#Secret Spiral of Swamp Kid

[number9robotic]

Random personal character/worldbuilding

I wanted to design at some point an original roster of fighting game characters and my life spiralled out of control thinking of new ideas so I gotta share what I got:

Pitch: It's about a group of superpowered teens who get sent to a school training them how to be good superVILLAINS.

Slightly more specifics: The world is like ours but there are supers around. There exists a school for "superpowered opportunists" that is ostensibly to raise up-and-coming supers but is very transparently corrupt and just a legally-permissible way to raise future allies to whatever mustache-twirling nonsense they have cooking up. The students are sourced from all over the world and are mostly good kids, but they have wild powers to deal with that are very easy to look at and go "yep, they're born to join the dark side."

Character list at the moment:

"Anti" (Canadian), timid but ambitious, well-behaved, reasonably "normal" kid from the suburbs who discovered that their shadow is alive, and can rise up and kill people. Was involuntarily sent to the school by their parents who believed it would be a good fit, for better and for worse. Now basically trying to survive. Fights with a quarterstaff, shadow deals its own attacks, turns staff into a scythe and other scary sharp things, wants its host to join in the fun.

"Hellgirl" ("Eastern European"), a princess to an impoverished noble family who -- in a desperate bid for power -- sacrificed her as part of a draconic ritual, with her coming back as this cursed half-dragon that has to be bound in magic tampering chains to stop her from ripping peoples' heads off. Genuinely a proper lady and actually kind of a sweetheart when lucid. Requires a buncha physical accomodations but can still fight even when in chains. Also, breathes hellfire. Cool beans.

"Smoggy/The Vigilante Smog Monster" (Australian), a living swamp monster summoned by an Aboriginal tribe who believed him to be a guardian spirit, and though he had no idea what they were talking about, he remained their guardian until he was separated and stumbled into scouting agents for the school. Shifts between a gross, sludgy humanoid form and horror smoke with the power of ancient wooden masks he keeps around him. Huge and imposing, but surprisingly a pretty swell dude.

"IDKYS/I Don't Know You, Sorry" (Filipino), aspiring would-be idol whose voice has overpowering hypnotic properties -- got enrolled in the school in order for her to develop her skillset without it. Ostensibly like a "cute mute" sorta scholarly student, actually very, very salty. Wears a cool mask that converts her voice to text and then back to into monotone text-to-speech (for safety reasons), is also rigged to an amplifier mic on a stand that she wields like a mace, has the power to blast people apart with SFX.

"Twintails" (Japanese), a transforming kitsune wizard/ninja who is two separate people from different secretive clans in one: a male wizard and a female ninja, who got "fused" together by a trickster yokai that caused them to share the same body, swapping between identities whenever they sneeze. They're both aware of each other and hate each other, habitually accusing the other for being the imposter yokai cohabiting their body, but are forced to work together to make it work.

"Metal Alice" (French), what was once the innocent young daughter to a supervillain, who perished following his last evil plan gone wrong. After attempting to resurrect her, Little Alice's spirit was "restored" into an old doll-like animatronic, which is itself now a walking portal to the ghost dimension. Is able to draw various weapons of phantasmic metals out of her body, from speared parasols to chainsaws. The "cute" kind of scary!

"Magnum" (American), the newest cyborg prototype from a company for mad scientist tech, designed of indestructible metals. Has the power to explode virtually any joint in his body like a bomb before automatically reassembling. Does it to fire his fingers/arms like projectiles, and is also a grappler. Was sent to the school to fix his raging ego problem. Speaks and dresses like a cowboy and has a nice hat. Deal with it.

"Hotshot" (Chinese), a guy who thinks and acts like he's the "shotoclone" protagonist of a normal fighting game (arrogant young martial artist with fire powers and always rearing for a fight), but is too arrogant to realize that this isn't the kind of story he's in (and also that he's a jackass). Despite this, he's very popular by way of the popular jock/bully who's a total dickhead but also so cooooool, and definitely the best student at a straight-on fight.

"Vioelectrolysis" (Motswana), a mad scientist in training who just LOVES making her crazy super-chemicals technicolor and do weird and unexpected things. Carries a bunch of it around in this modified fire extinguisher/gas tank that she can use to spray various super-fluids or swing around like a flail. Has a gas mask for her own protection; may or may not have mutated herself with something cool at some point.

"Marmaron" (Greek), an incomplete statue of a marble-like material that accidentally came to life while being made by a mysterious artist that Marmaron proceeded to kill, supposedly in self-defense. Doesn't have a face or a finished hand, splashed paint where his face should be to look even scarier presentable. Has the power to turn people into stone, but only temporarily. Spends his time minding his own business with painting and poetry, doesn't mind that everyone thinks he's creepy as hell.

[siremasterlawrence]

Just Press Play request by @spiralteewriter

Thomas Hardy is a hard working guy finally about to relax after a long day when he sees his son waltz into the home and he ignores him.

Angrily he rolls his eyes pounding after him in total annoyance opening the swinging door of the kitchen and bounces into the living room.

When he saw is the complete opposite of his expectations a new video game system according to the box it the Hypno Tech V 5 and special edition.

He places the box down accidentally hitting the remote as television blurts on with an old static like buzz breaking through at him with no issues.

Soon the emblem of a multicolor spiral rush at him beginning to spin his mind twist and twirls causing him into a fallen state as he drop to the couch.

He is lost unable to do anything except to stare at the scene a thunderously loud ping could be heard coming from the system and straight to him.

Crashing into his ears his body shook upon it instantly hitting him at his core he can’t do anything but obey deep down inside what he is.

The screen switches the system demands his presses play, he pushes the x button as the room is now in lights and the color over took the entirety of the room.

His hands are now glued to the controller as he picks it up holding it tightly not even aware of the fact that the screen is shooting out a ray scanning his body to exact body specifications.

The scanning stops saying uploading as it changes image to image the countdown is about to begin and once it hits one his eyes close.

On the side of his wall the kid formerly his son watches on in a thrill of excitement as his dad’s head drops, his dick springs to action and an avatar of his appears on the screen.

The system transforms with golden light as it projections every bit of information on him online hacking through his banks encryption and connecting his information.

Two strapping and tall men walk in through his door into his home are at his sides one takes his hand forces him to robotically sign a lengthy form on a pad.

The pad shut down rebooting with his name on it center stage his body totally let’s go and shuts down falling into the men’s arms they grab his under arms.

They lift him upward then throw him on to the floor enjoying every moment they carry him out and load him into the back of the van.

Every single trace of him is now erased from the neighborhood and surrounding town as if he never existed but his kid so richly paid a compensation every month.

The van drives for miles into an open road on a secret alley back end off the highway so it stops and releases him to head down a single path.

They inform him of his short journey to a real paradise for men of no worth to find meaning in their lonely, tiresome and monotonous life.

Previously on Just Press Play, Thomas M Hardy discovers the joy of the power of a video game when he is uploaded as avatar onto The Hypno Tech video game system interface.

The minute he is upload a second ping hits even harder in one resounding noise flowing through the air ricocheting into every home in the area you can see a gold beam appear in different rooms.

Children and wives seem to fall immediately in to a deep trance but men’s eyes pop open feeling a deep need to sit up in bed and some need down the staircase to the living room.

The minute they see to the screen their over active minds slowly are corrupting deeply in a shroud of nothingness and a haze of red smoke consume him leaving me mindless in a weird way.

The minds slowly swing side to side, back to forth watching the television screen as the spiral appears swamping up their screens they can’t help but to walk over to chair plopping down onto the couch.

A strange young man transmit on to the screen sitting in his swinging chair with a wicked looking smile creeping over his face with evil intent.

“You can thank your neighbor for this”

“I am your boss”

“Your new creator “

“Smile for me and let’s begin your interface”

“Strip your clothes off”

“Kneel and let’s play a game while we wait”

“Yes Creator”

“Two men will walk in to your home “

“Sign the form and follow them”

“Get in the van “

“Rest for a short journey”

“Yes creator “

“The path is a few miles down “

“It’s a beautiful farm made for men like you”

“Good boi! Go get milked”

The end

[whowaswillow]

Backstory

After the passing of the late Ophelia Tempest Minyu (a previous character of mine). Tinbal  the Harengon uncovered an unfinished work. (Tinbal was the NPC lackey of our previous campaign)

The work he found was The Epic of Tinbal the author  was listed as Tempest .The story detailed the adventures of a group of mercenaries led by a simple Harengon. Who knows how he was able to control gravity, use a crossbow, and build magic constructs but he was a real Jack of all trades. His lackeys were lackluster to say the least. 

A man who never took off his armor who was convinced he could see the future.

A goblin whose only character trait was their big... wrench. 

An elf who refused to get a dirty. 

A fairy who spent all his time watching other people fight  but never engaging. 

And a bard who did nothing but write instead of play music.

What was the author thinking this cast of characters makes no sense at all!

But Tinbal never spoke of them in detail. Except for Ophelia. Though her name was spread through the kingdom of Anywhere as a hero, those who met her in the swamp had a different recollection. The cruelest king they ever had. Her infamy long out lived her. Even just uttering her name was like a curse to the older population. There was never another true king after her. Tinbal still called himself her royal advisor but the  toad kingdom respected him as their king in secret. 

Eventually Tasha and Lord Vandrin came back to the swamp. While trade routes were set and Vandrin was given power over the swamp he only requested that they respected Ophelia’s original decree to learn common, learn to farm, and embrace the arts.  Tasha aided in cleaning up the mess her sister made by blessing the once cursed breeding pools. 

As years passed Tinbal was just as famous as Agdon longscarf. He had all the power he could have wanted . Tinbal even invited other harengon to live in the swamp and soon it was a thriving society once again. He got married and had a couple of kids just as the remaining bullywugs did. 

One day one of Tinbal’s daughters fell in love with one of the sons of the Royal Tailor.  They took to the breeding pools on their wedding night as is tradition. They did not think it would actually result in a child. But Tasha’s magic was potent. 

Soon there was a child both Harengon and Bullywug. With tall ears, buck teeth, and a small rotund form Willowdart of Festerblight was born. The Epic was passed down through Tinbal’s lineage. So she received the unfinished book. 

She, like those before her, tried to push her grandfather, Tinbal to find out more about his younger days. But it was to no avail. At this point he was senile and claimed “the story lied” “that he never fought” “there were robots” “there were gods playing with mortals” “ Ophelia was human not a witch!” And snails oh , how he feared the snails. Any questions asked would lead him into a spiral of tears and rage. 

Willowdart was different though from those before her. She was the first of her lineage to be able read common with full comprehension and appreciation for the arts. It was obvious to her that the bard was none other than Ophelia the Duke of ich… King Ophelia the Terrible…the hero of the fairies. Not only that but the scaredy cat fairy is Lord Vandrin! There was more to this unfinished epic than Tinbal would admit. He would speak one truth to Willowdart: the author is no longer in the faewilds nor are they fae. 

Willowdart made the decision to visit the mortal realm. To seek out this Tempest. The author must surely have more information. It was a stretch to say the least. Though she was curious about the mystery surrounding her grandfather she also just wanted to go on an adventure just as he had.  Even if she doesn’t  find the author in the great big mortal world she will be satisfied returning with more stories. 

———————

When Willowdart came to the mortal realm she knew she needed to blend in. She kept her ears flat and under a hood and hoped no one would notice she has five webbed fingers on each hand instead of 3. Or her more prominent buck teeth that she kept hidden under a scarf. Many mistook her for a full blood bullywug or a fat grung. So she kept  it that way. 

When she asked locals about where she could find Tempest many told her to wait on the beach and a tempest would show up eventually. Little did she realize they meant a great storm. 

That’s exactly what Willowdart found her self trapped in . A great swirling vortex was headed her way. Fog creeped in around her. Within the fog the great old one spoke to her and promised her knowledge of all things . 

—— 

That was 8 months ago. WillowDart now lives as a nomad in the local swamp. It’s about time for her to get up and move again. After all the immortal snail is chasing her. 

[theharpermovieblog]

🎥THE COMPLETE 2023 MOVIE LIST🎥

(Without the Halloween and Christmas lists)

#HARPERSMOVIECOLLECTION

FILMS OF 2023

1. Banshees of Inisherin (2023)

2. The Visitor (1979)

3 The Hunt for Red October (1990)

4. The Four Seasons (1981)

5. The Burbs (1989)

6. The Blob (1958)

7. The Blob (1988)

8. Raging Bull (1980)

9. River's Edge (1986)

10. A Shot In The Dark (1964)

11. Violent Night (2022)

12. Pearl (2022)

13. It Happened One Night (1934)

14. Secretary (2002)

15. Dracula (1992)

16. Hard Target (1993)

17. Skinamarink (2022)

18. Head Of The Family (1996)

19. Rubber's Lover (1996)

20. Dr. No (1962)

21. Goldeneye (1995)

22. On The Silver Globe (1988)

23. Top Knot Detective (2016)

24. Fantastic Voyage (1966)

25. Crimes Of The Future (2022)

26. Get Carter (1971)

27. Dog Soldiers (2022)

28. Demon City Shinjuku (1988)

29. Death Line AKA: Raw Meat (1972)

30. Indian Jones and the Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull (2008)

31. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984)

32. Invaders From Mars (1953)

33. The Velvet Vampire (1971)

34. Cobra (1986)

35. Assault On Precinct 13 (1976)

36. Batman Returns (1992)

37. My Dinner With Andre (1981)

38. Beyond The Darkness (1979)

39. VIY (1967)

40. Communion (1989)

41. The Cable Guy (1996)

42. In The Mouth Of Madness (1994)

43. From Beyond (1986)

44. Wings Of Desire (1987)

45. The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension (1984)

46. The Living Dead At Manchester Morgue (1974)

47. The Man Who Would Be King (1975)

48. Casablanca (1942)

49. Swamp Thing (1982)

50. The Unbearable Weight Of Massive Talent (2022)

51. Cronos (1993)

52. Spiral (2021)

53. Boss Level (2020)

54. Kids In The Hall: Brain Candy (1996)

55. The Menu (2022)

56. Altered States (1980)

57. The Terror (1963)

58. The Sword And The Sorcerer (1982)

59. The Verdict (1982)

60. Nothing But Trouble (1991)

61. John Wick Chapter 4 (2023)

62. Maniac Cop (1988)

63. Maniac Cop 2 (1990)

64. The Thing From Another World (1951)

65. AntiChrist (2009)

66. Dungeons And Dragons Honor Among Thieves (2023)

67. Revenge Of The Ninja (1983)

68. The Raven (1963)

69. Lost Highway (1997)

70. The Devil's Rain (1975)

71. Critters (1986)

72. Jackie Brown (1997)

73. The Night Of The Werewolf (1981)

74. The Bridge On The River Kwai (1957)

75. The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023)

76. Cocaine Bear (2023)

77. After Hours (1985)

78. Batman Forever (1995)

79. The Big Lebowski (1998)

80. Things (1989)

81. Onibaba (1964)

82. Commando (1985)

83. Jacob's Ladder (1990)

84. Saint Maud (2019)

85. Fright Night (1985)

86. Fright Night Part 2 (1988)

87. Joe Versus The Volcano (1990)

88. Kingsman: The Secret Service (2014)

89. The Hobbit (1977)

90. The Lair Of The White Worm (1988)

91. Tango And Cash (1989)

92. Desperado (1995)

93. Puss And Boots: The Last Wish (2022)

94. The People Under The Stairs (1991)

95. Tales From The Crypt: Demon Knight (1995)

96. Robin Redbreast (1970)

97. The Missouri Breaks (1976)

98. Pumpkinhead (1988)

99. God Told Me To (1976)

100. The Cabinet Of Dr. Caligari (1920)

101. The Hateful Eight (2015)

102. Nowhere (1997)

103. Tommy (1975)

104. Last Shift (2014)

105. Multiple Maniacs (1970)

106. Bronson (2008)

107. Child Of God (2013)

108. Subspecies (1991)

109. Batman: Mask Of The Phantasm (1993)

110. The Hound Of The Baskervilles (1959)

111. Blood Simple (1984)

112. Bloodstone: Subspecies 2 (1993)

113. Beneath The Planet of the Apes (1970)

114. The Fly 2 (1989)

115. Berberian Sound Studio (2012)

116. Antiviral (2012)

117. Evil Dead Rise (2023)

118. Sundown: The Vampire In Retreat (1989)

119. Terrifier 2 (2022)

120. Shivers (1975)

121. The McPherson Tape (1989)

122. Moonage Daydream (2022)

123. The Saddest Music In The World (2003)

124. Masters Of Horror: Cigarette Burns (2005)

125. Lurking Fear (1994)

126. The Passion Of The Christ (2004)

127. Rambo: Last Blood (2019)

128. Fantastic Planet (1973)

129. Old Henry (2021)

130. Halloween Ends (2022)

131. The Shakiest Gun In The West (1968)

132. M3GAN (2022)

133. Smile (2022)

134. DUNE (2021)

135. High Noon (1952)

136. Hot Fuzz (2007)

137. Infinity Pool (2023)

138. Tales From The Gimli Hospital (1988)

139. Bullit (1968)

140. Jesus Shows You The Way To The Highway (2019)

141. Subspecies V: Blood Rise (2023)

142. Dario Argento's Dracula (2012)

143. Barbie (2023)

144. The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934)

145. The Dead Zone (1983)

146. The Neon Demon (2016)

147. Krull (1983)

148. Stephen King's Graveyard Shift (1990)

149. Elliot (2017)

150. Dogville (2002)

151. Eastern Promises (2007)

152. Sorcerer (1977)

153. Dagon (2001)

154. Zatoichi (1989)

155. Equinox (1970)

156. Clash Of The Titans (1981)

157. Calvaire/The Ordeal (2004)

158. Waxwork 2: Lost In Time (1992)

159. Matinee (1993)

160. Blood For Dracula (1974)

161. Murder By Decree (1979)

162. Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)

163. A Night To Remember (1958)

164. The Night Stalker (1972)

165. The Night Strangler (1973)

166. Don't Torture A Duckling (1972)

167. Fargo (1996)

168. Bloodsport (1988)

169. Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves (1991)

170. The Terminator (1984)

171. 4D Man (1959)

172. Magic (1978)

173. Trilogy Of Terror (1975)

174. Paprika (2006)

175. The Changeling (1980)

176. The Devil's Chair (2007)

177. The Omega Man (1971)

178. A Nightmare On Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988)

179. The Time Machine (1960)

180. Three Thousand Years Of Longing (2022)

181. Red Riding: 1974 (2009)

182. Red Riding: 1980 (2009)

183. Red Riding: 1983 (2009)

184. The Devil's (1971)

185. Once Upon A Time In The West (1968)

186. Lonesome Dove (1989)

187. The Never Ending Story (1984)

188. The Seventh Curse (1986)

189. Dreamland (2019)

190. Money Plane (2020)

191. Dune (1984)

192. Halloween 2 (1981)

193. Fool's Paradise (2023)

194. The Straight Story (1999)

195. A Serious Man (2009)

196. A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)

197. Misery (1990)

198. Forbidden Planet (1956)

199. Time Bandits (1981)

200. Escape From New York (1981)

201. Escape From L.A. (1996)

202. HEAD (1968)

203. Leptirica (1973)

204. Indiana Jones And The Dial Of Destiny (2023)

205. The War Of The Worlds (1953)

206. Godzilla: Minus One (2023)

207. Horror Express (1972)

208. TÁR (2022)

209. Runaway (1984)

210. Shock Treatment (1981)

211. Apocalypse Now: Redux (1979)-(2001)

212. Barry Lyndon (1975)

[dccomicsnews]

DC announced today new details surrounding its young reader imprints—DC Zoom and DC Ink—and revealed first looks at titles scheduled for release in fall 2019, all of which are available for pre-order below.

The cornerstone of today’s span announcement are two new graphic novels from DC’s middle grade imprint—DC Zoom—that will debut in October 2019:

THE SECRET SPIRAL OF SWAMP KID by acclaimed writer and illustrator Kirk Scroggs tells a lighthearted coming-of-age tale about a half-human/half-plant boy named Russell Weinwright. The book is completely written and drawn in first-person journal entries and features a fun, innovative lined notebook-style format.

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DC SUPER HERO GIRLS: AT METROPOLIS HIGH marks the first DC Super Hero Girls (DCSHG) graphic novel by new series writer Amy Wolfram. Wolfram is joined by DCSHG veteran artist Yancey Labat for this original story set in the same universe as the new DC Super Hero Girlsanimated series created by Lauren Faust that will air Sundays at 4 p.m. ET/PT on Cartoon Network beginning March 17, 2019.

  THE SECRET SPIRAL OF SWAMP KID and DCSHG: AT METROPOLIS HIGH will be joined this fall by previously announced DC Zoom titles by Meg Cabot and Cara McGee, Shannon and Dean Hale with Victoria Ying, and Minh Lê and Andie Tong, among others. Books published under the DC Zoom banner target middle grade readers ages 8-12 and tell stories focused on friends, family and growing up.

DC has also confirmed on-sale dates and shared early looks at forthcoming titles from DC Ink—the publisher’s new young adult graphic novel line. DC Ink books feature thought-provoking stories for readers ages 13+ that focus on everyday aspirations, struggles and triumphs. The current DC Ink slate for fall 2019 includes HARLEY QUINN: BREAKING GLASS from Mariko Tamaki and Steve Pugh, and Marie Lu’s BATMAN: NIGHTWALKER prose novel adapted in graphic form by Stuart Moore with art by Chris Wildgoose.

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See below for complete creative teams and on-sale dates for all DC Zoom and DC Ink titles debuting in 2019 and January 2020. All 2019 titles are available to preorder now.

DC Zoom (ages 8-12):

SUPER SONS: THE POLARSHIELD PROJECT (April 2, 2019)—written by Ridley Pearson and illustrated by Ile Gonzalez

DC SUPER HERO GIRLS: SPACED OUT (June 4, 2019)—written by Shea Fontana and illustrated by Agnes Garbowska

DEAR JUSTICE LEAGUE (August 6, 2019)—written by Michael Northrop and illustrated by Gustavo Duarte

SUPERMAN OF SMALLVILLE (September 3, 2019)—written by Art Baltazar and Franco and Illustrated by Art Baltazar

THE SECRET SPIRAL OF SWAMP KID (October 1, 2019)—written and illustrated by Kirk Scroggs

DC SUPER HERO GIRLS: AT METROPOLIS HIGH (October 15, 2019)—written by Amy Wolfram and illustrated by Yancey Labat

BLACK CANARY: IGNITE (November 5, 2019)—written by Meg Cabot and illustrated by Cara McGee

SUPER SONS: THE FOXGLOVE MISSION (November 5, 2019)—written by Ridley Pearson and illustrated by Ile Gonzalez

DIANA, PRINCESS OF THE AMAZONS (January 7, 2020)—written by Shannon and Dean Hale and illustrated by Victoria Ying

GREEN LANTERN: LEGACY (January 21, 2020)—written by Minh Lê and illustrated by Andie Tong

  DC Ink (ages 13+):

MERA: TIDEBREAKER (April 2, 2019)—written by Danielle Paige and illustrated by Stephen Byrne

UNDER THE MOON: A CATWOMAN TALE (May 7, 2019)—written by Lauren Myracle and illustrated by Isaac Goodhart

TEEN TITANS: RAVEN (July 2019)—written by Kami Garcia and illustrated by Gabriel Picolo

HARLEY QUINN: BREAKING GLASS (September 3, 2019)—written by Mariko Tamaki and illustrated by Steve Pugh

BATMAN: NIGHTWALKER (October 1, 2019)—adapted by Stuart Moore from Marie Lu’s prose novel for the DC Icon series and illustrated by Chris Wildgoose

  About DC Zoom:

DC Zoom is a new middle grade graphic novel line from DC. The line will introduce DC’s most iconic Super Heroes to a new generation of fans with stories told by some of the most successful authors from the middle grade publishing space. DC Zoom titles will be standalone stories, not part of DC’s ongoing continuity, and completely accessible to new readers who have no previous knowledge of DC characters. The line will launch in April 2019 with the release of SUPER SONS: THE POLARSHIELD PROJECT by Ridley Pearson and Ile Gonzalez.

  About DC Ink

DC Ink is a new young adult graphic novel line from DC. The line will introduce DC’s most iconic Super Heroes to a new generation of fans with stories told by some of the most successful authors from the young adult publishing space. DC Ink titles will be standalone stories, not part of DC’s ongoing continuity, and completely accessible to new readers who have no previous knowledge of DC characters. The line will launch in April 2019 with the release of MERA: TIDEBREAKER by Danielle Paige and Stephen Byrne.

New Details Announced For DC Zoom & DC Ink Titles DC announced today new details surrounding its young reader imprints—DC Zoom and DC Ink—and revealed first looks at titles scheduled for release in fall 2019, all of which are available for pre-order below.

[hellyeahheroes]

THE SECRET SPIRAL OF SWAMP KID TP written by KIRK SCROGGS art and cover by KIRK SCROGGS Warning! Unless you have express permission from Russell Weinwright to access his notebook, do not read any further. Seriously, we mean it. Okay, if you are still with us, here is what we can share: Russell is a middle schooler; he excessively doodles; he has two best friends, Charlotte and Preston; he is not so great at sports; and he is pond scum. Nicknamed “Swamp Kid” by his classmates, Russell has algae for hair, a tree trunk for a right arm, and a carrot for a finger. Also, Russell’s favorite meal is sunlight. Also, a frog lives in his arm. In this notebook, Russell details in both hilarious text and color illustrations (complete with ketchup stains!) what it’s like to be different, to discover his true talents, to avoid the intense stare of Mr. Finneca (his suspicious science teacher who may also be a mad scientist), and to find humor in the everyday weird. This is THE SECRET SPIRAL OF SWAMP KID by writer and illustrator Kirk Scroggs, and you’ll never look at middle school the same way again. ON SALE 09.25.19 $9.99 US | 5.5” x 8” | 160 PAGES FC | ISBN: 978-1-4012-9068-9 This title will be squarebound, not spiral bound.

Aside from the fact this sounds fun as heck we know Swamp Thing will show up to mentor Russell and I’m curious how will this work out. 

- Admin

[kingsbridgelibraryteens]

Middle School Monday: The Secret Spiral of Swamp Kid by Kirk Scroggs

Russell wants to be a normal kid, and dreams of being a graphic novelist one day, but he is part human and part vegetation, so … that’s going to be a problem. This book is Russell’s secret spiral notebook, which he is using as a scientific journal. He documents details about himself, like that his toes are webbed and that he eats pizza as well as sunlight. He also documents his adventures as he and several of his classmates team up to investigate the swamp near their school. What they find there will lead to some astonishing revelations about an old science lab, as well as Russell’s secret origins.

Give this book to older kids and younger teens who enjoy graphic novels and funny superhero stories!

[catchmewiddershins]

What it’s like to be loved by them

Ah yes I am throwing out some scraps of content because I finally was able to free up some time to write! And then had no ideas! So we’re doing something cliché lol - Also I used a random character wheel to pick who to write for- (I CAN’T SPELL HINATA’S FIRST NAME IT ALL LOOKS WRONG)

Includes: Miya Osamu, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shoyou, Yaku Morisuke, Akaashi Keiji, Oikawa Tooru and Shouhei Fukunaga

Miya Osamu:

Osamu is silver-blue piano and soft chords, the sunlight that slips so softly through the slats on blinds that are slightly broken, the slightly sticky feeling of wet rice in your hands as it fits into the lines that weave across your palms. He is white, cotton blankets and fluffed pillows, cloudy lemonade and losing sight of your toes in a thick carpet. He’s the feeling of calloused fingers on yours, fluffy socks and the taste of warm soups in winter as it breathes its hot steam down your throat and heats your stomach. He is cold cheeks and noses, tea-stained pages and the golden scent of fresh bread that signifies the best feelings of life. Osamu is hand-knitted tea cosies and watercolour paintings blu-tacked to the wall, warm, buttered popcorn and the feeling of the highstreet at night. He is the lights that glimmer on the midnight motorway and moon when it's risen in a blue afternoon sky. Being loved by Osamu is to bob on the ocean, the sun at your back and baking your legs, with salt crusting your skin and the taste of the sea on your lips while his fingers lock with yours, the perfect puzzle pieces to finish you both as the crowing laughs of seagulls echo above you.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: 

Ushijima is solid wood and tall forests, the green sound of a breeze ruffling grass like a father’s hand on the head of his child. He is apples and ice cubes and soft, plaid blankets laid on the dirt. He is the sight of a small ladybird, crouched on the tip of a finger, wings spread to fly into the great expanse of sky that stretches before it. He is red sunrises and purple evenings, the hazy, grey brightness that slows the day, the syrupy sluggish afternoons of drizzled rain and icing on lemon cakes, eaten with hot tea in a library. He is muffled laughter in the corridors and coats and hands that swamp and cover and protect, and the feeling of always looking up, up, up. He is the dusty, old clock you found in the attic and the wooden slats of old houses, he is peeling plaster and new paint, and the squeak and shine of polished floors. He is secret passages through the walls and flights of stairs that extend to infinity, and the deep, throbbing, beetroot purple of the tightest hugs that root themselves down into your chest. Being loved by Ushijima is being loved by the bass line of life, it’s his hand on your head and the other hovering at your waist, slow dancing to songs that weren’t meant for such smooth delight, him spinning you out as the air sparkles and being close to the beat of his heart and mind as you glide and dip and swerve to the thrum of his voice.

Hinata Shoyou:

Hinata is the tightness in your thighs they day after exercise and the sweet tang of mangoes in summer. He's August days when the ground wavers and the grass becomes caramel. He is hot red bricks under bare feet and the dizzying height of the walls of your garden. He is water fights and sprinklers in the baking sun, the squinting eyes and glaring lights, the shortest shorts you own. He is the smokey scent of sausage that stings and waters your tongue, the barbequed weekends and idle chatter of friends and the chink of ice that melts too quickly in glasses of juice that have been kept in the fridge. He's the soft comfort of pyjamas and burning hot skin on a cold day, marshmallows and fire and smouldering logs. He is the dance of heated air and the warmth that fogs the bathroom mirror. He is sand in your toes at one moment and the top of a cliff the next. Being loved by Hinata is the kites that float over the hilltops and the whipped foam of waves and the splattered paint of blankets, the mismatch of deckchairs and parasols at the beach, a sandcastle and the flagpole on top, and the horizon that stretches so far into the distance.

Yaku Morisuke:

Yaku is beaming, sunshine laughter and the ruffled hair of little kids. He is the background chatter in a café and the music playing in your favourite shops, the rushing of places and people as you're dragged down the street on your way to somewhere special. He's the thud, thud, thud of sprinting down a massive hill as the air is ripped from your lungs and your joyful screams are lost to the spiraling sky. He's the blur of green and blue and the smell of grass as you roll half of the way. He is the juice of melting ice lollies and the teasing winks of wind chimes by the sea, he's the sticky residue of broken stems that leaves itself on your fingers after the construction of a daisy chain. He's the light of a phone screen in the dark and the print of an old book where the s and f look irritatingly similar. He is the warmth of your own bed and the scent of your own home, the feeling of old clothes and attachment. Being loved by Yaku is to call to the birds that circle overhead and to feed fresh strawberries to one another, to play fight with sticks and paint your legs with grass stains and to trundle home with the exhaustion that comes from euphoria, sharing a hand, high on life.

Akaashi Keiji:

Akaashi is a lake, clear as glass and just as cold, although not the biting cold, but the cold that invites hot chocolate and a log fire. He is the lakes that teem with fish that nudge your numbing fingers and make you wonder at the world, he is the sunlight that glints off of slick rocks and your glimmering skin. He's the royal blue of day and the navy of night, the colour of the ocean, and of flowers, and of the quiet hum of a cello played delicately. He is the fingers of trees that reach to the sun, and the crunching silence of wet autumn leaves, the scent of old books and ink and the eternal echo of time in a museum. He is the sculpted face of statue and the warmth of a flushed face, the fragility of butterfly wings and flower petals and the strength of the trunk of an oak. He is hummingbirds and kingfishers and the simmering yellow of a springtime kiss. He is the sun at your neck and the shade of a tree above you, the splash of a diving duck and the tickle of grass on your bare feet. Being loved by Akaashi is staring up at him from where you sit, serene tranquility, the faint thrum of a river beneath you as your hand disturbs it, the creak of an aging wooden boat and the dappled sunlight that streams through the trees as he rows you to love.

Oikawa Tooru:

Oikawa is the tinkling of bells and the birdsong that flies in the early morning. He is the banded sunrise and all of its colours, the yellow songs on the radio that you sing along to, the orange-gold warmth of early evening, the pink of a blush on his cheeks, the purple light of the night that casts his face into shadow and the navy blue of his wallpaper. He is doodles on desks and using highlighter ink for nail varnish, he is cute stationery and over-curled handwriting and the giggles that come from sharing a secret. He is the creak of benches that have been sat on too many times and the blinding colours of tropical fish in an aquarium. He’s the blasting sound of loud radio, the rush of windows wide open at seventy miles an hour, the pressure against an arm thrown out of the window and the crescendo of voices singing at the top of their lungs until your voices crack and your throats are deserts. Being loved by Oikawa is whipped cream on your nose and joyful laughter, pancakes on the ceiling and sprinkles scattered over the floor, it’s playing children’s games while waiting for a cake to cook, and snuggling up with popcorn in a fairy-light bedecked fort, with foundations of cotton and walls of blankets as the white glare of television shines in your eyes.

Shouhei Fukunaga:

Fukunaga is uncontrollable giggling and whispered jokes, he is the fire-engine red of plastic buckets and spades, the sweetness of sugary treats and the fizz of sherbert on your tongue. He is brightly coloured doors and hanging baskets of flowers, the unevenness of cobbled streets and pastel houses. He’s the soft song of a springtime breeze when it brushes your cheek with a tender hand and blows your eyes open, dusting your face and head, the exhilarating rush of staring into the wind, the drop in your stomach as you lean backwards into its support. He is the chime of a shop door and the crinkle of packets that have been piled into your arms, the warmth of a kitchen and the taste of joy. He’s puns and playful nudges and blinding grins, crinkling eyes and soft cheeks stretched wide, he’s homemade food and the sparkling expression of the one who made it, he’s the warmth of a borrowed jumper, the mould of a side that you fit to so easily, the clicking of a keyboard when online games are played together. He is the snacks that have melted slightly in his bag, odd socks with garish patterns, googly eyes stuck all over his books, doodles in the margins and fluffy pencil toppers, dancing with no rhythm to old songs in the kitchen and letting yourselves go wild. Being loved by Fukunaga is to lie under the coffee table, your eyes falling into his as he stares you down, deft fingers nimbly shuffling cards, it’s to laugh in disbelief as he pulls your card from the deck, eyebrows wiggling their way off of his face, a playful beam poking through his lips, your legs are tangled together and one of your arms is going numb but it doesn’t matter, you are his and he is yours.

[army-of-mai-lovers]

Jet and Yue’s Deaths: Were They Necessary?

Two of the most common ideas I see for aus in this fandom are the Jet lives au, and the Yue lives au. I’ve written both of these myself, and I’ve seen many others write them. And while yes, fanfiction can be a great way to explore ideas that didn’t necessarily have to be explored in canon (I’m mad at bryke for a lot of things, but not including a Toph and Bumi I friendship is not one of them, even though I wrote a fic about it), it seems to me that people are mad that Yue and Jet are dead, to varying degrees. There’s a lot to talk about regarding their deaths from a sociopolitical perspective (the fact that two of the darker-skinned characters in the show are the ones that died, and all the light-skinned characters lived, is ah... an interesting choice), but I don’t want to look at it that way, at least for right now. I want to look at it as a writer, and discuss whether these deaths were a) necessary for the plot and themes of ATLA in any way whatsoever and b) whether it was necessary for them to unfold in the way that they did, or if they would have been more impactful had they occurred in a different way. 

(meta under the cut, this got really, really, really long)

Death in Children’s Media

When I first started thinking about this meta, I had this idea to compare Jet and Yue’s deaths to deaths in an animated children’s show that I found satisfying. And in theory, that was a great idea. Problem is: there aren’t very many permanent deaths in children’s animation, and the ones that do exist aren’t especially well-written. This may be an odd thing to say in what is ostensibly a piece of atla crit, but Yue’s death is probably the best written death in a piece of children’s animation that I can think of. That’s not a compliment. Rather, it’s a condemnation of the way other pieces of children’s animation featuring permanent character death have handled their storylines. 

I’ve talked about this before, but my favorite show growing up was Young Justice, and my favorite character on that show was far and away Mr. Wally West. So when he died at the end of season 2, it broke me emotionally. Shortly thereafter, Cartoon Network canceled the show, and I started getting on fan forums to mourn. Everybody on these fan forums was convinced that had Cartoon Network not canceled the show, Wally would have been brought back. And that is a narrative that I internalized for years. Eventually, the show was brought back via DC’s new streaming service, and I tuned in, waiting for Wally to also be brought back, only to discover that that wasn’t in the cards. Wally was dead. Permanently. 

So now that I know that, I can talk about why killing him off was fucking stupid. Wally’s death occurs at the end of season 2, after the main s2 conflict, the Reach, has been defeated, save for these pods that they set up all over the world to destroy Earth. Our heroes split up in teams of two to destroy the pods, and they destroy all of them, except for a secret one in Antartica. It can only be neutralized by speedsters, so Wally, Bart, and Barry team up to destroy it. It’s established in canon that Wally is slower than Bart and Barry, and it’s been played for laughs earlier in the season, but for reasons unexplained, the pod is better able to target Wally because he’s slower than Bart and Barry, and it kills him. After the emotional arc of the season has wrapped up, a literal main character dies. There’s some indication at the end of that season that his death is going to cause Artemis to spiral and become a villain, but when season 3 picks up, she’s doing the right thing, with seemingly no qualms about her position in life as a hero. In the comics, something like this happens to Wally, but then he goes into the Speed Force and becomes faster and stronger even than Barry, in which case, yes, this would have advanced the plot, but that’s probably not in the cards either. 

In summary, Wally’s death doesn’t work as a story beat, not because it made me mad, but because it doesn’t advance the plot, nor does it develop character. Only including things that advance plot or develop character is one of the golden rules of writing. Like most golden rules of writing, however, it’s not absolute. There is a lot of fun to be had in jokey little one off adventures (in atla, Sokka’s haiku competition) or in fun worldbuilding threads that add depth to your setting but don’t really come up (in atla, the existence of Whaletail Island, which is described in really juicy ways, even though the characters never go there.) But in general, when it comes to things like character death, events should happen to develop the plot or advance character. Avatar, for all of its flaws, is really well structured, and a lot of its story beats advance plot and develop character at the same time. However, the show also bears the burden of being a show directed at children, and thus needing to be appropriate for children. And as we know, Nickelodeon and bryke butted heads over this: the death scene that we see for Jet is a compromise, one that implicitly confirms his death without explicitly showing it. So bryke tasked themselves with creating a show about imperialism and war that would do those themes justice while also being appropriate for American children and palatable to their parents. 

The Themes of Avatar vs. Its Audience

So, Avatar is a show about a lone survivor of genocide stopping an imperialist patriarchal society from decimating the rest of the world. It’s also a show about found family and staying true to yourself and doing your best to improve the world. These don’t necessarily conflict with each other, and it is possible for children to understand and enjoy shows about complex themes. And in a lot of cases, bryke doesn’t hold back in showing what the costs of war against an imperialist nation are: losing loved ones, losing yourself, prison, etc. But when it comes to death, the show is incredibly hesitant. None of the main characters that we’ve spent a lot of time getting to know die (not even Iroh, even though he was old and it would have made sense and his VA died before the show was over--but that’s a topic for another day.) This makes sense. I can totally imagine a seven year-old watching Avatar as it was coming out and feeling really sad or scared if a major character died. I was six years older than that when Wally died, and it’s still sad and terrifying to me to this day. However, in a show about war, it would be unrealistic to have no one die. Bryke’s stated reason for killing off Jet is to show the costs of war. I’ve seen a lot of posts about Jet’s death that reiterate some version of this same point--that the great tragedy of his character is that he spent his life fighting the Fire Nation, only to die at the hands of his own country. Similarly, I’ve seen people argue in favor of Yue’s death by saying that it was a great tragedy, but it showed the sacrifices that must be made in a war effort. 

Yue

When we first meet Yue, she is a somewhat reserved, kind individual held back by the rigid social structures of the NWT*. She and Sokka have an immediate attraction to one another, but Yue reveals that she is engaged to Hahn. The Fire Nation invasion happens, Zhao kills Tui, and Yue gives up her life to save her people and the world, and to restore balance. Since we didn’t have a lot of time to get to know Yue, this is framed less as Yue’s sacrifice and more as Sokka’s loss. Sokka is the one who cares for Yue, Sokka is the only one of the gaang who really interacts a lot with Yue on screen, and Sokka is the one we’ve spent a whole season getting to know. While I wouldn’t go so far as to call Yue a prop character (i.e. a character who could be replaced by an object with little change to the narrative), she is certainly underdeveloped. She exists to be unambiguously likable and good, so we can root for her and Sokka, and feel Sokka’s pain when she dies. In my opinion, this is probably also why a lot of fic that features Yue depicts her as a Mary Sue--because as she is depicted in the show, she kind of is. We don’t get to see her hidden depths because she is written to die. 

In light of what we’ve established earlier in this meta, this makes sense. Killing off a fully-realized character whom the audience has really gotten to know and care about on their own terms, rather than through the eyes of another character, could be really sad and scary for the kids watching, but not killing anyone off would be an unrealistic depiction of war and imperialism. On the face of it, killing off an underdeveloped, unambiguously likable and good character, whom one of our MCs has a deep but short connection with, is the perfect compromise. 

But let’s go back to the golden rule for a second. Does Yue’s death a) advance the plot, and/or b) develop character? The answer to the first is yes: Yue’s death prompts Aang to use the Avatar State to fight off the Fire navy, which has implications for his ability to control the Avatar State that form one of the major arcs of book 2. The answer to the second? A little more ambiguous. You would think that Yue’s death would have some lasting impact on Sokka that is explored as part of his character arc in book 2, that he may be more afraid to trust, more scared of losing the people he loves, but outside of a few episodes (really, just one I can think of, “The Swamp”) it doesn’t seem to affect him that much. He even asks about Suki in a way that is clearly romantically motivated in “Avatar Day.” I don’t know about you, but if someone I loved sacrificed herself to become the moon, I don’t think I would be seeking out another romantic entanglement a few weeks after her death. Of course, everybody processes grief differently, and one could argue that Sokka has already lost important people in his life, and thus would be accustomed to moving on from that loss and not letting himself dwell on it. But to that, I’d say that moving on by throwing himself into protecting others has already shown itself to be an unhealthy coping mechanism. Remember, Sokka’s misogyny at the beginning of b1 is in part motivated by the fact that his mother died at the hands of the Fire Nation and his father left shortly thereafter to fight the Fire Nation, and he responds to those things by throwing himself into the role of being the “man” of the village and protecting the people he loves who are still with him. Like with Yue, he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on his mother’s death. This could have been the beginning of a really interesting b2 arc for Sokka, in which he throws himself into being the Avatar’s companion to get away from the grief of losing Yue, but this time, through the events of the show, he’s forced to acknowledge that this is an unhealthy coping mechanism. And maybe this is what bryke was going for with “The Swamp”, but this confines his whole process of grief to one episode, where it could have been a season-long arc that really emphasized the effect Yue’s had on his life. 

In the case of Yue, I do lean toward saying that her death was necessary for the story that they wanted to tell (although, I will never turn down a good old-fashioned Yue lives au that really gets into her dynamism as a character, those are awesome.) However, the way they wrote Sokka following Yue’s death reduced her significance. The fact that Yue seemed to have so little impact on Sokka is precisely what makes her death feel unnecessary, even if it isn’t. 

Jet

Okay. Here we go. 

If you know my blog, you know I love Jet. You know I love Jet lives aus. Perhaps you know that I’m in the process of writing a multichapter Jet fic in which he lives after Lake Laogai. So it’s reasonable to assume that, in a discussion of whether or not Jet’s death was necessary, I’m gonna be mega-biased. And yeah, that’s probably true. But up until recently, I wasn’t really all that mad about Jet dying, at least conceptually. As I said earlier, bryke says that in the case of Jet’s death, they wanted to kill a character off that people knew and would care about, so that they could further show the tragedies of war and imperialism. Okay. That is not, in and of itself, a bad idea. 

My issue lies with the execution of said idea. First of all, the framing of Jet’s original episode is so bad. Jet is part of a long line of cartoon villains who resist imperialism and other forms of oppression through violence and are punished for it. This is actually a really common sort of villain for atla/lok, as we see this play out again with Hama, Amon, and the Red Lotus. To paraphrase hbomberguy’s description of this type of villain, basically liberal white creators are saying, “yeah, oppression is bad, but have you tried writing to your Congressman about it?” With Jet, since we have so little information about the village he’s trying to flood, there are a number of different angles that would explain his actions and give them more nuance. My preferred hc is that the citizens of Gaipan are a mix of Earth civilians, Fire citizens, and FN soldiers, and that the Earth citizens refused to feed or house Jet and the other Freedom Fighters because they were orphans and, as we see in the Kyoshi Novels, Earth families stick to their own. Thus, when Jet decides to flood Gaipan, he’s focused on ridding the valley of Fire Nation, but he doesn’t really care about what happens to the Earth citizens of Gaipan because they actively wronged him when he was a kid. That’s just one interpretation, and there have been others: Gaipan was fully Fire Nation, Gaipan was both Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation but Jet decided that the benefits of flooding the valley and getting rid of the Fire Nation outweighed the costs of losing the EK families, etc, etc. There are ways to rewrite that scenario so that Jet is not framed as an unambiguously bloodthirsty monster. In the context of Jet’s death, this initial framing reduces the possible impact that his death could have. Where Yue was unambiguously good, Jet is at the very least morally gray when we see him again in the ferry. And where we are connected to Yue through Sokka, the gaang’s active hatred of Jet hinders our ability to connect with him. This isn’t impossible to overcome--the gaang hates Zuko, and yet to an extent the audience roots for him--but Jet’s lack of screentime and nuanced framing (both of which Zuko gets in all three seasons) makes overcoming his initially flawed framing really difficult. 

So how much can it really be said, that by the time we get to Jet’s death, he’s a character that we know and care about? So much about him is still unknown (what happened to the Freedom Fighters? what prompted Jet’s offscreen redemption? who knows, fam, who knows.) Moreover, most of what we see of him in Ba Sing Se is him actively opposing Zuko and Iroh. These are both characters that at the very least the show wants us to care about. At this point, we know almost everything there is to know about them, we’ve been following them and to an extent rooting for them for two seasons, and who have had nuanced and often sympathetic framing a number of times. So much of the argument I’ve seen regarding Jet centers around the fact that he was right to expose Zuko and Iroh as Firebenders, but the reason we have to have that argument in the first place is because it’s not framed in Jet’s favor. In terms of who the audience cares about more, who the audience has more of an emotional attachment towards, Zuko and Iroh win every time. Whether Jet’s actually in the right or not is irrelevant, because emotionally speaking, we’re primed to root for Zuko and Iroh. In terms of who the framing is biased towards, Jet may as well be Zhao. So when he’s taken by the Dai Li and brainwashed, the audience isn’t necessarily going to see this as a bad thing, because it means Zuko and Iroh are safe.

The only real bit of sympathetic framing Jet gets are those initial moments on the ferry, and the moments after he and the gaang meet again. So about five, ten minutes of the show, total. And then, he sacrifices himself for the gaang. And just like Yue, his death has little to no impact on the characters in the episodes following. Katara is shown crying for four frames immediately following his death, and they bring him up once in “The Southern Raiders” to call him a monster, and once in “The Ember Island Players”, a joke episode in which his death is a joke. 

So, let’s ask again. Does this a) advance the plot, and/or b) develop character? The answer to both is no. It shows that the Dai Li is super evil and cruel, which we already knew and which basically becomes irrelevant in book 3, and that is really the only plot-significant thing I can think of. As far as character, well, it could have been a really interesting moment in Katara’s development in forgiving someone who hurt her in the past, which could have foreshadowed her forgiving Zuko in b3, but considering she calls Jet a monster in TSR, that doesn’t track. There could have been something with Sokka realizing that his snap judgment of Jet in b1 was wrong, but considering that he brings up Jet to criticize Katara in TSR, that also does not track. And honestly, neither of these possible character arcs require Jet to die. What requires Jet to die is the ~themes~. 

Let’s look at this theme again, shall we? The cost of war. We already covered it with Yue, but it’s clearly something that bryke wants to return to and shed new light on. The obvious angle they’re going for is that sometimes, you don’t know who your real enemy is. Jet thought that his enemy was the Fire Nation, but in the end, he was taken down by his own countryman. Wow. So deep. Except, while it’s clear that Jet was always fighting against the Fire Nation, I never got the sense that Jet was fighting for the Earth Kingdom. After all, isn’t the whole bad thing about him in the beginning is that he wants to kill civilians, some of whom we assume to be Earth Kingdom? Why would it matter then that he got killed by an EK leader, when he didn’t seem to ever be too hot on those dudes? But okay, maybe the angle is not that he was killed by someone from the Earth Kingdom, but that he wasn’t killed by someone from the Fire Nation. Okay, but we’ve already seen him be diametrically opposed to the only living Air Nomad and people from the Water Tribes. Jet fighting with and losing to people who aren’t Fire Nation is not a new and exciting development for him. Jet has been enemies with non-FN characters for most of the show’s run at this point. There is no thematic level on which the execution of this holds any water. 

The reason I got to thinking about this, really analyzing what Jet’s death means (and doesn’t mean) for the show, was this conversation I was having with @the-hot-zone in discord dms. We were talking about book 2 and ways it could have been better, and Zone said that they thought that Jet would have been a stronger character to parallel with Zuko’s redemption than Iroh and that seeing more of the narrative from Jet’s perspective could have strengthened the show’s themes. And when it came to the question of Jet’s death, they said, “And if we are going with Jet dying, then I want it to hurt. I want it to hurt just as much as if a main character like Sokka had died. I want the viewer to see Jet's struggles, his triumphs, the facets of Jet that make him compelling and important to the show.” And all of that just hit me. Because we don’t get that, do we? Jet’s death barely leaves a mark. Jet himself barely leaves a mark. His death isn’t plot-significant, doesn’t inspire character growth in any of our MCs, and doesn’t even accomplish the thematic relevance that it claims to. So what was the point? 

Conclusion

Much as I dislike it, Yue’s death actually added something to atla. It could have added much, much more, in the hands of writers who gave more of a shit about their Brown female characters and were less intent on seeing them suffer and knocking them down a peg, but, in my opinion, it did work for what it was trying to do. Jet? Jet? Nah, fam. Jet never got the chance to really develop into a likable character because he was always put at odds with characters we already liked, and the framing skewed their way, not his. The dude never really had a chance.        

*multiple people have spoken about how the NWT as depicted in atla is not reminiscent of real life Inuit and Yupik people and culture. I am not the person to go into detail about this, but I encourage you to check out Native-run blogs for more info!

[heroicadventurists]

Vote for the next DC Comic series

Vote on DC Twitter

Round 1 voting: March 31 through April 7

Round 2 voting: April 8 through April 15

Round 3 voting: May 5 through May 13

Round 4 voting: May 20 through May 27

Bracket 1

Green Lanterns: Underworld On Fire

A deadly outfit of space outlaws are razing the intergalactic underworld sector by sector under the command of a disruptive new kingpin, in search of an ancient payday worth becoming the target of every power player in the galaxy—including Sinestro! Green Lanterns Kyle Rayner and Kilowog are put on the case, but will Kyle be able to do this one by the book when he finds out who’s behind it all?

Etta Candy: Holliday Hero, Inc.

On summer break from Holliday College, an accident grants Etta Candy her very own superpowers! Taking on the new superhero mantle of Candy Stripe, Etta joins forces with Wonder Woman, Amanda Waller, and her Beeta Lambda sorority sisters to create Holliday Hero Inc.—an all-girls agency sworn to protect and assist anyone in need. WOO WOO!

Bracket 2

The Brave and the Bug: Crisis on Infinite Ambush

Ambush Bug must team up with some of DC’s greatest heroes to survive an attack by revenge-seeking Ambush Bugs from across the MULTIVERSE who never got to exist thanks to AB’s refusal to be rebooted.

Zatanna and the King of Nightmares

Something is terribly wrong with Zatanna’s powers, but before she can heal herself, she is forced to confront her worst fears in a strange new spiritual realm ruled by the terrifying otherworldly foe known as the King of Nightmares.

Bracket 3

Lobo / Animal Man: Scorched Earth

Lobo. The name makes entire alien races collectively wet themselves with fear. The Main Man is proudly hyper-violent, arrogant, loud, stubborn, impatient, and ill-tempered. The best thing about him is that after he completes his contract, he leaves. Until now…

Son of the Creeper

An awkward teenager’s life is turned upside down when he inherits his dad’s chaotic powers. With his family in danger, Kieran Millar must save a father he doesn’t know from the monster he’s become.

Bracket 4

Justice League Queer

Eight young queer heroes investigate a series of monstrous manifestations around the world and discover that something much more terrifying is coming.

Robins

In the Blüdhaven apartment of Dick Grayson, a group of young people meets for coffee, doughnuts, and kvetching (between long, awkward silences.) The only thing they have in common? All were once Kid Wonders. Sidekicks to Batman. Robins.

Bracket 5

Paws Off the Justice League

When the Justice League disappears, Jimmy Olsen and the Super Pets must save the world from certain doom by posing as the missing League.

Jesse Quick: Control

When Jesse Quick uses her speed to access an alien artifact from a long-dead civilization, she finds herself imbued with the ability to harness and control the elements around her as her former super-speed is drained. But, when the power begins to corrupt Jesse, she must decide to give up these gifts or risk becoming, quite literally, her own worst enemy.

Bracket 6

Blue Beetle: Graduation Day

Trapped between heroics and his future, Jaime Reyes is directionless. When the Reach interrupt Jaime’s high school graduation, things only get worse. Starfire becomes a new mentor to Blue Beetle, but is it Jaime or the Scarab that’s really in the driver’s seat? And why hasn’t Jaime applied to any colleges?

Nightrunner: Love in Paris

All of Paris is obsessed with an intoxicating virtual songstress, whose holographic stage shows are lighting up the City of Love. But when the “vocaloid” ingenue’s fans start to disappear, Nightrunner must track down the infamous developer behind the eerily realistic celebrity AI.

Bracket 7

Swamp Thing: A House of Secrets

When love will not die, the dead must rise from the grave to kill it.

Louisiana, 1905: Caught in an eternal triangle of love and living death, the monstrous Alex Olsen; his widow, Linda; and his undead rival, Damian, vie for control of the cursed swamp where life, death, the past, and the future spiral into one never-ending nightmare.

Suicide Squad Seven

Harley Quinn leads a team of criminals—a millionaire adventurer, a stage magician, a sugar-obsessed serial killer, a delusional former superhero, a drunk assassin, a mute metahuman, and a child who becomes a monster—to stop the centuries-old Church of Blood from trying to destroy all of humankind.

Bracket 8

Asteria: The Last Amazon

An immortal Amazonian champion returns to Man’s World to discover her and the Amazons’ sacrifice now forgotten; a new breed of hero seeking power, glory, and dominance; and the secret family she left behind offering one last chance at redemption.

Superman & Lois: Ignition

Our solar system is a machine—and its purpose is to trap and kill Superman! The sun is darkening, Mars’s orbit is changing, and a mysterious citadel in Jupiter’s Great Red Eye has awoken; it is time for Kal-El to stand against the very end of his world. But he won’t be doing it alone: Lois Lane is suited up and blasting off to get the biggest story in human history…and to watch Clark’s back as he faces his greatest challenge yet. Facing ancient aliens and planet-sized machines, trickster asteroids, and the gigakrakens of Neptune, Superman and Lois will fight across all nine planets to prevent Earth’s dark destiny and save our future!

[blue-bird-kny]

Hiii~~ If its not much can I request Muichiro having a girlfriend that he didnt tell anyone about then Tanjiro sees them together? And Tanjiro was going to ask Muichiro about it first but he accidentally let it slip out while talking to Shinobu or any other pillar.

Hi thank you for requesting! Since the first piece I wrote for him, I’ve wanted to write a better one, sorry it took so long. Enjoy~Amanda

Warning: None

(1k+ words)

The day was perfect; the breeze was warm as it swirled above the open field, the plush grass was inviting and the sky was a wondrous blue filled with clouds. Together, hand in hand, you and Muichiro stood marveling at the scene from the middle of the field. It was “our” spot as you both called it.

It wasn’t some secret place you two miraculously came across, in fact, it was close enough to the demon slayer estate that anyone paying attention would notice you two lying there. But it was special because it was the place you and your boyfriend could just lay down, without the threat of demons, away from wandering eyes.

It wasn’t like you two were keeping this big secret, but it was never really announced that you and Muichiro began dating. You wanted to tell the other Hashira’s, they were your friends after all, but days slipped into months so quickly you’d forgotten. “Come on (y/n), lay down with me” Muichiro whined, his lips puffed together in a pout after you didn’t follow his lead toward the ground beneath you. You chuckled at his adorable face, this was a side of himself he usually reserved for just you. You placed your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat slightly accelerating as he wrapped a waiting arm around your form. Hours passed as the two of you enjoyed each other's presence, lost in your own little world. “That one sort of looks like a dragon from those storybooks kids read” you observed, you closed one eye as you drew an invisible image in the clouds. Yawning, Muichiro pointed to the sky “That one looks like Kyojuro-san with his bushy eyebrows”, he wiggled his pointer fingers to exaggerate the thickness of Kyojuro’s eyebrows. Laughter filled the air, your face buried into his side. He closed his eyes and held you tighter, he was glad that he could make you look so happy.

He groaned as the warmth of your body left his. “Come on babe! You know that if you miss another meeting, Shinobu-san will kill you, I barely saved you last time.” in the moment, you really thought she was going to kill him as she threatened his life; she is intimidating sometimes. Your words caused your sleepy boyfriend to cringe further, he’d do anything to miss that meeting with the other Hashira’s. Reluctantly, like sand bags were tied to his feet, he trudged his way to the estate, his hand laced in yours of course. When the time came that you two would have to part ways, he turned to face you. “You know we could just go back to our room, ignore the rest of the world” his words were convincing and if you didn’t know better, he could have convinced you, but you had to be firm.

“No Muichiro, it's your job” you placed your hands on his arms, slowly caressing the muscles you knew hid beneath his clothes. He sighed, “Fine, but you better be home by the time I’ve finished” his complaints caused you to giggle, he could be such a kid sometimes. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else” you fingers stilled holding onto his wrist, you didn’t really want him to go either but someone needed to be the voice of reason. He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love you” he muttered against the skin. Those three words have been exchanged before, but each time always felt like the first; he wasn’t such an open person, but when it came to you things changed. Hopeful eyes peered up into his soft blue ones, silently pleading. He bent down, his rough lips reaching your softer ones; your legs felt like jelly, his kisses were intoxicating. You mentally cursed out every demon in existence, if not for them he wouldn't have to leave you. Pulling away, your voice wavered as you spoke “They’re waiting”. You watched as he walked away, “We are so continuing that later” you thought before leaving yourself.

Unbeckonest to the couple, just around the corner was a mortified Tanjiro. He’d just been on his way to meet his friends for a mission when he found you and Muichiro sucking each other's face off. In the moment, he froze and couldn’t look away, although he knew he probably should have. Once he deemed it safe enough to emerge from the shadows, he continued to his destination, mind running a mile a minute. “Are they dating?” “Do the others know?” “Am I supposed to know?” his worried thoughts ran circle in his head, demanding answers. They’d have to wait though because the others were waiting, but once he was back he’d talk to the mist Hashira, a part of him felt like he had to.

Days passed before Tanjiro returned, however he didn’t get the chance to confront Muichiro because he and his team were directed straight to the Butterfly Estate, everyone had sustained injuries. He winced as Shinobu treated his wounds, listening half-heartedly as she explained what he could and couldn’t do for the next week or so. “Tanjiro-san whats on your mind? I can tell you aren’t listening to me” Shinobu could tell that something was eating away at him.

“Should I be honest and tell her? She’ll know if I’m lying though. Is it even my place?” his thoughts began to spiral. “Out with it Tanjiro-san” Shinobu’s piercing gaze almost tore the words from his throat. He spoke quickly, without much thought. “Did you know that Muichiro-san and (y/n)-san were together?”

“Well of course I did”

She lied. Shinobu was just as shocked as Tanjiro was, but she couldn’t let him know that. The poor boy would feel awful and as fun as it was to tease him, Shinobu had something much more entertaining calling her attention.

The early rays of the rising sun stretched across your sleeping face, their brightness causing you to stir. You moved to sit up when two strong arms tightened their grip on your waist. You turned to face the man you loved, the sun's rays illuminating the bright color of his blue ends, his face free of any strain; he looked so at peace you almost felt bad about having to wake him. Your fingers languidly traced the features of his sleeping face. “That tickles” his nose scrunched together as his pale turquoise eyes met your playful ones. “We have to get up at some point you know” you whispered sweetly, your hands slipping down to his bare chest. He mumbled an incoherent answer, bringing you closer to his body hoping that you’d cave; you wouldn’t.

“Nope not today, we both have a busy schedule” you pryd yourself away from his warmth as he groaned. You both dressed and ate a quick breakfast, “I’ll see you later” you kissed him goodbye as he hummed into your lips

Muichiro slowly walked into the Hashira meeting “I hope things are quick today” he silently hoped as he panned over the other Hashira’s all engaged in their own conversations, all except for one of course. “Muichiro-san! I’ve been waiting to talk to you. I have some questions I think only you could answer” Shinobu called walking towards the confused boy, “what does she want?”

The others in the room watched as Shinobu knowingly stared at Muichiro, her head tilted to the side as she asked knowingly “How long have you and (y/n)-san been dating?, she smiled as his eyes widened a fraction. The room stilled, everyone waiting for Muichiro’s answer. “Eight months” his voice was calm and patient, much to Shinobu’s disappointment.

Mitsuri spoke first, “You’ve been dating (y/n) for eight months and you didn’t tell us?!”her cheeks were dusted pink and her hands were clamped together tightly. “No, we kept forgetting” his response was simple. “How do you forget something like that?!” the entire room questioned.

It was rare you ever attended a Hashira meeting, but for reasons you didn’t understand Shinobu had invited you to discuss ‘important business’. “Hello!” you greeted excitedly, everyone turned towards your voice, their questioning stares making you feel uneasy. “You’re dating Muichiro?!” everyone's questions rang throughout the hall, jumbling together. You and Muichiro started toward each other, ignoring the others and meeting in a welcoming embrace. “So who told them?” you asked into his ear.

“Shinobu asked so I answered” It was simple really, but you wish you could have been there to see their faces. “(y/n) why didn’t you tell us? you know we’d be okay with it” Uzui’s powerful voice asked from his seat across the room. “It's like he said, we just forgot” you held tightly onto your boyfriend's hand an embarrassed smile prominent. Rengoku clamped his giant hands on both of your shoulders “Congratulations to the both of you! Although (y/n) must leave, the meeting is soon to begin!” his words were far from harsh and he was right, the meeting was starting soon. You caught Muichiro eyeing Rengoku’s hand that was placed on your shoulder, a scowl taking over his features. “Thank you Rengoku-san,” your smile matched his. “I’ll get going” you finished. Before turning towards the exit, you placed a quick kiss on Muichiro’s lips. You weren’t able to see his reaction as you turned and ran out, hand waving to those behind you “Bye!”

The others laughed as they watched the poor boy you’d left behind. Pink dusted the tips of his ears, eyes wide in surprise “Oh you’re so going to regret that later (y/n)”

While outside, you stopped in your tracks as something occurred to you, “Wait..Who told Shinobu?”

Main Masterlist

I’m Alive! Sorry I was gone for awhile, I was swamped with school work but I’m back! I hope you enjoyed it, thank you for reading and stay healthy~Amanda

PS- Thank you for 300 followers! I’m so grateful that this blog has come so far, please expect some great work! 

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, August 24, 2021

Portland protests see clashes between far-right, far-left groups (Reuters) Protests by rival far-right and left-wing groups in Portland descended into violence on Sunday, as the opposing sides engaged in clashes and at least one man was arrested for firing a gun at demonstrators. Nobody was hurt in an exchange of gunfire—and by Sunday evening there was no word on any injuries in numerous other skirmishes that saw opposing sides brawling, dousing each other in what appeared to be bear spray and breaking car windows of rivals. Police Chief Chuck Lovell said during a briefing on Friday that officers would not necessarily intervene to break up fights between the groups. But he added that “just because arrests are not made at the scene when tensions are high, does not mean that people won’t be charged with crimes.”

Henri hurls rain as system settles atop swamped Northeast (AP) The slow-rolling system named Henri is taking its time drenching the Northeast with rain, lingering early Monday atop a region made swampy by the storm’s relentless downpour. Henri, which made landfall as a tropical storm Sunday afternoon in Rhode Island, has moved northwest through Connecticut. It hurled rain westward far before its arrival, flooding areas as far southwest as New Jersey before pelting northeast Pennsylvania, even as it took on tropical depression status. Over 140,000 homes lost power, and deluges of rain closed bridges, swamped roads and left some people stranded in their vehicles.

Classes starting, but international students failing to get U.S. visas (Reuters) Kofi Owusu occasionally waits outside the U.S. embassy in Accra to ask fellow students what they have done to secure a timely visa appointment. Classes for his master’s program at Villanova University in Pennsylvania are scheduled to start Monday, but his in-person interview appointment for a first-time U.S. student visa is still nine months away. It’s the second time the political science student from Ghana won’t make it to the United States in time for school. Visa processing is delayed as U.S. embassies and consulates operate at reduced capacity around the world due to the COVID-19 pandemic, leaving some students abroad unable to make it for the start of the academic year. The wait and the hassle threaten both the country’s standing as a preferred choice for international students and their economic contribution of around $40 billion annually to many universities and local economies. New international student enrollment in the United States dropped 43% in fall 2020 from the year prior, months after COVID sent the world into lockdown. The number of new students who actually made it onto campus in person declined by 72%, according to an enrollment survey by the Institute of International Education (IIE).

FDA approves Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine (Bloomberg) The pioneering coronavirus vaccine made by pharmaceutical companies BioNTech and Pfizer was granted full approval by U.S. regulators. The government imprimatur is expected to trigger a flood of mandates by municipalities, agencies and private employers that had been waiting for the Food and Drug Administration sign-off. Following the announcement, the Pentagon said it would make vaccinations mandatory for military personnel worldwide and President Joe Biden called for mandates by companies.

Hospitals and Insurers Didn’t Want You to See Their Prices (NYT) This year, the federal government ordered hospitals to begin publishing a prized secret: a complete list of the prices they negotiate with private insurers. The insurers’ trade association had called the rule unconstitutional and said it would “undermine competitive negotiations.” Four hospital associations jointly sued the government to block it, and appealed when they lost. They lost again, and seven months later, many hospitals are simply ignoring the requirement and posting nothing. But data from the hospitals that have complied hints at why the powerful industries wanted this information to remain hidden. It shows hospitals are charging patients wildly different amounts for the same basic services: procedures as simple as an X-ray or a pregnancy test. And in many cases, insured patients are getting prices that are higher than they would if they pretended to have no coverage at all. This secrecy has allowed hospitals to tell patients that they are getting “steep” discounts, while still charging them many times what a public program like Medicare is willing to pay.

‘A Beautiful Feeling’: Refugee Women In Germany Learn The Joy Of Riding Bikes (NPR) Like most Americans, I learned to ride a bike as a kid. I still remember the glee after learning how to ride a bike on a subdivision road where I grew up in Florida. But girls around the world don’t always get to experience the joy of a first bike ride. In some countries, conservative societies frown upon women and girls who ride bikes—it’s not considered dignified or appropriate—and gives a girl too much independence. Joumana Seif, a Syrian lawyer and activist, recalls riding a bike as an 11-year-old in the capital city of Damascus. “For the people [watching on the street], and even for the children, it was shocking to them that I was riding a bike. They started to say, ‘Oh, shame on you, you are a girl riding a bike,’” Seif says. “It just wasn’t in our culture.” But it’s never too late to learn. In Germany, a nonprofit group called Bikeygees is teaching refugee women from countries such as Iran, Iraq and Syria how to ride. Since the group first started, it has taught 1,100 women how to ride a bike, says founder Annette Krüger. “It is possible to change the life of a woman in two hours. It is really magical,” says Krüger, an avid cyclist. “It’s a beautiful feeling when a person is riding a bike,” one refugee says with a broad grin.

Gunfire at Kabul airport kills 1 amid chaotic evacuations (AP/Foreign Policy) A firefight at one of the gates of Kabul’s international airport killed at least one Afghan soldier early Monday, German officials said, the latest chaos to engulf Western efforts to evacuate those fleeing the Taliban takeover of the country. The shooting at the airport came as the Taliban sent fighters north of the capital to eliminate pockets of armed resistance to their lightning takeover earlier this month. The Taliban said they retook three districts seized by opponents the day before and had surrounded Panjshir, the last province that remains out of their control. The tragic scenes around the airport have transfixed the world. Afghans poured onto the tarmac last week and some clung to a U.S. military transport plane as it took off, later plunging to their deaths. At least seven people died that day, in addition to the seven killed Sunday. Tens of thousands of people—Americans, other foreigners and Afghans who assisted in the war effort—are still waiting to join the airlift, which has been slowed by security issues and U.S. bureaucracy hurdles. Meanwhile, Afghanistan faces a quickly deepening economic crisis, with financial hardships increasingly affecting those in Kabul and other cities. Banks remain closed, food prices are rising, and the value of the local currency has plummeted. The suspension of commercial flights to Kabul’s international airport has in some ways exacerbated the crisis, halting the flow of some medical supplies and aid.

US special operations forces race to save former Afghan comrades in jeopardy (ABC News) Current and former U.S. military special operations and intelligence community operatives are using their own networks of contacts to get elite Afghan soldiers, intelligence assets and interpreters to safety as they’ve become increasingly disillusioned and fed up with the U.S. government-led evacuation effort in Kabul, ABC News has learned. One informal group, dubbed “Task Force Pineapple,” began as a frantic effort last weekend to get one former Afghan commando into Hamid Karzai International Airport as he was being hunted by Taliban who were texting him death threats. They knew he had worked with U.S. Special Forces and the elite SEAL Team Six for a dozen years, targeting Taliban leadership, and was therefore at high risk of reprisal. The former elite commando was finally pulled into the U.S. security perimeter at the airport, where he shouted the password “pineapple” to American troops at the checkpoint. Two days later, the group of his American friends and comrades also helped get his family inside the airport to join him. Other former members of the military and CIA have consolidated their own efforts with a separate group calling itself “Task Force Dunkirk,” a reference to the massive evacuation of British and other Allied forces from France in 1940 under threat of the Nazi juggernaut. Task Force Dunkirk and the groups it has banded together with have helped get at least 83 at-risk Afghans out of the country.

Lebanese hospitals at breaking point as everything runs out (AP) Drenched in sweat, doctors check patients lying on stretchers in the reception area of Lebanon’s largest public hospital. Air conditioners are turned off, except in operating rooms and storage units, to save on fuel. Medics scramble to find alternatives to saline solutions after the hospital ran out. The shortages are overwhelming, the medical staff exhausted. And with a new surge in coronavirus cases, Lebanon’s hospitals are at a breaking point. The country’s health sector is a casualty of the multiple crises that have plunged Lebanon into a downward spiral—a financial and economic meltdown, compounded by a complete failure of the government, runaway corruption and a pandemic that isn’t going away. The collapse is all the more dramatic since only a few years ago, Lebanon was a leader in medical care in the Arab world. The region’s rich and famous came to this small Mideast nation of 6 million for everything, from major hospital procedures to plastic surgeries.

China changes law to allow married couples to have three kids (NY Post) China will now allow married couples to legally have a third kid amid concerns that its shrinking number of working-age people will threaten the country’s future prosperity and global influence. China has tried for decades to control the population, beginning with a policy imposed in 1979 that strictly limited couples to one child. Couples who didn’t follow the rule faced fines or loss of jobs—and in some cases, mothers were forced to undergo abortions. A preference for sons also led parents to kill baby girls, causing a massive imbalance in the sex ratio. The number of working-age people, meanwhile, has fallen over the past decade and the population has barely grown, adding more strain to an aging society. With growing fears that the country would grow old before it became wealthy, the family planning rules were changed for the first time in 2015 to allow two children.

Cases up down under (CNN) Australia, like China, New Zealand, and some other countries, has attempted to completely eradicate Covid-19 inside its borders. The strategy had largely worked until recently; Australia has just 44,026 confirmed Covid-19 cases and 981 deaths. But several major cities, including Sydney, Melbourne, and the capital Canberra, are again under lockdown as authorities struggle to contain an outbreak of the Delta variant. On Saturday, thousands took to the streets of Melbourne and Sydney to protest the long lockdowns; hundreds were arrested, and at least seven police officers were injured during violent clashes. In an opinion piece published Sunday, Prime Minister Scott Morrison hinted at an end to the country’s zero Covid-19 infections strategy, but warned Australians to expect a rise in infections as restrictions relax.

[hysteriium]

The Irony of Fate [2]

Gif not mine! 

(A/N): Uhhh this gif kills me holy fuck LOOK AT HIM- UGH. OK, SORRY this took so long lmao, my writing has honestly been so slow lately. I’m trying to fix that but idk I guess it’s a work in process. ALSO!!!! I’m so GRATEFUL for y’all! You’ve all been so kind and supportive with the series, I honestly thought I was going to be swamped with hate! I’m really glad you’re all enjoying it, and love Arthur as much as I do. It’s really made me feel better about my shitty writing. So without further ado, I’ll let you read. Sorry for the monster essay! 

Summary: Arthur hated his life. That was no secret. He could pull out a list of the reasons why if someone had to ask. Perhaps he had pissed off fate really badly, a time he couldn’t seem to recall. Or perhaps, not that he believed in it, in a past life he had behaved so reprehensively that he was cursed for the entirety of his reincarnated existence. At this point, anything would make more sense than his continual bad luck - make more sense than his life. Was he doomed to be miserable for the rest of his time on earth? Or would the woman he spotted from his window instigate a rapid spiral of change?

Word Count: 3,400

Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Reader

Warnings: None! 

!! SPOILERS FOR ANYONE WHO HASN’T WATCHED THE MOVIE !! 

Anxiety coursed through (Y/n) like a turbulent storm, its rage coursing throughout her body, numbing her fingertips. Her mouth was abnormally dry and her attempts at swallowing - to try and lessen the prominence of the drought within, were all in vain. Counting down the seconds in her head silently, her jaw ticked. Large multicoloured drapes burned into her eyes, their bright colours harsh if looked at for too long. As she stood behind them, backstage, the familiar, upbeat music filled her ears, a tune she had known since teenagehood. In person, the arrangement of instruments beyond the curtains sounded different. It was raw. Loud. Unfiltered. The difference was something she found she prefered, it’s authenticity shining through. 

Despite the nostalgia, and the thrill of her dreams coming true, the song was hardly comforting, adding to the growing nausea in her stomach. Solidifying the presence of the knot within.  

The fact she was there was surreal. 

The crowd, in response to the anthem, went wild, clapping on cue, along with the song.

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen!” Murray shouted. His renowned dance moves, which had him swinging to the beat, were perfectly timed. 

Although (Y/n) was shrouded by the massive curtains in front of her, she could practically hear the smirk on his face. Sickly sweet and, dare she say, sickly fake. While she was eternally grateful to be where she was, the disingenuity unsettled her. It rubbed her the wrong way. 

Good ratings meant more money, and more money meant fewer problems. 

“Now, tonight, we’ve got an extra special guest,” he said.

(Y/n) swallowed.

She felt her fingers twitch in anticipation while the majority of the public oohed at Murray’s news.

“She’s a gorgeous woman…” a handful whistled, earning a soft chuckle from the host, “though I must say, she has an even lovelier voice.”

“It’s quite funny actually, I met her on the street the other day. I was blown away when I first heard her performing. And...I usually don’t do this, but I just had to have her on the show. You all know how much I love talent.” 

“However, there was just one thing that left me confused. I asked her, ‘why on the streets?’” Murray gave a quizzical look, “with such a gift, you’d expect her to be in the clubs!” 

“She shrugged her shoulders and told me, ‘you gotta start somewhere’.” 

“Now while I respect that, starting from humble beginnings and all, I told her, ‘honey with a face like that, you don’t gotta go around singing on the streets for money,’ if you know what I mean.” 

The spectators laughed, and (Y/n) rolled her eyes in response. Suddenly, she was glad she was hidden. She wouldn’t want her annoyed expression to give the wrong impression. She didn’t want to be labelled. The last thing she needed was to wake up and read some shitty news article painting her as a ‘diva’ and ‘ungrateful’. Gotham thrived on negativity, so once that was out there, she’d never recover from the defaming blow. Sexist jokes or not, fighting up against one of the most dominant television personalities in Gotham, as well as the media, was a deathwish careerwise. 

“Now that’s enough from me, you’re all probably sick of my face. Please welcome, (Y/n)!” 

Swiftly, the live band played their tunes, signalling her entrance. Murray directed attention to the infamous curtains, his arms stretching, his fingers wiggling towards the material. Screams of joy echoed off the studio walls.

At the sound, her hands raced to her form-fitting black dress, smoothing out the wrinkles before the curtain opened. When they did, they were slow. A cringe formed its way onto her face as the pully system squeaked along. As ready as she’ll ever be, she cemented a smile, hiding the wince, and walked through the drapes, deciding against waiting. 

Feeling a little dramatic, her form hunched over into a bow. A leg darted behind the other, with one hand in front, another resting against her back. Wolf whistles decorated the air at her arrival, though they were promptly replaced with roaring laughter as she made her way towards Murray and planted two firm kisses on both of his cheeks. Eventually, the clacking of her heels signified movement from the older man as she moved to occupy the yellow chair next to Murray’s desk.

Murray made a face after her display of affection, a look although (Y/n) couldn’t see, with his back towards her, she knew it transpired because of the public’s response. She could only imagine the face: one of shock and surprise, or perhaps confidence, as he winked towards them. Either way, both weren’t hard to envision, and the thought made short, distinct, puffs of air release from her nose in amusement.  

Shortly, he followed her lead and took a seat behind his table. 

“You’ve got some flare kid,” Murray chuckled, and (Y/n) could tell a genuine smile had replaced the false one. A twinge of pride wriggled in her chest at the realisation. 

“Are you nervous?” Murray asked suddenly, his eyes flying to the hands in her lap, fidgeting, “you seem nervous.” 

She shot the audience a look, her teeth clenched as her eyebrows flew up. 

“Yeah,” was all she said, her tone coming out high and unsure. 

Laughter. 

“You’re already doing great. This your first time on live television?”  

The reminder that this was live exacerbated her anxiety, her leg threatening to bounce. The pressure was on; if she screwed up, everyone would remember. 

“Pretty much,” a hint of fear wavered her voice, and the laugh that followed was shaky, “this is really surreal.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he flicked his wrist at her, “it’ll be second nature the way you’re headed.”

Her hands flew up to her cheeks, a tinge of pink coating the area while she tittered, “thank you, but I’m not so sure of that.”

“So humble!” 

Murray adjusted himself in his chair, his leg crossing over his other. He leaned forward towards the singer, form angled away from the onlookers. His concentration was solely on her.  

“So (Y/n), what have you got planned for us tonight?” 

A diffident expression crossed the woman’s features as she recalled her song.

“One of my favourites. Put On a Happy Face by Tony Bennett.” 

Murray nodded.

“Interesting choice. But, a classic.” 

His formerly interlocked hands were thrown into the air, giving a signal to the band. At this, (Y/n) stood up from her seat, and headed towards the already arranged set up towards the end of the stage. Once she arrived, she gripped the cylindrical microphone with both hands, its body supported by a stand. The object was cool against her heated fingertips.

The music started, the funk infectious and the woman’s hips began to sway.

---- 

Arthur barely held the gasp within him when he gazed upon (Y/n) ’s form, her flattering black dress a spectacle to behold. Her bow, cute and pure, converted the gasp he was restraining into a lovestruck sigh. 

He was sold, struck by the arrow of the little rascal Cupid himself. 

She looked just as good on TV.

He found it endearing how honest she was, admitting to her nerves. In his eyes, she was genuine, not like the scum that riddled Gotham’s streets; not like those who laughed at him; not like Randall. 

Similar to a child who was urgent to take in his favourite cartoon, he moved himself closer to the screen, a meter away at best, as he sat cross-legged. The tickling sensation of excitement shot throughout his slender body. 

As the music started playing, the overly happy tune seized him. When the camera panned on (Y/n) ’s walking form, he took in every little detail. The sigh she let out when she reached the microphone. The wobbling of her hands, which she tried to hide by clutching the device. The movement of her throat, suggesting a swallow. The jaw that clicked. 

Arthur saw it all.

Then, she started singing. 

Gray skies are gonna clear up

Put on a happy face

Brush off the clouds and cheer up

Put on a happy face

The spectators interjected, drowning out a portion of the lyrics as they released sounds of support. 

As Arthur leant into his tv screen, he was absolutely convinced nothing could deter his eyes, his hypnosis. Not even the whining of his mum, who had been entirely obstructed from viewing the screen.

He hadn’t even realised she was there, he’d forgotten all about her.  

Take off the gloomy mask of tragedy

It’s not your style

You’ll look so good that you’ll be glad

You decide to smile

Arthur wished he was there in the room with (Y/n). In the crowd. To see her pretty (e/c) eyes glance over him and shoot him a wink. Or perhaps a smile. Anything - like the acknowledgement she gave him days prior. Just something to know that he really existed. That he wasn’t riding through life like a doormat - invisible, stepped on, beaten up and chucked around. No one really noticed the object, nor cared to, as it dejectedly rested below the door. Day after day.

Pick out a pleasant outlook

Stick out that noble chin

Wipe off that “full of doubt” look

Slap on a happy grin

Arthur began to grin when she saw her nerves were starting to leave her. Oh, how badly he wanted to applaud her. Encourage her. 

And spread sunshine all over the place

And put on a happy face

One hand released the microphone, moving to her face as she traced the outline of her upturned lips, a short, accidental giggle slipping out. It made Arthur’s heart swell! 

The band complemented her style perfectly. Their contrasting deep voices were melodic as they harmonised with her humming. 

Gray skies are gonna clear up

Put on a happy face

Brush off the clouds and cheer up

Put on a happy face

Arthur found his form lightly swaying to the tune, his grin extending from ear to ear, impossibly deeper.  

She was really into it now, and he could tell she could feel the music rushing through her, now a conduit for the art. When he saw the confidence which had manifested, growing with each passing second, his mind swarmed with joy, his mind conjuring a bundle of soothing words he noiselessly projected through the cubic barrier before them - to her. 

And if you’re feeling cross and bickerish

Don’t sit and whine

Think of banana splits and licorice

And you’ll feel fine

She disconnected the microphone from the stand, bringing it under her chin. Quickly she departed from her spot with a small spin, strutting across the rest of the stage - something that got the fans rowdy; wooing. Her body swung to the beat, shoulders moving with her.

I knew a girl so gloomy

She’d never laugh or sing

She wouldn’t listen to me

Now she’s a mean old thing

Now incredibly expressive - antithetical from when she first began - she accompanied her singing by miming the lyrics. A fist rocked below her eyes imitating tears in a burlesque manner, and a fake frown contorted her features. Though, no matter how sad she pretended to be, Arthur knew just by the twinkle in her eyes that she was bursting with happiness.   

So spread sunshine all over the place

And put on a happy, happy face

Put on a happy, happy, happy face

During the final verse, she had moved closer to the camera, dragging out the closing note with a high. 

Oh, come on bubby, smile, it’s your birthday!

She made direct eye contact with the lens and winked. 

Arthur’s chest tightened at the action, and he couldn’t help but take it personally; as if the playful act was directly meant to be for him. Him and only him. 

Applause nearly deafened Arthur as it reverberated around the room, projecting shockingly loud for such a small device. Scrambling, his hands tried to lower the volume. Unfortunately, in his rush, his clumsy hands instead knocked up against another button, changing the channel entirely in the process. 

Regrettably for Arthur, the noise emitted only worsened. Although the tv was no longer on the Murray Franklin show, it was now on a channel playing an old war movie. Explosions and the earthshaking noises of artillery filled his crappy apartment, gunfire jolting his poor, unexpecting form. Letting out his shock with a shout, and a string of curses, his hands automatically moved to cover his ears - a reaction he midway stopped; gaining some control, he felt the device vibrate beneath his fingertips when they finally discovered the volume button. When he had readjusted the strength, he returned back to the station, free from the clamour, the show now on commercial break. 

He sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair. 

Why was he so fucking clumsy? 

Even the smallest things he couldn’t seem to get right. 

Gentle snoring shifted his awareness from his self-deprecating mental exchange, and when he looked over to the noise, he saw his mother asleep in her chair. Her head was tilted against her shoulder, her mouth open. It was a sight that made him laugh through his nose; something that managed to halt the negativity which began to swarm in his mind, like a vicious cloud of hornets. 

Arthur didn’t know how his mother could one minute be the lightest sleeper on earth, then the next, swing to the other extreme. It was a miracle she slept through his fuck up, but then again, if she were in a deep sleep, he was confident enough to bet she’d sleep through a natural disaster. 

It was honestly impressive.

Emitting a soft groan as his palms pushed himself up from his sitting position, he trailed from one end of his apartment to the other. He opened one of the squeaking cabinets near the bathroom, the small storage space containing miscellaneous items. Though, it mostly harboured their modest collection of towels and blankets. As his eyes skimmed the shelves, from top to bottom, they soon fell onto what he was searching for. On the very bottom, his hands gripped onto an old quilt. It was soft to touch, though when he moved to collect it, he felt small pricks against his flesh as his arms maneuvered to fit its length. 

Feathers. 

The floral pattern, which was a chaotic blend of reds, pinks, whites and cremes was gaudy and straining to look at. Arthur guessed it was a victorian design, and it was quite apparent that it was a style he wasn’t fond of. He didn’t think he ever understood the things his mother liked. It was definitely a selective taste.  

Shaking away his absentmindedness, and the staredown he was giving the blanket in his hand, he moved back to the living room, rounding behind his mother’s chair as he gently placed the cover against her. She was still snoring, some of them morphing into snorts. He honestly did try to contain his giggling, but most of it slipped out. To try and lessen the ache in her neck she was bound to wake up with tomorrow, he lastly righted her position. 

The upbeat music coming from the tv began again, letting Arthur know his favourite show had returned. Hurried, his lips pressed up against his sleeping mother’s forehead before returning back to his spot in front of the tube.  

“Welcome back, everyone! If you’re just tuning in, we have the lovely (Y/n) with us.”

For what was probably the 100th time, the crowd responded to Murray, who was sitting back at his desk, gaze set towards the camera. 

“And I’ve got good news for you, kid!”

(Y/n) looked up at the host from her chair, eyebrows furrowing. 

“What do you-” 

Murray interrupted. 

“I’ve set you up with a few clubs. We can’t let talent like yours go on without reward, it would be a disservice. On behalf of Gotham city, I think we can all agree we need some joy in these troubling times, and your presence just seems to radiate it.”

(Y/n) was evidently stunned. Suddenly, to her, some of his awful jokes had been worth it. 

“This isn’t a prank, right?” she turned to the audience, eyes expanded wholly making the audience explode into chuckles. Arthur found himself joining in. 

“I assure you lovely, we wouldn’t do that to ya.” 

“Your first gigs gonna be at Pogo’s comedy club. And yes, although it is a comedy club, they’ve made an exception. It’s best to start small and work your way up into the bigger names.”

Arthur’s chest constricted. 

He went there all the time! 

He could see her perform!

Talk to her! 

Finally have the chance to introduce himse-

“So what do you say, darling?” Murray piped up, his eyes giving her an encouraging glance.

Arthur leaned forward, nose about to touch the screen in anticipation.

Her hands found her cheeks as she tried to conceal the spreading heat. Even in darkness, she was convinced the crimson flush would be bright enough to light up the room. While Murray had said a few off comments here and there, things she didn’t agree with, he truly had been welcoming to her. She thought maybe, just maybe, she had been too harsh on him.   

“I-I don’t know what to say?!” 

Please say yes - please say yes - please say yes. 

“You could say, yes?” Murray shot her a playful look.  

The woman finally nodded, adrenaline and joy manipulating her quaking frame, “yes! Yes! Thank you so much!” 

Arthur’s fists shook in the air, a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding, released.

(Y/n) got up from her seat, shooting up like a rocket as she made her way behind Murray’s desk. He followed her actions and removed himself from his chair, and accepted the hug she pulled him into with a ‘whoa’.

“Well, there you have it, folks! Pogo’s, Friday night, at seven. Be there or be square!” 

With a little whisper to (Y/n), she was sent off, back to the area with the microphone. 

“Goodnight, tune in next time, and always remember-”

Instantly, the legendary keyboard tune started playing, and (Y/n) prepared herself to sing once more. 

“-that’s life!” Arthur mimicked.

For one final performance, the camera panned away from Murray, setting on (Y/n) as the credits rolled. Arthur relished in the sound, the lyrics hitting his very soul. 

That’s life (that’s life), that’s what people say

You’re riding high in April, shot down in May

But, I know I’m gonna change that tune

When I’m back on top, back on top in June

I said, that’s life, (that’s life), and as funny as it may seem

Some people get their kicks,

Stompin’ on a dream

But I don’t let it, let it get me down

Cause, this fine old world it keeps spinning around

He sunk into the numbing feeling of the lyrics, forcing himself to close his eyes. He didn’t even realise the song was nearing its end until she reached the final verse.  

My, My!

With the expression of dazed euphoria, Arthur opened his eyes, watching her part from the microphone, the credits now over. 

“Thank you,” was the only thing she said, her beaming expression the last thing Arthur saw. 

The show ended. 

Arthur, who was abandoned by the gentle, radiant hue of the cube before him, was consumed by the darkness. It dwelled within the room as the device had been switched off by his lingering hand. 

He didn’t know how long he sat in silence for. His mother had finally stopped snoring.

He didn’t want to watch television; didn’t feel like it. He wanted to soak in the episode he’d just witnessed - flick through the memorable moments for the rest of the night. 

He wanted to think about what he’d say to (Y/n) when he finally met her officially - he wanted it to be perfect. While the little wave she gave him days ago would have been such an insignificant action to most, it wasn’t to Arthur. It was real.

And the fact that he knew it was, reeled him in like an unsuspecting fish speeding to bait. 

Well and truly, Arthur was bewitched.

The sombre air surrounding him - a mood that always seemed to cling to him - and the dim blue hue which encompassed his apartment, strangely didn’t feel so bad for once. Hell, he didn’t feel so bad for once.

With the image of her smile repeating in his head, he didn’t feel so...

Alone. 

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 33)

Back Down To Earth

Arthur and reader return to camp after their wonderful night together, and quickly remember that the rest of their lives aren’t so peachy. Some tension and conflict in this one. Hope you enjoy!

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

Waking up without a tender ache in my hip was a very nice change, the soft bed giving me an appreciated restful night. Arthur was still sleeping when I opened my eyes to him; laying on his front, his head resting on his folded arms. I sat up and stretched, feeling oddly vulnerable in the light of day sat atop the bed completely nude. Of course, Arthur was just as naked as I was and I struggled to resist letting my eyes wander down his spine; all of those masculine ridges of muscle at his shoulders, the dips in his lower back above his backside, his backside, looking soft and round and cute. I very nearly pinched myself, wondering how on earth I'd been lucky enough to end up with such an attractive man.

I turned onto my side, tucked a piece of his caramel coloured hair behind his ear; it'd gotten real long, stopping just above his shoulders, parted at the side and swept over, looking like some sort of prince. Goodness he was handsome. How was he so handsome?

I retracted my hand and moved away from him, stopping myself from gushing over him any more. Poor man deserved his undisturbed sleep. I decided I'd get up and have myself a bath, it'd been so long since I'd had a hot bath and I stayed in there for as long as I could. Even so, Arthur was still sleeping when I got back to the room to collect my things before heading out, just like I said I would the previous evening. I left him to sleep, figuring he deserved a lie in, and left him a note to remind him where I'd gone off to.

So I took a short trip into Saint Denis. I was curious about how the place had changed and had planned on having a wander around before carrying out my main objective, but stepping outside and walking up two streets had been more than enough exploring for my evolved tastes. I remembered when I was a youngster, trips to the city were exciting to me; the busy, modern, fast-paced atmosphere was something I didn't experience in any other place. I grew up in the swamp, in a small house with no neighbours for a good twenty minute walk in all directions, it was always so quiet and uneventful and as a child, boring. 

Growing into adulthood and losing my family, spending time alone wandering from place to place and mostly avoiding civilisation for the sake of my hunting success, had certainly changed the way I viewed the city. Just that short time outdoors during the day, with so many people passing by, acknowledging me only to size me up… well, I felt incredibly anxious. 

So, I headed straight for the place I wanted to visit, pleased that it still existed, and made a purchase I had not made in years. 

Letting myself back into the hotel room was a pleasant relief. By the time I had done what I needed to do, Arthur had woken up and appeared to have taken a bath himself; he was sat on the bed with a towel wrapped around his waist, a second in his hands scrubbing at his hair. 

"Morning," I greeted him, watching as he pulled the towel free from his head to look at me, his hair was sticking up all over the place and I couldn't help but smile at the sight of it. 

"You're back," he seemed pleased, "done what you needed to do?"

"I have," I grinned at him, coming to sit next to him on the bed with a cardboard box on my lap. "I trust you slept well, you were out like a log when I left."

"I sure did. Haven't slept so well in years," he smiled, standing up to gather his clothes. He tossed them on the bed when he turned back to me, dropping the towel around his waist unceremoniously. 

I felt myself flush and averted my eyes only after getting a good – though accidental – look at his naked body. I heard Arthur chuckle. 

"Sorry, sweetheart, I thought you wouldn't mind," he said, his voice a little teasing. 

"I certainly don't mind," I said, feeling warmth bloom in my belly, "but warn a lady next time, won't you?"

"I surely will, never meant to catch you by surprise, ma'am," he said, picking up his union suit and stepping into it. 

I allowed myself to look at him, my eyes immediately going to what was between his legs purely by accident, or perhaps it was curiosity, or human nature… whatever it was, Arthur didn't miss it and when I met his eyes he appeared amused, though with a healthy splash of colour in his cheeks. 

"You're a fine man, Arthur Morgan. You can't go 'round flaunting it all so suddenly, you'll make my head spin," I giggled, watching as he buttoned up the suit and covered himself up.

Arthur didn't seem to know how to respond to that, looking surprised. 

"You don't realise just how fine you are, do you?" I queried, tilting my head at him. He breathed a bashful laugh and pulled on his jeans and his shirt, tucking it in and pulling his suspenders up over his shoulders. "You always laugh like that when I compliment you," I noted.

"Do I? I guess I just ain't used to hearing that sort of thing from a lady such as yourself," he murmured, coming to sit back down on the bed next to me. "I don't know where it comes from, truth be told."

"Comes from looking at you," I twisted and wrapped my arms around his neck, scooting closer. "I'm a lucky girl, getting to be this close to a man like you. I reckon my mama'd say I've done mighty well for myself."

"You think so?" He snorted, not seeming to believe me but putting his hands on my waist anyway. I brought one hand to cup his cheek, my thumb drawing down and across the bottom of his mouth, tracing under his lips. 

I leaned in and pecked his lips, they were so soft and plush under mine I could've done it again right away, but I held back. Instead I kissed his cheek, then his jaw, slowly, tenderly.

"It's no secret I always thought you were easy on the eyes," I whispered to him. 

"It's no secret I've always been confused about it," he said and the corner of his mouth lifted; I kissed it. "After all, look at you."

I pulled back minutely.

"You're an incredibly beautiful woman, I don't even have the words for it," he said to me, his voice all low and silky in my ears. I pulled back a little more to look into his eyes. 

"Goodness, Arthur," I breathed a quiet laugh, "you're making me blush."

"Was that too silly? Sometimes I worry things'll sound silly coming from me."

"No!" I grinned, kissing him again then pulling him in tight for a close hug. "God, last night was perfect. Everything is perfect with you. You make me a very happy girl."

"Well, if I can make you happy, that matters a whole lot to me."

I gave him a final quick peck on the lips, then pulled away and presented the cardboard box I had in my lap to him. 

"For you. Or, us," I shrugged.

Arthur looked down at the box with interest, it was a plain white thing, not very big, and when he lifted the lid, he chuckled. 

"A little treat. I went to the confectioner's. Pa used to take me and my brother there every time we visited the city and he'd treat us to a cake. We'd share one between the three of us, but I figured I'd buy us one each today, since I'm in such a good mood," I smirked at him. 

Inside the box there were a pair of individual little sponge cakes, layered with strawberry preserve and thick servings of cream, lots of powdered sugar and a pretty spiral of sliced strawberries on top. The things were a few inches tall, the cake to filling ratio being at least fifty-fifty. It was the same cake I had as a kid, and I remembered carving a small spot in heaven every time I sat down to eat my helping. I would close my eyes and take the tiniest of bites, making it last, savouring, licking my fingers and plucking the crumbs off my skirt to eat them as to not let a single piece go to waste. Though, I hadn't eaten anything like it in years. 

"This is… you know, about all I've eaten for as long as I can remember is meat and canned vegetables, and whatever Pearson puts in his stew. Sweet stuff like this just doesn't come my way. Angel, this is one hell of a treat," his smile was wide, and it was such a pure, untroubled smile that it touched my heart.

"Well then, eat up. Nothing like cake for breakfast, huh?" 

Arthur and I moved on the bed, scooting back and turning to sit facing each other, cross-legged, with the box between us. We each took a cake and wasted no time in tucking in, both of us letting out appreciative hums at the first bite. The cake was so fluffy and moist, sweet and decadent and every bit as delicious as I remembered from my childhood. Cream squeezed out and coated my tongue and Arthur caught some of his own in his palm before it dropped down the front of his shirt. They were messy to eat but I'd argue it only added to the experience. 

"Christ, that's good," Arthur groaned with his mouth full, then licked away the cream on his hand. I giggled, nodding in agreement.

The sound of chewing filled the space between us, along with the odd noise from the street outside; horses hoof beats, chatter, the bump of wagon wheels over cobblestones. Arthur and I were quiet, though. Nothing like tasty food to shut people up.

About half way through the cake I quickly began to wonder if it was such a good idea to eat a whole one to myself, it was becoming very sickly. That didn't mean I stopped eating, though, it was far too good and the treat was far too rare for me to want to let any of it go to waste. So I pushed through and stuffed my face, licking up the cream that had escaped onto my fingers and my lips. I had to admit to feeling a little sick after the whole thing, but it was worth it, I'd say. 

"What're we doing today, going back?" I asked and Arthur turned his nose up a little before composing himself. 

"Do you want to?"

"Do you?" I countered and Arthur let out a small sigh.

"No, I don't reckon I do," he said quietly. 

"Well, I'd be happy to stay away for as long as you want, but…" I began, looking down, "ain't you worried what folks will think if we stay away too long?"

"Not really, wouldn't be the first time I've spent a few days away from camp without announcing it to everyone."

"Yeah but, it ain't just you this time."

Arthur was quiet for a few moments. "You worried about what people'll think we're up to?"

"No, though I assume they'd think we're doing exactly what we did last night, whether it was the case or not. I'm more worried about Dutch thinking I'm–" I stopped, second guessing whether it was a good idea to speak my mind on the matter.

"Dutch? What you worrying about Dutch for?" He frowned lightly, concerned. I kept my eyes focused on an embroidered tulip on the bed sheet as I thought.

"Maybe it don't matter."

"No, it does. Has he said something to you?" His hand reached out to cup mine.

"Jus' something I overheard when you was with the O'Driscolls. I don't know what he meant, really," I shrugged. 

"Talk to me."

"Well, when they came back without you, and Micah said he didn't know where you were, I panicked. I was askin' Dutch what he was gonna do, and he weren't being all that helpful with his answers– he was pissed off, understandably so. I reckon he was worried about you, but he was talking about not doing what Colm expected–" I shook my head and stole a look up at Arthur, his eyes were dead set on me but unreadable. 

"Anyway, he wanted rid of me, and Hosea, bless him, took me away and calmed me down. But as I left, Micah told Dutch I had a crush on you," a small laugh escaped me at that, "and Dutch goes; that's all we need, or something like that. He didn't sound happy about it."

Arthur stayed quiet for a moment longer and I felt compelled to carry on.

"Then he kinda brushed me off when you got back, I don't reckon he knows about us. At least not the full extent. And I guess I've just been worried that he and some of the others might think I'm distracting you or taking you away from the gang," I admitted.

I met Arthur's eyes, both of us remaining quiet for a few seconds before Arthur seemed to snap out of a stupor and he cleared his throat.

"Well, you ain't distracting me, not from what needs doing. I've been doin' all I'm supposed to, so nobody can moan at me for that," he muttered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to piss you off," I began, sensing a tension in him that I didn't like.

"No, you haven't. You did the right thing, telling me what you're worried about. I assure you, though, you ain't taking me away from nothing. And if anyone gives you trouble, you let me know," he said, his voice deep and intense, sending goosebumps rising on my arms.

"I will," I nodded. 

"And I ain't going back now to keep them lot happy, they can live without me for one night and one day. We can have today and go back this evening, if you want."

"I'd like that," I smiled at him.

"The gang," he started, pressing his lips together in thought before continuing, "they're like my family. But lately, certain things have reminded me that while that may be true, they ain't all that matters."

"Yeah?"

"Listen, I can see Dutch has doubted you from day one. At first I could understand; you were new, everyone's cautious around the new person. But the thing is, you've been here long enough now, shown enough loyalty, done enough for us, for him to start treating you like one of us. God knows he was pattin' Micah on the head sooner than this," he spoke monotonously, a little harshly. He was definitely pissed off.

"I don't mind. Truth be told I don't care all that much for the man," I exhaled in a hollow laugh, unable to let go of his inaction when Arthur was in trouble, his reasons be damned.

"Yeah well, I care for you a whole lot," he said firmly, "and if Dutch, the man I'm supposed to blindly follow, makes you feel like you ain't on the same level as the rest of us, then I do mind."

I stared at him, eyes wide. Arthur cupped my cheek and pulled me in for a harsh, fiery kiss.

"I tell you one thing, I ain't keeping this a secret from nobody no more. You're important to me, and Dutch and everyone else is gonna know about it," he murmured against my mouth before kissing me again, barely giving me a moment to catch my breath, pushing me down onto the bed and blanketing my body with his. My head spun and I opened up for him, letting him smother me in his need and affection. 

We made love again, not emerging from our room until hours later, both of us finding it incredibly difficult to pull ourselves away from one another. I was completely, undeniably infatuated with him.

-

We rode back to camp after sundown, Sadie was on guard duty and she smirked at us when we arrived, though didn't say anything other than a polite greeting. We dismounted from Jet and I took the chance to give Rayna some love before Arthur and I walked into the main camp. It looked like people were finishing up with dinner as Susan was washing some dishes and everyone else was lazing about the place, the atmosphere felt flat in comparison to the previous night when everyone had been partying. It seemed the novelty of the house also wore off pretty quick considering most people were sitting outside.

Arthur and I helped ourselves to the last of Pearson's stew and took seats at the table. Susan had her eyes on us from the moment we arrived and it wasn't long before she said something. 

"You pair can wash your own dishes, considering you both got out of helping with the clean up," she said snarkily. 

"What clean up?" Arthur asked.

"From the party, of course," she chuckled. She didn't seem all that annoyed, thankfully. 

"Oh, well neither of us made the mess, in all fairness," Arthur said.

"Oh, so you snuck out last night, not this morning?"

I wasn't going to say anything, but Arthur did.

"Yeah," he said, "though I wouldn't call it sneaking out. Charles knew where we was going."

"And where was that?" Susan asked.

"Saint Denis," Dutch strolled over from his spot by the fire, eyes focused on Arthur, "don't worry, son, Charles told me where you were just as soon as I started worrying you'd wandered off with the O'Driscolls again."

"You were worried about that?" Arthur asked, voice rising in pitch. "Come on, Dutch, I leave camp all the time."

"Truth be told I don't know what riled me more, thinking you'd been taken by those bastards again, or knowing you'd waltzed right back into Saint Denis not ten minutes after being searched for by the law," Dutch's overly pleasant tone made me nauseous.

"John and I got away without being seen, they didn't know it was us. 'Sides, we went nowhere near that cemetery, didn't even stay on the streets long," Arthur muttered. I cocked a brow; cemetery?

"So where did you go, son?"

"Ain't that obvious?" Arthur said. I felt Dutch look at me, and kept on eating my stew to distract myself from my growing anxiety. "You're thinkin' it, don't make me say it."

Dutch hummed to himself, his eyes still on me. "Just, think with your brain, Arthur. We don't need any complications," he said, patting his shoulder once before sauntering off.

I met Arthur's eyes and his were apologetic. I didn't say anything for quite some time and after a stretch of silence, Arthur dropped his fork and stood up. 

"I'm gonna explain to him–" he began, but I grabbed his wrist. 

"Explain what?" I hissed. 

Arthur looked at me in surprise. "That it was my suggestion to go to Saint Denis and it ain't nobody's business if we were there or not, anyway."

"Oh, just leave it. He's dropped it, be thankful," I shrugged. 

"He's got no reason to be mad about it, if I wanna go to Saint Denis I'll go to Saint Denis," his voice raised, both in pitch and volume, the way it did when he was irritated, I was quickly understanding. "Never cared all that much before when I disappeared, so I understand."

Oh. 

I stared at him for a moment, thinking back to the O'Driscolls. I never stopped to think whether Arthur actually felt anything about the way Dutch handled that; I knew that it pissed me off to no end but Arthur had always been so understanding and accepting of these things when it came to Dutch. Though, I hadn't exactly helped the situation by relaying what had happened that night to him.

"Arthur, it might just be in our best interests to let it go," I said quietly, sensing stares from around the campfire. One glance there had me catching Charles' eyes. "Eat your dinner, you ain't had a proper meal today."

Arthur's eyes dropped to his food and after a moment, he slumped back down in his chair heavily. We finished our food in silence and when I went to gather our plates to wash them, Arthur got up and told me he was going to get an early night. It broke my heart, watching him walk away towards the house without me, left on such a sullen note. I had no idea where things had gone wrong, I wished that Dutch had left us alone, that Arthur hadn't taken what he'd said to heart. 

We'd had such a beautiful time together away from camp. Why did it have to come crashing down as soon as we returned? 

Charles silently sidled up to me when I was washing the dishes to help me dry them. He didn't say anything at first, but eventually, he spoke in a low, even tone that was difficult for even me to hear, let alone anyone else around us. 

"I can't help but feel responsible for that," he told me, "I'm sorry. I felt I had to tell Dutch when he started looking for Arthur this morning."

"God, Charles, no. Don't feel responsible, you ain't. Whole reason we told you was so people wouldn't get worried if they realised we were gone. It's okay," I reassured him, "if anything, I'm sorry. We put that on your shoulders. Of course, didn't really anticipate this turning into a drama."

"Me neither."

"Don't worry about it. I think I said something above my station today, soured Arthur's mood a bit."

"You two have an argument?"

"No, we didn't argue," far from it, I thought. "I don't think Dutch likes me very much."

"Why not?"

"Well, I'm stopping Arthur from being capable of using his brain, apparently," I snorted.

"Arthur isn't dumb."

"I know he ain't. Doesn't stop Dutch from treating him like he is, you saw what happened just then. Worst part is, I can't tell who Arthur's mad at; him or me," I turned to Charles, wiping my hands on my skirt and leaning my hip against the table.

"Only one way to find out," he shrugged, gesturing with his head towards the house. 

-

I entered Arthur's room, poking my head around the corner first to see if he was asleep. The lantern was still lit and he was sat up on his bed, writing in his journal. He looked at me and waved me in, and I crossed the room and sat down on a storage crate. 

"Sorry for leaving you like that," he spoke first, surprisingly, "needed to get my thoughts in order."

"That's alright," I nodded. Arthur sighed loudly and snapped his journal shut, putting it away in his satchel before looking at me head on. 

"I didn't mean what I said about Dutch not caring about me going missing. That was dumb of me, I know full well him coming after me would've been a bad idea. Heat of the moment, and all," he shrugged his shoulders. "I ain't more important than the rest of those folks out there."

"Well, if it's any consolation you only said how I've been feeling about it. Maybe I'm just selfish because of my feelings for you, but I weren't happy with Dutch over that," I admitted quietly, squeezing my hands together in my lap.

"Don't let it bother you, he did the right thing."

I shrugged, neither agreeing or disagreeing.

"He ain't been making all the right decisions lately, but that one needn't come into it. All that shit with the Braithwaites and the Grays, though…" he shook his head and laughed drily. "What a mess. None o' that felt right to me from the start."

"I know," I nodded.

"And now look at us, camping right outside of Saint Denis, closest we've ever been to civilisation. I don't know why we aren't heading west already, taking our chances getting by Blackwater, only so we can get back to more open lands, regain a little freedom. But what do I know? That's probably a bad idea, too."

"This life is relatively new to me, I've never had to run from the law. I couldn't tell you what that idea was, good nor bad. You having freedom, though, is all I want," I sighed, staring sadly at him. I hated seeing him this way; so sullen and conflicted.

"It seems like we're just getting involved with more and more bullshit. You know, Dutch wants us to go to a party at the mayor's house. We've moved up from working with sheriffs to schmoozing with high society, when we're wanted all over the damn place. It's like he's forgotten how to do subtlety," he narrowed his eyes, shaking his head incredulously. He was speaking very quietly, now.

My brows raised and I tried to imagine Arthur and Dutch rubbing shoulders with the likes of Saint Denis' mayor. "I see why that puzzles you," I laughed humorlessly. 

"I know that we need money. I know that we need to look for leads. I know that I should trust Dutch 'cause he knows what he's doing. But… I just don't like this shit. But I ain't got the ideas myself to counter with, so what's the point?" Arthur sighed heavily, gnawed on his lip for a moment and I waited for him to continue, it looked like there was more to come and I wanted him to get it off his chest.

"I've always just followed Dutch. Been with him since I was a boy, everything I know he's taught me. In a way he made things easy for me, I always knew what to do cause he always told me what to do, I never questioned it. But now I find myself questioning and I– what do I do?" He looked up at me, and my heart thudded at being put on the spot.

"You've never had to think for yourself before?" I wondered, hastily adding, "no offense."

"None taken. You hit the nail on the head," he shook his head.

"Well, what changed?"

"I don't know. Things feel different, with the gang I mean, we've gotten sloppy. Maybe Dutch is just feeling the heat, or maybe it's Micah; things were fine till he joined. I don't know. I just don't know. Running off to Saint Denis with you was the clearest my head has felt in weeks, I thought I was just permanently messed up by my run in with the O'Driscolls, but no. Turns out it's being here, I don't know what to think no more."

"You ain't upset with me, then?"

"You? Why would I be? All you've done lately is make me happy," he swung his legs off the edge of the bed and leaned towards me, taking my hand in both of his.

"I don't want to drive a wedge between you and Dutch."

"You ain't," he shook his head.

"I've never had much, but these last couple of months I've spent with you, they… it's like nothing I've ever known before. Happiness comes easy when I'm with you," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed by the words leaving my mouth, but wanting to be honest with him. "I just wish that things were simpler."

"Me too, princess. All I can hope for is one day being able to give you somethin' better than this. And maybe it's a little selfish too, Lord knows I'm happiest when I'm with you," he admitted, and it touched me.

"Don't you worry about Dutch. And don't feel responsible for the way he acts, things ain't been going too well for a while now. You know about Blackwater, Hosea; he tried to warn Dutch that it weren't a good idea to do that job, but he never listened. Listened to Micah instead," he grumbled out the last few words, "I guess I'm just in a weird place right now, I need– I don't know what I need."

"Arthur, you know I want to support you no matter what. I care about this gang, and I'll do all I can to help these folk and I'll always pull my weight. But my loyalty lies mostly with one person, and it ain't Dutch. Just know that," I gave him a direct look. Arthur nodded his head slowly.

"I guess I'll… let's see what this party is all about at the mayor's place, see what Dutch pulls outta his sleeve. I'll tell you one thing, though; I am not looking forward to it," he huffed, shaking his head then pulling his hands away to run them through his hair. "I won't lie, my stomach twists itself in knots just thinking about it."

"What if I asked Dutch if I could come, too?" I suggested on a whim, and Arthur looked up at me in surprise, "it's to look for leads, right? All those rich people there. Dutch knows acting is my forte, I could fit right in at a fancy soiree."

"You'd fit in a damn sight better than me," he laughed. 

"I'll ask. Worst he can say is no, but maybe he'll see it as me making myself useful and like me a little more," I smirked, "that's if me being there'd give you a little moral support, and you fellers don't plan on shooting the place up. 'Cause then, no promises I'll be any use at all."

"Somehow I don't think we have to worry about that," he smiled, then moved to lay back down on his bed, "but I reckon having you there might be nice."

"Yeah? Alright then," I rose to my feet.

"Get Hosea on your side, first. He's the voice of reason, when Dutch'll listen," he advised. 

"Will do. I'll leave you to get some sleep," I approached him and bent down to kiss him. Our lips lingered for a few moments, dancing together and leaving us breathless when we finally parted. "Goodnight," I whispered.

"Goodnight, my darlin'."

[dccomicsnews]

Trailer released for 'The Secret Spiral of Swamp Kid'

Trailer released for ‘The Secret Spiral of Swamp Kid’

WARNING! Unless Russell Weinwright (a.k.a. Swamp Kid) has given you permission to access his personal journal, do not read any further! This trailer is strictly off-limits!

Okay, if you’re still there, here’s what we can share. On October 1, DC’s newest middle grade graphic novel, THE SECRET SPIRAL OF SWAMP KID, will be available in comic shops and book stores nationwide. Today, DC is giving fans…

[hellyeahheroes]

Ladies and Gentlemen looks like DC is happy with their Ink and Zoom lines as the latter just added a brand new title to its roster - The Secret Spiral of Swamp Kid. Kirk Scroggs, of Snoop Troop, Tales of a Sixth-Grade Muppett and Willey and Grampa’s Creature Features fame, will give DC horror icon Swamp Thing a Diary of a Whimpy Kid-style tale. The book will be written in the format of a diary of Russel Weinwright, a middle-schooler with a connection to the Green. Scroggs has also teased that we will see Swamp Thing himself assume a mentor role to this young man.

THE SECRET SPIRAL OF SWAMP KID Written and illustrated by Kirk Scroggs Warning! Unless you have express permission from Russell Weinwright to access his notebook, do not read any further. Seriously, we mean it. Okay, if you are still with us, here is what we can share: Russell is a middle schooler; he excessively doodles; he has two best friends, Charlotte and Preston; he is not so great at sports; and he is pond scum. Nicknamed “Swamp Kid” by his classmates, Russell has algae for hair, a tree trunk for a right arm, and a parsnip for a thumb. Also, Russell's favorite meal is sunlight. Also, a frog lives in his arm. In this notebook, Russell details in both hilarious text and color illustrations (complete with ketchup stains!) what it’s like to be different, to discover his true talents, to avoid the intense stare of Mr. Finneca (his suspicious science teacher who may also be a mad scientist), and to find humor in the everyday weird. This is THE SECRET SPIRAL OF SWAMP KID by writer and illustrator Kirk Scroggs, and you’ll never look at middle school the same way again. On sale everywhere books are sold 10/1/2019 MSRP: $9.99

- Admin