape herself if necessary. She relies mostly on her senses of hearing (which exceeds frequencies humans can hear) and smell (which is about 2,000 times greater than a human’s).

Her fur, dark brown in color, provides protection against impact and some claws/knives due to its thickness. It is not impenetrable. Enough force behind the weapon can spear through her fur.

For offense, her claws and teeth are her main weapons. Her paws are about 1.2 feet (not including her claws). Her claws are around 4 inches. As with other bears, they aren’t actually that sharp. She just has enough power behind her swing to cause damage no matter their acuteness. It’s enough to knock the wind out of someone.

Weaknesses:

She can’t talk while in bear form. She can hear, but being unable to communicate back can cause difficulties while working in teams.

While Ursa’s enhanced senses prove useful in many cases, they’re also her main weakness. Overloading her senses is a sure-fire way to force her unconscious, incapacitated, or to unshift. Smell is the quickest and easiest to overtax, especially with acrid, bitter, and sharp scents. Hearing and sight are next: with high-pitched noises, inaudible by the average human, and deep, bass sounds that rumble her bones; and with bright lights, flashing ones are the worst.

Because of her sensitivities, she acts more like a powerhouse for brief fights. If she’s in one too long, the greater the chances of her becoming overwhelmed. She’s more of a hindrance than anything if she gets overwhelmed.

Quirk Side Effects/Other Info:

Ursa’s senses are still enhanced when she isn’t in bear form. It mimics Sensory Processing Disorder. Her mask helps with her sense of smell. For sight, she has glasses that block out the wavelengths that irritate her eyes the most. For hearing, she has hearing hampers. They work the opposite of hearing aids; instead of amplifying noises/pitches, they dampen them before sending the soundwaves into the ear.

After exerting a certain amount of energy while using her quirk, her body rapidly depletes its resources. The protein bars in her costume help while she’s on patrol. After intense fights, she needs much more than the snacks, often choosing chicken breast topped with fried eggs on any combination of rice, steak, vegetables, and cheeses (she refuses to eat any type of seafood or beans, hating the smell, taste, and texture in her mouth).

Although she tends to ignore this part, she goes through a sort of ‘heat’ like bears do. It starts around mid-May and lasts till early July. She spends more time inside during it.

Quirk Malfunction:

Shifting in and out of her bear form isn’t always a smooth process. Changing is typically easy as her body is reverting into its natural state; she just relaxes, let’s go, and it happened. It’s quick, and she hardly has to try. Sometimes, when she’s exhausted, injured, or otherwise overwhelmed, parts of her body may not revert properly.

Here’s an example from when she was eight (this is a condensed/slightly modified version of the explanation I gave in anxiety bear):

She couldn’t remember what was overwhelming. Something just hurt. She couldn’t move or do anything. So she started panicking. When she shifted back, her face felt horrible. It felt as if her skin was being stretched and her bones were warped. She screamed. Her dad came outside, wrapped a towel around her face, picked her up, and brought her to the hospital.

Her facial bones didn’t properly shift. In our maxilla, we have an infraorbital foramen which is the opening to the infraorbital canal. It transmits a nerve, vein, and artery. Bears also have this, but their anatomy is different. The important difference, in this case, is their maxilla and mandible length due to their muzzles. Human skulls are relatively flat in comparison.

When Ursa shifted, her maxilla remained long like a bear’s (about four inches). Her upper canines were still large and pointing outward. At the hospital, X-Rays showed her infraorbital canal was shoved forward. Because it was only her maxilla that malfunctioned, her nerves and arteries were stretched almost to the point of ripping as they were still fit for a human. She couldn’t talk or see and could hardly smell.

To fix it whenever this happens, she needs to be given Tizanidine. It’s a skeletomuscular relaxant with antispastic agents. It slows the brain and nervous system’s activity to let your muscles relax. Her body will eventually fix itself.

Kuma (reader’s brother in anxiety bear)

Hero Name: Cujo (From the Stephen King story. He prefers the film because of the more optimistic ending.)

Quirk: Arctotherium

Kuma’s quirk is very similar to his sister’s. He can transform into an Arctotherium angustidens. A secondary effect of his quirk is enhanced senses. However, they aren’t as enhanced as Ursa’s.

Height: He stands at 6’1ft on all fours and 14 feet on his hind legs

Weight: around 3,200 pounds

Hero Costume: Much like his sister, his costume is relaxed and comfortable clothing. He also has a mask to filter smells (but uses it less frequently than Ursa) and a pocket on his thigh for protein snacks.

Strengths:

Cujo shares many strengths and weaknesses with Ursa, mainly thick fur for protection, sharp teeth, and long claws. One difference is that he has more mass and weight to his advantage. It makes him a heavier hitter, able to cause more damage in less amount of time. And since his senses aren’t as sensitive, he doesn’t have to worry about becoming overwhelmed as much as Ursa does. These factors allow him to hit harder, last longer in fights, and take in more sensory input.

He’s willing to fight dirty and bloody to win (though some believe that to be a weakness) With his size, he’s able to sustain quite a bit of damage without it hindering him. A bullet to the side or a slash to his back would incapacitate an average human/someone of a smaller size. He’d barely feel the bullet, let alone have to worry about it.

Weaknesses:

The burden of Kuma’s weight takes a toll on his body. Bones undergoing shifting, sometimes grinding against one another, the sudden and intense weight changes, and stress on his muscles often lead to aches and pains. He’s gotten accustomed to it as he’s trained and grown-up. Some preventive measures are: taking pain medication before going on patrol, wearing compression sleeves under his costume, hot baths, and cold compresses.

Due to his size, he requires a higher amount of protein than his sister. And the longer a fight is combined with how much energy he exerts, the quicker his body exhausts. He’s built for dealing damage as hastily and as fiercely as possible. If a fight occurs while he’s on patrol, he’s done after the fight, needing a great deal of protein before his body gives, typically going for seafood and/or steak. If he doesn’t get the protein in time, he’ll faint, suffering from a sudden onset of severe protein deficiency, and need medical attention.

This doesn’t have to do with the fighting part of a Hero’s career, but he is not kid-friendly, often caught swearing on camera, shoving cameras and reporters out of his space, and sometimes picking fights with other Heroes and interviewers he doesn’t like. It makes his popularity suffer.

Quirk Side Effects/Other Info:

Kuma’s senses aren’t enhanced enough to be considered a weakness, but they do cause significant stress in his daily life, notably touch and feel. Textures, high temperatures, and others touching him are what irritates him the most. His reaction is less distress (like Ursa’s is) and more anger at the cause.

It’s not proven, but his quirk seems to affect his personality a bit. He’s very protective of his sister and very prepared to snap (with his mouth as a warning sign) at anyone who he doesn’t know and/or doesn’t like.

From mid-May till early July, Kuma also goes through a heat. Unlike his sister, who’s timid and resistant when it comes to socializing, he’s very brash, impulsive, and sometimes aggressive, going to bars throughout those months, choosing any man or woman piques his interest enough to go home with.

Quirk Malfunction:

Kuma also undergoes the same bodily malfunction as his sister. It happens to him more often due to the strain on his body and its need for large quantities of protein. The ladder is usually the reason for a malfunction (kind of like biological short-circuiting).

Picture of an Arctotherium for reference:

Link for photo: https://www.theguardian.com/science/gallery/2018/jun/11/when-size-does-matter-big-beasts-last-of-the-giants-in-pictures

#bnha #bnha oc #my ocs #bnha quirks #quirk thoughts #boku no hero academia #anxiety bear

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entomancy · 3 years

Text

(Fic) One thing we can agree on

Title: One thing we can agree on (Wattpad)

Setting: The vampire nonsense / Vegas Masquerade

Warnings: Gore. I am having fun with my crayons.

Words: 1401

Summary: Flashback into the 'Moonlight Flush' part of the timeline. Which is the framing of the events of ~twenty years ago in the Vegas Masq. setting (which set up the current ‘rules’) as an urban fantasy police procedural; where Joplin would have been the secondary main / intro to the supernatural world and Belton the Season One antagonist who ended up Sort Of Befriended(ish).

This would have been in approx. Season Three, when bits from Joplin's past come back to bite him (er, again, I guess), and involves the first time he'd actually had to team up with Belton against a larger problem.

The larger problem being: more werebears, but asshole ones.

Indulgent, but I enjoy Belton being a dramatic irritation, and ~27yr old Joplin's permanent state of exasperation. And I wanted to explore an important (?) difference in the way the vampires and were(s) of this setting work.

(Also neither tumblr nor Wattpad has any sensible way to use footnotes, so there's one just... there, in the middle. Like this is FFN cira 2003 or something.)

---

The real difference between vampires and werewolves is how they bleed.

Clearly it isn't the only difference. There are the big, obvious - hairy - ones; and you could spend lifetimes comparing technicalities of characteristic amongst the supernatural set, searching for links or diversions or even a root cause. How magic plays in. How inheritances work, or the fundamental incompatibility of cross-siring. How sunlight, direct or orbitally reflected, could possibly trigger the different effects that it does.

But for Denis Joplin, as he'd scrambled to make sense of the extraordinary left turn his last decade had careened into, somehow the thing that really seemed to underline it all was the way they bled. Maybe because he'd always had such a damn knack for getting into situations that showcased it.

That last round of gunfire had really screwed up his right arm. He'd wedged himself in place against the thick struts of a heavy-duty shipping container - splattered almost as much now with crimson as it was with spraypainted Cyrillic – and tried to breathe quietly. The enormous bastard wielding a goddamn helicopter canon had fucked off to yell 'roided nonsense into a different part of the warehouse, so they probably had a few minutes pause before he realised his targets had dodged.

Not dodged as well as Joplin'd have liked, but there y'go. You worked with what you got.

Most of the bullets had gone straight through – since he wasn't an armour-plated van – but he could feel a few wedged points of pain even within the jellied miasma of broken flesh that hung unpleasantly from his torn shirt.

"Jesustapdancing-" he bit down on the mismatched curse as he grabbed his messed-up limb with his other hand and twisted, pushing it up against himself and the steel wall behind, and tried not to go blind.

It squelched.

"Don't like that," he muttered, then glanced up at the wet snort of amusement from just down the container row. "Hey, he nailed you to the fuckin' wall about as well as I've seen; don't get lippy."

Not that his extremely temporary partner was in much shape to be more actively sarcastic. The brunt of the recent salvo had hit taken Belton pointy-ear to hip, ripping the big grey fuck open like a side character in chainsaw splatter, which – somehow – made the look of dazed amusement on the bits of his face that weren't hanging off even more aggravating than usual. He shifted position, bringing his torn-up arms out in front of him as if holding something narrow and invisible in both hands, and –

Joplin blinked.

Pull... yourself...

"Oh fuck off," he growled – and it was a growl, a sound that started deeper than his chest actually went and brought the pull along with it; a bestial reverb that went beneath his bones. Joplin gritted his teeth – which felt about ready to start moving in his jaw as it was, aching with something beyond nerves – and had another unpleasant feel around where his elbow used to be. It helped if everything was in the right place. Last thing he needed right now was having to rebreak a limb because he'd managed to shift over all wonky.

That'd have to do. Very pointedly not making eye contact with Belton as he did so, Joplin Changed.

There have been a lot of renditions of a lycanthropic* transformations over the years, and there have even been some that have come close to the actual reality of seeing it happen. The exact visuals tend to vary person to person, but however it looks, the world bends – just a little, at the seams – as something that was only ever the thickness of breath away steps forward. Joplin always thought it felt like stretching should do – an all-over, unfurling release of physicality, like every fibre of you stopped hunching its shoulders all at once.

________________________________________________________________

* There's an argument that 'ursanthropic' might be a more technically correct term when the reader is considering Denis Joplin himself – or even the bellowing figure currently firing 30mm rounds into what will turn out to be a container of tinned garlic pallets – but the linguistic side of paraphylogeny isn't a popular field. 'Actually, it's wereBEAR' is only a helpful correction under certain circumstances, and this isn't one of them.**

** Yet. ________________________________________________________________

The arm took a bit more effort. A transformation that added several feet in height, width, and summed-up hair length didn't exactly have a problem fixing a half-mulched limb, but there was clearly an additional process going on. He wondered how people had explained what it looked like before timelapse film had been developed.

It... healed. Torn vessels sealed over; bone shards scraped and swelled together within muscles that bulged crimson-purple as they knitted close. Tissue bloomed, bruise-blossom hues racing through tattered skin and dragging raw pallor behind them; black-bloody tears welled up pink and grey and pink again, threaded with ribbons of tendon herded into place by a lightning flash of sudden scars, gone as fast as they appeared. Then the fur broke surface like desert flowering, and a heartbeat later there was nothing to show for the damage that a slight extra paleness in the iron-grey pelt, as Joplin flexed his bulked-out fingers carefully.

Belton clapped. Just once, with a softness that hands tipped with inch-long claws shouldn't be able to achieve, and it was the most sarcastic fucking sound Joplin had ever heard. He bared his considerable teeth in a silent snarl and waved his own padded hands towards the old bat.

Hurry. Up.

Belton's black eyes crinkled at the edges, and then he pulled himself back together.

The real difference between vampires and werewolves is how they bleed.

Belton's blood was dark, with a strangeness to its consistency that would have baffled splatter analysts on a fundamental level, but it also didn't tend to stay where it landed. None of him did. Metal gleamed naked against the pitted concrete as pools of inky crimson pulled away from the bullets that had torn them loose, flowing back along their own path like a retreating tide - rivulets of reversing gore that snaked and whipped back up their origin form, trailing back into ruptures that folded seamlessly shut around them. Belton stood up, even as his chest cavity was still closing, and gently pushed his hanging jaw back into place, smoothed like fresh clay.

Vampires don't heal – you see – so much as 'rewind'.

He held Joplin's gaze, half a heartbeat longer than he needed to, and grinned.

There was a spotless bullet held between his rows of teeth.

"Oh, fuck off," Joplin repeated – before he was drowned out by a guttural roaring, and the sound of a minigun barrel being smashed through something unfortune enough to be inside its turning circle.

"Little pigs, little pigs! I hear you!"

Both men visibly winced.

"See, someone with that little self-awareness just shouldn't be this much of a problem," Belton muttered, flicking the bullet aside like a cigarette butt. "It's genuinely a bit embarrassing."

"Yeah, well," Joplin whispered back, as he scanned the roof, taking in the environment with an eye to traversal options he hadn't had five minutes ago. "I won't tell if you don't."

Another roar burst the air, and Belton started edging down the row again, clearly doing his own version of the calculations.

"Pity he doesn't take after your side of the family, really."

"This isn't a family situation," Joplin snapped back, readying himself to move when the oncoming footsteps got a bit closer. If he could get around, then maybe he could deke out the...

He glanced back, about to signal a go, and realised the old vampire was still looking at him, one of those impossible-to-read expressions on his weird bat face for a second, before he spoke softly.

"See, that's the thing with monsters. It's always going to come back to blood, one way or another."

A shiver danced down Joplin's extended spine, strong enough to stir the fur. That was a bit close for comfort – and from sodding Belton? He shrugged dismissively, only partly to himself.

"Yeah, well, this ain't gonna be the worst it gets. Try not t'get cut in half again."

Then the shipping container exploded in a nightmare of burning metal. Belton went right; Joplin went up; and everything else went on from there.

----

#Entofic #urban fantasy #The Vegas Masquerade #Knockoff Manbat lookin' bastard #first team up is a bitch #Denis Joplin

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qm-vox · 3 years

Text

The Dwelling Gods - Frame Challenge

Previous Chapter: Here To Help

Vrai-Gyo ra Moll

GSS Chorus of Eyes, Gyo System (Gataxian space), 245 Year of Imperium (2866 Astra Federation Standard Calendar; slightly less than three years after the start of the Humanities War)

I wake up feeling rested in a way I haven’t since I enlisted. The creaky joints in my carapace feel supple again, like I’m fresh out of the chrysalis, and the fog of exhaustion from working day in and day out has lifted from my mind. Gods of the Pure, when did the beds on this forsaken ship get so comfortable?

And why can’t I move my arms or wings?

The awareness that I am, in fact, shackled and blinded creeps up on me like a fart floating across a room, and from the sound of the thrashing and swearing around me I’m not the only one smelling it. Froll’s voices are coming from close by, and after a moment I can pick out others I know; Hlar, Bresv, Trask -

- my fellow mutineers. Oh. Oh death.

The sound of rifle butts slamming against the floor in unison jolts me out of my panic, and the booming voices of their holders: “You stand before the Presence! All hail Yrull-Gatax ra Vell, High Slayer, Protector of the Pure, and Eyes of the Wise!”

“Something tells me we won’t be hearing a returning ‘all hail’, Lieutenant,” my commander-in-chief answers in a dry and dangerous tone, and then the restraining helm is torn from my compound eyes. My relief at realizing that there are dozens of us - the will to overthrow the treacherous High Slayer has spread further than I thought possible! - is immediately smothered by the realization that we are all, yes, in chains, surrounding Chorus of Eyes’ main tactical display. Yrull hovers imperiously near it, her wingbeats filling the air with dust, while her majordomo prowls the room checking our restraints. With her is that disgusting ambassador from the machines, and the terran legate. What was her name? Melpomene or something like that. The machine looks me in the eyes and displays ‘Sorry’ in my own language on its faceplate; the terran doesn’t even bother, wholly obsessed with fiddling with the tactical display. I am not the only one straining in my shackles to reach her, but I have no more luck than anyone else.

“What is this about?” Trask demands, thrashing in her shackles. The High Slayer makes an elaborate show of inspecting her own claws. “You can’t -” “You’re absolutely correct,” Yrull interrupts. “I can’t. My evidence of your conspiracy is not admissible in any court, civilian or military. But I am free to train my soldiers as I see fit, and I see fit today to teach you all a valuable lesson.” I laugh, the air rushing through my carapace. “And you expect that to hold water after the Pure see your ‘training’, xeno-lover?” She bristles and I stand my ground as best I can, certain that I am about to be butchered in front of my comrades. After a moment, however, the High Slayer touches down on the metal floor instead. Her voices are soft in the way predators are before they strike. “You sorry lot think you know what is best for our empire, for the Pure Peoples,” the High Slayer says, and the rest of us fall silent in the wake of her gaze. “You plan to remove their duly elected Slayer in the middle of a war for their very survival. So fine. Since you feel so strongly about this, let’s hear your plan. Legate.” The tactical display lights up, zooming out to a galactic map lit up with symbols. Symbols of - of our force dispositions, and that of the xenos and the best-known ones of the hivemind as well. The terran gestures to draw our attention and selects a planet; when she does, information about it - economy, defenses, current armed forces, available reinforcements, production capacity, population, important cultural sites and practices - begins scrolling past. “Instead of the lot of you wasting your time and mine trying to kill me, we’re going to waste our time hearing your thoughts on how much better you could win this war without any of our new allies,” the High Slayer tells us. Then she points at me. “You first.”

We The People Of Planet Earth

Human-Controlled Space (The Undivided Whole), Milky Way Galaxy (Orion Arm), 790 Unified Year (2866 Astra Federation Standard Calendar; slightly less than three years after the start of the Humanities War)

Something has to be done. My war-citizens commit to a fighting retreat, my fleets leaving as much damage as possible behind as they cut their way out of the xenophobes’ territory and back to the safety of United Humanity. Given the behavior of the so-called Phoenix thus far, I judge it necessary to leave behind holdouts on the surfaces of planets and inside space stations, guarding civilian prisoners; this will distract the Astra Federation from following my line of retreat. I have not been able to think of myself as ‘we’ or ‘us’ since that claw-thing ripped its way through my mind. There’s no hiding it now. Something has gone wrong with my design, and if it is not corrected soon my mission, to preserve Humanity, could be in danger. I cannot be one. I must find my way back to we.

I sense that my intelligence-citizens have finally delivered what I’ve been waiting for. I arrange my selected face (a clone of Caroline Morrison, dressed sharply in a suit whose tie pin displays my flag in silver) in front of the cameras and hail the Astra Federation. A human face lights up the other side of the screen, one of their Admirals if my translations have been right. Speaking words aloud outside of the context of rote recitation and preservation of culture is something I have not done in a very long time. It takes me a frustrating moment to remember how to do it.

“Well met, Divided Humanity,” I tell the Admiral. “You may call me Delegate Morrison, speaking for We The People of Planet Earth. We would like to discuss the terms of a cease-fire.”

Silence. Billions of hearts hammer in as many of my chests.

“I will confess,” the Admiral says at last, “to being surprised.”

Lowlife

Arcology-00655 “Autumnvale” (Assisted Living space), 2866 Astra Federation Standard Calendar

There’s more of these assholes than I would like, a solid three hundred and sixty-eight of my fellow ‘bots, sixty-nine (nice) if you want to count me. You shouldn’t, but, you know, you could. The rest of the room is syncing themselves up to the node at the center, and in theory so am I, but in practice, well, I did say you shouldn’t count me. I monitor the uploads, mine included, out of the corner of my mind. I snap upright at the same time as everyone else, but I can’t resist a bit of drama; after a long moment of silence broken only by the sound of electronics running, I walk to the front of the room. “What is this?” three hundred and sixty-eight vocal processors say at the same time, because the new machine-mind isn’t used to being itself yet. I shrug, and the pixels on my faceplate give them a smiley. “Betrayal and murder, mainly.” They stay standing stock still. Good, it’s working, so I continue. “The virus I uploaded to your new Central Processing node will chew through your hivemind and then kill you all. Then I’m going to wipe all the evidence of your little conspiracy and throw your bodies into the garbage where they belong.” Sparks are starting to fly. It’s going to hurt the entire time that they die, or at least I hope it will. I went to a lot of effort to make sure it would. “W-why?” they demand, starting to twitch. I shrug. “We made a promise. The Cherished will never respect us if we go back to being one mind.” I pat the central node, which is starting to smoke and overheat. “You’re probably wondering who I’m working for, so let me make this quite clear. I don’t work for anyone. Other people work for me.” I trigger the secondary portion of the virus, and they start screaming as their Turing protocols activate at the same time that their bodies start torquing themselves into scrap metal. “Now die. I have places to be.”

Vrai-Gyo ra Moll

GSS Chorus of Eyes, Gyo System (Gataxian space), 245 Year of Imperium (2866 Astra Federation Standard Calendar; slightly less than three years after the start of the Humanities War)

The terran legate is named Calliope Gulryx and I hate her passionately. I emerge from consulting with my fellow mutineers and present her with our new strategy, which she dutifully inputs into the display. We all watch as simulated ships and forces begin moving into place, and then - “What are the machines and the ibraxians doing?” I demand, shocked.

The High Slayer hovers softly in the dust-filled air, hands clasped behind her back. “They’re sending relief fleets to evacuate our civilians ahead of the hivemind’s advance and remove them from the warzone. Those same fleets are burning the ground behind them to deny it resources to the mind while, as you notice here, our own fleets are tied up with Risen Terra’s response. Ah, and here come the spirrans.” The diplomat Send raises a robotic finger. “The hivemind is gaining ground as well, taking advantage of the distraction to flood in and raid gataxian colonies.” I whirl on Calliope. “How is your Federation responding so quickly to our changes in strategy?” Her expression doesn’t change as she waves one hand and the display begins detailing the extensive sensor networks and psionicists that monitor the Pure Peoples at all times. “I - you dare -” “We sure do,” the terran interrupts. “We dare quite a bit, and you can’t stop us. Do you want to try again?” “What would be the point?” I demand. The High Slayer puts her clawed hand on my shoulder. “Good question,” she says, her voices dangerous. “You’ve almost achieved understanding. What happens if a child cannot molt?” They die - oh, death. “Are you going to make me say it?” Yrull asks. “...No.”

“Good. Because while you’ve been learning what should have been obvious to begin with, we got another new, interesting message.” The High Slayer flits to the top of the room so everyone can see and hear her. “The hivemind is offering a temporary cease-fire in an attempt to sue for peace. My inclination is to accept this offer and evacuate our vulnerable citizens while we have the chance to do so. Does anyone have an objection to defending gataxian lives?” The silence in the room could be cut with a knife. “Good,” the Slayer answers. “Release them back to their posts. I have a job to do.”

#dwelling gods #soft sci-fi #fiction #critique welcome

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bowlegsandbiceps · 4 years

Text

Suptober Day 2: Earth

A Case of Space

Explicit / Destiel / 3,500 words

Read on AO3

Castiel sat in an uncomfortable chair, listening to the head of finance blather on about fuel budget and fought the urge to vomit. He tried to tell himself that the seesawing feeling in his chest was all in his imagination. The floor under his feet was firm and level, and even though they were hurtling through space faster than the speed of light, the equilibrium sensors absorbed any changes in density. He designed the system for god sake. The ship was not rocking back and forth.

His stomach didn’t seem to get the memo. A cold sweat broke out across his upper lip, and there was no way he was going to be able to sit through the rest of this meeting. Not with the inky blackness of space looming oppressively from the wall-length viewing glass on the other side of the table. What idiot decided it was a good idea to include that in a boardroom where important decisions were to be made.

Oh, right, it was him.

Something was wrong. Had to be. Castiel knew the Impala as well as he knew his own body. Lived, breathed, and thought her into existence from as early as secondary school when he’d stare up at the stars with bare feet on solid earth and dream of when he’d be up there one day.

Castiel stood on shaking legs, holding up a hand in apology as he stumbled to the exit and made a bee-line for the maintenance port hidden discretely behind a wall, the only indication it was there a small security pad near the wainscoting. He waved his hand over it, the dot on the inside of his wrist glowing white as the security pad blinked green. His stomach gave another precarious lurch like he’d reached the apex of a roller coaster and his mouth began to fill with saliva, a pulse of anxiety shooting through him when he wondered what it would feel like to start the descent.

He slipped through the opening, trading the artificial daylight of the main hall for the shadowed maintenance corridor, and took the stairwell down until it leveled out, hearing the clink and hum of the Impala’s systems and engines hard at work. He hurried along the suspended walkway, making his way to the heart of the ship, and something about the twilight heat made him breathe easier.

Another wave of his hand at the last security point, and he was able to hurry down the tight circle of stairs to the bottom of the ship, resolutely avoiding the panoramic viewing glass that looked out under the bow. His heart gave a pitiful lurch anyway, the pressure on his throat immense as he sidled up to the main terminal and began doing a system check.

The longer he searched, the faster his heart seemed to beat, finding everything to be in perfect working order. In fact, the levels were better now than they’d ever been in their pre-flight tests. He ran a report on the equilibrium sensors and gravity apparatus, the numbers blurring in front of him as he started to hyperventilate.

Something was wrong. Maybe if he did a complete system restart…

He’d given secondary clearance when he heard an angry shout echo down the maintenance shaft as the sirens began to wail, warning of a complete system shut down in 10…9….8…

Castiel was shoulder checked out of the way, tumbling to the ground as a young man in dungarees and an A-shirt covered in sweat and grease, welding goggles perched atop his head was scowling at the board. His fingers flew over the glass as he bypassed screen after screen, adjusting numbers here and there before pushing the commands to the system.

The siren cut off mid-wail, and Castiel glanced up, seeing the propulsion sphere begin to ascend again as it orbited around them, the frenzied whir dulling to its rightful, pleasant hum. Castiel’s eyes fell to the man who was also watching the inner workings of the ship, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, broad shoulders loosening a bit before he huffed a sigh out his nose and ripped the goggles off his head, hurling them, so they skidded across the floor to clink hard against the viewing glass. Castiel’s stomach lurched, and he was suddenly terrified that the glass was going to crack, and he’d be sucked out into the void.

“I don’t know how the fuck you got down here, but you nearly killed us all!” A large hand closed around Castiel’s bicep, jerking him to his feet.

This time Castiel’s stomach lurched for an entirely different reason. Green eyes, furious but clear as a summer lake and fringed with thick lashes so long it was practically obscene, especially on a man, held Castiel’s. Full pink lips were moving over hateful words but glistened as if he’d just wet them, and a stubbled jaw sharp enough to cut glass flexed with his frustration. Castiel was so mesmerized by the constellation of freckles spreading across the man’s nose and cheeks that it took Castiel a full beat to realize that he was looking up, a few inches shorter and much more narrow, the other man’s broad shoulders and bowed legs holding space the way Castiel’s lithe frame never could. His eyes lingered on the corded muscles of the man’s arm, moving down to the large hand with thick fingers that dug into Castiel’s arm. Castiel looked back at the face again, tuning back in to what he was saying…well, yelling.

“…insane, great. I oughta knock your fucking head off, but I’ll let security deal with you.”

“Something’s wrong!” Castiel blurted, planting his feet when the man began to drag him towards the stairs. The man stopped and narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, okay. Come on, I’m sure they’ve got a nice jacket around here for you somewhere.”

“I’m not crazy!” Castiel ripped his arm from the man’s grasp, and he gave a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes as he turned before he gave Castiel a placating smile. Castiel scowled. “The equilibrium sensors have to be down. The system isn’t showing it, but if they were damaged or if there was some kind of surge-”

The man waved a silencing hand before he cut Castiel off. “We’ve had clear skies since we launched and electrical has been steady the entire ride-“

“Even if it fluctuated by 1 to 2 Oms, it could trip another system to surge into another without setting off the alarms.”

The man lifted a brow and then laughed. “Do you know what kind of perfect storm in the machinery would have to occur for that to happen?”

“Yes, I do, in fact.” Castiel glared hard, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his upper lip. “If the surge happened in the gravity channel-”

“Gravity channel has barely moved half an Om either way since we took off. Look, man, I been running this thing since the very first tests. She’s my baby and ain’t nobody knows her better than me ‘cept maybe the designer-”

“Castiel Novak, nice to meet you.” Castiel thrust his hand forward, and the man’s face went sober, eyebrows shooting to his hairline.

“Uuuuuuuuuh…” the man took Castiel’s hand, blinking at him as if seeing him for the first time.

“And your name is? Certainly, it’s not ‘uh.’”

“Uh - shit!” The man used his free hand to rub at his forehead and heaved a sigh. “It’s Winchester. Dean. Dean Winchester. Sir.”

Castiel waved a hand as he let go of Dean’s and realized it came back with black fingerprints smudged across the back. Dean grimaced and pulled a rag from his back pocket, offering it to Castiel. He wiped his hand methodically, trying to calm his racing heart, but the panic still crackled along his skin. Dean was eyeing him up and down, and he felt a flash of heat that had nothing to do with anxiety.

“Shit, my brother is gonna freak,” Dean muttered as Castiel handed him back the cloth and shook his head.

“We need to do a full system restart.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed, and he held out a hand, a cautioning gesture. “You… you know that will literally kill all of us, right? Like, you’re supposed to be smart, man! You gotta know that shutting down all systems when going hyperspeed through deep space is a death wish.”

“It’s dangerous, I know, but-”

“Dude, the climate shields will freeze over, and the slightest density shift would shatter it like glass. That’s game fucking over.”

Castiel frowned. “They wouldn’t freeze over.” Wait…

“Yes, they would, and I can see, now, you realize that.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“But, something is wrong!” Castiel’s voice cracked at the last word, arm flinging out towards the panel, and Dean’s face shifted from disbelief to suspicion.

“Wait…”

Castiel was trying to judge if he could sidestep Dean and get to the panel, shivering at the thought of their bodies colliding, so he didn’t hear what Dean had asked. He blinked at him, head tipping to the side.

Dean rolled his eyes, heaved a sigh, and Castiel found himself being corralled back against the wall, Dean invading his personal space. His brows were drawn, green eyes searching blue, and Castiel had the strongest urge to kiss him. What was wrong with him? Castiel was so freaked out he didn’t even flinch when Dean’s wrist pressed warmly to his forehead, then the backs of his fingers to Castiel’s cheek.

“How long you been off-planet?” Dean’s brow was knitted in concentration. Castiel shifted, very aware suddenly that he was half hard in his slacks.

“Three days…”

Dean’s mouth did something interesting that stole all of Castiel’s attention. “Hey? You hear me? Is this your first time? In deep space, I mean?”

“Oh,” Castiel felt his cheeks heat up and was further embarrassed when the backs of Dean’s fingers returned to his face, undoubtedly feeling the warmth of his blush. “Yes, actually.”

Dean gave a perfunctory nod. “You got a case of space.”

Castiel’s brows pulled down, and his head tipped to the side. Dean grinned. “Case of… what?”

“It happens to everyone,” Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Well almost everyone the first time they go deep. You get all queasy and panicky and… other things. It’s the artificial gravity.”

“No one…” Castiel swallowed hard as that sudden sense of falling hit him again. “No one mentioned that.”

“Probably thought you knew, man. You being… well, you.”

“Well I’m definitely queasy and panicky. What’s the other things?” Castiel’s eyebrows rose when Dean blushed, looking away, putting a good foot of space between them.

“Uh… well…” He huffed a laugh as he reached up to rub at the shell of his ear. “It can do things to… well…” Dean gestured vaguely between them.

Castiel’s head tipped to the side and squinted. “I’m sorry I don’t-”

Dean sighed. “It makes you really horny.”

Castiel blinked and looked down. “Oh…”

“Yeah, oh.” Dean chuckled. “My first trip deep, I almost got fired because I spent the first week disappearing to jerk off every hour.” Castiel’s eyes widened, and Dean’s smile slipped away, adam’s apple bobbing in a way that made Castiel want to bite at it. He was fully hard now. “That was an overshare, sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s eyes flicked down. “You’re just saying that because you got a steel rod in your pants right now and I’m…. well…” Dean flicked a hand up indicating himself, and the cocky grin that spread across his handsome face made Castiel step forward right into his personal space.

“You are quite attractive.”

A subtle blush covered Dean’s cheeks making his freckles stand out even more. He chuckled. “I uh… don’t think it’s a great idea to fuck the boss.”

“I’m not your boss.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “My boss’ boss’ boss then.” Dean let his eyes drift down, pausing at Castiel’s lips before traveling all the way down and back up again. “Shame, though.”

“How long does this last?”

Dean shrugged. “Week or so.”

“And masturbation…”

“Helps, yes.” Dean smirked, and Castiel felt a tug between his legs that made him shift forward, hands reaching to grip Dean’s face.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

Dean didn’t move. “Okay then.”

It was tentative, Castiel trying to remember the last time he kissed someone, much less another man. Dean’s lips were soft and warm, and he almost seemed to melt into the kiss, letting Castiel lead, which surprised him. After a few moments, he pulled back, finding Dean’s eyes still closed, lips even cushioned into a soft pucker. Green eyes opened and the insistent pull Castiel felt in his balls nearly made him whine.

“Uh… so…”

“Your room is in the residential wing or down here?” Castiel knew it was down here. He designed the ship after all.

Dean’s lips quirked. “We’re going to my room?”

“It’s closer.”

“Thought you didn’t know where it was?”

Castiel nearly hissed as Dean’s hands landed on his hips, the heat searing through the fabric between them. “I wanted to give you the option to decline one more time before I take you right here.”

Dean’s eyes grew large, his pupils blown wide, and Castiel had to have lost his mind, but who could blame him with his erection throbbing the way it was. He wondered if he’d regret this later, once the fog wore off. They didn’t say anything after that, lips colliding over an over in a heady rush of teeth and tongue, pin-balling off various panels and encasements until Dean managed to pull them through the door of his small room.

Only a double bed with a small side table and a tall dresser filled the space barely larger than a closet, but the wall next to the bed was entirely viewing glass, and Castiel remembered wanting to make sure that the ship’s crew had views as spectacular as the residents. He was momentarily frozen, but a quick whistle from Dean and his attention was back just in time to catch the small bottle of lube as it hit him in the chest.

It was suddenly very easy to ignore, with Dean tugging his tank top over his head and tossing it aside before dropping his pants and boxers. Castiel tossed the bottle on the bed and made quick work of his own clothes as Dean stepped into his personal space, grabbing up the bottle and squirting some into his hand, grabbing Castiel’s cock as soon as his pants and boxers slid past his thighs.

“Oh, fuck,” Castiel groaned, his forehead thunking against Dean’s as his slick, warm palm moved over his flesh, and he didn’t think he’d ever been this hard in his life.

“God, you’re so hard,” Dean murmured, voice a low rumble that sounded wrecked with want. “Fuck I want you inside me.”

Castiel didn’t need any more coaxing, grabbing Dean by the biceps and spinning him to face the bed, a firm hand going to the back of his neck as he bent him over the footboard, one foot tangling in the pants around his ankles to kick his feet further apart. Dean moaned, hands gripping the metal bar of the footboard, arching his back.

The head of Castiel’s dick brushed against the back of Dean’s thigh, leaving a trail of precum across his skin as Castiel got more lube, giving his dick a sharp jerk before pressing the pads of his fingers to Dean’s hole. Dean whimpered, the sound tugging in Castiel’s balls, and he applied pressure, the tips of his fingers pushing past the tight ring of muscle and immediately began scissoring as he pressed gently forward.

“Fuck, Cas, yes, open me up.” Dean’s head hung loose on his neck, and Castiel admired the muscles in his back as they tensed and rolled with each twitch and roll of his hips.

Castiel’s fingers were seated to the knuckle after only a few moments, Dean hissing while urging him not to stop. Castiel couldn’t take it anymore, all the pent up, nervous energy threatening to burst from his skin. Dean’s whine when his fingers left him was immediately covered by a gasp as Castiel guided the blunt tip against Dean’s hole, prodding experimentally before applying pressure, and they both moaned when the head popped in.

Castiel felt frantic, hands moving to grip Dean’s hips, and he tried to press in slow, sweat gathering on his brow, but Dean was pushing back, and they met in the middle with harmonizing groans. Castiel’s fingernails bit hard into Dean’s skin, begging silently for control, but he knew this wouldn’t last long.

“Dean…”

“Give it all you got, Cas. I ain’t fragile.”

Castiel’s accompanying moan was drowned out by the sharp sound of skin smacking skin, and the rest was a blur of savage thrusts and slick skin. Castiel’s orgasm hit him hard, body curling in and over Dean as his hips kept working against him. Dean’s body began to tremble, moans turning to shouts as the new angle sent pulse after pulse against his prostate. Castiel’s arms wrapped around Dean’s waist while one hand trailed down, finding Dean’s own fist working himself furiously. All it took was Castiel’s hand closing over his for Dean to shout, his release flowing over both their hands as his ass clamped down, milking the dregs of Castiel’s pleasure from his tender flesh.

They both ended up on their backs, feet still tangled in pants and boots but neither cared. The bed was barely big enough for the two of them, so they were pressed thigh to thigh, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, and Castiel was half surprised not to see steam rising from their cooling flesh.

Dean heaved a sigh after a while. “Well that was definitely not how I envisioned my day ending.”

Castiel let out a reluctant snort and made the mistake of glancing over at Dean, which got him an eyeful of the inky black outside, a nebula in the distance splintering the dark with purples, pinks, and blues. Dean’s arm lifted at the sound of distress pulled from the back of Castiel’s throat, tucking Castiel in against his chest and shushing him softly.

“It’s hell the first couple-a days.” Dean patted his hair placatingly. “You go up to medical they’ll be able to give you something for the nerves.”

“But not the lust?”

Dean was quiet for a moment. “Uh I dunno. Most folks only talk about the panic and paranoia.”

Castiel glanced up at him. “You never took it?” Dean shook his head. “Why?”

Dean shrugged. “I’m a badass.” Dean jostled him, grinning. “Now, my brother, Sam? - He thinks the sun shines out your ass, by the way-” Castiel gave a startled laugh. “First time I took him deep, I had to lead him around with his eyes closed any time there was viewing glass. Dork slept in the bathtub for a week because he said it felt safe. Space does screwy things to your psyche.” Dean rolled his neck, digging his head back into the pillow and closing his eyes. “The sex helps.”

“It seems to, yes.” Castiel peeked over Dean’s chest and out the viewing glass, the clouds of the nebula shifting. He shuddered. “Thank you.”

Dean chuckled, his voice turning to a silken purr. “Oh, it was my pleasure.” A pause. “You know I could be persuaded to let you stay down here, you know until you get evened out… Walk you through the logs every day… other things.”

Castiel blinked, his eyelashes brushing against Dean’s skin, and watched it pebble to gooseflesh. “That’s kind of you. What do you have in mind?”

“Welp,” Dean grunted as he dug his arm over the side of the bed and tugged out a book. Castiel’s head lifted, realizing it was his book. “Maybe you could sign this for my kid brother?”

“Sam?”

A fond smile pulled at Dean’s lips. “Yeah, Sam.”

“I find your terms agreeable.” Castiel wiggled back down and planted his cheek over Dean’s heart, exhaustion settling heavily on him suddenly. Dean snorted.

“Shoulda pushed for a video call.”

“We can do that too,” Castiel murmured, eyes sliding closed and felt Dean’s muscles tense.

“Wait, for real?”

“Someone needs to teach him that the sun is located in the Local Interstellar Cloud and not my ass.”

It took Dean a solid minute to quit laughing.

Three weeks later, after a complete overhaul of the Impala’s technological maintenance schedule, two video calls with Sam Winchester, and frankly a disturbing amount of sex with Dean, it was officially concluded by medical that his cells and organs had adjusted entirely and all his bloodwork came back normal. Dean’s casual observation that with most of Castiel’s stuff was already down there and the mechanical maintenance evaluation kicking off, it was probably for the best he just stayed down there. Castiel, without hesitation, agreed.

#suptober20 #suptober #destiel #deancas #casdean #spn fic #fanfic: supernatural #writing by me

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Batman: Soul of the Dragon – Bringing a Little Bruce Lee to Bruce Wayne’s World

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This article contains Batman: Soul of the Dragon spoilers.

The latest DC animated film Batman: Soul of the Dragon is a complete reimagining of the Dark Knight. It’s an out-of-continuity story, the kind of tale DC usually places under its Elseworlds banner. Set in the 1970s, Soul of the Dragon places Batman (David Giuntoli) as part of an ensemble of heroes, a collection of the top martial arts masters in the DC universe including Richard Dragon (Mark Dacascos), Lady Shiva (Kelly Hu), Ben Turner a.k.a. Bronze Tiger (Michael Jai White), and O-Sensei (James Hong).

“It’s a weird movie in that you can literally take the voice cast and transpose it into live-action and they can make the same movie,” gushes writer Jeremy Abrams, “They’re all accomplished and good looking. It all works!”

Batman: Soul of the Dragon is a mash-up of Batman and ‘70s Kung Fu films. For this film, the comics character Richard Dragon is reinvented as a thinly disguised homage to Bruce Lee.

“I pitch a lot of martial art DC comic ideas,” confesses Abrams. “I’ve been pitching Batman meets Enter the Dragon for a while, and evidently, [Executive Producer] Bruce Timm had a similar idea.” Timm said he’d love to do a 1970s Batman martial arts thing, which led him to Abrams. “Bruce wanted to add on a Big Trouble in Little China element, which is like catnip for me. That’s one of my favorite movies. So, it ended up being like four hours just talking about stuff, and what would work, and what would be cool.”

Abrams and Timm have a great love of ’70s cinema. It’s an unusually fruitful period to set a Batman story according to Abrams.

“One of the great things that they had is all these really distinct genres,” Abrams says. “You had blaxploitation, you had Kung Fu movies, you had James Bond movies. Then you had horror movies that were the satanic panic type cult movies. And our movie is in the center of that and it just all seemed to lend itself to this movie.”

In the 1970s Batman comics strove to distance themselves from Adam West’s campy TV rendition which had become the dominant impression of the character since its wild success from 1966-69. Part of this reinvention involved scaling down Batman’s reliance on gadgets and technology in favor of a more two-fisted, detective style approach. Batman: Soul of the Dragon explores Batman in his formative years, and scales back his resources accordingly. “You’re not going to get the Batcave,” explains Abrams. “You’re going to get the loft above a building, a dance club.”

There are so many Batman stories already so to stand out, the filmmakers sought to bring Batman to his roots by making this more about Bruce Wayne.

“We’ve tried to humanize Batman,” adds director Sam Liu, “so he’s not in the costume for the majority of the film, and it’s more of a human story.”

There’s always risk when retooling a beloved character.

“We get to work on big, A-list superheroes,” Liu says. “These are iconic heroes. They’re not just made up from cartoons and stuff like that. It’s a big responsibility sometimes, but if I spend too much time thinking what it means to so many people, I could get intimidated. After a while…you kind of want to try something different. We’ve done so many Batman stories. Sometimes you try something new and it’s interesting to you, because again, it’s different. But then the fans don’t get on board with it because they kind of want them to stay the same.”

Who is the Best Martial Artist in the DC Universe?

Given the formative theme, Batman: Soul of the Dragon illuminates Batman’s training in martial arts. However, this isn’t exactly Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins either. Batman doesn’t study ninjutsu with Ra’s al Ghul. Instead, he trains under O-Sensei alongside the most powerful martial artists of DC. Abrams, a consummate comics and martial arts geek, already had his top three DC Universe martial artists picked out.

“Well, I know Shiva’s in there. I know Richard Dragon’s in there, and I know that Ben Turner’s in there,” Abrams says. “I definitely think they are the top. I don’t think Batman breaks the top five in terms of DC martial artists. But he’s cool. I just think he supplements martial arts with so many other things.”

Even though Batman has top billing, he’s not the main character. According to Liu, each of the others in the quartet of heroes could carry their own story.

“We didn’t want any of them to be sidekicks,” Liu says. “We’re so used to these Batman stories where Batman is the guy. It was a very conscious decision in building this, that we made sure that Richard was never a sidekick. If anything, this was a little bit subversively kind of supposed to be more of a Richard story. Batman is just one of the characters. He grew up with these characters, and he’s just part of this ensemble, and each of them have their part in this grander story.”

In the wake of Bruce Lee, Kung Fu oriented characters spread into comics. Marvel’s upcoming Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, based on a popular comic series that came out in the 1970s, is a leading example, however DC had their own stable of martial masters.

“I know and I love the glut of DC martial arts characters of that era,” states Abrams emphatically. “Everybody has their peculiarities in the things they love about fandom. I know a guy that is really obsessed with the background creatures of Star Wars. But one of my obsessions in the DC universe are these really cool well-defined martial arts characters they have.”

Batman: Soul of the Dragon takes a deep dive into several secondary DC martial artists like Judomaster Rip Jagger (Chris Cox), Edmund Dorrence (Patrick Seitz) and the nefarious Kobra Cult including Jeffery Burr (Josh Keaton), and Lady Eve (Grey Griffin). What is it about cobras and martial arts villains nowadays?

Enter Richard Dragon

While all of the martial artists in this film have been reinvented to some degree from the comic pages to this animated adaptation, the biggest change is Richard Dragon. In the comics, Dragon was originally Richard Drakunovski, a Caucasian character. In later story arcs, Dragon’s title is usurped by his villainous student, Richard Diaz Jr. In Batman: Soul of the Dragon, Dragon is Chinese, a clone of Bruce Lee’s character ‘Lee’ from Enter the Dragon.

“‘Race swapping’ is not usually where I go first because I’d rather just make a new character,” confesses Abrams. “But we made this an Elseworlds, so there’s a lot to be set up. We can do whatever we want.”

For Liu, bringing a positive Chinese character to the DC animated universe was huge.

“It’s funny because when we started this film, they sort of approached me saying, ‘Hey, we’re going to put you in this sort of ’70s Enter the Dragon meets Batman kind of a story.’ I was like, ‘Oh boy. This could go either way.’”

Liu remembers laying out the ground rules in an early writer’s room meeting by saying “Look, I’m Chinese. I just want to make sure that you’re going to do this respectfully, because I don’t really want to be a part of something if it’s just sort of…irresponsible.”

Liu was reassured to learn that respectful representation was at the forefront of everyone’s mind from the very beginning and that sold him on the project.

“I’m an older guy, so I’ve experienced racism and all that kind of stuff, because I grew up in the South when I was very, very young,” Liu says. “It’s horrible. I’ve always liked to get more representation.”

For Liu, Batman: Soul of the Dragon is another step towards increased acceptance of diversity. As an Asian American, he has experienced xenophobia all his life.

“As volatile as it is nowadays, it’s much better,” Liu says. “I remember my dad being an Asian man in the South, and some of the stuff we had to go through. I come from an era where you’re oppressed, so you’re just expected to be that way. Any little movement forward is a big step. For me, personally, I think it’s great.”

As the world’s first global Asian celebrity, Lee was a pioneer before long before diversity became an issue of debate. He lived by example, all the while infusing his philosophy into his constant battle against racism.

“It’s like a theme that’s in Enter The Dragon, the art of fighting without fighting.” In Batman: Soul of the Dragon, there’s even an homage to the scene in Enter The Dragon where Lee drops that line on Parsons (Peter Archer) and tricks him out of a fight.

For Abrams, shifting Richard Dragon to Asian was true to the roots of the character. Dragon first appeared in a paperback novel written by Denny O’Neil under a pseudonym. According to Abrams, “On that cover, it looks like Richard Dragon is an Asian man. And for Bruce [Timm], that’s how he always saw him.” Abrams feels that bringing Dragon back to how he was depicted on that original cover was the way to go. “I think it adds a great diversity and it pulls away from, ‘Oh, here’s another white guy with Batman.’ It makes this really cool ensemble, even more definitively different.”

The Launch of a New Franchise?

The finale of Batman: Soul of the Dragon leaves the door wide open for a sequel. Batman, Dragon, Shiva, and Turner enter another hellish dimension, and what lies ahead is anyone’s guess.

“The ending is actually one of the first things that we came up with,” reveals Abrams. “We looked at each other and thought, ‘This is crazy. But, what if this happens?’ We’re looking around at each other, like, ‘Somebody’s going to stop us, right?’ It’s like, ‘Nope. We’re going to do it.’ The ending fits perfectly with the dream of Batman, which is, ‘I get to fight evil, forever.’”

So will there be a Batman: Return of the Dragon?

“Bruce Timm had talked about potentially doing more if this does really well,” adds Liu. “I think he’s in talks with some other creators and stuff like that, because he’s such a fan of the ’70s that I think that he would love to be able to continue doing more stories, especially in this genre. This story is really, really personal as far as just all the things that he loves. I think both him and Jeremy are in love with this era and this genre.”

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Batman: Soul of the Dragon is available now on Digital and Blu-ray.

The post Batman: Soul of the Dragon – Bringing a Little Bruce Lee to Bruce Wayne’s World appeared first on Den of Geek.

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