#Single Review: Outta Sight

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: BluFlame Shares Swaggering "Outta Sight"

New Audio: BluFlame Shares Swaggering "Outta Sight" @Blu_No_E_Flame @heygroover @romainpalmieri @DorianPerron

BluFlame is an emerging emcee, who was born in Bartow, FL, a town located between Tampa and Orlando and just south of Lakeland. While the town is named after Francis S. Barrow, the first brigade commander of the Confederate Army to die in combat during the Civil War, it’s best known as the birthplace of Hall of Fame linebacker and two-time Super Bowl Champ, Ray Lewis. The Bartow-born emcee, grew…

[halfseoulco]

FACE — Jimin: A review

Published Friday, March 31st, 2023 — Following the news of the group’s break from making music together, the individual members of global sensation BTS have been showcasing their own unique colors with solo works that have been coming in a steady stream since June of last year—and this time, it’s Park Jimin’s turn to show the world what he’s capable of. 

Introduction

Jimin’s first solo album has been highly anticipated for quite some time, with heavy speculation as to what he would bring to the table. There were many guesses as to what kind of music he would make, knowing full well that this is the artist who brought us “Lie”, “Serendipity”, and “Filter”—which means that based on his artistic range, it could be anything.

“Set Me Free Pt.2″

Following the promotional schedule released by Big Hit Music, Jimin prefaced the album’s release with the pre-release single “Set Me Free Pt.2”, the title of which had many ARMYs guessing at a collaboration with fellow bandmate SUGA, who included “Interlude : Set me free” on his most recent solo mixtape, D-2, in May 2020. The music video for “Set Me Free Pt.2” was preceded by an official teaser and featured a simple yet powerfully dynamic setting motivated mostly by expert lighting and camerawork. While the song’s choreography—which is reminiscent of “ON” in some aspects—doesn’t involve as much intricacy on Jimin’s part as it does for the dancers themselves, he was able to weave himself in and out of the various formations seamlessly and execute the moves in time with the chorus. “Set Me Free Pt.2” can truly only be described as an anthem—punctuated by the bold brass lines and solid percussion throughout, while sometimes explicit, the lyrics paint a portrait of a Park Jimin who is committed to only showing his most authentic self, even if it’s a version of him that other people don’t like. The lyric “Going insane to stay sane”, also a nod to “ON”, is a written expression of the nature of Jimin’s desire: the freedom to be himself in such dramatic yet necessary ways so that he doesn’t lose sight of who he really is. At the end of the video, Jimin, having worn black through most of it, is revealed wearing white—a visual contrast to show the difference between his past self and his new, true self.

FACE and “Like Crazy”

The day FACE was released, the music video for the title track, “Like Crazy” also premiered. Shown in the official teaser as being completely different from “Set Me Free Pt.2”, “Like Crazy” features a dreamy soundscape intertwined with gentle strings and a sensual beat—and an almost tangible longing for the way things used to be. Jimin admitted during his appearance on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon that the album itself is meant to be a representation of his emotions throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. Known by ARMY as being both a social butterfly and a passionate artist with a deep love of performing, it is not missed by anyone that “Like Crazy” details the singer’s frustrations with being unable to connect with fans and perform for live audiences due to BTS’s canceled Map of the Soul world tour, which was supposed to take place in 2020. “I’d rather be lost in the lights, lost in the lights. I’m outta my mind,” Jimin croons while weaving through crowds of people under flashing lights—only to end up alone at the end of a hallway. The alternating between seeing Jimin having fun with his fellow partygoers and seeing him by himself illustrates the sudden juxtaposition in his realities during the pandemic, where he went from a series of shows during the BTS World Tour Love Yourself: Speak Yourself to a postponed-then-canceled tour that was meant to kick off the chapter that ARMY is currently witnessing. Now, making his debut as a solo artist, Jimin has been busy making the rounds, including a performance of the English version of “Like Crazy” on Jimmy Fallon’s show and an appearance on SUGA’s talk show, SUCHWITA.

Jimin’s solo debut has “Like Crazy” and “Set Me Free Pt.2” sandwiched between songs with distinctly different emotional tones, creating the sensation of a musical mood swing as it alternates between fire and melancholy. The EP begins with another spitfire track titled “Face-off”, which has definitely earned its E rating on Spotify. More than just its use of explicit language, the song acutely embodies the kind of anger that many people felt during the pandemic; and allows the space for empathy on a large scale. “Interlude : Dive” helps set the mood for “Like Crazy”, an instrumental soundtrack with audio sprinkled throughout, including a clip of loud cheers and Jimin telling an audience that he missed them so much. The interlude ends with the sound of a drink being poured and set down on a hard surface, smoothly transitioning into “Like Crazy”, which we’ve seen starts at the bar of a club. Following “Like Crazy” is “Alone”, a slower, softer track that describes the blending of days with nothing to tell them apart and a pain that comes from enduring loneliness and isolation without an end in sight.

If you listen to “Like Crazy (English Version)” on the physical CD, you’ll hear that there are almost three minutes of silence followed by the hidden track, “Letter”, which begins at the 06:13 mark and features background vocals by Jungkook. The song is, quite literally, a letter from Jimin to ARMY, revealing anxiety about being separated for too long and the fear of losing his fans’ love due to not being able to see each other. The soft acoustic track pleads for him and ARMY to stay together, conveying a deeply rooted sincerity that can be felt strongly in both the lyrics and the conviction in Jimin’s voice. The lyric “If we were together, even the desert could turn to a sea” calls back to another famous hidden track, “Sea”, which is only available on the physical version of BTS’s 2017 EP Love Yourself: Her 承. “Sea” itself carries deep significance to both BTS and ARMY, describing the relationship between the two and how the strength of that bond has allowed the group to carry on despite the hardships they faced. (This was also the message printed on the slogan for BTS’s Wings Tour Finale Concert in Seoul, which elicited emotional responses from the members.) By reiterating this message, Jimin is reminding ARMY of his commitment to them while also expressing his appreciation for the love and support he has received.

Conclusion

Production credits on FACE include Big Hit Music producers Pdogg and Ghstloop, while writing credits include most notably Jimin himself, RM, and Supreme Boi, among others. The amount of love and care that was put into this album is evident in its execution; and it is clear that everyone who was involved treated it with the utmost respect and attention that it deserves. Overall, FACE provides a raw and honest depiction of the range of Jimin’s emotions during a difficult time—and again, empathy plays a large role in the listening experience. The universality of his situation allows for a greater number of people to relate to the music’s messages, which is the wish Jimin expressed while discussing the album with Jimmy Fallon.

While I enjoy the emotional dichotomy of FACE and appreciate Jimin’s versatility, I favor the softer tracks a little more, with “Like Crazy” being my pick for favorite song off the EP.

Genius Lab USA Rating: Baby, come and follow me. There’s not a bad thing here tonight.

FACE Track List:

Face-off

Interlude : Dive

Like Crazy

Alone

Set Me Free Pt.2

Like Crazy (English Version)

편지 (Letter) (physical album exclusive)

[indiejones]

Indie Review - 'THE VACCINE WAR' (2023) ! ... (*4.9/5)

IndieReview:

'THE VACCINE WAR' (2023)!

Indies * - 4.9/5!

This is a movie, not just today's Bollywood, but Hollywood too will undeniably appreciate!

For a film of a quality, that the new legend block in Hollywood, comprising people like George Clooney, Matt Damon, Ben Affleck, & many others down the line in 21st c., of a more overtly cinematically cerebral-intellectual bent & grain, have made fashionable in modern cinema!

ONE OF THE ONLY INTELLECTUAL WAR MOVIES TO EMERGE OUTTA INDIA!

Yet a genre not knew to the director, who infact is among the only Indian practitioners of this otherwise 'cool' western genre, since it's inception, & to consistently masterful effect!

A RARE, TRULY REAL, & IMMERSIVE BIRD'S EYE ENCAPSULATION, OF THE TRIALS & TRIBULATIONS FACED, BY THE MOST UNKNOWN, SEEMINGLY ORDINARY, YET PROFOUNDLY BLESSED & EXTRAORDINARILY CAPABLE SET OF SUPERHEROES, IN ONE OF THE MOST THANKLESS PROFESSIONS IN THIS WORLD ECOSYSTEM, THAT INDIA WILL PERHAPS NEVER KNOW OF, OR BE ABLE TO THANK ENOUGH FOR IN UTILIZING THEIR LIFE-SAVING SERVICES IN!

The group of Indian female scientists, that came together to give India, in many expert estimations, the safest & most effective Covid vaccine in history! And at record pace & time!

A creditably detailed look, especially involving getting panacea for a plight, every single human on this planet endured with pun-intended bated breath, for nearly a year since getting locked on their own ever-crumbling & oh so withering planet, in utter hopelessness & despair!

A CREDITABLE GROSS ACCOUNT OF THE SCIENTIFIC SUPERHEROES THAT SAVED US ALL, FROM NEAR CERTAIN PLANETARY DISASTER!

Beginning with the entire journey of these set of virologists, from first day of patient infection or Patient Zero, to 3 yrs down the line, involving trips to Iran to test & rescue stranded Indians abroad, followed by the arduous task of isolating the virus & trying to find it's vaccine! Also involving entertaining trips to deep forests of Nagpur in search of the most peculiar & conducive group/species of guinea-monkeys anywhere in the world, for ideal testing & med development.

All marshalled into machine precision, by the ever-engrossing & most projectable Nana Patekar, in clearly the most life-like role of his Hindi (if not Marathi) career, bringing unseen character graph & wholesomeness to his otherwise superbly histrionics-driven massy Bollywood career! Followed by Pallavi Joshi in easily the greatest role & performance of her entire career, in strong contention for even the Best Actress Award @ Indies this year (infact spoiler alert, a certainty to win it this year, take it from me now itself!), for her brilliantly real portrayal of the 2nd person in charge of all proceedings in this invisible war. Other highly praiseworthy acts include Nivedita Bhattacharya & Girija Oak, as 3rd in-charge! As also a highly noticeable villainous turn by the ever-reliable & impactful Raima Sen!

A film that will make each Indian re-live it's own personal Holocaust, at hands of a outta control near-invisible microcosm/virus, a near-artificial intelligence hell-bent on wiping all humanity outta it's sight for good!

INDIA DID IT! … AND THEY DAMN WELL MADE A FANTASTIC AWARD-WORTHY FOR REAL FEATURE FILM ON IT TOO, TO BOOT!

Sufficiently accurate light is thrown on India's hesitancy in acquiring foreign vaccines (for reasons, as laid out in end, of unacceptable & near-slavish terms of agreement, but also including their own internal battles of efficacy & authenticity, as also unbecoming & not investigatively unfounded, allegations of deep malintent sown in their very systemic roots).

If to nitpick, one could say, that a few more scenes depicting the mass vaccine-production by Bharat Biotech, as well as, one or two more completing the whole process till first vial in existence, & the record vaccination drive (with novel digital use) been nicer! But 2.5 hrs of infotaining fun, was pretty awesome as it is, & sufficient in itself, nonetheless!

Congratulations on a wonderful fun documentation, of one of India's greatest most glorious & certainly youngest freshest chapters, in the longest journey of any earthling nation through humanity!

BHARAT MATA KI JAI! .. BHARAT KI VAIGYANIK MATAON KI JAI! 🙏

[kenjikutie]

Starlight [Dabi x Single Mom!Reader]

summary: when you and your children are saved by a man covered in burns, you offer to repaire his staples and clean him up, an offer that gets you much more than you’d bargained for word count: 2.6k warnings: a tiny bit of violence pairing: dabi x fem!reader

waking up at five am every morning to prepare yourself for the day certainly was not how you saw your life turning out four years ago. but, the moment where you opened the door to your twin son’s room washed away all over your regrets and filled the space with nothing but love. you thanked whatever was above you each day that they had ended up looking like you, rather than their father. you didn’t know what you would have done if you had to look at his face for the rest of your life

kindly stroking hibiki’s cheek, you watched as your son squirm awake, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. you smiled softly and whispered your morning greeting to him, watching as he beamed at the sight of his mother. hibiki kicked his small legs at you, a signal for your attention. with a huff, you lifted your son from his bed and sat him on your hip, slightly ticking his sides to see him giggle

when you felt a small tug on your pant-leg, you glanced downward to see hitomu giving you a pout, clearly jealous of the attention his brother was getting. you set your hand on his head, ruffling his soft y/h/c locks before setting down hibiki to present them their outfits for the day. the two had rambled on and on last night about how excited they were to attend their first day of preschool

though you would never tell them, you were just as happy to get a day to yourself while your sons were taken care of. you had so many errands to run, bills to pay and groceries to buy. living as a single mother in the city was tough, both financially and mentally, but it was worth it. you didn’t want to rely on the boy’s father for anything

while you were caught up in your thoughts, hitomu took your hand in his much smaller one, showing you a bright smile, though it was missing a few teeth. he proudly held up his all might lunchbox and you came to the realization he was trying to imitate his idol. hibiki took your other hand, beginning to mutter about how the three of you should get going before they miss breakfast

after locking up the apartment, you kept a steady grip on their hands, not wanting them to get lost in all the hustle and bustle of the city. the boys seemed to glare at everyone who past you, taking their roles as the ‘men of the house’ very seriously. you, on the other hand, were focused on reviewing the route to their preschool, praying that you didn’t get lost along the way

suddenly, you felt a sharp tug on your elbow, causing you to gasp, preparing to let out a scream before a rough hand clamped over your mouth. hitomi and hibiki gripped tightly to you, calling out to you as the three of you were dragged into a nearby alleyway. you were harshly thrown onto the concrete, wincing when you felt your knees scrape against it, surely drawing blood

hibiki clung to your left side, burying his face in your stomach with a sob, “mommy! are you h-hurt?”

you reached upward and set your hands on his cheeks, “hitomi, take your brother and get out of here right now! please!”

darting your eyes around, you caught sight of hitomi but your stomach dropped down to the pits of hell when you saw what he was doing. hitomi had his hands balled up into fists, holding his all might lunchbox in front of him

“l-leave my m-momma alone!”

“hibiki, stop!”, you screamed, terrified of what could happen next

the man laughed, a cruel, wicked sound, before snatching the prized possession out of your son’s hands and throwing it against the brick wall, smirking when he heard it split open. you pulled yourself off the ground, doing the best you could to ignore the throbbing pain in your skull. swiftly, you wrapped your arms around hitomi’s torso, pulling him behind you

with a tightening of your fist, you laid a punch on the attacker’s face, wanting to scream from how bad it hurt. he wiped the blood off of his nose and gripped you by the collar, slamming his forehead onto yours, causing your vision to become nearly entirely black. you could hear your sons crying but couldn’t speak a word

then, a bright flash of blue brought back your vision, feeling yourself slip from the man’s hold and back to the ground. you didn’t even look back at the attacker, despite his screams of pain and agony. hitomi and hibiki were holding one another, tears running down their horrified faces. quickly, you held the back of their heads and tucked their faces into your chest, hoping to hide whatever gruesome thing was happening behind you

when everything went quiet, you shyly lifted your head, flinching when bright blue eyes stared right back at you. the man in front of you was lanky and tall, scars littering his chest and face, along with staples holding his normal skin together. he looked like he was in so much pain and it made your heart ache

“you good?”, he asked, voice gruff and rougher than any sandpaper

“n-no, but,”, you looked up at him with wide eyes, “thank you. thank you so much.”

he didn’t move or acknowledge your thanks, only walked behind you to pick up the lunchbox that now had a huge crack in it, right over the face of your son’s hero. hitomi pulled away from you reluctantly when he felt a tap on his head. his eyes watered at the sight of his lunchbox but he took it back anyways, clutching it to himself

you slowly stood up, but even that was too much for your head. your knees buckled as soon as you were on your feet and you would have fallen back down again had it not been for the hand that steadied your lower back. everything was turning hazy again and you were sure you head a concussion. the last thing you saw was the concerned eyes of your sons and their mouths opening, surely calling out your name

---

you slowly fluttered your eyes open, feeling yourself relax into the softness of a familiar bed. then, you remembered the events before you fell asleep. lifting yourself forward suddenly, you felt the pain in your head come back but you pushed it away, determined to know how you got home and where your children were

the first place you checked was the living room, heart beating even faster when you didn’t see them, only the mess that had been left from their toy playing session the other day. where were your sons? how did you get home? and where-

a relieved sigh left your lips when you opened the door your sons’ room, only to see them snoring softly in their racecar beds. you had never been happier than that moment. when a cough came from the doorway, you jumped, holding out your hands in defense while the figure chuckled

“geez, chill out jumpy. it’s all good.”

the man from before stared at you with humor in his eyes. a part of you said to hit him until he left your home, to chase him out but, another part was begging you to make him stay. you just had to know who had saved you from something so terrible

taking one last look at your sleeping sons, you joined him in the hallway, keeping the door open out of paranoia. he kept his eyes on you, making you more nervous by the second

“um, thank you for back there. if you hadn’t come-”

“you already thanked me. hit your head that hard, jumpy?”, he teased and you felt your fists clench

“well, im sorry if im a bit uneasy after being attacked in an alleyway!”, you threw up your hands and stormed into your room, hearing him cackle behind you but follow you nonetheless

taking a seat on the edge of your bed, you felt tears begin to pool in your eyes. hurriedly wiping them away with your hand, you could feel the bed dip beside you, but neither of you said anything. you held your face in your hands, softly crying your heart out

dabi winced at the sound, the noise of a mother sobbing bringing back memories he would much rather have forgotten. when he had seen you and your kids get pulled into the alleyway, he had contemplated doing nothing to help, just continuing back to the bar. but, the face that had comforted him throughout the nightmare that was childhood would not leave his mind until he saved you

you peeked out from between your fingers to see a tissue being dangled in front of your face. eyes widening, you reached out to accept it, dabbing at your eyes with the soft tissue

“im a failure of a mother.”, you whispered and dabi quickly placed his hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him

“from what i saw, you punched the dude in the face and managed to protect your kids even after gettin’ the life headbutted outta ya. you’re not a bad mom.”

when he began to stand up, you latched onto the sleeve of his long jacket, head hanging down, “why are you doing this? i don’t even know you.”

and at that moment, all he saw was his mother

“you remind me of someone i know.”

raising your head, you tossed the tissue into your garbage can and looked up at him with a pout. he nearly laughed at how much you looked like a little kid but your splotchy eyes made his heartache

“let me repay you.”, dabi raised his eyebrows with a teasing smirk and you blushed, “not like that! i meant that i could fix your staples, they look like they hurt.”

after thinking for a minute, he nodded, “lead the way, jumpy.”

---

dabi was sat on the edge of your bathtub, watching your every move. when you bent down to take the supplies out of the cabinet, his eyes trailed a bit lower but he shook his head with a smirk. you would so not be into that, he thought

“it’s probably gonna hurt but don’t worry, i took a few nursing courses in college so i don’t think i’ll kill you.”, you joked and it made him feel a bit better that you had calmed down

“that’s good to know, jumpy.”

you stood up and set a hand on your hip, looking down at the man with a look typically reserved for your children, “would you stop calling me that?”

kneeling down in front of the tub, you began to wet a cotton ball with some peroxide while dabi shook his head, “no can do. i don’t know what your name is.”

“well, i don't know yours either.”

“and you’re not gonna- jesus!”, dabi jumped at the sudden sting on his cheek and you quickly apologized, rambling about how it was supposed to hurt less if it was a surprise

the two of you entered a comfortable silence, you gently removing and replacing his staples after disinfecting his raw skin. dabi began to look around your bedroom, at least what he could see from the doorway. no photos of anyone but your kids and someone he assumed was your mom. the right side of the bed looked like it hadn’t been used

“your husband probably won’t be happy to find me here, ya know?”, he was pressing slightly, watching to see any reaction you made but your face stayed neutral as you tossed another cotton ball into the trash

“i don’t have a husband, just me and my sons.”, your eyes held sadness, a different one from earlier, this one was dull and seemed very old

“oh. did he-”

“yes.”, your hold on his skin turned harsher and dabi caught your wrist, meeting your eyes before pushing your hand back

“sorry.”, you muttered, going back to your work while dabi watched you intently

the father of your kids must have been someone pretty stupid to leave the three of you. your sons seemed to love you a ton, considering how their walk home consisted of one of them glaring at him while holding your hand and the other quietly telling him where to go

he remembered looking down at your face while you slept in his arms. you were one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid his eyes on, so it was only natural to think you had someone waiting for you at home. but, the only boys who had your heart where the four-year-olds who wouldn’t leave your side until they fell asleep

he had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t even noticed you had finished up. you were right. dabi felt much better. he could finally move his arms and face without feeling like he was about to rip his skin off. maybe he would come back here again if it ever got too bad

“thanks, jumpy.”, dabi said, watching as you glanced down at the tile floor

“y/n. i’m y/n.”, he hadn’t expected you to tell him your name, figuring your paranoia would still have the better of you

dabi fixed his coat and let you walk him to the front door, taking a glance at you from the side. you were gorgeous but, there was nothing he could do about it. he was one of the most wanted villains in japan. it was a miracle you hadn’t noticed who he was yet

the two of you stood in the entryway, you avoiding his gaze and him refusing to look anywhere else. he would probably never see you again with how his life was going but there was a pull in him, a part of himself he had locked away a long time ago, that wanted him to stay here, to fall in love with you

you felt a rough hand place itself on your cheek and you gasped, locking eyes with the man who had saved your life. dabi leaned in and couldn’t help but notice that you did too, but, all you received was a peck on the forehead

“you don’t have to leave, you know?”, you said and he could see the worry in your eyes, but it wasn’t fear for yourself

“sorry beautiful, but i have some prior engagements to take care of. but, you ain’t gotta worry, nothing like that’s gonna happen to you again.”, furrowing your eyebrows as the man opened your door, you reached out to grab him, but he was faster than you

“see you tomorrow morning, y/n.”

the end.

[dndeed]

Crit Role Miniature Rollout: C2E113

With Andrew Harshman

An archive and review of the minis used on CR.

So many area spells! Thank goodness for spell templates. I commend the table to tracking all these different ongoing magical effects.

Say, if you’re in the market for a mat, make it a Mats by Mars mat, such as the one featured in this mighty waterbound battle! Use my code: DNDEED1220 for 10% off your entire MBM order.

Mighty Nein, it’s morphin’ time, but also, it’s time for Crit role Miniature Rollout Campaign 2 Episode 113!

The List

Mats by Mars: Dark Caribbean Tabletop Wargaming Play Mat

Chest and Trove 5E Condition Rings

Icons of the Realms: The Falling Star Sailing Ship

Steamforged Games Critical Role Miniatures

Hero Forge Jester Duplicate

Custom Lollipop Spiritual Weapon

D&D Spell Effects: Halaster’s Tumultuous Templates

Arcknight Spell Effects

Axe N Shield Single Flyer Risers - Clear Mithril

Maze of Death #029 Deep Lurker

War Drums #01 Arcane Ballista

Waterdeep Dragon Heist #011 Human Sun Soul Monk

Waterdeep Dungeon of the Mad Mage #013 Berserker

Waterdeep Dungeon of the Mad Mage #017 Berserker

Icewind Dale Rime of the Frostmaiden #038 Nass Lantomir

Steamforged Avantika

Monster Menagerie 3 #012 Tridrone/Kraken Priest

D&D Nolzur's Marvelous Unpainted Miniatures: W6 T-Rex

Craft Foam Ice

Custom Cloven Crystal Mini

The MacGuffin

Cloven Crystal Custom Cloven Crystal

A simple and elegant customized model. The base appears to be a Icons of the Realms flying base. I highly recommend using a miniature in encounters such as this. When possession of an item is being contested, it is so helpful to have a physical marker to track its location on the battlemat.

The Monsters

Toad Demon Monster Menagerie 3 #021a Gray Slaad Mini image sourced from minisgallery.com

Again with this teleporting toad tomfoolery. Wouldn’t teleporting be difficult and risky on a fast moving water vehicle? Would there not be major risk of miscalculating and ending up in the drink? Particularly dangerous for a cold blooded toad creature. I think it’s safe to say that this demonic Mr. Toad blink assassin is one hardcore operator. 

This mini is rather lackluster. A somewhat interesting and somewhat dynamic pose, but pretty flat in all other aspects. I’m rather critical about the current line of licensed D&D miniatures, mostly because the previous line was so excellent. This is an ideal opportunity for me to demonstration what I’m talking about by directly comparing a current and an old D&D prepainted figure.

Left: Icons of the Realms Monster Menagerie 3 #021a Gray Slaad manufactured by Wizkids released in 2018 Right: Dungeons and Dragons Miniatures Savage Encounters 18/40 Gray Slaad manufactured by Hasbro/Wizards of the Coast released in 2009

While there’s perhaps an argument to be made over which has the better art direction and creature design, I think it’s a fair to say that the 2009 Gray Slaad has far superior manufacturing quality. Furthermore, I would wager that if Matt had access to both models, he would have opted to use the Dungeons and Dragons Miniatures jazz hands Gray Slaad.

The Dinosaurs

Caleb Polymorph Trex Form D&D Nolzur's Marvelous Unpainted Miniatures: W6 T-Rex

There it is in all its glory. The Nolzur’s king of the dinosaurs I mentioned in post C2E108. I ask you, is there any sight more satisfying than that of a t-rex atop a grand galleon? Not ruddy likely. 

Closing Thoughts

I’m very pleased we got two episodes worth outta this map. Exciting stuff.

#criticalroleminiaturerollout

[my-miraculous-headcanons]

Marry That Girl

The way I want Adrien to develop a crush on Marinette in canon, or at least realise that he has a mega crush on Marinette, is for him to find out about the future she had planned for the two of them. 

Let’s say Marinette has a special sketchbook. This sketchbook is filled with drawings of their future house, of Adrien as an adult in multiple occupational settings, of Marinette and Adrien’s wedding, and most importantly, their future children. 

Let’s say Marinette had accidentally brought this sketchbook to school instead of her regular one. Let’s say she accidentally dropped this sketchbook while rushing out of school to help go meet Mme. Chamack to go babysit Manon. 

Let’s say Adrien was nearby and picked up the sketchbook.

He wasn’t able to call out to her before she ran off, so he kept it, deciding to give it back to her tomorrow. He gets into his car and is driven home.

Of course, though, he’s a cat, curious through and through. It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, right? Besides, Marinette’s such an excellent designer, maybe he could put in a good word to his father.

He didn’t expect to see the wedding dress on the first page, a self-portrait of her in an intricate bun and gorgeous white lace. It’s mesmerizing. It makes him excited, already imagining her at her wedding, her giddy smile as she stands before her future groom. 

He turns the page. His cheeks burn. 

The future groom is apparently him. 

There he is, in a sunny, shiny beige suit and a wide, toothy grin. His hair is messy and his tie’s a bit loose, and it surprises him how specific she was in those details. That she wasn’t expecting him to be perfect. That she didn’t want him to be perfect. 

His heart thuds loudly in his chest, and he turns the page. 

It’s him in a lab coat, standing beside some complex piece of machinery that Marinette had definitely searched references to. Beside him is the single word “Physicist.” 

He turns the page again.

It’s him in a simple suit, wearing a tacky tie, standing in front of a chalk board and talking to a group. Beside this drawing, the word “Professor” is written.

Once again, he turns the page.

It’s him in his fencing uniform, standing on top of a podium. In one hand, he is holding a shiny medal that’s wrapped against his neck, grinning right beside it. In the other hand, he holds his foil, his helmet tucked under his arm. "Fencer.” He didn’t need to read the word to guess that one.

He turns at least fifteen pages, each one of him in a different occupation, something related to one of his hobbies or likes, even things he’s only ever had a casual interest in. He nearly laughed at the sight of him as an ice dancer. He won’t lie, he did like ice skating, but really?

It’s the last one that leaves him in near tears. 

It’s him laying casually on a couch, two little boys tucked under each of his arms, and one little girl curled up against the center of his chest. All four of the people in the picture are fast asleep in front of a TV. “Stay-At-Home Dad” was written next to this drawing. 

He chokes down his sob. The driver looks at him through the review mirror in concern, and sees the wide smile across the boy’s face. Happy tears, then. 

The next page shows the three children together. He smiles wider at the sight of their last names. 

Hugo Dupain-Cheng-Agreste

Louis Dupain-Cheng-Agreste

His eyes land on the girl’s name, and his heart stops. 

Emilie “Emma” Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.

He stares, and stares, and stares. Then he closes the sketchbook, and brings it close to his chest, almost scared of the idea of letting it go. He looks out the window and sees the mansion. They’ve apparently been here for quite some time. 

He scurries to his room, locks the door, and doesn’t come out until he’s memorized every single page of the sketchbook. Damn the consequences.

He eats dinner that night in a trance. Gabriel even comes down to eat with him, informed by a worried Nathalie of his son’s strange behaviour. Adrien barely acknowledges his presence, too occupied with his thoughts, smiling as though he were floating peacefully on a cloud. Nothing anyone says gets through to him.

He imagines his life with Marinette. Her in a pretty, professional bun and shy, loving smiles, dressed up as she’s about to go to her office as a head designer. Him in casual, comfy clothing as he makes breakfast for their family of five, kissing the cheeks of his three children and the lips of his wife. He’d help the kids get dressed, brush their teeth, and take them to school. Take care of their hamster at home, because they most certainly will have a hamster, he guarantees it. He’ll bring a home cooked lunch directly to his wife’s work, and she’d drop everything to take a lunch break with him because that’s the kind of person she is— attentive... loving... 

Beautiful, his mind supplies. Her smile, her personality, her work. All of it absolutely gorgeous. He doesn’t even pretend to disagree. Marinette had planned this whole life around him. She knows what she wants. Her position as a fashion designer won’t change, nor will her future wedding dress. But she left his role in her life so open. Every option is catered around what he’d possibly want in the future. All the occupations he could choose from, their children’s names, where they’d live, who would take whose last name, etc, etc. 

He buries his face into his pillow and giddily kicks his feet, his thoughts once again remembering Emilie “Emma” Dupain-Cheng-Agreste. She wants to name their future daughter after his mom. 

He cries himself to sleep that night, but unlike every other time, it’s tears of happiness. 

He wakes up the next day with a single mission on his mind.

‘I’m going to marry the HELL outta that girl!’

[milkchu]

❝anyway the wind blows❞ eight.

Summary: (Y/N) Mercury’s journey of love, fame, and pain, alongside what would become one of the most legendary bands ever, Queen.

Pairing: Borhap!Queen x Reader, eventual Brian May x Reader

A/N: sorry for the late update! also, this chapter hurted™️. happy reading! 💓

Warnings: swearing, implied use of drugs, cheating and sex, angst

{previous chapter} {next chapter}

“In the studio today…singer (Y/N) Mercury!” Kenny spoke in the microphone, continuing, “So what have you got today for us?”

Right after you all had left and quit from Foster’s hold, All the boys, especially Brian was worried about what would be the outcome of the new album. You reassured him that you would take care of it, which is why you’re at the radio station right now, with your good friend, Kenny Everett.

“Have you got a little taste of the new record?” Kenny reached over to the record in your hand, with a smug smile on his face.

You played along, twirling it around your fingers, “I’m really not supposed to.”

“Oh, forbidden fruit? Don’t tempt me,” He said, before finally getting a hold of the record before reading the name written on it, “Oh, I’m in Love with My Car!”

You rolled your eyes, “Other side.”

“Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Behind the glass window separating the recording booth from the waiting area, Paul and Matthew sat on the couch, watching the two of you talking to each other.

“I didn’t know (Y/N) knew Kenny so well,” Matthew spoke up, looking at the pair with a blank stare.

Paul chuckled, “Nor did I.”

“The BBC won’t play it. In fact, no one will play it on the radio so EMI won’t release it,” You said, twirling the glass of champagne in your hand.

Matthew stood up from his seat, and walked closer to the window to get a better view. Though, he noticed something peculiar, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“What’s wrong with this song?” Kenny asked.

“Nothing’s wrong with it at all,” You leaned closer, speaking in a lower voice, “Except that it’s six minutes long.”

“Six minutes?”

“You’d have to be mad to play it,” You smirked.

Kenny squinted his eyes at you, “Oh, you’d have to be bonkers.”

“I positively forbid it.”

Matthew continued to watch by the window, you sending him some smiles here and there, and he would smile back, but he could sense something was wrong.

“Let’s hear it!” Kenny said, before clinking your glasses together, “Ladies and ladies, a Capital Radio exclusive for the first time ever…Bohemian Rhapsody!”

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

The song definitely received a lot of reviews, most of them negative, describing the song as meandering and meaningless, pompous and overlong, or calling your own band, a wannabe Led Zeppelin.

But, you know what?

Fuck the critics.

“So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?” You sang with all your heart, the Edinburgh crowd shouting along.

So you think you can love me and leave me to die?

Oh, baby

Can’t do this to me, baby

Just gotta get out

Just gotta get right outta here

You threw your microphone and leather jacket off, and sat down on the piano as the end of the song was approaching.

Matthew, Miami, and Paul were watching from above, Paul speaking to Matthew, “How much do they love her? Can’t get enough.”

Nothing really matters

Anyone can see

Nothing really matters

Nothing really matters to me

Miami mouthed along to the song, while Matthew just smiled softly at your playing figure, watching as you drowned yourself in the music, your fingers dancing along the keys.

As Brian’s guitar sounded through your ears, he looked over to you with a small smile, as the your cue was fast approaching.

Anyway the wind blows

When Roger signaled a new beginning for the band with just that simple sound of the echoing gong, you didn’t know what else was coming your way.

Liverpool. Tokyo. Detroit. Perth. Glasgow. New York. London. Boston. Santa Monica. Osaka. Chicago. Pittsburgh. Sydney. And then finally, Rio.

You felt like you couldn’t hear anything anymore as the crowds everywhere, you don’t even remember anymore, were deafening and wild, and you fucking loved it.

It was definitely a new beginning, you finally got a new hairstyle for heaven’s sake.

You stood by the phone booth just a robe, speaking into the phone, “Tom, Jerry, can you hear me?”

Matthew, on the other side of the call, rubbed his brow as he was tired from the long shifts and just wanted to see you, “(Y/N), when do I get to see you?”

“I’ll be home soon, darling,” You replied, “Will you put Romeo on the phone so I can tell him I miss him?”

As the said cat purred into Matthew’s touch, he asked softly, “Do you miss me?”

You paused. You never paused at anything.

“What a stupid question,” You chuckled, “Of course I do,” Matthew immediately noticing the change in tone in your voice.

Matthew felt a tug on his heart, his smile falling right away.

You looked over to your left, seeing as Paul was talking to a man you’ve never seen before, gesturing towards you. You also swore you saw the man reach into his pocket for a plastic bag and handed it over to Paul. You know what it is.

Matthew whispered into the phone, “I love you,” Just to make sure.

“Good night,” You hung up, before walking towards the pair. You never said it back.

When you woke up to the Rio sunlight blinding the whole room, Paul was sitting casually on the table, reading the daily news, while the man from last night laid down on the couch, in just a pair of boxers.

The room was a complete mess. Empty wine glasses filled the coffee table, along with the plastic bag from last night that was now empty, as the contents of it were smeared across the glass table.

Walking towards the window that looks out to the city, you felt an ache in your body. A familiar ache. The one that you always felt with Matthew.

Paul smirked at the sight of your slightly limping left leg, before turning back to the newspaper in his hands.

As you looked towards the beautiful view of Rio, completely contrasting what has happened in your own hotel room last night, you spoke up, “Clean this mess up and get rid of your friend.”

Paul snapped at the yawning man, “Get dressed,” Before the man immediately stood up and gathered all his clothes and left the hotel room, hopefully all the negative energy and thoughts leaving along with him.

Kneeling in front of the television to make sure the video was working, you looked over to your boyfriend, who was sitting on the couch, “According to Brian...it was the largest paying audience in history.”

Walking over beside Matthew, you sat down, Matthew adjusting his position to get a better look at the television, who currently had Brian on it, playing the guitar, who looked kind of tense, probably because it was such a large crowd.

“The whole night, I didn’t know if they understood a thing I was saying. And then…”

Love of my life, you’ve hurt me

Instead of hearing your own voice, you heard the large crowd of Rio singing the song.

You’ve broken my heart

And now you leave me

Love of my life, can’t you see?

Matthew smiled softly at the television as the lyrics filled his ears, while you just simply watched your boyfriend in admiration.

Bring it back, bring it back

Don’t take it away from me

Because you don’t know what it means to me

“They’re all singing,” You began, “Thousands of them. All singing to you.”

Matthew looked back towards you, before you continued, “Because it’s true.”

He noticed something wrong, as you weren’t looking at him when you said those things. You always looked at him. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

He adjusted his position to face you completely, a serious look on his face, “Something’s been wrong for a while now.”

You couldn’t look at him in the eye. He was right. “Say it,” He whispered.

Finally looking at him in the eyes, you couldn’t say anything before Matthew said it once more, in a louder tone, “Say it.”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” You gulped, before finally saying, “I think we’re drifting apart.”

Matthew sighed, before saying it, the real truth that hit you right in the chest, “(Y/N), you cheated on me.”

Not knowing what to say, you simply looked at Matthew with a seemingly blank stare, but you were undoubtedly hurting on the inside. He swiftly stood up and walked towards the window.

With his back turned towards you, you could only hear him sniffling with the sounds of the television contrasting it, “I’ve known for a while now. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

“It’s funny, really. This is what I always settle for,” Matthew began, breathing shakily.

“I love you, but…”

“I love you, Matthew, but I need space.”

“I love you, Matthew, but I’m busy.”

“And now, I love you, Matthew, but I’ve met someone else...”

Each statement that he mentioned was like a bullet that went for your heart, it hurt. It hurt because it was all true.

Matthew glanced over to the television, knowing who or what, you truly loved, instead of him.

You swiftly walked towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist, his hands immediately pushing you away before facing you completely, “What do you want from me?”

Tears filled your eyes, finally saying the truth, “Almost everything.”

“I want you in my life.”

Matthew’s eyes were bloodshot, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, he glanced at your hands, thumb moving against the small stone on the ring on your finger before whispering, “Why?”

“We believe in each other. And that’s everything. For us.” You both leaned in closer, his hand placing itself on your cheek, his thumb wiping away your single fallen tear.

“Your life is going to be very difficult.”

And with that, he was gone.

atwb taglist; @yoonlatte // @alexfayer // @everything-you-dont-wanna-be // @itsametaphorbriansblog // @marequeenii // @killer-queen-xo // @jedi-dreea // @achernarsaa // @nevaeh-potter15 // @banana-tree-freddiemercury // @rogertaylorssunglasses // @pyrotechnic789 // @mirkwoodshewolf // @stuff-exists // @toger-raylor // @langdonzvoid // @imamazzellhoe // @tbird20165 // @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen // @theswedishblonde // @oliviaharddyy // @sunflower-borhap-boys

other tags; @monochromedeacon // @b-hardys // @spideyyypeter // @hunterswearingplaid // @livingforrt // @bensrhapsody

please do send me a message if i missed you! 

*those who i’ve crossed out, i couldn’t find your user anymore.

[mintychocolatechip]

Chapter 1:Prologue https://mintychocolatechip.tumblr.com/post/185949372750/in-your-eyes-i-see-embers-re-post

Chapter 2

Whispering Connection

Please Leave comments/reviews :3

Dust settles as an old pick up truck skids to a stop in front of a worn trailer home. Out steps a 27 year old Ben Hanscom. The look of exhaustion on his face mirrored the way his body dragged as he made his way through the rusted door. Ben rubs the faded scar on his forehead in hopes of relieving the tension, and with a long sigh, plops down on the small sofa. Looking at his answering machine, Ben sees new messages from the factory he works at. Just the thought of that place made his head ache even more. Playing the first message, he soon heard his co workers voice on the other end.

*BEEP* " Hey Haystack it's Richie, just sayin thanks for covering my shift last week, I promise to pay ya back as soon as I can.*BEEP*

A faint smile made it's way onto Ben's face.

*BEEP* "Hey uh it's mike, where ya been, haven't seen ya 'round since the incident, everything ok? *BEEP* Sighing, Ben turned off the answering machine. That was the last thing he wanted to think about. He started to pace slowly, lost in thought. When he looked up, he found his reflection staring back at him. He couldn't have been dreaming, He knew what he saw. He brings a hand up to his face, briefly grazing the jagged scar on his forehead. He couldn't have been dreaming, 'right?'

At this point Ben's exhaustion was catching up with him, and as he sat atop his bed his eyes began to grow heavy. He knew there was no point in trying to stay awake, so as Ben laid back he slowly but surely drifted off into an uneasy, dreamless sleep.

XXxxXXxxXXxxXX

A pair of jade green eyes gaze intently on the reflecting mirror. Thoroughly searching for any marks, or blemishes on the face they belonged to.

"Bev, hurry up we'll be late!" A voice shouted from another room.

Bev....

Bev....

She hated that nickname.

It reminded her of a time when she had to sneak about her own home, when she was forced to wear extra layers to cover the scars, and bruises. It reminded her of her father, and the constant stench of alcohol that was on him.

"Come on hun, you know how they get when we're late." A tall blonde haired man said as he walked into room, an untied bowtie hanging from his neck. He stops behind Beverly sitting, and looks at her through the mirror.

"Im sure they can wait for the great Tom Rogan to make his appearance." Beverly joked as she straightened out her dress. Tom chuckled softly before gripping Beverly's shoulder with force.

"We seriously need to go bevvie, you don't want a repeat of last time, do you?" The man whispered, causing Beverly to involuntarily shudder.

"No, not at all." Beverly choked out as Tom released her shoulders.

"Good, then i'll be down stairs, don't be long." Once the door closed, Beverly breathed in shakily, letting a single tear escape her eye. Her hand curled into a fist as she cursed.

She was tired of this, tired of being lied to. She was sick and tired of being afraid, helpless. Yet try as she might, she couldn't escape this hellish nightmare that was her life. Beverly takes a moment to compose herself, quickly fixing her make up and dress. For the time being she would simply have to play the part of a complacent housewife.

She walks down the mahogany staircase, bag in hand and prepared to leave. Yet as she reaches the front door she suddenly feels the briefest wave of drowsiness, it washes over her causing Beverly to close her eyes reflexively. However as quickly as it comes it's gone again leaving her with just the slight breeze from the open door.

Her husband pulls around out front, and with that the two are on their way. As the car coasts along the barren highway Beverly recalls the strange feeling she got just before leaving. She reaches a hand to graze the make up covered scar on her forehead as it begins to slightly throb.

XXxxXXxxXXxxXX

It's 11:27 in Santa Fe New Mexico, and against his parole officer's suggestion Ben decides to go out for a drink. He drives to his usual spot "The Lucky 7". It's faded neon sign bringing a slight grin to Ben's face. Walking into the bar, the immediate smell alcohol, and fried food filled the air, it was comforting in a sense.

"Yo Haystack, Didn't think we'd see you here!" Called Richie from the bar. With A drink in his left hand and his right arm wrapped around his boyfriend Eddie, it was safe to say he was enjoying himself.

"Long time no see." Ben replied, taking a seat next to the couple.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes." The Voice spoke, drawing Ben's attention. It was non other that Michael Hanlon, the owner/bar tender for The Lucky 7. Being a regular customer there, Mike, and Ben were long time friends. Just like Richie and Eddie, Mike had looked out for Ben, even after the incident.

"Hey!" Ben said, playfully acting as if he was offended.

"It hasn't been that long." Retorted Ben. Mike chuckled, and poured a small whiskey sliding it down to Ben.

"It's on the house." Mike said with a wink. The two of them had settled into a light conversation, discussing little things such as the state of the bar, and Ben's release.

"And I felt the strangest pain on my fore head-" Ben's words were interrupted by a commotion surrounding one of the pool tables. At the center of it all was Henry Bowers, well known in these parts for his violent drunk tendencies. There he stood clad in his beer stained t-shirt, swinging the pool que in an aggressive manner while shouting. It's likely that he was losing money, and the drinking just spurred his reaction on even more. Ben sighs, getting up from the bar to go play peacemaker.

"Woah woah gentlemen, what seems to be the issue here?" He questions, placing his hands outward to separate the two. Getting closer to the scene Ben notices a Ruger revolver in the back pocket of whoever Henry was harrassing. Some asshole shooting up the place was the last thing they needed.

"This fucker here owes me money!" The armed drunkard exlaimed.

"You won't get a damn thing outta me!" Henry spat back stumbling a bit. The situation was escalating fast, and if Ben didn't do anything there were sure to be cops on the scene.

"Look look, I'll just pay what he owes you." Ben said as he put himself in between them, hopefully diffusing the tension building in the air.

"Really, then you're gonna have to cough up 200 cold ones." Ben sighed in irritation upon hearing the amount. Of course that idiot had to go get himself into some deep debt. Grumbling as he went for his wallet, Ben begrudgingly handed over the money, and with a satisfied whistle, the guy left the bar.

Ben's head hung low, feeling the lightness of the wallet he carried, but if it meant keeping the peace he figured it was worth it. He was almost back to his seat when he heard a sudden shout.

"BEN LOOK OUT!!"

Welp, i'm gonna end it there folks, and don't worry Ben's gonna be okay.....maybe

Anyways as always favs/reviews are much appreciated. Till next time uwu

Kylo Out

[takaraphoenix]

Review: 3x14 - A Kiss From a Rose

So, @kimmycup and I finished watching that episode!

Let’s a try a different tune and be more positive, because overall there’s such a... tired weariness that settled deep in my bones concerning this show at this point. And that’s actually actively making me sad.

So, let’s talk about the things I liked:

1.) The fact that a stranger Seelie who never met Clary makes a better Clary impersonation than Jonathan can make a Jace impersonation. Like. Boy. Your acting used to be way better. (And yes, this is under “liked” because, honestly, I find Jonathan just straight up hilarious at this point. Boy needs to get his shit together, man.)

No, but seriously - what I liked about it was how fast Clary noticed it. It’s come a time where I once again forgot that I used to actually like Clary at some point. And this was exactly why I liked her! She notices shit! Instead of wasting a whole-ass episode where a character doesn’t notice when someone is impersonating a person they should know really well (*side-eyes Alec real hard here*), she is like nearly instantly “Well that ain’t Jace, huh”. And the trick with the rose to verify was really clever.

I miss them writing Clary as clever. Most of the time they just write her as raging and loud, or insanely horny and stabby. Just... Clary being clever are her best character moments and I like them.

2.) I LOVE SOFT!JACE SOFT!JACE IS MY FAVORITE JACE. Seriously from the cute bedhead, to him again picking something really thoughtful and really romantic to do - I love that romantic!Jace is canon, considering how much he is always reduced to just being a horny playboy by the fandom that apparently never ever saw an episode of the show huh - to him being graceless for a change and falling flat on his ass. Sure, that totally destroyed my headcanon that Jace can ice-skate, but heeey, it’s cute as fuck so I forgive canon.

3.) ISABELLE DOING SCIENCE. Sure, it was only short, but urgh, I love scientist!Izzy. It got so lost in all the romance drama and addiction drama and her... suddenly... also being weapon’s master for whatever reason (y’all still haven’t explained what that shit even meant, aside from you saving on giving another character a speaking role to hand Clary her Super Special Swords). I am still calling bullshit on that entire whole plotline because it is in fact bullshit to act like Izzy and Alec haven’t know all along how the Clave operates, but if it gets Isabelle back to actually doing something productive and showing off her skills instead of just... suffering in some form? I’m all here for that.

4.) Magnus actually opening up to Alec. Y’all know that my biggest complaint about canon!Ma/ec is that they don’t communicate and would literally rather bite off their own tongues than share personal stuff with each other. I like that so far in this half-season, they have... actually been talking about their feelings. It’s low-key pathetic that you gotta praise the very baseline of what a healthy relationship is, but here we are.

Seriously though, the feeling that was conveyed, how Harry played the scene, how much Magnus’ loss stood in the forefront there.

Things I didn’t like:

1.) I don’t trust this show enough to not bring Jordan and Maia back together. Yes, I did like that they talked shit out and had a good, surprisingly long scene together (instead of the usual incredibly rushed quick moments of Actual Talking before they dive right back into drama and action), but this show... I mean, come on, they chose a shared bite that brought Izzy back into addiction to open up the S/izzy, so if you really put it past them to bring Jordan and Maia back together only based on them having One Good Conversation, you do not know this show well.

So, yeah, that’s what I’m currently wearily expecting them to do, because they have given Bat a full screentime of 5 minutes so far on this show so I am somehow not thinking Ba/ia is gonna be endgame.

2.a) That whole Lorenzo story, start to finish, is literally just forced additional drama. And I do mean from start. Seriously, what reasoning goes behind “We need a new High Warlock of New York... so let’s take this outsider instead of a proper representative of our community like, say, Catarina Loss”. But no, we couldn’t have Cat do it and it not being dramatic. We needed a secondary antagonist so let’s put an OC in here. And like, yeah, I like Lorenzo alright, in the role he is in, but it’s also rather... unnecessary. Like, there’s already enough going on and Magnus is honestly already suffering enough without additionally getting kicked while he’s on the ground??

2.b) Also I am willing to bet money that the whole entire story-point of Magnus losing his loft is so Ma/ec can find ~a place of their own~ and move in early after all. Because seriously literally every single loss and suffering Magnus has endured in this show had the sole purpose of furthering the ship. I’d like for him to be, you know, treated as his own person?

Also, high-key Alec threatening Lorenzo over the very fair deal that Lorenzo made with Magnus, regardless of how petty it was, was... Not Good. This is exactly part of the point I keep making why the “OH NO the Clave is torturing Downworlders! We would have never expected uwu” is absolute bullshit for Alec and Isabelle. Because treating Downworlders as inferior is literally how they were raised. And this little display of “I can strip you off your power for upsetting my boyfriend because I’m a Shadowhunter” was very much an act of “I am the superior species” and that’s... uh. Yeah.

2.c) What also bothers me is the magic though. I mean this was like... borrowed magic? From Lorenzo. So, does it wear off? Is this going to be like another addiction plotline where Magnus pulls a Willow Rosenberg and goes for regular magic-fixes because he needs more whenever it wears off?? Because I can’t imagine that “a higher demon took all of my magic in a deal” can literally be resolved by a 2 second, non-draining magic transfer from the High Warlock? Like, Lorenzo wasn’t even outta breath? It can’t have been that easy.

3.) Filing. Okay, hear me out on this one. Literally everything in the Institute is incredibly high tech - all their fancy screens and scans, their database of warlocks, security system, the whole 3D projection of the city they can pull up. There is just no way that they have not digitalized all those old tomes and couldn’t just cross-referrence “Morning Star Sword” in some database. No way in fucking hell.

This is part where the whole world building doesn’t seem fully thought through again. They have all of those heavy, old books in their library. They would have digitalized those. They would have created Institute-wide networks to cross-referrence instead of solely relying on heavy old books in libraries that you gotta comb in person to find shit.

Not in a world where “A Shadowhunter in Paris has just reported a Stele missing” reaches the New York Institute in five nanoseconds. They’re more organized than that and they have shown to be more digitalized than that.

Sure, they’d still have the libraries for aesthetic reasons, but they sure as shit would have used spells or something, or even the Silent Brothers who apparently have enough free time to illustrate Paradise Lost, to digitalize their books.

4.) Luke. Luke getting stalked by those cops for? What? Reason?? Seriously, what charges do they have. It’s not like 0llie died, she was apparently transferred so she could have easily cleared Luke of whatever he was accused of when she had disappeared. There is... literally no legal reason why he is still suspended and why they would have cops trailing him? And then he just... immediately gets arrested. You really think that in the what, ten minutes that you had lost sight of Luke since you stalked him at the café, he had enough time to slaughter all those people. What the fuck, man.

[afabdisasterq]

Awkward Reunions

Who: Quinn Fabray & Rachel Berry

When: 7/6 Night

Where: A Bar in Bushwhick ; Quinn & Duke’s Apartment

What: Quinn and Rachel meet in a bar and end up back at Quinn’s place trying to catch up

Warnings: Alcohol Abuse, Miscarriage/Child Loss, Implied Past Abuse and Sexual Assault, PTSD-esque flashbacks. Quinn is fucked up babes and it shows.

If Quinn Fabray was good at anything, she was good at ignoring her own problems and cutting everyone else out in the process. That's how she ended up drunk, in a bar, in New York City a year after her last contact with anyone she'd once considered her friends. Blonde hair was dyed pink, dresses were traded for leather, and a nose ring once again adorned her face. The miscarriage that occurred only a few short weeks after Puck had dumped her on her ass, had been the start. She'd just spiraled out, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to come to terms with the fact she'd lost yet another child. Sure, Beth was still living but she wasn't hers.

As she played a game of pool with some guy twice her size who was also buying her drinks, Quinn caught sight of a pair of legs she'd honestly know anywhere, even when drunk. "Rachel Berry?" She voiced as she took her shot, cursing silently as she missed the shot. The man snickered and Quinn flipped him off.

She had picked this bar in particular because it was out of the way enough that she wouldn’t be recognized but the reviews didn’t deem the place “creepy crawly infested.

Right now her life felt as if it had fallen apart. The diagnosis of nodules on her vocal chords had only been the start. The surgery leaving her unable to sing as well as she once had crushed her but  she had always dreamed of a family. Jesse was unwilling to risk taking time away from his career and she too was unwilling to risk her career so it had never been much of an option for them- but there was no longer a career to risk since she no longer had one.

But it was the night she brought this new dream up to him he admitted that he was never meant to be a family man. 

The announcement of their divorce coming shortly after.

And maybe it was for the better, if he couldn’t give her what she wanted, but she missed him and had just never been one good at being alone. She didn’t expect to be recognized but unable to turn away a fan, Rachel turns in the direction of the pool tables where her name had been called from.

“Quinn?” Her eyes widen at the sight of her. “What happened to you? I mean...where did you go?”

Quinn grabbed the cigarette resting on the nearby ashtray and took a drag of it, blowing it up at ceiling as Rachel turned to her. She chuckled, dark and fake. "Obviously I fucking ended up here. As for what happened, what does it matter?" The guy she'd been playing pool with motioned towards the near empty glass she had sitting next to the ashtray and she nodded, downing what was left and handing it over to him. He walked off, leaving Quinn leaning against the pool table, eyeing Rachel. "Better question, what are you, doing in a place like this?"

“Why are you playing nonchalant with me? Why are you smoking that?” Her hers click against the floor and she easily stands on her toes to swipe the thing out of her mouth. “Why is your hair pink again?”

Quinn rolled her eyes, glaring at her slightly as the cigarette is swiped out of her  mouth. "Because I can? Because why the fuck not?" She pulls her pack of cigarettes and a zippo from her back pocket. "And if you touch this one I'll fucking knock you on your pretty little ass." She growls as she pulls another cigarette from the pack and lights it, daring Rachel to try her.

Rachel’s eyes narrow as she watches her light the cigarette up. The man she’d been playing pool comes back with her drink and with a smirk the brunette takes the cigarette right from her mouth and puts it inside the new drink. “I’m not going to watch you ruin your voice!”

Quinn growled, lunging at Rachel at the action the brunette took, only to find the man holding her by the collar, both of her leather jacket and her shirt. "Fuckin let me go, Duke!" Quinn struggled but he just pulled her back instead, putting his drink in her hand. "My fuckin, voice, Berry? I don't fucking sing anymore. Don't have a fucking reason to." As she deflates, Duke lets her go and walks back to the bar with the drink containing the doused cigarette. She takes a drink from the glass she'd been handed, frowning slightly, at the taste before drinking more. "Can I light another cigarette or are you going to keep being an ass? Because if you're going to keep being an ass, you need to buy me like five shots."

Rachel shakes her head. “What a waste of perfectly good talent.” Rachel huffs, this time just grabbing the whole pack from her jacket pocket and sticking them in her purse. “I was clearly meant to come here for a reason. This was it. Next time you decide going AWOL, remember who your friends are.” Rachel does go to the bar to get a drink like she’d originally intended but instead heads for the exit.

Quinn growls as Rachel takes the pack of cigarettes and if she hadn't felt Duke come up behind her again she might have lunged again. Instead she just swapped glasses with him, rolling her eyes as she watches Rachel go. It's interesting, the way Rachel then turns from the bar and towards the exit. 

"Are you just going to let her go like that?" Duke asks, handing Quinn a cigarette.

"Why not?" Quinn asks, slipping the cigarette between her lips and lighting it.

"She gives a damn, Q. That's why not." He nudges her and she rolls her eyes. Snuffing out the cigarette and stuffing it in her pocket, she downs 90% of the drink and the rushed after Rachel.

"Rachel, wait!" She can't believe she's doing this. God, of course it had to be Rachel she'd come across

Rachel really didn’t think she’d follow. She wasn’t even rehearsing the scenarios that could occur if the pink haired woman did.

So she’s completely frozen when she hears her name called for the second time that night. “I’m not giving them back.” Rachel tosses the pack on the ground and grinds it down against the cement with her heel. The anger new for sure.

Quinn pinches the bridge of her nose as she watches Rachel crush the pack underfoot. "Wasn't going to ask. But if you're going to be a bitch, maybe I was wrong." Sure, she had no room to talk, but she was angry drunk and these days she was almost always drunk. Which meant she was almost always angry.

“Are you going to tell me what happened Quinn is are you going to try and pretend like this isn’t insane and so very expected of you?”

"I got fucked over. That's all you need to know." Quinn huffs, stuffing  her hands into the pocket of her leather jacket. "You know what it's like to get kicked while you're down, repeatedly? What it feels like to realize everything you thought you knew is a lie and when you think you can't lose more, you do? Cos that's what happened. Ask Fuckerman, if you want to know what happened." Her words are bitter and pained, having to close her eyes against memories she didn't want to remember.

“I don’t want to hear it from Noah!” Rachel doesn’t comment on the rest, feeling it hitting too close to home. “I’ve been worried sick about you. I called and called and eventually someone answered and it wasn’t you!”

Quinn scoffed. "Well you're not fucking hearing it from me." She sighs, running a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends. "What do you want? An apology? I did what I had to, what I needed to, or something." Quinn knew she'd just done what was easiest. Cut everyone out and ran. It meant she didn't have to explain it. Didn't have to admit to what had been done to her.

“I just want to. I need to hear you’re okay but it doesn’t matter. I know you’re not and you’re not going to let me in. This is what happens every single time. For Barbra’s sake!” She stomps her foot. “I’m happy to know you’re alive but I’m not going to watch you do this. I can’t. What is so good about numbing the pain? It doesn’t change the reality!”

Quinn scoffs, shaking her head. "What's so great about it? You get numb enough and you forget. You can sleep and not wake up to the sound of your own screaming. Sure, you wake up with a killer fucking hangover, but if that's the price I'm paying for peace? I'll pay it." Sure, she knows it's temporary, knows she's just delaying the worst of it, but she doesn't know any other way and isn't sure she wants to.

“That’s how problems start.” She whispers, despite the nagging feeling telling her Quinn may be onto something. No amount of yoga or retreats had helped her feel any better about her reality and she had been going to the bar with intentions to do just as Quinn was doing. Drowning it all out.

"Who cares? What's one more problem on top of the rest?" Quinn had been self medicating because it was the only thing that made the hollow feeling in her chest go away. That stopped her from remembering all the times Puck had forced himself on her, coerced her, got her drunk enough that she couldn't say no, got her drunker when she said no anyway. That reminded her of everything she'd lost because of him.

“I care.” Rachel shakes her head, unable to understand how that wasn’t apparent. Had yet to click in the woman’s brain. Even in high school despite their different she’d always tried hard to show the girl support.

"I'd say you're the only one, but then Duke cares and that'd be unfair to him. But honestly, fuck one more problem. It's certainly not the worst of them." Quinn sighs. "You wanna get outta here? Duke and I just refilled out liquor cabinet the other day and we don't live far." She didn't want to be having this conversation but she sure as fuck didn't want to be having it in the middle of a bar.

Rachel feels stuck. She shouldn’t go. It sounds like a bad idea, especially with all the feelings even water couldn’t drown out. But didn’t that prove she didn’t care. “Sure. Okay. Do you have tequila?”

"We do, and it's good tequila, not that fuck you to hell and back with a chainsaw shit." Quinn led the way out of the bar, wishing she could light the cigarette in her pocket, but knowing where it would end up if she even tried. Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she smiles gently at it, but does not respond. "I feel like I'm lucky sometimes, that Duke puts up with my shit. He doesn't have to, no one does. I don't want anyone to, but he does anyway." Quinn looks up as she walks, head angled in just the right way she can watch the skyline change overhead while also mostly watching where she's going.

“Isn’t all tequila just that when you drink enough of it?” Rachel just follows her, unsure how she’d ended up here. When it’s the last thing she expected of her evening. “I’m sure you put up with plenty of his.” Rachel says softly, happy the girl had someone taking care of her, even if it isn’t her. “How far do you live, exactly?”

"Yeah, but the good shit let's you drink far more before you hit that point." Quinn points out with the knowledge and confidence of the alcoholic she basically was. She can't help but chuckle. "Sure, if by his shit you mean his thing for cuddling and having a different boy toy every week. He has to deal with me when I actually sober up. That is a mess no one deserves to see." She sighs, far too aware that Duke put up with far more than he needed to, than he should. "Not far. We walk to and from the bar." As they came up to a crosswalk, Quinn hit the button to cross, pointing to an apartment building about halfway down the street. "There, to be exact."

Rachel’s mouth opens to speak but she stops herself. “Cuddling shouldn’t be taken for granted. You should be thankful. Everyone needs innocent and comforting affection from time to time.” Rachel looks at the building being pointed at and when the cross walk blinks for them to walk Rachel leads the way.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "From time to time, yes. Anytime we're home together with nothing to do, however, is a little much." Not that Quinn actually minded it. Duke was good to her, knew when and where he could hold her. He was one of the only people she trusted anymore and certainly the only man. Quinn follows Rachel, pulling her keys off her belt loop.

Once they reached the building, Quinn unlocked the lobby door and held it open for Rachel before slipping in herself and heading over to the elevator. "We're a ways up and thankfully we live in a building with a functional elevator." She said as the elevator doors slid open and she entered, hitting the button for the twelfth floor, quickly settling into the back corner of the elevator."

“A functional elevated is certainly a perk.” Rachel steps on and just looks around absent minded. She had so many questions, but she manages to only ask one. “You’ve lived here since you left?”

Quinn rests her head back into the corner of the elevator, eyes closed. At the question, she shrugs. "Not quite, no." The first month and a half of her disappearance had been before the miscarriage and she'd stayed where she had been. It had been the miscarriage that had sent her off the rails and right into Duke's arms. Her arms wrapped protectively around her middle at the thoughts that started to seep through the booze induced fog she lived in.

When the elevator came to a stop on the twelfth floor, Quinn pushed off the wall and quickly headed down the hallway to her apartment door. She needs a shot of something before the memories return to the forefront of her mind. Her fingers have minor difficulty unlocking the door but as soon as the door is open she's flipping on the lights and rushing over to the liquor cabinet. Which was more like a bar than anything.  Grabbing the bottle of Jack, she takes a couple swigs, straight from the bottle.

“Oh, okay.” Rachel closes her own eyes, her thumbs going up to rub at her temples. “I’ll stop asking questions.” She promises, thankful when the elevator door opens.

She tries to quiet her heels as they make their way to Quinn’s apartment. It smells like booze and her nose scrunches slightly as she watches Quinn just take a drink from a bottle, like it’s water.

“Are you okay? Where are your glasses?”

Quinn spins the cap back onto the bottle, setting it down as she takes a few deep breathes. "I'm drunk, so I'm better than I could be." There's a sincerity in her voice as she moves around the apartment, hanging her leather jacket up in the closet, tossing her wallet and keys into the small table by the door, and then pulling off her combat boots. "Glasses are in the kitchen, where they belong. Though we usually drink our booze out of mugs, mostly because a have a collection and a half of the damn things. Shot glasses are on the wall in the kitchen as we also have a collection of those. Help yourself to whatever you want, but avoid any bottle with a ribbon around the neck, it means I drink straight from it." Quinn needed into something more comfortable, something baggy that she could disappear into. So, she left Rachel to, presumably help herself, and headed into her bedroom to get changed.

Rachel takes in all the information and is a bit shocked that she's left to do her own searching. She spots the bottles with ribbon and isn't sure how to take it. But she grabs a basic black mug from the cupboard and finds the bottle of tequila that doesn't have a ribbon on it. She pours some into the mug and takes a long sip, before filling it back up. She finds her way back into the living room and she takes a seat on the couch waiting for Quinn and taking in her surroundings.

Quinn eventually returns from her bedroom, wearing an over-sized Yale sweatshirt, a pair of glasses perched on her nose. It's older and stretched out enough that the sleeves cover her hands completely and it comes down almost to her knees. She heads into the kitchen, grabbing her old Yale mug and fixing herself a screwdriver with significantly more vodka than orange juice before joining Rachel on the couch. "Sorry, needed a change of clothes."

“Oh. It’s okay. This is your home, you do what you need to. If I’m intruding or anything I can leave after my drink.” Part of her feels nervous this Duke character would be joining them. She doesn’t know him and who knows if he’s going to like her.

"You're fine, Rachel. I wouldn't have invited you if you were." She pulls her knees up onto the couch and tucks them into her sweatshirt. "So, how has life been since we spoke last?" Quinn had no idea what any of her old friends had been up to in the year since she'd disappeared. Tended to avoid news and gossip magazines, staying her in booze fueled fog as best as possible.

“Oh.” She knows she shouldn’t be surprised by the question, but she is anyways. Instead of answering she brings the mug to her lips so that she can take a long drink. “Jesse and I are divorced and I’m not currently in any productions.” Rachel doesn’t explain that there would be no more in her future.

Quinn just nods as Rachel talks, sipping on her drink. "Never liked him." She mutters as Rachel mentions she's gotten divorced. "Sorry to hear that,  but... yeah, never liked him." Shrugging she wasn't sure what she was supposed to say or do next. The fact Rachel wasn't in anything right now, in a way, made sense. Divorce was a messy process, she could remember her parents going through it, she couldn't imagine balancing being on stage multiple times a day, six days a week, with one would be easy to do.

“I still love him. He just can’t give me what I want anymore.” Rachel shrugs. She didn’t think she could watch him continue to be successful while she’s forced to stop. “So is this what you do? Make small talk and drink?”

"Fair enough. I guess." Quinn drinks from her mug, watching Rachel quietly. "What else does a bartender do? I mean, I don't have people really, outside of Duke and some of the people from his work. Just about everyone I'm 'friends' with are closer to Duke, so..." She uses air quotes around the word friends with a shrug. In a lot of ways she lived a quiet life.

“I’m your friend.” Rachel reminds her. “A friend with a lot of time on her hands.” She adds. “At least I’ve still considered us that.”

Quinn looks down into her mug for a while. "I mean, I"m sure Duke would appreciate me getting out more. And yeah, we're kind of friends, huh?" Quinn doesn't know why she felt the need to say it the way she did, other than it was something Rachel had once said to her, back before she'd gotten stupid. Back before she let herself get re-involved with Noah Puckerman.

“We are.” Rachel nods, following the woman’s lead and looking down into her drink. “So Duke is a good guy then? I mean, he takes care of you, and he stopped you from fighting me.”

"He does that a lot. Keeps me from fighting people... " Quinn grimaced a bit, taking a long drink from her mug. "But, yeah, he's the only man I trust. And probably the only person, at current, I trust with my life."

Is there hope Quinn can trust her at some point? She smiles a little at the thought. “I’m glad you have him Quinn. Really.”

"I'm lucky I have him, honestly." Quinn sighed. "I spiraled right into his arms, oddly enough. Well, more accurately, I spiraled directly into his salon chair and somewhere between blonde and pink, he offered me the second bedroom." Quinn still wasn't sure how it'd happened. She had been so drunk and disastrous at the time that a lot of her early months in New York were a blur.

“Fate happens in mysterious ways. He does good work. The pink isn’t terrible.” Rachel isn’t sure it is Quinn, but who is Quinn really? “Can I tell Kurt and Blaine you’re alive? I haven’t shut up about you.”

"I suppose it does. He's brilliant. I was tired of the blonde and wasn't aiming to go back to brunette, cos that's really not me and I knew I could rock pink and it's just kind of stuck." She looks up at Rachel's question. "I- I don't know... Also, you haven't shut up about me? Should I be worried or flattered?"

“I understand.” Rachel promises. “I just missed you and wanted to know you were okay. I called you frequently hoping you would pick up. I’m just relieved to see you’re alive.”

Quinn eyes Rachel, surprised by that. Sure, they'd been close, sometimes texting more often than even Quinn and Santana did, but she didn't think she would warrant such a response. "I don't always feel it," she admits quietly, downing the rest of her mug. "Alive, that is."

“Maybe you haven’t found what makes you feel alive. What sets you on fire.” Rachel suggests with a sad smile. “Do you think you really would have fought me earlier? If you hadn’t been stopped?”

"I went to Yale for acting but... I don't have it in me. I have spent so long just... acting in my day-to-day life, I can't imagine doing it for real. But, I don't really have other talents or passions. Most days I'm not even really here." She sighs, disappointed in the empty mug in her hands but not feeling the urge to get up and refill it. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Maybe you not being here is preventing you from feeling that passion. Because anything you're feeling while under the influence isn't genuine." Rachel shrugs, unsure if her words were going to be taken well by the other woman. "Okay. That's good to know. I've still only ever been slapped by you."

Quinn rolls her eyes as Rachel speaks. "I stay like this because being numb is better than how I am when I'm sober. I'd rather be in a booze induced fog and be able to function. I fall apart when I'm sober and I stop functioning." She sighs. "In a restroom, of all places. But yeah, I'm a kinda violent person when I'm drunk, get that from Russell, I'm sure."

“You keep breaking down because you continue to force it back, Quinn.” Rachel doesn’t understand violence, doesn’t understand how drinking could be worth heightening that feeling of anger. “Did he ever hit you?”

"Yeah, well I don't like remembering what I'm forcing back, it fucking sucks. And there's a fuck ton of it. I spent three days crying before I got blackout drunk and have been drunk just about every moment since." She hadn't expected to admit and soon found herself getting up and going over to the liquor cabinet, pouring herself a mix of vodka and Chambord. And when she hears Rachel's question, she's thankful for it. "Not often. I knew how to avoid him. And I was his little girl, it was rare I was who he got angry with." She took a seat back on the couch, refusing to look at Rachel.

“I get it. I mean, not entirely. But this doesn’t feel like the Quinn I know.” She waves her arms between them. “You’re stronger than letting yourself drown and if you need help. I want to help you.” Rachel isn’t sure how relieved she should feel with the answer given.

Quinn scoffs, rolling her eyes. "A lot of shit happened to me, so yeah, I'm not the Quinn you knew. And no, I'm not. I can't fucking handle it, I can't. It'll just feel like losing all over again and I can't do that." Her arm wraps around her middle as she takes a long drink from her mug, once again pulling her legs up to her chest. The alcohol wasn't keeping the memories at bay, something about the way Rachel spoke, the way it made her respond. It was like the memories were using it to break free. Using her vaguely mentioning it to come forward. She didn't want this.

“I’m not trying to minimize your experiences Quinn. I don’t know all that’s happened to you. I just believe in you and I want you to be happy. This may be better than living reality but this isn’t your best life. We all have to start over sometimes. You. Even me.” Rachel can’t help but move closer to her. “I can leave if I’m crossing a line. I just, have been so worried, and sure you’re alive but you’re not okay.”

Quinn listens to Rachel talk, just drinking, trying to drown out the memories. "I don't know how. I don't know how I'm supposed to move past what happened. I don't even like remembering it happened. That any of it happened. You can't start over if you don't let go and I don't know how to let go." She doesn't know why she's saying it, but part of her feels like she should. That was always a thing with Rachel, she always got Quinn to talk about things she maybe didn't want to. Sometimes without even really prompting it.

“Healing takes time and you need to.” She pauses for a moment. “You have to acknowledge what it is you need. I think you just did that. And I think that you need to warm up to the idea of opening up in someway. That doesn’t mean to entertain the idea and jump right in. But you’ll feel better. Something that little will help.”

Quinn sighs, listening to Rachel talk. While she's entirely aware that Rachel has a point, she isn't sure it's something she can do. Even the idea of opening up about what happened made her feel gross and weak. Reminding her of all the ways she couldn't get away. All the times she'd said no  and was convinced otherwise. Of when she'd said no and was forced when she refused to be convinced. And like that she was lost to her own thoughts, breathing getting faster as she closed her eyes against the string of tears. "No, no, no. for fuck's sake I said no. Stop it. Stop it. No." She's muttered to herself, frantic, scared.

Rachel is quick to stand up and leave Quinn’s side on the couch. But she doesn’t leave, she kneels in front of her instead. “I’m stopping. Now isn’t the time for this. Let’s play a game.” Rachel smiles hoping she can lighten the mood. “Wanna take a body shot off me?”

Quinn doesn't register what Rachel's saying. She hears her, but she doesn't. The fingers around the handle of her mug have gone white from clutching it so tightly. She's lost in a memory, trapped somewhere in the confines of her own mind. "No. God, Noah, stop. Please." She's crying and shaking, rocking slightly.

Rachel doesn’t question anything instead she sits closer, but not too close. “Can I hold you, Quinn? How can I get you off this?”

The sound of her name registers with Quinn and she blinks a few times. "What?" Then she feels the ache in her hand and sets the mug down, flexing her fingers, trying to ease the pain in her hand. "Sorry. That's not... I usually have to be sober."

“Okay.” Rachel nods her head. “I’m really glad to have run into you. You feel like a breath of fresh air.”

"I don't feel like that." She sighs. "I mean, I don't feel like I could be that." She picks up her mug again, taking a long drink from it before setting it back down. "I mean, how could I? I'm a fucking mess."

“But I’ve missed you.”

"I've missed you too,  I just don't know how my chaos can possibly be considered refreshing. "

“You we a human being back in my life is refreshing.”

"Okay..." she sighs, head resting on her knees. "I'm sorry about what happened, what you might have heard. It's rare when I'm drunk. It's part of why I drink."

“Don’t apologize to me. I’m safe, okay?”

Quinn sighs. "I just hate it. The minute I let my guard down, the minute the fog lifts even just a little I'm fucked."

“I’ve been talking in circles, but you need to let it out. Have you tried yoga healing retreats?”

Quinn scoffs. "Do I look like someone who would go on one? Much less who can afford one?" She sighs. "Pretty sure they'd recommend fucking therapy before such a thing, but can't afford that either."

“Have you tried?”

"Therapy takes money. Money I don't have. And yeah, I've looked."

“But insurance. Surely you have that?”

"Even with insurance, which is also fucking expensive, I can't afford it." She sighs. "Drinking is cheaper and not just because Duke buys my drinks when we're out."

“But it’s not working.” Rachel sighs. She didn’t know how to help her and it felt frustrating

"It works better than anything else. It works better than not."

“Fine.” She nods

"Look, I know I'm fucked up and I'm sure that's the last thing you wanted to find out about me, but it's how it is and I'm not sure what to tell you. Other than, it could be worse."

“I just think you don’t want to help yourself in a way that will be constant.”

"And maybe that's true, but it's also a fact of life that most of the ways one could do that are fucking expensive."

“I don’t want to upset you, okay? It isn’t fun for me. I just don’t know what to do

"There's nothing you can do, Rachel. There's nothing anyone can do."

“I’ll keep quiet about it”

"Okay."

[sfnewsvine]

September Eats Checklist: 6 Standouts of the Month

Revealed September 29, 2022, in my The Daring Italic column: Tsar Nicoulai Caviar Cafe cones Although I’ve eaten in every single place this month from Adriano Paganini/Again of the Home group’s newest, Rad Radish, to the brand new Arepas Latin Delicacies and Fiddle Fig Cafe in North Seashore, these six newcomers (or new menus) stood out in September, overlaying the gamut, from Brittany-style French crêpes to NY slice pizza. Alongside this month’s full restaurant evaluations, I share what’s value tasting at every, with final month’s standouts right here (as all the time, I’ve vetted, visited and/or ordered from every place reviewed): Article right here: https://medium.com/the-bold-italic/september-eats-checklist-6-standouts-of-the-month-425a73922209 Featured spots: —Caviar & Champagne Break: Tsar Nicoulai Caviar Cafe, Embarcadero —Glossy, Intimate Bar with Nice Cocktails & Meals: Foyer Bar, Castro —Sichuan/Szechuan in Chinatown: Z&Y Restaurant, Chinatown —Ferry Constructing Breton Crepes: Grande Crêperie, Embarcadero —Outta Sight Pizza, Tenderloin —Takeout Dumplings: Mother Dumpling, Park Merced Z&Y Restaurant’s rolled hen and cucumber Tsar Nicoulai Caviar Cafe champagne Foyer Bar’s handheld wedge salad Mother Dumpling’s xiao lengthy bao Grande Creperie’s La Full ham & Gruyere crepe Tags:Caviar Chinese language Consolation Meals Crepes Dim Sum French Pizza Supply hyperlink Originally published at SF Newsvine

[lemongrasspout]

Wakanda Power: Black Panther Review

It is Friday 16th Feb 2018, the official release date of the much anticipated Marvel movie Black Panther...oh what a time to be alive! I am in a slight conundrum... my older brother called me up about two weeks ago asking if I wanted him to get me tickets to the premier of Black Panther, he and a couple of friends were going and it was a pretty big deal. I said yes without hesitation. Movies have always been my brother and I’s thing since we were little in addition to the fact that we both lived on Marvel. When i say we I mean more him but I got the blow by blow of all the characters and stories whether I liked it or not.

As the hype began to build and people began scrambling for tickets i watched with ease as I could confidently participate in the excitement. Four days before the event I suddenly got the opportunity to attend the influencer screening in Newtown hosted by Back to The City. Now, I wouldn’t be the “No.1 Liker of things” and not want to attend the Newtown screening. But I honestly think I am over that stage of my life, don’t get me wrong I still Like Things but i would like to think I have upped the ante a bit. I weighed up my options and compared the last ‘Straight outta Compton” screening with a normal movie.I used Straight Outta Compton as a reference because it was The previous record-holder which collected $214 million worldwide in 2015 — over its entire run — after adjusting for inflation. (NYTimes)

Suddenly it was no contest, I was sticking to my brothers crew along with a few of my own friends. And Boy did i NOT regret it!

Forget the movie for a second and consider the cultural event that the release of Black Panther enthused. It began on social media as people all over the world began posting their attire and movie inspiration. Timelines the world over were dominated by African prints, beads, Dashiki’s and traditional Southern African attire from as Xhosa, Venda and Zulu culture to name a few. But what personally dominated my timeline, mainly because I am from the Kingdom In the Sky itself was the seshoeshoe and infamous Lesotho blanket that inspired a big portion of the costume selection.

Now what you guys need to understand is that this is a big deal for us Basotho. Even though we have to admit that the Basotho tribal blanket (Seanamarena) which is such a common sight in Lesotho that it has been mistaken for local invention. Its origins can be traced back to the European traders and missionaries as far back as the 1800s. The popularity and assimilation of the blankets by the Basotho people can be traced back to one single incident.  (The Blanket Wrap) The incident revolves around our King Moshoeshoe taking such a liking to the blanket that he chose to wear it at all high esteemed events and it became a cultural phenomenon. Now that’s what we call an influencer.

The movie itself follows T'Challa who, after the events of "Captain America: Civil War," returns home to the isolated, technologically advanced African nation of Wakanda to take his place as King. However, when an old enemy reappears on the radar, T'Challa's mettle as King and Black Panther is tested when he is drawn into a conflict that puts the entire fate of Wakanda and the world at risk. (Rotten Tomatoes)

I don’t do spoilers, just reactions to the movie. As I sat in my seat with my Imax goggles I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My continent, my people, my culture being represented on the big screen in a way that wasn’t rooted in the past but rather in the future. We looked powerful, beautiful and full of such hope a far cry from the common narrative of poverty and despair.  All I saw and experienced was power!!!!

It was an emotive movie and cut deep. Nevertheless I have to agree with my homie P_Kuttah ( @P_kuttah on twitter) when he argues that this may have been a fantastic movie but it was not the best Marvel movie to come out. He stresses the importance of the original Avengers and it being the reason why there is a black panther film to begin with. Black Panther evolves around Avengers and is impossible to overshadow the first Avengers which includes the Avengers films. Having said that he cannot take away from the cultural impact that Black Panther has had on the world. P_kuttah also muses with the idea that depending on how the other movies pan out, Black Panther may rise to become the leader of Avengers but lets not be hasty.

I have to agree with Kuttah on this one but that does not take an ounce away from what I experienced in the cinema this past Friday. 

According to the New York times Black Panther has broken box office records and shattered myths about the overseas viability of movies rooted in black culture. Global ticket sales by today will total an estimated $387 million, according to comScore. (NYTimes)

I bought a ticket and contributed to this record, that is what makes me swell with pride. i am watching the movie again this week, just in case the world didn’t hear us the first time. Black is power and we are coming for EVERYTHING!!!

This movie gets 5/5 pouts x

[miraimisu]

These Stones We Skip | Cha̵̭̦̓͜pter̷̳͎̮͍̆ 1

◄ previous part  ♣  next part ►

[Read at FF.net]

[Read at AO3.]

Summary: Uraraka, as a newcomer to the most powerful guild in this forsaken village, had not only one, two; but three responsibilities: grow stronger until she was able to pin the world down, untangle the mystery that her past was and survive under the eyes of a crowd that watched over her as night chased the sun’s tail, the charade going on and on until the thread… suddenly snaps.

Rating: T because of obvious reasons such as Bakugou and swearing children. And it’s an AU. Medieval AU.

Word count: it’s fucking long get over it ALREADYYYY

Author’s note: : I FEEL YOUR HEAAAAAAARTBEEEAAAT TO THE BEAT OF THE DRUMZ (8) Hi, y'all /kicked So sorry if this took so much but it's so damn hard to continue this story at a comfy pace with so much lore and stuff building up and having to construct some kacchako as well? I AM STRUGGLING? And a friend of mine told me this was novel-length like lmao she is right tho. I gotta reconsider my life choices. Fo now thanks to all kind people who leave reviews and stuff in this clusterfuck? I DON'T DESERVE IT? But omg thanks

Warnings: it’s long, it’s messy, OLD SCHOOL MIRAI :V It has them feels tho. Kinda. Tons of broshipping. And… some kacchako, finally?? maybe not idk

I’LL BE ALSO EDITING MINOR PLOTHOLES IF THERE ARE ANY HAHA SORRY LOVE YOU ALL BYE :D

“Mama?” the little chubby child tugged at the woman’s red jersey, pointing then across the little river. “Who are those people?”

The pink woman followed the child’s finger to the land on the other side, and squatted to secure an arm around the girl’s petite figure. “Those people are dangerous, honey.” the girl blinked at the older woman, doubt dancing in her big pristine pools. “Don’t you ever go near them, or they will do nasty things to your little cute body.”

The pink woman tickled her tummy for emphasis, which made the girl squirm in her hold. The laughter didn’t last for long. “But mama, I don’t understand! Why are they dangerous? They don’t look so menacing.”

She shook her head at the child and pointed at them. There were some adults working as guards across the river, meters away from the pair. “They don’t like us, and they want to invade our land, your land. They wish to destroy our home because they are greedy.”

“Gweedy?” a finger scratched her cheek, and the woman nodded. The little girl gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “They want to kill us? They want to kill this village?”

The elderly woman got up again, hands ruffling her hair with tenderness. “I don’t know, but just be careful. They are a dangerous species– they are humans, thirsty for blood and lands.”

“Humans?” the woman nodded above, and the brunette looked up. Sunshine covered the mother’s face, but the little girl knew those soft factions nonetheless. “But Harold and I… see?” she rose her hands, grinning toothily. “We have the same skin!”

The woman sighed. “I know, darling.”

“Then, why can’t we all be friends, mama?”

Mother looked far ahead, frown crowning her kind eyes as her hands grew frantic around her child’s head. “It’s more complicated than being friends or not, Nameless.” her finger shot to point at a boy working on the river. His hair was golden, reflecting the sunshine of a clear day, and it made the child’s eyes gleam in delight. “See that boy there? He is a beast, an assassin.”

“But Hawold and I–“

The woman’s hand slapped the child’s head in frustration, aware of the implications of such obvious fact as the skin color, the white of their eyes and the very same absence of horns. “I know, you are similar. But you will never be one of them, honey. You are not a monster like they are.”

The mother gave her hair a last ruffle before smiling softly at the girl under her, who was looking at the boy in wonder. “Why would he want to kill me?”

The mother sighed and started to walk away, throwing a glance behind her to check that the little girl was still in place. “Same skin color doesn’t determine one’s intentions, honey. Just stay there until your friends come here.”

Mother left the second afterwards, the little girl sitting on the muddy grass as the contemplated the thought. A whirlwind of newfound doubt, curiosity and wonder swam freely around her eyes, corseting her heart into a tight grip of anticipation and excitement. Her heart beat out of cadence, skyrocketing high above and exploding into a mixture of deep expectations, wondering how that boy’s voice would sound like, or how his skin would feel. Would his body be as warm as hers, or would his eyes float against hers like Harold’s did?

The girl got up, stumbled a little and brushed some dirt off her yellow dress. Gee boosted her energy and encouraged her to take a leap of faith and start running– running towards the land filled with warm golden night from the sun, bathed in blues and whites with silver creaking against her eyes like a jewel, and the boy’s pale skin coming to view the more she ran to him. Sounds of steel clanking against wood and iron twinkled around her, symphonies of sweat and grunts compassing the hush.

Her dainty feet reached the river, and the waters seemed darker than what they had looked like a minute ago. She tiptoed, human boy not noticing her presence as she smiled at him. There were some guards around that only acknowledged her presence inwardly and continued their game of minding their own business.

“Hi, excuse me?” the boy didn’t even flinch at her calling, focused on molding the iron. He couldn’t be much older than her, maybe 11 years old or so, but his hands were bruised as if he had been working for a century, marred in blisters and dry blood. “Hello, blonde boy!”

The boy grumpily turned to look across the border, expecting to find a brainless pink alien he would have to behead and seeing a waving stupid girl in its stead. “Oi, what is your problem, cheeks? I am busy!”

“Hello, blonde boy!” she waved even more excitedly, water crashing below her feet as her feet grew closer to the edge. He only huffed grumpily and went on working. “Excuse me! There is something I need to ask you!”

“What in the world is your problem?” his hands were constricted in fists, eyes shadowed by his untamed mane of golden streaks. He was somewhat pretty to her. “I am busy!”

“Well–!” she almost tripped and fell over, squealing for a second before recomposing herself while messing with her head, anxiety for this boy’s mood crippling under her skin. “There is something I need to ask you!”

“I don’t care about your stupid problems! Besides, you can’t cross and I can’t hear your girly voice from over here.” his voice was also pitched, but gave hints of growth and it would undoubtedly become rich and deep in the future. “Who in the world are you anyway?”

Nameless had a quick solution for that. The girl touched her shoulder and leaped over the edge, floating for a pair of meters before touching ground. Guards around her started to point their spears at her, startled by the careless display. The blonde boy was scared shitless, having scrambled off his stool and standing a good pair of meters away from the floating alien. The brunette started to flail her arms around, panicking as her mother’s words ringed again in her mind.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause such ruckus!” she took a tentative step towards the boy, only to have him recoiling. “I just didn’t think I would have made it across in a single jump, and skipping rocks would have been too slippery and risky–“

Golden boy pointed at her, words struggling to get out of his idle vocal chords. “You breaking your neck while crossing would have been much better than this witchcraft you have going on!”

The guards only pointed at her with more intensity, armors clanking and drawing the attention of other humans who looked at the scene with concern. “No, please! I don’t mean harm to this village! I just desired to ask this boy a question!”

“And why did you have to be so adamant about it, crazy girl?” the boy grit his teeth at her, fists clenched and his body rigid, tense, ready in case that witch decided to pick up a fight. “You are just another alien– but you guys are mutating fast so we can’t tell you apart and–“

“I am so sorry, I don’t mean to be an intruder here!” her hands clasped the hem of her little yellow dress, shining like sunflowers in pure bloom. “Please, allow me a second of this boy’s time, I’ll run away like the wind after that!”

People lost interest over seeing her so docile and carried on with their daily duties. Meanwhile, the boy snarled at her, shifting to grab his little shaping hammer in case she decided to get feisty and start throwing punches at him. “Be quick or I’ll smash your useless species to smithereens.”

His eyes flickered in fire against hers, a rush of trepidation washing over her as hell, blood and dangerous lights started shining through his bleeding eyes, pale skin contrasting with the dark intentions his impure heart held. Her question suddenly seemed useless seeing a human like this, so bare and bone think, but she still blurted it out.

“Are you–“ her eyes pounded against his very own bonfires, beaming with intention and silly curiosity. “Are you a monster, golden boy? Would you kill me if I were to hug you, ride you like I ride horsey Harold, or if we had fun bathing in the river?”

His brows wrinkled in disgust as such blunt, stupid question, but he was taken aback by how much honesty and sheer wonder she had poured in a short amount of time. To her credit, she had shoved a ton of bullshit in very little time. “Why in the world would I– no, why would I not kill an alien like you, cheeks? Get outta my sight before I shred you to pieces!”

“But–“

“You said you wouldn’t put a fight after this, we have pardoned you enough minutes.” he gripped the handle of his hammer harder this time, an alarming amount of teeth showing. Regardless, he didn’t step to behead her or even made a move to harm her, instead decided to start waving her off the land. “Do your sparkly stuff and leap over, I don’t care. Just leave this place.”

Nameless stared at the boy, heartbroken as he only stared back with a stern glare that warned her to leave before somebody saw her and decided to make the dirty job of torturing her in a dark chamber– somewhere even he knew she didn’t belong to. In a way, he was making her a favor. The doe-eyed girl nodded and turned around, activating her ability and jumping across, a fog of sadness clouding over her heart as the boy only stared in wonder, seeing her fly away so gloomy when she had come to him as a bright, beautiful flower. He decided to hammer those thoughts away, and the girl was soon forgotten.

When Uraraka came to, the smell of burning wood greeted her sleepy senses, heart swarming near her fingertips as the bonfire crippled upon the lodges of stacked wood, flickering and waving under the mercy of the night breezes. The little sorcerer fluttered her eyelids open as the flames greeted her unfocused eyes. Blurs of oranges, yellows and greens melted together and then sharpened to give shape to the forest, the bonfires and a very sleepy Kaminari struggling to keep his eyes awake.

The girl shifted underneath the spare blankets and, when she didn’t feel Asui’s body sleeping next to hers, an unsettling feeling came to open her eyes and slap her dazed mind awake. However, when she heard the rustle of leaves and clanking somewhere near her, those thoughts of alarm slowed her frantic sowing of irrationalities and she dared look up to see a little cauldron heating up something nasty, which prompted Uraraka to sit up.

“Good evening, Uraraka.” Asui peeked from behind the big pot to smile at her with kindness. “I see you have woken up. You sure have light sleep.”

The brunette rubbed her big gooey eyes to open, but they were tired and half lidded regardless her restless heart. “You can say that again.”

The sorcerer removed the blanket from her form and straightened her back, eliciting a pleased little moan from her sore throat. Uraraka had never really slept on the ground before– well, excepting that time she woke up mindless and brainless under a curtain of rain with a wound on her ribs, but it was a completely different kind of ground with some squishiness to it, wet and muddy. This ground was hard, dry, had stones sticking up from the sandy surface and there was always this irrational fear of ants tangling on her hair. Yes, that was petty, but she would have to get used to such hard conditions.

The girl glanced around swiftly, and found out that most people were asleep around the clearing. Iida and Tokoyami were asleep against a trunk between its big roots, swords resting right beside them. Kaminari was all alone though, making Uraraka kind of worry about where Bakugou could have scrambled off to.

“Bakugou is off for some herbs.” she continued stirring the mixture as if nothing, but the sorcerer still almost snapped her head to look at Asui. That girl was perceptive. “No need to worry so much. Don’t cry me a river.”

“Huh?” a weak grimace made her nose wrinkle in distaste, but she couldn’t deny that it was offsetting to see him off this late in the night. “I am not worried. I am just concerned. He is our leader and he’s gone so late in the night. What a freaking weirdo.”

Uraraka huffed in exasperation, eyes stealing a glance at the vacant place beside Kaminari. She didn’t let her mind wander any further and got up with weak limbs, hands dangling by her side– there was no way that stupid narcissistic sociopath would even burden her sleep with his absence, with the possibility of him being in danger.

Why the fuck would he even be in danger? He was perfectly able, be it in the dead of the night or in the middle of a maze. Her teeth grinded against each other, jaw clenched– because this petty tiny concern was useless, unneeded, unrequited, he would never hold her in any higher regard as she would possibly do– yet, a part of her seemed to hold some care for the boy. And it drove her off a damn cliff usually, because it was a tiring game of chasing in circles, never stopping.

Uraraka sighed tiredly, crumbles of sleep issuing from her throat. Despite the obvious fact that Bakugou would never get along with her, she found herself caring for his despicable self regardless– he was her leader, another peer that, she had been advised to stay far from. Yet, she couldn’t find the heart to give up on him to such extent. He had defended her back there at the village, had kind of had faith in her against Shinsou…

There was some hope for him…

Perhaps.

“You like sleeping, I see. I don’t like being woken up, either.” the herbalist made an attempt to change topics, which Uraraka was thankful for. She got up from the makeshift bed and walked to the pharmacist. “While the others sleep, I take time during nights to prepare the potions for the next day, while somebody stronger keeps guard.”

Uraraka eyed the girl tenderly, a little soft smile sketching itself on her face. She was not as familiar as she was with other people like Jack or Mina, but she was attracted to her regardless. “I don’t think you are that weak. You sure would put up a great fight, Asui.”

The water sorcerer looked at Uraraka, not impressed by the dash of fresh warm air the other carried with her, but still a little bit touched by her kindness. “It’s not like I undermine myself, but it’s just for safety measures. Don’t want an ambush coming to kick our healer’s ass– Bakugou’s words.”

Uraraka looked at the pot afterwards, glaring at the nasty looking brewage. “And what is this you are preparing?”

The colors inside the pot blended, bubbled and brewed in an aromatic mist that Uraraka couldn’t really identify, but it smelled like something akin to mind and chocolate mixed together. She tiptoed forward and smelled a little bit of the brewage. Again, it was minty, hot, and had that sweet undertone to it.

“It’s a dipping poison.” Asui stirred a bit faster this time, changing directions. The other girl looked at the water sorcerer and nodded with interest. Asui being there with her group would be a huge advantage, as Uraraka could learn lots from her and pharmacy was always a handy science to nurture from.

“Dipping?” nod, nod, and Uraraka only looked at the colorful mixture in even deeper wonder. A part of her wanted to put her finger in– but it looked scorching hot and her skin was easy to scar and blister. “Is this some kind of poison to use in food?”

The green-haired girl shook her head, not looking at Uraraka and instead rummaging through her bag. Her hands came out empty, so she signaled the other sorcerer to fetch her some spare ones in a flask on the ground. The frog girl couldn’t reach down for the items below the cauldron as she was quite small and she had to stand on an actual big stone to reach the top of the pot, so Uraraka would have to serve as a temporal assistant. When she had the herbs, Asui poured them contently into the mixture, and stirred slowly.

“You dip weapons here, and give temporary poisonous properties to them.” Uraraka nodded again, eyes glinting in curiosity and surprise. It was a pretty handy technique for making weapons be even more lethal than they already were, and it seemed like a very intelligent way of rendering any single threatening object as a needle useful and mortal. “Bakugou wanted me to give his sword a coat of poison in case we have a harsh encounter tomorrow.”

The girl frowned at the prospect. “I see.” she peeked over the edge of the iron container and gawked at how it was turning darker and darker the more Asui stirred. “You must know very well what you are doing when it comes it these things, yes?”

Asui removed the wooden spoon from the cauldron – it had big stains and it was broken in a few places, marred in scars of hurried preparations – and jumped off the stone. “It is a risky process. But it’s not that much of a difficult science.”

She then marched off to a bag she had near her and Uraraka’s blanket, getting some jars full of some kind of pebbles no one but Asui knew about, and threw a handful of them from below, not even caring to look in afterwards. When the alchemist left again, the brunette lifted her hands to fidget with her gloves, afraid of burdening Asui with her request.

“I was wondering…” Asui didn’t stop her task to even show a sign that she had listened, but the newcomer still talked. “if you could show me some advanced pharmacy when we reach our next stop, or maybe along the way?”

The girl did turn to her now, finger on her chin. “Yes, we did talk about this.” it seemed more like a murmur of ponderation and not a proper answer, so Uraraka waited with her fists clenched. She didn’t really have much idea on how to interact with some members of the guild, so she just would go with the flow most times. “I guess I can show you some techniques you can use at emergencies. I don’t have quality equipment here to show you much more.”

Uraraka showed a dashing smile, eyes twinkling in delight as Asui gathered their blanket and settled it on the ground. The other girl was quick to sit down on her knees, legs together with her fists resting on her lap, head slightly bowed– and the pharmacist was a bit taken aback by how willing and docile the sorcerer looked under her. A part of Asui believed that if she asked her to go to the end of the world for a single useless flower, Uraraka would go there if it meant making her happy.

God, how could have Bakugou mistaken her for a villain?

“No need to be so stiff, Uraraka.” the girl didn’t lessen the posture either way, and continued looking at her straightly and determined, serious and collected when she was squirming in excitement and gee for this little lesson. “It’s just a few tips to improve potions, curas and the like. I take it you can only prepare minimal brewages now.”

“Er, yes.” the brunette titled her head in defeat, a bit ashamed to admit that she knew very little for a being a sorcerer. “All potions I have with me were there when I woke up at the forest. Some were a bit more advanced if I recall… but most were basic.”

“It’s fine, you can learn a bit now.” Asui took out some leaves and little fruits. Some sterolias rolled off her little purse, and Uraraka reached out to fetch one. Indeed, it was as sweet as Mina had mentioned it to be. She accordingly spit it out again. It would never not repel her with such invasive sweetness. “Hold on while I sort this out. I didn’t have time to organize my tools properly.”

“It’s fine.” the sorcerer waved it off with a kind smile, and looked around for a bit. Everyone was sleeping soundly, tired from the journey and beaten up after having to put up with Bakugou grumping about how unhelpful Grinning Blade had been, and Uraraka could recall how guilt had been crippling inside of her as she shut up about the ordeal with that man, that guy who had looked at her so intensely and whispered such cruel, fateful words.

Her fingers tightened the fist. Death… they unclenched, relaxed, and the brunette looked at her bruised palms in deep concern and wonder. What did he mean with all that? And why had Shinsou… opened up so fast? What dark business did they have that somehow involved her, of all people?

Something foggy and dark was stirring in a corner of her mind, blending behind the broken shards of a frosted mirror, her future identity and all that carried behind that somehow bringing a chill down her spine– but she couldn’t touch it. The thought was bubbling, bruising, even. In the back of her mind, that man’s words had caused an unpredictable damage that wasn’t palpable, yet it was there, lurking behind the shadows she tried to look through, yet she couldn’t tell apart from mere paranoia and mild fear for what was to come.

A part of her wanted– needed to blame Bakugou for causing her such unnecessary ruckus inside her mind. The way he had spoken so highly and shaken about RampAge had her all kinds of shaken up. He was gone now, doing who knows what in who knows where, probably punching some butterflies off their caskets like the douchebag he was. Perhaps life was having a party on his body and he was being punished, hurt and that was why he hadn’t come back, and an unnoticeable spine run down her stomach and pushed down, down–

Her eyes darted across the clearing and stopped at the empty slot by Kaminari, wondering, again, why she was so uneasy at the thought of him being suspiciously gone so late in the night, why this care did actually exist. It could probably be because he had actually defended her from Shinsou and the whole village before this voyage had begun, but it was such a weird feeling to possess when he was all but kind to her. Why was she worrying so much when he was no more than some kind of vigilant for her?

What a nuisance, a little unneeded feeling. It sure would be a good riddance once she was out of this tired, critical state. A part of her wanted to get rid of it… yet another part of her knew there was no letting go.

“Tell me, Asui,” words fell off her mouth helplessly, not even thinking about what repercussion they’d have, or what Asui would think of her. It was a pretty bad habit of hers. Her eyes left the wrinkled blanket that was his red cape and looked at the one below their knees. “does Bakugou have that much trouble sleeping?”

It took a few seconds for Asui to answer. “It’s always been like this, really. I don’t see him much often, but Kirishima told me it’s been this way ever since he was a child. He can’t sleep until deep into the night. He runs on little sleep, though – tough guy, he is.”

Uraraka tasted those words wistfully, tapping her fingers on her lap. Bakugou didn’t really seem to have such problem, skin always pristine and devoid of rings or bags – but now that she recalled, he had mentioned he knew it took him too much time to sleep. Judging by his foul mood, he probably never got good sleep either. Was the bed too big for him? Or maybe he just got into heated arguments with the pillows? Apparently, the only way to ease this issue was going up the clock tower to either spend a peaceful night in solitude stargazing or being tortured with her presence.

Maybe he was gone for so long because he found that maybe solitude would prompt the so needed rest. It made her feel some pity for him in a sick, twisted way.

“Pay attention, Uraraka.” this snapped the sorcerer out of her reverie, blinking heavily. “Making a novice cura is easy, but making a successful extra one takes some practice. Making one mistake on the process is normal, and it won’t be a catastrophe to ruin the ingredients, but you can’t go relying on luck for further practices.”

Asui took a green, heart shaped leaf, and started to tear off its midrib with her teeth. “This is rough hand work, and if I had pincers, I would be much more classy and neat. One has to take the midrib off these leaves. These are called looibus, and are pretty cheap in an average shop. It’s always more economic to buy these instead of the prepared potions.”

Uraraka observed Asui remove the mid sections easily, and blinked in amazement. She had never seen such display in her life, her lips pinching the leaf and teeth tearing the section apart. “How can you do it so easily, though?”

“The veins of this species are especially thin at their starts.” she took a spotless specimen and pointed at the mid section, tracing it with her finger. She had a cut on a side of her index, Uraraka noticed. “See how the veins are almost unnoticeable? It makes the process much easier. I usually act precautious and use pincers and gloves, but this will suffice for the time being.”

Then, her fingers pinched the petiole of the leaf. “Good fetched herbs must always have their petioles, and if possible, a part of the branch they come from – just a minimal part, to extract the whole juice of the plant. How big the petiole is determines how much properties one can extract from it, therefore determines its final value.”

“Was that why you complimented Kaminari the only day?”

“Not really, ribbit.” she started to squeeze the petioles, also draining some from the midribs. Gooey, red liquids cascaded down into the flask. “The specimen he brought to me is special because of its spores. Those kinds of herbs have other value standards, and are hard to find. As for fruits, they depend on how squishy and intense they are in color.”

The sorcerer took a little sterolia from nearby and inspected it. She gave it a little squeeze, and the tiny fruit, not bigger than a raspberry, melded a bit. It was scarlet red, darker splashes coloring some parts. “Does that mean sterolias are sweeter, then? You never mentioned any property other than its taste.”

“Sterolias are used to dim the bitter taste of curas, but one can’t go around eating them like Mina does. They are horrifyingly sugary and can give one a bad stomach ache if eaten in grand amounts.”

Asui uncorked the green part of the little fruit and squeezed it. A teensy drop of yellow splashed on the other ointment. “May seem like a very small amount, but the potion won’t be very grand.” then, the sorcerer pointed at a jar near the cauldron, sitting next to Uraraka. “Pour some of that water in here. It’s fresh from a nearby river.”

Uraraka gingerly took the glass recipient and slowly put the water in. “Got’cha.” she was maybe a little bit too slow. The water made an agonizing dripping sound as it fell, and the other liquids started blending with the transparent water.

When the flask was full to a quarter, Asui put a hand on her shoulder. “There, that’s enough.” the brunette put the water away. “No need to be so delicate, though. You can be all harsh you wanna. Speed won’t affect the quality of the cura.”

The brunette scratched her rosy cheek with a bit of shame, grin trembling in shyness. She was trying to be as careful as ever, not wanting to let Asui see how nervous she really was about learning so many new things, and being a good pupil. “Right, sorry.”

“It’s ok. Now, stir this a little bit.” the sorcerer started mixing the liquids together until the red and transparent yellow blended and created thick, red substance. “As you see, you would need more leaves for a proper potion, but this will be enough for now. Looibus have high pigmented elements and nutrients, so very few leaves can do wonderful things.”

Uraraka took the little flask and did what human nature instructed her to: sniff the hell out of it. It smacked her nostrils with protruding sweetness and some acid undertones to it. If she had to guess, she’d say it would taste like cherries and lemon. “Smells rather nice. How much damage would this cover?”

Asui looked at the flask and then up to the awaiting girl, who held the potion with dainty hands and delicate touch, as if it was a treasure. “I’d say only minimal wounds, and not very fast. Kirishima told me you gave him and Tokoyami a pair of those during the battle with Pyrox.”

“Ah, I did.” the memory of Tokoyami and Kirishima sitting down in such bad state had Uraraka trembling for a second there. “I see it wasn’t that much of a big help.”

Asui sighed, shaking her head. “Not much, but it’s intention what counts. They could go home in a better state thanks to you.” this information made Uraraka’s heart swimming in pleasant warmth. “Either way, I will give you a little secret for better potions. It’s very silly… but it actually works.” she pointed at her bag as she drank a little bit of the point. “It’s part of what got me in this guild. Give me the little blue spines in a purple jar.”

The brunette undid the covering with deft fingers and ever so carefully took out a single needle. “There we go.” Uraraka was scared to the bone, chilled in goosebumps as Asui unfazed pinched her finger. Hard. “Don’t freak out, I’m not gonna die.”

“What the hell, Asui?” the water sorcerer licked a bit of the blood, nodded and dripped some of it on the potion below. Just some droplets. “Are you actually telling me–“

“I one day discovered that looibus has an actual toxin that stimulates blood creation in the blood stream. I once thought about what would happen if one added blood into the mixture, healthy blood.” Asui stirred the mixture languidly, and dedicated Uraraka a sideways glance. The aforementioned was busy having a seizure near the cauldron, shaking in utter despair. “What’s wrong? Are you really so peachy over seeing a bit of blood?”

“T-That’s not it at all!” then, the brunette pointed at her with an accusing finger that Asui paid no heed to. The brewage turned darker and darker. “It’s just insane to see you so content with bleeding and stuff for the sake of a little cura!”

“This isn’t a little one, you see.”

As a demonstration, the herbalist poured some of it on one of her many cuts of her hand, probably done during harvesting these very herbs. The cut started closing slowly, like a flower blooming inwards, and it was gone in a minute. “My blood is specially pure and healthy. Blood is thought to be replenishing for hard travels, a reason why most of us eat meat scarcely cooked.”

This had Uraraka even more afraid of the stoic herbalist, who was talking about drinking blood as if she was some kind of– “What the hell? Are you suggesting that even drinking human blood is alright?”

Asui looked at her with a slight exasperated glint in her eyes, but it didn’t show much. It seemed like that woman enjoyed keeping herself to herself in the weirdest of ways. “Sorry if it sounds weird, but it’s more of a little belief than solid science. It is true that blood boosts potions, though.”

Uraraka gazed at the still pouring blood, and saw it mix with the cura in little spurs of red claws, blending with the crimson red to make it powerful, an ingredient to save a life with the mere sacrifice of a droplet of human blood. A part of her heart trashed wildly inside her ribcage, the wise and troublesome words Asui had said so casually falling into a void of endless information, lore and extreme complications that would one day save her life– she just couldn’t see it right now, but Uraraka was sure she would find it useful one day.

She didn’t know why, but this lesson was extremely important to her. Yes, it was mildly creepy and offsetting, but she couldn’t help but feel thrilled to know a way to save someone’s life so easily, or at least prevent such occurrence. She entwined her fingers with an easy smile, watching the herbalist dump the potion into her bag. “I had a little stupid question.”

“What is it?”

“Well,” she looked at the ingredients spread on the blanket before the other girl started packing them into her bag. “I was wondering, would the effect be the same if one sucked the liquid straight from the loibuus if one can handle the bitter flavor?”

Asui bit her thumb in thought, and Uraraka had the urge to mirror her doubts by biting her knuckles or messing with her hair. Actually, it was feeling awkwardly itchy. She started to absentmindedly scratch her nape. “Now that you mention it, I had never thought about it. It sure would come in handy.”

“Well, don’t–“

“Are you fucking telling me that sucking on leaves can actually do your job?” the gruff voice made them turn around, and they watched Bakugou’s muscles flex as he held some logs on his shoulder. He unceremoniously threw them into the fire and it started licking the wood with passion, his blood irises brightening. “What do we have you for?”

That bold statement would have affected anybody who didn’t know him, but none of the sorcerers flinched at his brusque, rude words. Uraraka eyed Asui, who eyed her back for a second before looking up at their leader. “To make sure you guys have decent weaponry and not sticks like Hatsume would make to you. She can’t stand you.”

Bakugou shoved a bag with ingredients to the herbalist’s chest, who inspected the paper fixing in caution. “Fair enough, I guess.” condoned the messy blonde to the pharmacist, who ran happily back to the cauldron now that the fires were at their fullest. When she was safely up on her stone again, Uraraka started to fold the blanket.

The hunter watched the sorcerer scramble to sort out their sleeping arrangement, and started patting her pillow. She stretched her arms, her shirt lifting a bit and exposing some of her soft, pale skin. When her mouth fell shut after a little yawn and her eyes blinked soreness away, he finally understood what she was up to.

And when she limmped on the makeshift bed, all he could do was rage about her blatantly ignoring his presence. “Oi, Uraraka! What the fuck’re you doing!”

The sorcerer turned under the blanket and started stirring a bit, eyes blinking to focus on the heaving leader a meter away from her disgustingly tired face. “Do I seem to be killing rabbits?”

“Well, that would at least be useful to the situation, you dumb–“ he shook his head, because snapping on her wouldn’t do for the situation. He had tried to ignore this obvious feeling of hatred he had for her– but sometimes, just sometimes, she made it a bit too difficult being so casual with him. “Whatever, just what the fuck do you think you are doing?”

Uraraka turned under the thin blanket, her eyes facing the sky. Her words took some seconds to get out, his glare so focused on her that it was both amusing and somewhat intimidating, again, to see him so agitated. “I thought we had already stated that.”

Bakugou shook his head and proceeded to squat right next to her bed, hands gripping the fabric of his clay pants. Only now did Uraraka realize he wasn’t wearing his trademark cape and he suddenly looked so much more human and reachable like this.

“That’s not what I meant.” his contorted eyes landed on her stargazing ones, full of stars he would never even dare reach out for. It agitated him so much to see her so– just so pure and snarky at the same time. “Seeing the clusterfuck of problems we have around the problem, I can’t understand why you are trying to sleep it all off and not help somehow.”

That made her finally tear her relaxed gaze from the stars and finally pay attention to her fuming leader, who was seething over her and was either trying to scare the hell out of her or get her to move. None of them worked. “I was just taking some spare lessons from Asui for chemistry resources. Should I remind you of our encounter with Shinsou earlier today?”

Just out of nowhere, the working herbalist butted in. “Just so you guys know, the others are sleeping…”

Both warriors looked at her for a pair of seconds and dismissed her to continue bickering.

“Yeah, I do remember pretty damn well– and not because you did much anyway.”

It was now when the brunette squinted at him a little bit harder, eyes pointed in analysis as his posture was too scrunched, his cape forgotten in a bunch – something so odd from him, as she had taken him as a tidier individual – and his eyes racking around the embroiled ends of her blanket, his mind probably years and possibilities away from what mattered, from what was spinning around them as she stared intently at him. Her brow fell, and she found herself asking before she could bite it all back into place.

“What’s wrong?”

The blonde snapped from his trance immediately. His hands released the fabric of his pants and they slammed the dirt underneath, eyes widened in panic and accusation before she could even explain herself. “What the he–“

She clamped a hand over his mouth, and much to her surprise, he didn’t bite it off like he probably would have done before. Judging by his eyes though, he was probably dying to. “You are going to wake the others up, stop raging on me.” Uraraka hesitantly let her hand drop a little after she sensed he had calmed down, and he made her retreat with a hand to her wrist. He didn’t let go of it for security measures. “I am a member of Yuuei now. You have no other option but to regard me as such.”

She very sadly had the upper hand there. She could no longer be ignored or treated as the terrorist he was trying to believe she wasn’t, but the title was so fucking hard to get rid of after he had hung it on her for this long. Now that he noticed it, her looks weren’t those of a rogue criminal or a strong person altogether. Her cheeks were annoyingly rosy, eyes too big and hair too stupid. Again, she was so deceivingly naïve looking that it frustrated him and only added more to the fire.

He despised her. Bakugou couldn’t say he hated her anymore, because he was no fool and Uraraka wasn’t either. Her eyes weren’t those of a liar, but held kindness of an unbeaten person, slate clean purity in a brown splash of colors, gleaming to the fires of the camping. Her hands seemed to hold the keys to every untamed kingdom of his mind, yet he would never let her have the right locks to open all its rooms. His eyes shifted again, looking at his hands again.

Yeah – his hands clenched, admiring its scars, and closed it again with a grimace – he hated how he hadn’t been right about her being an impure bitch, but a part of him lay in joy seeing the investment would be worth it. The little titles of her head, the twinkle in her eyes, he would be there to see it all come true. It would take time for him to fully accept it, but he had to start taking steps.

It took him a little bit of resistance, but he ended up talking, shaky.

“There is a traitor in our midst.”

There was silence after that. Bakugou looked up to see her mouth agape, eyes big as saucers– but there was no trace of suspicion or anger, just shock and mild fear, or maybe curiosity? Her mind had toppled over the edge and fallen into an impossible abyss of mindless options, scattered pictures of her companions crowding her fall. The faces outnumbered her, scratched canvases of compatriots becoming traitors, and claws pulling her down where it was darker, faster.

Her body landed in solid reality, snapping back as the possibilities stopped spiraling around her– eyes settled on Bakugou, and this was the very first time that, underneath the soft stare of the stars and the moon, the leader had let anything akin to actual feelings show through that thick barrier of his, surrounded in spikes that not only separated people from him, but also the other way around.

He was a leader, another member, one that trusted his people with his stone, guarded heart. Knowing that there was a traitor in his surroundings must have him scared for once, feeling betrayed and having a knife pointed at his neck without knowing who the hand belonged to. The feeling was a bit alike with Uraraka, who regarded all her sleeping companions in a clouded scan.

It was then when the sorcerer realized that Asui had settled near her, and was tugging at the big blanket to cover herself as well. The girl gave the thingy up and shifted closer to Bakugou, who was sitting in front of her. This bad habit of being too near to people could get the best of her very easily, but this was the first time she intended to be a comforting presence to him.

After all, she had to take steps to normalization as well.

“How can you say this?”

The boy sighed, and rubbed his face with hardened hands. The brash leader was a far cry from this exhausted man, who was starting to see a mountain of problems coming to them with RampAge on the loose as well. Having a traitor among them, possibly in this very same camping where security was minimal– alarms were flaring inside of him, and it made him look ages older.

“Remember this afternoon, when we were almost ambushed by an archer?” the brunette nodded. Her hand had throbbed with intensity to protect the blonde in a primal instinct of sudden care, but the initial shake had very much worn off ever since. “The wood of the arrow was made with our guild’s material.”

This piece of data was incredibly accusatory, but the pieces were totally scrambled in Uraraka’s head. “But, maybe they simply use the very same types of–“

“No. Things ain’t that easy in our village.” the wood had burnt so nicely in his hands once he had been alone, so flammable and nice to combust. He knew the touch and feel of it very, very well. “Guilds have their own portion of forest to take resources for weapons from. Pillaging is a very different thing to this, but the Council would never let us have a whole forest for ourselves. Even I can tell that would be conceited and dumb as fuck.”

“So, you are saying that you know it because it’s wood from your forest?”

“Not exactly, as Grinning Blade has the very same kind of wood for their arrows and sticky blades.” of course he would talk about them as wimps when he had a fucking axe as playful toys to battle with. This man was gentle now, but he would have his claws out the moment this intimacy was torn apart. “Clock girl applies a material that helps the arrows burn fast, but that can preserve the arrow while burning, like a match. It’s a handy technique we use for ambushes at guild battles.”

Now that she thought about it, Mina’s hands did have ugly burns. She must be a really valued asset to their guild, as archers seemed awfully scarce as well. “Are you sure this is that much of a secret ointment?”

The ashen blonde nodded, a frown crowning his angular traits. He dragged his ass to a tree behind him and he rested his head on it, a bit far from the sorcerer now. Fire burnt not very much away, the clearing being small and the guild members resting far away from the other, yet close this time heart-wise.

“Frog girl there is who actually helped our blacksmith develop the resin.” oh, so he was talking about Hatsume, the overly excited girl at the support basement. Clock girl was… kind of a lame nickname for her, though. “I trust them enough to know they wouldn’t give this away, so I assume this fucker must have taken arrows from our headquarters.”

Rewinding back into daytime, it had been a shame sun had hidden this traitor in shadows, cloak and hands covered in blackness. Uraraka hadn’t thought much about this event in particular, had thought it was probably one of those illegal hunters making trouble again. Her hands started raking the back of her head, that thing she did all the time when she was nervous or anxious– yes, all the damn time, and everyone included Bakugou hated it.

“This is troublesome, then.” spoke she, matter o’ factly. Her eyes bore in his, worry shining through like water in a glass jar, so painfully obvious she cared for his guild that he snarled, feeling creeped out by her attachment. “If the traitor is with the others, they won’t be able to call us for help.”

He looked at her a bit more, then looked at the fires and secretly watched over his peers. The girl in front of him did the same. “I will be keeping guard in case somebody here decides to play hooky on my ass.” he spoke with such hate, burning ire and anxiety for his guild’s security rising into the air. “I won’t let that fucker get out of my eyes that easily.”

Uraraka observed him from the corner of her eyes, a sincere smile fighting its way into her tired cheeks. Her next words were as gentle as her smile, as her eyes. “You do care, after all.”

It was no more than a whisper, but he heard her anyway, ears trained to hear an ant jump from a leaf to another, and craned his eyes to her. Bakugou showed no sign of approval, but didn’t reject the statement, either. “I am a damn leader. It is my obligation to look after these wimps, because if I don’t, they will be rotten meat by the time we get to the village.”

That made her laugh, then do a double take and actually revise his pointed words. “It’s not like we can’t manage, you know. If you have won so many battles against Grinning Blade, you sure can be lethal. Jack’s words, not mine.”

The hunter turned to her, eyes indifferent but still tasting the pride in her words. In a sense, he was immensely proud of what they had all accomplished together, but his heart somehow didn’t want to take the conversation in that direction. “I never said you weren’t able– I sadly know you are perfectly able to fight anybody in your path.” she looked at him again, cautious for whatever he was going to spit now to ruin her. Surprisingly, he just didn’t. “Kaminari and Kirishima sure are, the same with Iida. I know you guys can actually fight back.”

Arched eyebrow at him. “So, you are actually complimenting us.”

Bakugou doomed her with that sadistic smile of his that sent her heart in a mad ride, but she couldn’t really explain why she still felt so intimidated while on the road to normalization. She would have to get rid of those petty fears if she wanted to meet his ground someday. “When I call you a terrorist, I mean it because you are a menace. It is an insult.”

Her eyes deadpanned in his, bored and waiting for him to go down the very same decaying road. “C’mon, finish me off.”

He squinted his eyes at her, head titled forward. The fires shadowed his eyes in an even harder glare. “What I mean is that now it seems like you can play the role we want you to. So you can try to see that as us knowing you are able.”

“So, you are admitting to me, right here and now, that you do aknowledge that I am strong.”

“Oi, don’t sass me, Uraraka.” the sorcerer giggled, and she crawled to rest against the tree by her makeshift bed right next to Bakugou, who only recoiled so she wouldn’t step over his boundaries. Her eyes climbed up to the starry ceiling above their heads, and found out that Bakugou was wistfully stargazing as well. “Relatively speaking, you are strong for a novice. But I can’t have you relying on brutal smacks that leave you as a leech right after. That will never do.”

Her voice was lost in the night sky, then closed her eyes to feel the dark breeze of the river neat them. “I guess you are right on that. I do wanna get stronger, you know.”

Bakugou looked at her with intensity. The orange lights of the fire lit up her eyes, but it wasn’t like she needed actual fire to shine, right? It was this weird feeling inside his chest of seeing something ever so scary inside of that petite body of hers, a feeling so enticing yet so mysterious as that face of hers seemed familiar– but it had terrified him and then made him leap to anger. She was the only one in this forsaken guild that could flip his switches.

And it threw them off even stronger when he saw that she never meant to trouble him, but she did anyway. Uraraka hadn’t meant to come across as a terrorist, as a menace, as his heart sworn enemy after Shinsou and Midoriya– yet, she hadn’t shrunk. She had sucked it all up and faced him in so many occasions, little by little, and had made her stand up against a fucking mob of people conspiring against her.

She hadn’t meant to step in here, but she had anyway and there she was, quiet as if her whole life hadn’t been turned upside down like his had been. Couldn’t she realize what a fucking nuisance she was, that he was bearing with a little too much to his liking?

Look at what she made him do, have to step out of his way to try and accept her. Disgusting. Yet he was doing it anyway, and it was starting to become easy not to hate her. And a part of him knew she was easier with it that she had once been. He didn’t really want to know what was going through her head, but he deemed it better to be like this.

But then her eyes drifted to his, and she grinned when he found him staring. Bakugou growled with disdain, making her giggle. Her eyes warmed slightly when he didn’t immediately threaten her like he would have, just swallowed it up. Yeah – both thought, eyes glancing up the stars – it was becoming easier to overcome such universal rules.

“How strong do you wanna get, though?” his words were hoarse in wonder, more spoken to himself than her, but it made her interrupt her internal schemes to regard him. His eyes moved to hers as well, red bleeding in pure chocolate. “I don’t know how ambitious you are power-wise, but I can assure you you ain’t becoming a professional powerhouse anytime soon.”

Uraraka hugged her knees, sighing. Her tone deflated slightly, her mind set off far ahead. “As much as I can. As much as I can take. As much as it requires so we can take down RampAge and fix the universe.” so there she went, speaking about such thing like it was a silly matter to the wind. “I will overcome myself, and never bow to an enemy again.”

Her eyebrow was knit in determination, no longer talking to Bakugou, but to herself. A part of him knew this was like some kind of mantra to her and that Uraraka had this tone that esteemed danger and threat in a thousand languages, but not a single cell of his body found the energy to complain despite this being a clear hazard to her. Honestly, at this stage, she could go throw herself off a cliff, he didn’t care much about it.

It may be because he was tired, but stepping from actively trying to kill her to simply not caring about it seemed like a great step to him. Better to not want her than want her dead, right? Irony would get him for that later on.

“Well, as long as you don’t cause me fucking trouble, it’s fine.” condemned the leader, but he had a feeling she wasn’t really listening. “Now go to sleep, it’s been enough talk for the night.”

“Mhm, agreed.” nodded she, still relishing in the glimmer of the fire near her, wood cracking under the moonlight. “We have stayed civil for too long, better to not drag any further.”

The blonde hunter growled at her after such remark, to which she could only laugh and sigh. She wasn’t stupid, and knew that deep inside, he was a bit afraid of moving on from that comfortable stage they had of hating each other recklessly and having swords drawn all the time– but she was starting to move on, which sadly didn’t mean he would move as fast as she would. The past was a long forgotten memory, but she could only wonder how much it’d take for him to let it go.

And the thought tired her so, so much.

Yeah – after a short glimpse at his eyes burning at the fires with passion and complexity, her head craned back to the fires too – she did care about him, after all.

“Papa, who are those people at the barrier?”

Nameless peaked from the border of the cauldron, pink hands coming to swat them away in fear she would burn herself. Bubbles floated from the recipient, pink hues delighting the girl before they burst in the air, and she laughed in senseless joy. “Ah, my child, no more than silly invaders.”

“Yes, that’s what mama told me… but I don’t understand. They seem docile and…” the face of the boy came into her mind, his rude and blonde behavior contrasting so much with those kind faces that had allowed her to cross the river, bland attitudes and some smiles thrown her way. “They even have the same skin as I and Harold do!”

“Harold?” she nodded, only to have her tutor crouch and ruffle her hair with his clawed hand. “Don’t you mean that red boy with the hard skin? Was it... Kirishima?” the girl’s eyes lit up, and her head bobbed again with a wide smile. “Well, yes. You do share some similarities, but the color of your skin doesn’t define who you are, darling.”

“But we are so similar!” Nameless outstretched her chubby hands, petite pads grazing his dad’s claws. “Look, papa, my hands are different! Yet, they are invasors and mama hates them? I don’t get it.”

The little brunette crossed her arms, cheeks puffed in disagreement. Whether they were invaders or not, they hadn’t tried to touch her despite being from another species, from another face of the incoming war– she was their enemy. But nobody had dared to touch her. Her dad could see a million thoughts running across her sensible mind, so he just shook his head in utter defeat.

“Some time ago, we took something from them– something very important.” that had her looking up, hands limp on her sides with the very same naïve look everyone knew her for. “Something that holds great power, something that belongs to us, and has always belonged to us. It’s the reason we are still alive now, they fear us. This land– this planet alone, it all belongs to us.”

Nameless continued looking up, brow knit in confusion. Her heart beat out of control, breath stale and staggering to keep her alive in the very same place she stood, and she wasn’t there anymore, backgrounds changing to a fuzzy rainy ghost town full of dead trees, where an orange house stood and a warm family lived. The drops of a far away rain hammered on her skin, and never left.

When her eyes looked up again, they were wet with tears. “Daddy, I don’t understand! Does that mean they want to really destroy our species? Because they are… greedy?”

Father looked at the girl sternly, but didn’t give her a response, stirring the brewage silently as Nameless wiped her eyes clean. In fact, her father would never give her an answer, but the fact that his eyes had stared at her so intently brought tears to her face every time.

A part of Uraraka had once found herself believing that travels like these were bound to be fun, used for bonding and mental training. As she had been packing all her stuff, the only thoughts that racked her head being images of her friends laughing, telling stories as they went or taking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Of course, she had been wrong.

Not too much. But still.

The group walked through the forest in a slow trudge, under the shelter of a blinding sunshine that never gave it a rest. Whilst they were walking just by a river – Iida had diligently explained to her that the Capital was located just by a river, so as long as they went in the right direction, they would never get lost – there was no breeze whatsoever, and Uraraka had to remind herself that using magic under such critical elements was not healthy.

There was this moment when Tokoyami came to her side and asked for some whips of air, as Asui had no knowledge of how to do them. The brunette had sighed in resignation. “It’s not wise to use elements you can’t actually bend in space. Bending elements consumes energy, but bending elements one has to actually create is an incredible waste of energy.”

Kaminari, who had been talking with her all the way, butted in shamelessly. “Whoa, those books that Yaoyorozu gave you must have paid off for sure. You sound so technical, Uraraka.”

The sorcerer smiled as contently as possible, sweat gleaming under the hat. “One tries her best. It has happened to me that when I try to light up a candle with no fire around, I feel a bit colder afterwards. So now, creating air out of nothing would possibly knock me into a heat stroke, and I doubt you guys would enjoy carrying me all the way to our next stop.”

She could already hear Bakugou scheming ways to convince her to help Tokoyami, and fumed at his back. He walked a few steps ahead of them, battle sword in hand just in case any nasty enemy came to crash the party. Bakugou looked behind him and instantly snapped when he found her staring at him with that stupidly fumming of hers. “What the hell are you gawking at me for, Uraraka?”

“Wow, Bakugou, moody much.” commented the other blonde, and it sounded like such an obvious statement, devoid of surprise and just too plain regular that nobody paid him any attention. “Sleepless again?”

This time, the hunter was the one to look back at her, but his eyes weren’t as loaded with hatred as one would expect them to be. “Yeah, talkative midgets won’t let one rest.”

Uraraka found herself very much offended when all eyes landed on her. “Hey, I am not that talkative! Stop– Asui, are you seriously laughing at me?”

Asui had only giggled a bit, which counted as a laughing fit for her. “Sorry, I am just kind of glad you two are already making nice. Kudos for putting up with Bakugou so far.”

The leader stopped in his tracks and leaped before Asui with a tapping finger on her arm. It had taken him way too long to snap at someone, which made Uraraka breathe out, finally. It was better to have him throwing a fit now than when they got to the village, tired and sore from skipping streams and getting boulders out of the way.

“Oi, who you calling hysterical, frog girl!?”

She only blinked at him, not as terrified as pale Kaminari was of him. It really seemed like most people from Yuuei had the beast under control, but even Uraraka herself who was kind of used to him – she had experienced him at his worst personally, there wasn’t much worse than that in store for her – would jump at his brashness sometimes. Asui, though, she was so collected and unbreakable.

Sometimes, she wondered if–

“FUCK!” Uraraka turned to see Tokoyami clutching his shoulder in pain, and with a little shift of his posture, she found a dagger stabbing his skin. “What the absolute–“

“My my, foreigners in our territory!”

The crew turned to their right, above the river and up to a mountain cliff. The leader of the group growled loudly and unconsciously walked to stand before his team, sword drawn at the unwanted presence that stood atop the cliff. They wore black cloaks and there was this one that stood in front of the group with some kind of scepter drawn out, black strands of hair blowing in the wind. Uraraka could even sense the wicked smirk that Bakugou sported so well under the capes.

“Hold on…” her eyes squinted at the cloaks, and recognized the beads at the pointed hoods. Her breath got stuck in her throat. “– t-those are…!”

“That fucker.” snarled Bakugou, cleaning some sweat from his jaw. “Where the hell did you guys come from?”

The female voice talked again, head lolled in mean intentions. “Nobody you will ever care about, soft boy.” she looked at one of her henchmen. “Wipe them out.”

This mercenary swung his hand to the right, and a thousand purple spears appeared in the air, pointing at them, and fell down faster than a lightning bolt to crush them dead, pierce their skulls and leave them bleeding on the ground, making the leader chuckle and lips her licks at the full display of flesh she’d have for her people, but–

“Look out!” Uraraka’s staff swung at the sky and a rampage of fire and lighting exploded the attack into smithereens as a ceiling of light rippled in the air, making the forest dance at the wave and the enemies’ cloaks float for a few seconds. The energy rippled onwards into the forest, and burnt some of the highest trees until they were no more than ash.

Uraraka stood straight again, forehead sweaty and weak knees. “That was close.”

Bakugou smacked her on the neck with a grimace, which she rubbed in pain. “No need to burn the fucking whole forest down though. We’re seriously gonna work on that.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at the awaiting group, dangerous lights flickering down in her glower. “Noisy children.” she tugged at her hoodie, and dug some dirt out of the cliff with her staff. “Be right back, guys. Don’t wait up.”

And the woman straight jumped off the cliff, staying in mid air for a few seconds to focus on a safe landing. The blonde leader tugged at Uraraka’s neckline and yanked her backwards so she could stay out of the damn way because she didn’t know how to do anything else but stand in his way. When he saw that that damn witch was going to land straight on him, he dug his blade on the dirt and held his wrist straight up.

“This is gonna hurt like a motherfu–“ and he fired, rippling explosions driving through his skin until they imploded and exploded into the air fifty meters above them, fire bubbling in the air as a gust of wind rushed into the ground and slammed on the dirt loudly, making Asui actually stumble and fall into Iida’s armored hands. Uraraka held onto life by driving her staff into the ground, Kaminari holding onto her as well.

This foe though, she was no commoner. Her body dived straight through the explosion with her cloak riding the air, and the hunter had to leap back with a shriek her her scepter slapped the ground and made the soil crack under her feet. Then, she was up, head titled in amusement as her voice cackled in disbelief. “Fun trick, kid. You sure don’t fool around.”

“You…” Tokoyami stepped forward as well, standing by Uraraka’s side. A hazard of a shadow lurked behind his eyes, oh she could tell so well, and his hands were clenched in crossed arms, pondering the potential of this enemy. “you are one of those illegal hunters, aren’t you? From the Jirou family.”

“Ne, such a blunt statement from a bird boy.” she wiped something from the corner of her mouth, and Uraraka came tumbling into the terrifying conclusion that is was red, crimson blood. “Why say it so spitfully, boy? It’s not like we are the plague. And please, don’t make me feel related with that bunch of scruffy criminals. I have more class than that.”

Kaminari stepped in front of Uraraka and Asui, who looked troubled at the sight of such shady woman. “Not like you made that evident, jumping off a high cliff to attack some kids.”

“Never said it wasn’t an adventurous kind of class, blondielocks.” her eyes bled in blue purity into Uraraka’s ones, speaking of horrible death penalties for the sorcerer in her head. “Ah, this child. You sure ruined my little show before, I can get why your village is so damn scared of you.”

Her other hand rested on top of a black whip, nails long, black and dirty. Her uniform was torn in several places, revealing bunches of scarred skin and blood caked on her hip. This woman – Uraraka shuddered under Bakugou’s glare, who was exceptionally aware of what she was thinking – was dangerous. In a kind worse than Bakugou, worse than Shinsou, or darker than that man’s chamber at the mountain crevasse.

She was terrifying, and the thought made her take a step back until she was met with silence from the black-haired woman. Something was telling her to step back, something deep inside those eyes made her world fall into a ditch of statics and bugs, nagging thoughts of nightmares and blood dripping down her hands, heads surrounding her and rain falling on her neck again–

A jolt of electricity made those thoughts disappear until they were no more than a stain in her mind. “She’s toying with you. Don’t look into her eyes or she–“

“My, such a talkative boy.” snarled the woman, flicking her hair over her shoulder under the cloak. “Let me introduce myself, even though I doubt it’s necessary, right? Judging by your faces, I doubt it’s necessary.”

Her hand fetched her hoodie and tossed it behind, revealing a sharp, pale face with black glasses and pointed factions. That face… – Uraraka screwed her eyes shut, biting her lip as she thought back in days when she had seen that face, that victory and those dead eyes of hers that–  Uraraka gasped, and a mild rush of fear ran down her spine at seeing such a dangerous figure stand idle in front of them, in front of him.

“I go by the name of Midnight, referred as Hollow Despair by my peers and all those who survive me.” her voice was arrogant, but not in the way Bakugou’s was, again. She was in so many ways as mean as the leader was, yet it was easy to see he was just unreliant and brash. Yet, this woman… she was so much more than that. “Hey, brown eyes, see this staff? It’s way prettier than yours.”

Uraraka had the urge to spit on her and say it just wasn’t her cup of tea, because that scepter of hers held a deadly aura nobody liked. Black staff with bars surrounding a cracked skull, moss growing out of the ancient heirloom. It sprinkled some odd vibes off the scepter, smells like a cemetery, and the place is suddenly deadly silent for the moments to come, the voice of this mercenary filling the whole forest. “I am a necromancer, professional in the art of death and despair, and whoever who crosses paths with me is destined to receive a nightmare battle. No opponent of mine leaves unscarred. Nobody ever has.”

This makes Uraraka gulp, and hears the distant clinking of Bakugou’s sword being drawn out from the earth, and a chuckle. It is all so distant, why did she feel like this? Blood was plumping into her heart in a frenzy, rationality forgotten as her hands trembled on her staff’s hold. What the hell was going on?

“Necromancers are the antithesis of sorcerers.” mumbled Asui to her peer, who eyed the pharmacist with tired eyes. It looks like Asui was kind of exhausted as well. “Their energy naturally draws your energy and sucks it into their bloodstream. Our magic can’t do much against them.”

“Then, we are useless?” exclaimed she, frantic and desperate as the deafness only drew in closer. “We can’t do anything?”

“Pretty much.” Asui looked at the four warriors in front of them, and eyed Bakugou as he drew his blade in front of his guild mates loyally, which made Asui sigh in relief. “They won’t need us that badly. I wouldn’t worry much over it.”

The brunette had never felt this helpless in her whole life. This was the first time she remembered to have needed to lay down her weapons, nature too cruel and mean to allow her to fight. Her hands trembled in anxiety as the boys aimed for the woman, attempting to nuke her as hard as possible– but their attacks were futile against that agile woman who rejected their attacks with a swing of her damned scepter.

“What the hell, woman?” the leader held a hand up, explosions rippling, and slammed it to the ground as to make it tremble, knocking her back a few meters as it cracked and shook under Bakugou’s grasp. “You a look a lil’ shaken up! Why don’t you come and face us?”

His bravado was all but useful – mused Uraraka solemnly, gripping her staff with strength. A little breeze blew from behind her in the middle of the battle, making her nape feel relieved and her life start beating anew, renewed limbs and decision etched in her thin veins. Asui looked at that dangerous glint of hers, and grew worried for her friend.

“Iida, protect Asui!” called the brunette, making the knight spin to meet her eyes. “I will serve as support for them!”

The brunette treaded towards the fighting blur of colors and smashed the ground with her foot, a column of spikes rippling from beneath and running towards the necromancer, who broke them with ease with a swing of her scepter. Ah, so much for being sneaky, and Bakugou looked at her with exasperation at her for pulling such bland move.

“Oh, we have a newcomer here.” Midnight tossed a strand of hair aside and pounded the ground with her weapon. Uraraka heard Bakugou and Kaminari grunt, and they were clutching their heads when she craned her head to meet them. Her eyes grew concerned, but didn’t think much of it. “It’s good to see a little mage playing with the world as well. We sure are the misunderstood profession, huh.”

Her heart was tugging ever so slowly as Midnight stared at her intently, and her stomach lurched as something akin to exhaustion and awkwardness stirred deep inside of her, her brain racking with various facts that suddenly made her feel nervous, anxiety crawling and gnawing from behind as it pulled, pulled, and suddenly impacted on her.

The brunette was almost brought to her knees as energy was drawn from her, replaced with all kinds of negative thoughts that had her mind screaming to stop, weak and fragile, slow and burning. “Disposable.” snapped the necromancer, and tugged her hand up to make the ground quake beneath her, sending Uraraka flying towards the depths of the forest.

Kaminari screamed for her name, but was interrupted halfway when her feet scraped the ground and created cushioning spikes of stone and stopped the push, landing on her knees with a hand on the ground, panting. Bakugou and Iida blinked at her, and watched her brush a bead of sweat off her jaw. She might have survived that, but that woman was drawing energy off her too fast.

“You can’t die, huh? Miracle girl I shall call you.” snarky, egocentric and the pure evil, that woman was. The little sorcerer was able to stand up, and Kaminari instantly came to shield her, whip drawn out and sparkling with bolts. Midnight licked her lips at the blonde boy, who was frowning in a threat at the mad woman. “Don’t stare at me so hard, boy.”

She dug her scepter a bit harder on the ground, her smirk tightening as Bakugou and Kaminari this time doubled over in pain. They groaned a few curses, but still managed to stand. Bakugou dug his hand into his head and Uraraka saw him tug– wow, he was trying hard. “What kind of game are you playing, damned witch?”

Uraraka’s eyes then drew to the staff on Midnight’s hand, and watched the skull. Blood rushed to her ears and deafened for a second, a wave of displeasant wind thundering across the small clearing. It sent Bakugou and Kaminari to their feet almost instantly, but Uraraka was quick to bend the current and drive it back to her, sending the mercenary flying meters behind again.

“Fucking shit,” mumbled the leader, struggling to stand again now that the other woman was a bit further away, trudging towards Uraraka. “what the fuck are you–“

“She may be a necromancer and…” her legs buckled underneath her, but Bakugou made no attempt to help her stand as in, as he expected, she was able to sustain the swoon and manage to grab her staff for support. “all that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t use brutal force against her.”

Bakugou stretched his fist with his other hand and rolled his neck a little. “I can handle her, but your magic will only nurture her if you use too much of it. It ain’t wise at all to go into battle, Uraraka.”

The girl eyed him warily, an eyebrow quirked as she finally properly stood up. Midnight was starting to stand up, brushing some dirt off her neck, and Kaminari stepped to his peers again. “She ain’t backing off easy, huh?”

“Ain’t happening.” the leader was still kind of scored on, his legs were quivering in the meanest of ways, and he held his head on his hand. Still, the grimace of a challenge still gung on his face. That made her smirk a little, and his sword hissed in front of her feet. “Not like we can’t take that bitch, right?”

Uraraka dug into the ground with a defiant, meancing glint in her eyes, and Kaminari stretched his fists as jolts shot out of them. Still, the girl wasn’t sure if they would hold up for much longer. They were panting, willing to fight but their bodies seemed to have other plans. She did hold onto hope despite the circumnstances, and watched the necromancer get to her feet with a horrifyingly pissed expression.

Her head snapped to the cliff she had come from. “What the fuck are you losers doing up there? Get these kids!”

Bakugou already had a plan in mind, and flashed a glare at the bird man. “Bir– Tokoyami, Iida!”

“Got you, master.” Tokoyami was gone in a flash of shadows, and a screech that Uraraka had to cover her ears from. Iida was gone with the boy, and had left Asui to stride to her companions.

The enemy was gripping her cloak when Uraraka looked up again, and this strange, bleak smile broke free when she had all their attention. Her brow was knit though, showing a contradictory set of emotions. The sad, angry and ravenous vibe never wore off, and only started to wear thin on everyone. The more they looked in her eyes, the more the darkness drew closer.

Bakugou stepped a little bit forward, standing in front of the group. The woman wanted to laugh. She did. “Oh my, such mighty group sending two boys after my mercenaries. I hope you bid them good farewells before this encounter.”

Kaminari put Asui behind him in basic instinct. Uraraka, instead of being content with the arrangement, stepped forward as well. “You should be worrying about your people more, old hag.”

“What do you–“

A collection of pained screams issued from somewhere in the forest, along with the very same screech they had heard before but double in intensity, as if moaning in misery. It was heartbreaking, yet immensely powerful. Midnight turned at them in disgust after narrowing her eyes at the source of sound. “What even–“

“That must be Tokoyami sorting out the trash, ribbit.”

“Tokoyami…?” now that Uraraka thought about it, she didn’t even know much about him. As far as she had seen, he didn’t even have weapons with him. What the hell was his profession or skill if he even had one? “Well, that’s not the thing now!”

Mignight growled at the people who she saw as children, a nuisance, and pounded the ground with her scepter. “Silence!”

“GAH!”

Kaminari and Bakugou let out a loud scream of pain before limping onto the ground, trembling and crawling on the ground for dear life. Kaminari was out of comission in a second, his trembling stopping altogether and his breath haltering. Uraraka gasped and stiffled in a scream as some blood started pooling around the boy’s head, white and statics covering her mind as screeches, blood and rain mixed in a metallic pang of worry and panicking.

And above all, red. The red of Bakugou’s eyes, squinting at the necromancer as he crawled to her. It was as if gravity was pulling him down and not up as usual, his voice wasn’t edgy nor his muscles were tensed in emotion. This was raw, desperate Bakugou, crawling as Uraraka stared from behind.

“Y-You… fucking bitch…”

Moments of void echos vibrated in the zone, and the leader fell out of consciousness, reality leaving his thoughts and movements and he fell, shattered and stopped breathing. When Uraraka and Asui saw the very same crimson blood start falling off Bakugou’s closed lids, something snapped in Uraraka. The image came in waves at her, something about it being so so vaguely familiar, yet so very distant and out of reach.

Showered in far away, metallic awry rain, she watched the blood spill from his head, and then looked up at Midnight in pure rage. “What the hell do you think you are doing to my people, witch!?”

“I can’t really see the diff–“

“Shut up!” Uraraka flung her staff in front of her, ruffles of fire cascading down onto the earth, with lighting, making Midnight jump to a side and avoid the fire crackers.

Her staff touched ground again, and as she crossed her hands, an ancient spirral of chaos and destruction shone under her feet, contained in a white seal of thunder and rocks. “Accept your fate, nothings!”

When she released the seal, a big thunder wave of wind and lighting slammed onto the ground, shook the gravel and sent the brunette flying meters behind, trashing trees at her wake as she flew across the air and landed on a bigger tree, which resisted her push yet made her head hit the trunk pretty bad, clothes scarred and torn with burns on her skin. The area was ruined with a long hallway of broken trees and dust, making Asui frown her eyes at the murderer.

Uraraka didn’t get up yet.

Midnight looked at Asui with disdain. She couldn’t feel any magic in her, and that… thing wasn’t even human. She was a mutant. “I don’t know what you are, little thing,” with a hard thrust on a crack, Asui was flying as a rock pillar sent her out of the ground from below. “but I don’t think these kids will need you anymore.”

Asui tried her best to flail her arms around for some movement, but Midnight ended discarding her at the river that flowed behind them, and Asui didn’t surface from the dark waters either. The necromancer chuckled at the rich collection of decaying bodies in front of her, and saw them writhe a little as she moved. Her scepter articulated a chain with a gripper, that attached itself to Bakugou’s neck. It gripped his throat tightly, and as Midnight tugged at the chain, she smirked. Delicious blood dripped down his jaw as his nose bled as well, and she kicked his shoulder as she clenched the chain with her fists.

“Pretty little boy.” the tugged at the chains harder, and tried to dislocate his shoulder with another kick from her heeled foot. “Such a disg–“

A explosion was heard in the distance, and Uraraka was sent flying after Midnight as fire rippled from her palm, screaming at the top of her lungs. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!” and her body impacted with Midnight’s in a deaf sound, movement stilling before the woman was sent straight into the cliff, a cavity created as the necromancer unceremonously landed on the wall.

Uraraka hissed in pain and waved her hand with a little blow. She couldn’t understand how Bakugou did that crime on a daily basis without being handicapped for a while, because her hand would bleed and bruise after such compression and explosion of energy. Magic wasn’t supposed to hurt her that much physically, but this trick of his was a fucking suicide bomb.

However, Midnight didn’t take much longer to be getting up again. Uraraka looked at the river, and alarms rung all over her head, an annoying beep in her ears as the crash left the whole place silent. “Asui!”

But a clap of thunder tore the ground beneath her apart, and a huge shadow kicked her on the back as Midnight slammed the scepter into the crevasse. Uraraka rolled dangerously near the river, and the necromancer jumped to this side, snarling. “Disposable little thing.” she gave her another kick, and Uraraka was sinking into the waters of the stream.

Her eyes tried to blink open in the dark waters, and could differ some streaks of light stemming into the low ground below her as she floated deeper and deeper. Her hair waved around her like a halo, her torn clothes heavy and caressing her burnt skin, caked in blood and savage intentions that had left her dizzy, confused, and she was almost touching ground now. Luckily for her, the river was particularly still now, but it still carried her onwards little by little.

Uraraka finally fluttered her eyes open, and silence greeted her surroundings aside from occasional bubbling. She tried to make out her surroundings in the muddy waters and found out that some wounds were stinging her like bees, so she gripped her hand for dear life. Her back was throbbing as well, which wasn’t very good either.

She grimaced. That nasty necromancer was for sure doing bad things to the bodies of her friends, and she had been so fired up at the thought of having to celebrate a burial in such nice day. Her eyes had lit up, teeth clenched as an avalanche of disarrayed emotions whirled through her– only to die here, at the hands of muddy water and a laughing sociopath.

She looked at her bruised hands, then at the surface, and tried to flail a bit a move. Nothing. She kicked her feet around, nothing. Not knowing how to actually swim only came to her mind now, and she would have cursed loudly if it hadn’t been for the water making its way into her esophagus, ice and fire fighting as it burned, scrorched, and she clenched her eyes in pain.

Then, something frail and lukewarm enveloped her in the muddy darkness, and she let herself be taken.

Midnight kicked Kaminari’s unconscious body a little, humming in approval. “He would make for good fodder. I can use him as a delicious container, though… heh, so many possibilities for my people, to–“

A loud splash of water rumbled behind Midnight, and she turned to witness Asui enveloped ina massive bubble of water, Uraraka tucked under her arm as one of her hands was shot forward– and the pair floated in the ball of tides before Asui unleashed the currents onto the unsuspecting Midnight. “River Enchanting: Dragon Slash!”

The bubble disappeared into the shape of a roaring transparent dragon that screeched and pushed Midnight deep across the forest, creating a streak of havoc that threw the enemy out of the clearing, devastated trees and created a little earthquake when it smashed the necromancer onto the ground, throwing her to the dirt below.

Asui left an almost unmoving Uraraka on the ground as she effortlessly strode a bit towards the streak of destruction, no signs of pride showing whatsoever the moment she saw the wrecked, shaking bodies of her peers on the ground. The other sorcerer made an attempt to lift her head, and started coughing out water like a sprinkled as soon as she was conscious enough.

As Asui stepped nearer, she glared at Midnight like she had never done. “Don’t underestimate a little girl like me, hunter.”

Midnight hissed dangerously at the herbalist, crouched and wiping some dirt and blood clean from her face. “Not worth the pain, fucking children.” she tucked her head under the hoodie of her cloak and fled out of the scene, letting Asui breathe in relief while rushing to Uraraka’s side.

The girl was trying to spit all water out of her lungs, clutching her chest while grunting and grimacing at her blisters and cuts. “Are you alright, Uraraka?”

Cough, cough. “Y-yeah, just–“ she closed and opened her bruised hand, sighing in relief when there was no open wound that could have been polluted by the water. “– kinda peachy. the others though…”

Uraraka scrambled to her feet and hurried over Bakugou to slap his cheeks a few times, then shook him. The fallen leader only breathed a little bit, blood falling down his nose and trailing on his cheek. Uraraka craddled him on her arms while Asui checked on Kaminari. She wasn’t even thinking, all she wanted now was for him to wake up, just wake up, jus–

“Uraraka, stop!” she couldn’t understand. Why was seeing Bakugou hurt hammering so hard on her? Her heart wasn’t beating that hard, she wasn’t breathing heavily– no signs of distress, yet, why was she clutching his head so tightly?

Metallic thunder and rain clapped in another place, falling down on them in another story, another world, another time. It was raining somewhere else.

“Mother…”

“We must hurry!” the brunette eased one of his arms around her neck carefully, and wrapped her own arm around his waist, getting up. “We need to take them to the nearest village, quickly!”

Asui obediently tucked her own arm around Kaminari, who almost toppled over and crushed her with his weight. “Couldn’t you use your ability, though? We could take them there faster.”

“Impossible.” and Uraraka regretted saying this, because if she had spent more time training her skills rather than chatting around, she would be able to take them flying somewhere safe. “My ability gives me terrible nausea if I overuse it. I haven’t had enough training to–“ she adjusted Bakugou’s body on her side with a grunt. “–to actually develop it properly. Damn it.”

“We should manage until we get to our next stop, but we will have to make it a race.” Asui looked around her, searching for the right path in the midst of the forestal havoc around them. “We will have to make Iida sprint to the village and tell the others to give us a hand. Yaoyorozu is our best hand to play here.”

Uraraka took a cautious step, shrugging his body closer– then another. She could manage. “This guy sure is heavy, but alright. I gotta… be strong, and push on.” this last bit was murmured more for herself, mentally lost in the middle of a clearing of confusion, worry and searing heat around them.

But Asui smiled anyway.

When Bakugou came to, he felt like wherever he was, it was the wrong place.

His fingertips scraped the soft thing underneath him, tilting his head a bit when he was met with a soft blanket, rough at the edges, but smooth all the same. His head was on something bland, and his neck, bandaged and kind of tight. It was stitchy. His arms felt sore as well, and his wrist was pained, swollen much probably.

His mind did the kind gesture of backtracking a bit, then heard noises out of the place he was in. He clenched his eyes close for a second as light started filtering it, hinges sounding, and steps trudged around him.

“Bakugou?”

The leader woke up with a start when he saw Asui staring at him right in the face, not more than a few inches away from his nose. “What the actual fuck, frog girl!”

“I was expecting you to remember my name or at least call me by it. Whatever.” the blonde boy supported himself on his elbows and looked at her go to a little table at the end of his brown, orange and white room. There were a lot of medical supplies there. “Try to rest. You weren’t easy to fix.”

His eyes trailed down his abdomen, but no bandages rested there. There was nothing in his arms, excepting his hands, and then he had one wrapped around his forehead, something heavy straped on it. Bakugou let out a big breath of exhaustion as the events from last–

“How long…” Asui came to remove the damp cloth from his head and nodded. “have I been here?”

“Two days.” answered the girl quickly, and dried the cloth on a nearby bucket. “Midnight did a number on you and Kaminari.”

–right, two days since that stupid witch, a spawn of the devil, came to play with him. He felt impossibly weak after being so beaten up, and undeniably  weak and stupid. He wondered: what would had he looked like, laying half dead on the ground at the mercy of such a powerful enemy like that woman? The ground had cracked evenly beneath his muscles, pain rippling inside his mind– and suddenly, he was no more. The aftermath was rough, but so was the fall.

“Ribbit! Don’t burn the mattress, Bakugou!” smoke was steaming from his hands, and Asui had to slap them off before he had no bed to sleep on.

He frowned and attempted to sit on the bed. When Asui tapped his shoulder, he extended his arm obediently, stil fuming over his defeat. “I just can’t believe that bitch got me so damn good…” Asui quietly damped his neck and shoulder on oilments, and looked over his arm with critical eye. “Damn that Jirou clan… They are no good news.”

The girl gave his neck a final squeeze and retreated back a little to squeeze the water out of the cloth on a bucket. “She was overpowered, there was no hope for us to win. All Uraraka and I could do was knock her around a little bit. Thank god she got tired of us quickly.”

Bakugou frowned when that damn sorcerer’s name came into the topic, and hissed with deep hatred. She sure must have had the time of her life laughing at his decaying corpse while she nuked that necromancer. “Of course you were able to play with her.” he didn’t know who he was exactly referring to, but he was getting pretty mad at the image of him laying and Uraraka standing and fighting. “Fucking sure you could.”

“Sheesh, calm down.” Asui stared at Bakugou shredding the blankets again. Such a waste of bed clothing. “It’s fine. You don’t need to be the one stomping on others’ heads all the time. Does it really make you that mad we were the ones who got her to escape?”

“I don’t fucking care you were able to get her out of our tails. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you girls doing something.” his grimace got so drunken in rage and regret that he had to close his eyes and seethe in silence. “But I can’t get over that damn midget–“

“Oh, so this is about Uraraka, even after all this time.”

The leader craned his head slowly to glare at the herbalist, who clearly didn’t give a fuck about his little grudges with her. “Don’t sass me either, you damn–“

“No, really. I can understand what you mean.” condoned Asui, a finger to her mouth. Judging by Bakugou’s surprised face, frown squished in wonder, she had all his attention. “We are all aware of what Uraraka is capable of doing. There will come a moment when she will surpass our own expectations, and she will step over us in power.”

“Yes, damn straight.” agreed he, slamming a fist on the ruined blankets with a snarl. “Finally, someone sees my point–“

“However,” of course, she had to ruin the little communication they had. “that doesn’t mean she is a menace to us. All this time, she has proven to us that she had a good heart in many ocassions. Do I have to remind you of how she still tries to talk to you despite your foul personality?”

Bakugou almost jumped out of the bed and knocked her to a better life, but decided against it because, after all, she was the one curing him. “I am a damn delight!” he slumped on the wall, arms crossed and pouted, nose wrinkled in distaste. “And it’s not like she is trying. She just doesn’t get the damn hint I don’t wanna be her friend, and if it was up to me, I’d fucking  have her head on a wall.”

“You still personally accepted into the guild, though.”

“When will you all stop rubbing that in my face!?” screamed he, but Asui still continued stirring some creams and treatments on a flask, herbs smashed on a little handkerchief. “Damn her, and fuck her cheeks, her staff, and her ass pity! I don’t need anything from her.”

“Stop sulking.” scolded the water sorcerer with a minimal scowl, disliking such childish displayal. “If you were an actual mature leader, you would have put this grudge of yours aside and looked at the situation with critical eye. I understand that you may not like her, but she has saved your ass many times now.”

“EXCU–“

“Listen,” she cut him off gently, like a little knife in fire cutting a solid cube of ice butter, her eyes soft and hands fidgeting beneath his eyes set aflame. “for starters, it was her who got up after a solid, killing blow and knocked Midnight out of the clearing. I was the one who ended up kicking her off, yes–“

“Again, it’s not like I don’t aknowledge her strength, but I don’t own her a–“

“–but she was the one who actually saved you” not Kaminari, not Asui, nobody else but him, and he could see that tint of insistance in the pharmacist’s eyes. “from probably getting necked off. When she saw you in such bad state, for some reason I can’t comprehend, she went berserk. Afterwards, she personally carried your ungrateful ass to the village, and helped me tend your severe wounds– wounds that, mind you, would have been worse if it weren’t for her.”

Such rush of information caught Bakugou off guard, and he actually flinched at the accusatory tone in Asui’s tired voice. Now that he noticed, she had bags under her eyes, her hair was unkempt, and her skin has several untreated wounds. Was Uraraka in such state as well? After saving his ass, after actually carrying him here, was she untreated and disarrayed like this snarky pharmacist was? The thought suddenly didn’t bode well with him, and something akin to shame panged at his heart. He swatted it away quickly though.

“Look, I know that you don’t like her, and you will probably never even be friends with her. Nobody is actually asking for such miracle.” Asui padded next to the leader, who glanced at her in thought. She had never seen so silent in her whole life. “But she doesn’t deserve this rage after going out of her way for you in these occassions. In the same way you think you don’t need to thank her, she doesn’t need to do anything for you – it’s not her obligation, it’s not necessary, but she still wants to help you out anyway.”

Out of the blue, his grudges were kept under the shadows and they just stopped nagging at him, stopped putting him on edge, and let him take control of the situation. It was true that the sorcerer was usually nice at him – well, apart from the times when she only went to him to pester and ask ridiculous questions, but that wasn’t the point. Uraraka was a threat, hell yes, she would always be one – but that didn’t really need to stay that way forever.

Up to now, all she had done was put his guild out of trouble when he was either too small or the situation was too big. She was undeniably powerful, had a strong will, and needed to bloom in so many ways. She was a sorcerer, a threat to humankind he needed to keep his eyes on– but things didn’t need to be that way. It was hard to stick to such beliefs, but now that he thought about it, it was more tiring to dislike her than just humor her.

He eyed Asui warily, giving up. He could try to be actively cooperative and stop taking steps back.

“And how am I supposed to be nice to her?”

The girl didn’t show any signs of relief or happiness, just nodded and flashed a little smile. “You could start by going to see her. She left a few hours ago, said something about studying, and scrambled off. Maybe thanking her would make her day a bit better after slaving herself for your sake.”

“Thanking her?” the concept seemed painfully foreign to him.

“Remember, Bakugou… she may one day tire of being nice to you. It may seem like a good riddance now, but trust me she is a keeper.” and he had been told about that a few times now. Kirishima and Kaminari had talked pretty well about her, and all he had done to condemn those opinions was accept her into the guild. He had felt like he had done enough with that, but it was seemingly too little of an action.

The blonde hunter sighed tiredly. In a way, her studying for their trainings, for his guild, after tending his wounds for being a wimp… it wasn’t really fair. He was a fair dude. He wanted justice in his guild. He could give her justice and try to make it all easier for them both– and his guild, remembered he with a grimace.

“Yeah, whatever. Just gonna get this over with so you guys stop giving me earfuls about her being a fucking miracle.” grunted an ugly breath of discontentment and dettached himself from the wall. “Can I walk, though?”

“Of course you can.” he sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasping the blankets with care. He would probably have to pay for those. “Your neck will feel sore for a while, and your wrist is kind of swollen too, but that should be gone in a day. For now, take it easy.”

Bakugou played a bit with both parts, twisting his wrist – it hurt – and craning his neck – that did, too, and he slammed a hand on it with a hiss. “Fine. Just give me some treatments so this nuisance is gone. Where is Uraraka at?”

“This is our room, but she didn’t want to be disturbed or disturb us, so she is taking an empty room for now.” seriously, who told her to be so goddamn nice? Bakugou growled a little. Was she trying to purposefully make him feel bad? He hadn’t given her a reason to do such things, just… “It’s the one at the end of the hallway, with the pot on its side. Try not to be too brash, alright? You just woke up.”

The leader brushed past her, fetched a simple shirt from the hanger by the door and hurried inside of it with enormous urges to get such mental burden out of the way. He had no time to deal with petty businesses like these: he needed to focus on RampAge, on the timeline, on saving it and saving his comrades. It seems like he would have to get Uraraka to feel like one to start with.

“I ain’t moody, frog-girl.” grunted he over his shoulder, biting back so many insults that, after some silent thinking, she didn’t deserve. “I’ll come back to get some painkillers. Pray for that brat’s safety.”

Asui was about to say something about it, but her voice died when the leader slammed the door close was left with heavy stride towards the damned door. He squinted and saw that the mentioned pot was red, giving him all kinds of bad vibes. Each step he took felt like a stab into his pride and all morals he had been building these years, like tearing a wall down brick by brick. She gave him that uneasy feeling of being defenseless in front of her straightforward attitude, how she was unaffected by his remarks.

He hat– no, he didn’t hate her. He didn’t want to kill her, either, he decided. She was worth keeping, but she didn’t need to make him feel bad about it. He hadn’t done anything to deserve such treatment. He didn’t owe her anything more than a simple thank you. He had already decided that she didn’t mean any evil by being so… like this, and all he could do was try to make it easier for her.

Bakugou just shut his critical part of his brain and acted as his fair heart wanted to. He couldn’t cut her off the picture anymore when she was so adamant on sticking by him. It annoyed him, yes, baceuase she felt like a liar, because he didn’t need it– but, apparently, his guild and him sometimes needed her. And for actually being there, she deserved the recognition. Even if she annoyed him.

Knocking on the door with obvious impatience, he have the pot a kick for the sake of keeping his personal tastes in check. He then knocked again, and again, but nobody answered. It came to him that the door was unlocked after a rather violent hit, and he opened it with uncanny precaution.

Bakugou groaned way too loud when he saw her slumped over the table, too many books and scrolls crowding the desk and her head tuked on her arms, on top of a book that seemed to be almost compeltely read– seems like exhaustion got the best of her and she had collapsed before reading the book and had, consequently, overworked herself to this extent.

Uraraka was too hard-working. It unnerved him for a reason, because she didn’t need to do this and instead she went on and did it. The world wouldn’t stop spinning if she took a rest after taking care of him, she didn’t need to make him see her worth so hard. Not like this after saving his ass. A small wave of new guilt came crashing on him, overwhelmed him for a second. The world faded, there was only her, books, bags on her eyes and wounds on her arms, blisters, burns.

She didn’t deserve this. The feeling overtook him before he whacked the chair she was on to silence his heart. “Yo, Uraraka, what the hell.”

The sorcerer didn’t even budge at his brash attempt, only snuggled deeper into her arms and mumbled something under her breath. The leader angrily kicked the table, which shook, but didn’t wake her at all. Talk about heavy sleepers. He gave her shoulder a little shake and silently seethed over how cold she was. Now that he thought about it, the room itself was abnormally cold.

“Damn it, Uraraka.” he tried to keep it in, but he never did good with unbehaving people. He slammed the table with his hand and made all materials quiver, including the sorcerer. “Fucking wake up already!”

Uraraka flung her head back with a start, almost hitting Bakugou on her side, and somehow resumed reading the book in front of her. “Sorry! Right, so, humankind tried to–“

He smacked her neck with a fist, angered at such careless attitude. “What in the world are you doing, Uraraka?”

The girl moaned and rubbed her neck with a pout, then yawned but stopped halfway, such gruff and hoarse voice so rich and vivid that she recognized it I a second too late. She turned her head to glance up at the livid leader, who had a hand on her chair. “Oh, Bakugou! It’s good to see you awake!”

The sorcerer blinked, some tears of sleepyness trailing down her cheeks, and yawned again. He grit his teeth and had this inhuman urge to close all her books and make her rest for a damn second. “What the fuck are you doing? Shouldn’t you be sleeping after being my nurse or something?”

He mentioned the issue so lightly that if she took it into consideration for more than a second, he didn’t notice. Uraraka turned to the books, then him. “Right! Well, I just had some spare time to finish off some books Yaoyorozu gave me, so I could go get some new volumes at the local library tomorrow, because you see, what I was given was kinda…”

She trailed off for a few seconds, holding Bakugou onto a line of broken dialogue, then she yawned and that was the last nail on the coffin for him. “I don’t give a fuck about it, go to sleep already. It won’t do any good for you to be limping around when we train.”

Bakugou then noticed that one of her hands was completely wrapped up in bandages, as was that very same arm. In fact, some medications laid around the room and he was starting to freak out over this woman. What kind of alien civilization educated her to be this crazy? All she was doing was straining herself. He didn’t give a fuck if she had a bad time while being rough on herself, he wouldn’t be crossing over that line anytime soon.

However, as much as he tried to stifle those thoughts, the excuse of this load of work being bad for the overall guild seemed kind of unfounded after all she had gone through because of him.  She didn’t really deserve that, but again, he couldn’t bring himself to care that much. Still, he gave her another shake when she started dozing off on him. “Oi, at least hold up until I leave the room.”

“Oh! You are… right.” the brunette rubbed her eyes awake and looked at him from lidded eyes, peeking. Exhaustion swam all around her, she had this nasty ability to transfix feelings so damn easily. “What did you need, though? There is no way you would come to check on me without a reason.”

One of his eyes actually twitched after what sounded like an accusation, but he didn’t verbally express it because… nah, it wasn’t worth it. “Just go to sleep already. It ain’t worth it anymore.”

“Are you–“

Bakugou got a handful of her hair and smashed her head – slowly, though, as to not break the books – on the table. “Yes, I am sure. Just rest for a while. That’s…”

That was the least she deserved.

“Hm?” she didn’t even make an effort to get up, and only looked at him as he turned around to leave her. Her eyes were closing on their own, submerging her into a field of flickering blackness and swimming, scattered mumbling. “What is it?”

“Tch.” Bakugou shook his head and went for the knob, and before he knew it, she was breathing evenly again. He turned to her again, and was proven right when her eyes were closed, mouth parted and chest rising and falling under his irritated glare.

His head snapped to a blob of reds on a chair in a corner of the room, and a part of him wanted to walk the extra mile and get that blanket and suffocate her so she wouldn’t feel the coldness of the room. After a minute of glaring daggers into the fabric, he gave it a rest and turned heel again. He had done enough already, no need to overdo it.

Yet, right before leaving, his eyes trailed over her slomped form and sighed, vexation finding itself into him again and he closed the door, softly, muttering something about this being useless, her being irritating… but he still decided that he would be giving her the message he had intended to.

She always made him feel so many contradictory emotions. He wanted to respect her and be nice, but she made it so very difficult by being so unbearably… hardworking, determined. He didn’t like admitting that Asui may have been right in most parts of her version.

Still, he didn’t care. Uraraka could go and sleep around all corners and cut herself an arm as long as she didn’t bother him. And this didn’t bother him.

Not a single bit.

Uraraka hadn’t rested. Against Bakugou’s ever so gentle orders, her head hadn’t found a drop of rest in the pages of this massive book of history. When her eyes fluttered open, about half an hour after Bakugou’s departure, a load of other volumes presented themselves in front of her eyes.

She glared pointedly at them, and frowned. It was a miracle she had managed to swallow so much information on a sole go after the battle with Midnight, or dealing with a Bakucorpse and the aftermath of it all. After being warned that she needed to train her abilities more to avoid situations like these in the future, she had gotten as many books from her bag and read as much as possible. The rest… it had rolled off casually, really.

In a moment, she had found herself wrapping a blanket around herself and padding to Midoriya’s dorm, which stood right in the other hallway of the little residence, and she had been given a clear response on the matter before she had even completed her request.

“No.”

Uraraka puffed her cheeks at Midoriya, who balanced himself on a chair. Lots of documents rested on his desk, unopened envelopes and maps, and she couldn’t help feeling like an intruder in his room. “Are you kidding me? Why not?”

“For starters, I don’t know why you want more books after Yaoyorozu gave a pretty reasonable amount of them. I don’t understand why you have decided to finish them off so quickly either.”

“Well, I just wanted to get things out of the way! After Midnight gave us such scare, I can’t go on without some kind of training. I can’t train with Bakugou having RampAge on the loose, not in ideal condtions anyway.” the leader shook his head with a bashful smile that made her hold her breath. “What’s so good about the situation anyway?”

“You and Bakugou are so alike sometimes… such a shame he will never see you in that way.” he sighed, but there was this kind smile he always had on despite being serious. This man was levelheaded and calm, smiling and kind. It reminded her of Todoroki in some ways, but Midoriya was clearly more outspoken than the other boy would ever be. “Still, I don’t want you go to overworking yourself any longer. You have other things to worry about.”

Uraraka crossed her arms, folding her hands on her elbows and tapping relentlessly. “I won’t overwork myself. It’s not like the situation doesn’t require some–“ she had him frowning straight away, so she had to instantly cover it up. “but still! I know it’s not healthy for me either! And it will hit the guild if I falter.”

Since she was lying a little bit, she even used Bakugou’s words for reference. Turns out she was using Bakugou’s methods and awful lot lately. Uraraka couldn’t make anything good out of it. “Please, Midoriya! I won’t overwork myself.”

“Can’t take the risk, Uraraka. You are also straining yourself too much by even being here so late in the night.”

“The sun just set.”

“Still.”

Both sighed in dejection, as they wouldn’t reach a meeting point anytime soon. Midoriya wanted his guild mates to rest idle and easy, Bakugou as well. Then existed Uraraka as an oppositing force that would do anything to fight and become a fearsome professional on her own. She had the will, she had the strength, why not let her stretch the gum a little more?

“Doesn’t matter, I guess.” breathed the girl in a whisper the other didn’t hear. “I will just go have a walk around the village or something. I don’t think I’ll be able to have a brink of sleep after all this.”

Uraraka bowed a little with a small smile, and turned swiftly to leave. Just as Midoriya’s chair scraped to meet the table again and focus on the matters at hand, Uraraka faltered in her step. “I don’t wish to be too inquisitive, but…”

Midoriya turns a little to regard her, his eyes interested on whatever business she is about to say. Again, this boy had this strange ability to make her feel warm and kind inside, always listening to her requests and cheering on her. Her mind was always at ease when she was with him, his words well intended and his attitude collected and nice. She now wondered why, somehow, she had ended hanging around Bakugou instead of him.

Fate was not on the same wavelength as her, for sure.

“Why is Bakugou so… perpetually on edge with you?” this seemed to startle him, and maybe this wasn’t the right mood in which to ask so Uraraka stumbled to explain. “I know this is a sudden thing to ask but… it’s weird to see two leaders be so distant from each other. Don’t mind me if I’m being a gossip and stuff but I just–“

“Please, Uraraka, it’s fine.” cuts he in, waving her worry off with this little shine of his eyes that was so sweet to her and endearing. “It’s an old story, no need to even mention it. He is just…” he measures his words, rolls them around his tongue and them lets them fall off in a trail of sad thoughts. There is senseless regret there, too. “let’s say he just doesn’t like me much for… reasons, personal reasons. We are working it through.”

“But–“

“It’s fine, Uraraka. For now, just focus on resting. Wander around a bit if that will help you sleep.” the girl had so many words inside of her to still say, but she forcefully swallowed them and gulped, a hand outstretched in shock. “There will be several fairs around town we will be attending soon, maybe you can check some out now!”

And she blinked– blinked because Midoriya had been so quick to raise the shield and silently kick her out before she said too much, asked too much. If there was something she knew right now was that this wasn’t her place, so she gave it all up and sighed, shrugging. “Yes, I will do that.”

Surprisingly enough, she didn’t sound edgy at all there was this scratchy knot in her throat from both exhaustion and the feeling of having this unbreakable wall in front of her that separated her from the nice leader, and having been so blunt about it seemed like lack of respect for him. In a bow of silence, the girl turned and left with a little nod of her head, leaving the leader to sort his business, which sure weren’t small.

She found herself slowly trailing down the stairs of the building, her red blanket trailing behind her with the swoosh of the night breeze. The weather wasn’t humid, wasn’t dry either, just lukewarm and pleasant. Still, probably due to her tiresome schedule, something was off about it. There was a mild disturbance in the air, something about her stride was too fast, and people around her minded their own business when they felt so far away from her.

Right before leaving the small building, she noticed that the main door had no knob to open it with. She turned to a maid hurrying around the lobby. “Excuse me, miss! Ex– excuse me?”

The blonde woman halted her frantic race to look at Uraraka, a basket of dirty clothes to wash on her arms. “Is there anything you need?”

“Well, I wonder how… I know this may sound stupid but,” she signaled at the door behind her with a thumb, smile bashful and the other hand clutching the blanket around her. She also realized her hat was gone. “how do you open the front door? Do I have to push it open? I feared it would–“

The maid arched an eyebrow at her after looking behind her shoulder. “Miss, I’m afraid there must be a mistake.”

She pointed at the door, and Uraraka was met with a silver knob shinning teasingly under the lights of the candle chandelier above them. Her breath staggered in her mouth, swirled and got heavy like lead, falling down her stomach and crushing any sense of tranquility inside of her. Her thoughts, her little antics and whatever spark in her doe eyes faded to black, and her jaw trembled, shivered and cackled against her upper teeth.

The maid wasn’t there anymore, only the feeling of being forcefully scraped out of the world and everything felt even odder than before, drearier, and all she could wonder was how the situation had gotten to this point. It had to be the timeline being messed up again – concluded she, gulping a big bubble of thick realization, eyes wide as saucers. The walls crumbled, the paintings fell and the maid disintegrated to flesh and bones, no more a woman, but a corpse.

This situation was… wrong. It was wrong in so many levels.

The sorcerer slowly touched the doorknob and finally released a load of relief when it didn’t bite her, or burnt her skin. She twisted it and she didn’t even bother looking behind her to watch the maid leave, just high tailed it out and closed the door behind her.

The small village was soaring to life, apparently. There was this small bonfire near her, at the center of the village, and some stands of warm food and little silly games were put around her zone. Her eyes drank from the orange flicker of the torches, ears tingling when she heard childish laughter – a few children came running near her, and she had to step away before they crushed her, all with a smile. The moon was high in the horizon, stars covered by some clouds, but it was beautiful in every way.

Her orbs roamed, her body idle, and when her eyes landed on a little tent, she snapped and her heart jumped. Some building away from hers stood a little purple tent, beady with crystals and lacking a door, just a curtain to let curious wanderers in. If she was insistent enough, a small quantity of incense could be noticeable.

Her feet made the way to the tent without the sorcerer really realizing it, and Uraraka found herself peeking from the curtain. Inside, there was only a little table, two candles lit with blue fires, and a deck of cards. The small breeze made her hair sway with the gentleness of its caress. She tucked a strand behind her ear before speaking out.

“Hello? Good night… I am–“

“Welcome, dear.”

Uraraka was near to smacking a hinge off the fabric tent when the woman made an appearance in a cloud of mist, her head cocked to a side after seeing the little girl so shaken. Darkness embraced her like a second skin, the lights wrapping around her clothes in a mysterious, whimsical aura of obiquity and deep intentions, covered by a veil. All Uraraka could make out of her was her infinite trail of black hair, impolite porcelain skin and a black dress. And the thought of the woman unconsciously hiding her identity only made Uraraka feel further away from this world, tucked safely on this very small tent where incense fleeted on a thick cloud of dense air, hard to pin down but still offputting.

“I’m glad you came.” again, it was like a golden thread of smooth silk touching her, that voice. It was enticing and pleasant to hear. “Not much people entrust their lives with oracles these days. Your eyes though… seem troubled.” she took a break before saying these words. “And exhausted.”

Uraraka tangled her fingers on the back of her head and rubbed, rubbed, because those eyes of hers were echoing so hard into hers, and the air was again, too thick. She couldn’t see them move, yet she could feel her as if she was an inch away from her. “Ah, well, I didn’t have much sleep tonight, miss. I was walking around here and saw this little place.”

“Tell me, young girl.” she reached out and lifted Uraraka’s chin up, and she didn’t put much of a fight. “What is it that troubles you?”

The sorcerer shuddered under her touch, and felt some kind of void when the woman busied her hands in shuffling the tarot cards. Whoever this oracle was, she had this power to draw information from her ever so easily. Her voice was soft and sweet like honey, but intentions and movements sharp like a razor blade. Still, the incense tingled around her, calming these feelings down.

“Well, I have been having these… weird dreams, nightmares. It can be any of both, really, but they follow the same theme, the same story.” Uraraka crossed her arms, trying to remember vivid images of it all. But all she could see now was a smiling girl, sunflowers in her hands and bloodstains on her dress. “I don’t know who it is about… I see it all as a spectator, as an omnipotent force who can do nothing but stare.”

“Dreams and nightmares, a classic.” the woman laid the deck on the table, and folded her arms beneath her chest. “If you are having these occurrences, it means that something is calling out for you. Tell me, could they be something akin to lost memories?”

“I… I don’t believe that to be the case.” despite that being the only likely scenario, Uraraka found herself ending up denying the possibility. “I never woke up with any sense of recollection, or bonds for that matter. The feelings fade from the memory fast, but they leave scars. I can feel it all,” she raised her shaking hand to the light of a candle, black swallowing her palm, and then closed it. No sense of completion got to her, so she mourned in silence. “but it’s all like a far away feeling… I get this inkling it all may have to do with my dreams.”

The woman had listened obediently and nodded, it was her turn to play her role now. “I see, I can understand the trouble. Do you wish to make them disappear?”

Uraraka recalled having heard names from people she knew in those wild sets of dreams, adding fuel to the fire. “I’d want to find out what they mean, and then get rid of them, if it’s possible.”

The woman chuckled, but it wasn’t an evil kind of laugh. “It is possible, dear.” her hands disappeared from the table, and Uraraka’s breath was again dancing inside her lungs, stuck, when she drew out an ivory knife, golden handle and black dots on the back. “I will need a droplet of your blood.”

She took the sharp knife with dainty hands, testing its weight, and Asui’s lessons suddenly came to mind. “Do you plan to create some kind of potion with it?”

“Not exactly.” the oracle hit the deck to even all the cards, and tapped it twice. “These cards shall tell what those dreams mean, for which I will need to identify you. Your blood is all I need.”

Used to specific information, accurate data and loads of nearby facts, somebody being this vague struck hard in her, and she found herself feeling wrong in this place. The smell of incense and tightness was squeezing her heart in a vicious clap, all swirling around her madly as she stood in the eye of the hurricane. It was wrong, but at the same time, what could she do in this situation?

The girl sighed, dedicated a last look at the oracle, and cut the back of her palm with the knife. Rich, crimson blood started flowing out of it steadily, and when the oracle pushed the deck near to her, Uraraka tightened her palm into a fist and a newborn drop fell on the deck. As soon as the blood touched the deck, it vanished into a little puff of burnt paper, leaving only two cards on the table.

“These two will tell you all information you need to know.” condemned the oracle, her eyes swirling around Uraraka’s– and god, she could feel everything in this room sharpening, making her feel light-headed, and somewhere along the way her recollection of even entering this place left her. “We will lift the first card, now.”

Her nails scraped the table, then flipped the card. Uraraka recognized it, and the view left her speechless for a second, a shadow setting behind her eyes as fear and horror soaked her whole.

“The Hanged Man.” spoke the oracle, solemnly. When the sorcerer didn’t even ask about it, she lifted an eyebrow at her. “No need to alarm. There are no cards that are directly negative, but since this affects your dreams, I reckon you should be paying more attention to them.”

“What…” her heart shrunk in her ribcage, eyes staring in disbelief at the glaring image. Her hand fisted the blanket around her. Uraraka only knew that the oracle’s voice had turned somewhat colder, only lukewarm, and heartfelt. “what is this supposed to mean?”

“A crossroad.” she took the card with two hands and showed it to the shivering girl. The image boomed inside the girl’s dampening mind, drunken in incense and high on clashing emotions that had her heart near an arrest. The fires lit up against the card. “A road that will have you make a decision. There will come a moment in your life when you will have to make a decision– an important one.”

“A… decision.” whispered Uraraka, her brow knit but trembling in confusion as danger thrived in a far away place from this, a very different time and very different circumstances. Her eyes drifted to a corner to not let this compelling sentence crush her, and the oracle nodded curtly. “What does this have to do with my dreams?”

“Your dreams are trying to guide you through your decision. They are posing different the options you may not see now, but you which you will see in the future. Someday, you will have to face a choice. And it may not make you happy, or others for that matter.” murmured the oracle, yet her voice blared in the other’s ears.

So she shifted her hands on her lap and let it all sink in slowly, letting the thread leisurely snap inside of her, letting bleakness and obscure colors sneak up on her. “I… see.”

The oracle checked on her for a second, then flipped the next and last card when Uraraka nodded at her to proceed. The view afterwards pleased Uraraka to an extent, but the feeling dimmed quickly when the oracle only stared deep in thought. When the oracle caught the sorcerer shifting her eyes between her and the cards, a long sigh escaped her lips and fanned the veil.

“The Hierophant.” judging by her solemn tone, that wasn’t good news. However, she was now avoiding Uraraka’s inquisitive irises, which were searching for clues in the oracle’s hidden expression. There was a ghost of a grimace in her voice. “It comes to affirm all I have been told to this very moment.”

Uraraka tiptoed around the topic carefully, and doubted about what to say next. She found her ground a solid minute later. “What… does it mean?”

“It means making a choice. A good, correct choice.” responded the oracle, her tone dripping with grieving and sheer disgrace. Despite this card being shinier and overall more positive than the last one, she was talking about it as if it was a pure curse. Her presence loomed over Uraraka as darkness peeked again. “It means stopping for a second, breathing and rethinking about which is the good choice.”

“As in, backtracking?”

“Kind of.” agreed she. The black haired oracle stared at the cards, now set on the table, then back at Uraraka. She let out a loud grunt after a while, and if the sorcerer could tell with perfect certainty, she would swear teeth were glistening underneath the veil. “You will be confronted with a very tough decision, which may be why your dreams exist in the first place– to guide you to the right decision.”

“But…” her eyes were shadowed by a sad frown and a slight descent of her plump lips, her face a ghost of the cheery girl she always was as a grim foreshadowing hovered over her head and settled over her shoulders, responsibility breaking her heart. “what is the right decision?”

“I’d say that’s up to you to decide. If the cards insist this much on this decision, it must be a very important one.” theorized the oracle, tracing the hem of the cards carefully. Uraraka nodded intently, her eyes flickering in intensity under the blanket of incense. “The cards seem to sense a relationship between your dreams and your future, so they are building up until the day this decision comes. Again, if the cards are so adamant on this… the world could very well be resting on your shoulders.”

Those last words shook her and it felt like a little knife brushing her skin, tender and slow, up and down, as it loomed around her for a surprise strike. Danger was always so close to her, showing its claws in oh, so many ways… yet, it would never present her with the reality that so many pointed at her. Everything… it all just looked like a dream, or a nightmare– she couldn’t decide, but it seemed like all she could do now was wait for time to come to her.

Not like it helped the situation, knowing that a responsibility she didn’t understand hung on her shoulders an unknown number of days, weeks or months away. It was all so ambigue and uncertain it left Uraraka wondering if she should believe all this woman was saying, but decided to stick to it as a burning pole, blistering her skin and bruising her but serving as a flashlight in the darkness.

“I… see. Then, they are important, huh?” the oracle nodded, and Uraraka tried to wrap her mind around this fact, because they were nothing but a hassle that didn’t seem to have anything to do with her life. They weren’t really making that of an impact on her yet: just a little girl, a village, then another. What did she of all people have to do with that? “I still can’t see the relation between them… but I guess they will come in time, right?”

The oracle was too busy to actually listen to Uraraka, but she nodded anyway. Her hands fetched for a little flask under the table. She made the transparent liquid dance a little inside the doe-shaped recipient to test its volume, then handed it to the girl with… haste? Her hands had trembled when Uraraka had brushed them, and the oracle had been quick to wave her off. “Now, if you truly desire to erase those dreams from your mind, you must leave and drink that potion.”

The girl got up with newfound excitement, eyeing the colorless fluid in the flask. It was as like creamy water on a legendary bottle, and it felt so exciting to both have such recipient and the possibility to get rid of those nasty dreams. If there ever came a point that she needed to choose in an important matter, all she needed to do was listen to her heart. There was nothing her heart didn’t know, right?

“Thank you very much, miss!” she vowed gently as she always did, a smile dancing on her now energetic step. “I hope we can meet someday!”

Before Uraraka could head out the curtains, the oracle offered her the fateful cards. “Take them, so you can remember this time. Save them as reference, they may save your life one day.”

The sorcerer blinked at the weird request, and didn’t miss the shiver on the stoic woman’s arm. She leaped to the table again and took both cards under the fire of blue, quiet lights, purple fabric covering them as a quiet deal was stuck. “I will take them then, if you may.”

The brunette put them inside one of her uniform’s pockets and waved at the oracle again, smiling brilliantly now that her problems seemed to be stepping down from their stages, little by little. Her mind was a pure clean slate of purity, no spikes or cracks of imperfection clouding her mind aside from the invisible floating loom of responsibility, but she would put it aside for now.

“Thanks, miss! I hope we will cross paths again!”

Uraraka saw the oracle wave at her from behind, and she pushed the curtain aside and stepped out, stopping once she was outside to look at the recipient and uncork it. Her feet were visible from inside the tent.

“I will take this now then, before going to sleep.” her head turned to look at the fair at the center of the village, which was starting to swarm with people. She shook her head with a smile of contentment, but inwardly disappointed at having missed the fair when it was mildly tolerable. There were too much people around for her, so she just decided to call it a day, finally, and looked down at the recipient, which gleamed to a torch’s fire.

Uraraka giddily brought the liquid to her lips, feeling the cold potion fall down her throat slowly, making its way to–

The second one drop made its way into her stomach, her whole body quivered and started stinging, shaking uncontrollably as an insufferable pain shot out from her head to all parts of her body, hurt and acid scratching her mind with fire claws, drawing blood from her brain and making it fall down her nose as Uraraka stumbled, and gripped one of the poles of the tent for support.

Her eyes filled with tears as her vision blurred and blood pooled on her arms. Within a blink and a pained, moaned cough, Uraraka’s knees buckled and she fell to the ground as blood still flowed out of her and started staining her cheeks and hairs. Her eyes were open, seeing the building where she slept so in her reach yet, as she outstretched her hands and tried to crawl back to the beaten track, her strength faltered and she gave up the fight.

Her eyes closed, and her body stayed limp in front of the tent for two seconds before the oracle came out of her little place. She shook her head at the being laying on her doorstep and squatted down to her side.

She rummaged through her pockets to find one of the cards she had given her, and stared at it before looking at the people of the village, too far away to notice the crime. The oracle took the card and stood up again, giving Uraraka’s motionless body a kick. It wouldn’t take much time before somebody found the body.

The flailed the card a little bit and frowned at the unconscious girl. “Destruction girl,” she spat right by her. “disaster sorcerer.”

A few minutes later, the tent was out of sight, as was the tarot card with the image of the Hierophant, burnt to ashes in front of Uraraka’s right hand.

“Lie her on the bed, now!”

Todoroki and Mina quickly laid the little unconscious girl on the bed as the others ran to the threshold, where Midoriya tried to keep them at bay. When Jack was denied the entrance, she frowned at the leader and banged the door frame with her trembling fist. “What the hell, let us in! What’s wrong with her?”

The knight sighed and trembled, stood and gulped to keep himself in check against the agitated crowd of people. Only a few members had been admitted into the room so Asui’s work wouldn’t be haltered, and it seemed like it would take them a little bit more than words to actually understand that. “We… don’t know. Mina came across her body a few minutes ago and we haven’t given Asui enough time to check her conditions. Please, go to bed and we will sort this out overnight.”

“Midoriya, you can’t be serious!” the leader looked at Iida patronizingly. As time moved forward and people started to jam-pack the corridors, the boy grew more and more irritated– and it was such a rare thing to see in the leader, a flash of vexation at the unfair situations.

Nobody knew what had happened, really. When Mina had seen a body laying on the now empty area, her first initiative had been to try and shake the body awake, thinking that it could be a drunk little girl taking a reckless nap– but then the hair, the smell of her skin and the color of her gloves, it all dawned on her, and she had let out a horrifyingly terrified shriek that had called Todoroki and Kirishima over, and they hastily carried the decaying corpse to the nearest room.

She could be dead for all they knew, and a chill ran down everybody’s spines when the possibility came into mind. Her body was so light, her gasps for air so sharp and frantic, and her hands would tremble now and then, and the loll of her head into a tragic angle of uncertainty that had everyone at the edge of their seats. The critical situation had left everyone in a state of loss and worry that was only going on crescendo as Midoriya blocked the door.

“Only us few will remain as to not collapse the infirmary, but we are sure it’s nothing severe.” and yes, this was a big fat lie, as nobody could really go that far and confirm such madness so soon. He heard busy chatter around him, which prompted the boy to grasp the knob to close the door. “We will inform you all of the situation next morning. For now, rest assured we will do as much as possible to sort this out.”

With that, everyone dropped their shoulders and Midoriya took that as his cue to close the door, and he lay on it with a bead of sweat running down his temple. Who had told him to go and confront the crowd had no idea of how nervous the boy grew with these situations.

“You look troubled, Midoriya.” commented Todoroki, sitting on a chair right next to Uraraka. One of his hands rested on the mattress, close to Uraraka’s in case she had a crisis. Asui sorted the potions with hurry behind him. “Do you think they will manage to rest with this situation in their hands?”

“The thing is, it’s not something they can meddle with now.” Kirishima helped Asui with the arrangements, searching for something the girl had requested as he spoke. “It depends on Asui to identify what the fuck happened to our little lady.”

Asui, for the first time in years, actually frowned at the redhead and took a little syringe from her bag. “Ribbit, don’t put more responsibility on my shoulders than what I have already.” she strode to her body and, after a few little touches on her forehead and checking her eyes from underneath her lashes, she took one of her hands. “She has a cut here.”

Mina checked on the torn skin with curious eyes, as did Midoriya who was next to her. “What a weird place to have a cut. It’s so…”

“Precise.” intervened the leader with a growl. “Could somebody have used her own blood against her?”

Asui was already extracting some blood from Uraraka’s forearm – all thanks to Todoroki who rolled up her sleeve – critically fast. Just as the crimson liquid started to flood the syringe, the girl frowned again. “No, the wound is not the issue here, nor is her own blood.”

Asui hurried to her table on a side of the room, and arranged a little bent paper on a disk. The girl pushed on the syringe and, as the first droplet fell, she knew something was wrong. The liquid climbed fast through the filter paper, to the point in which there was no blood remaining on the disk, it had all gone through the paper. The sorcerer gave it a little shake, nibbled on the wet edges, and threw it to the disk again.

“Hot blood.” announced Asui hastily, pressing her hands to Uraraka’s pulse. It was slow, but throbbed against the girl’s sensitive skin. “Her heart is having problems carrying it around her system, it’s thickening.”

Mina, having been around her lessons with Kirishima, was quick to identify the source of this problem. “Poison.”

The mutant nodded. “And whoever who poisoned her wanted her dead on the spot.” she coaxed the brunette’s mouth open gripping her jaw, and passed a gloved finger along her tongue. There was something slimy glued to it, cold. Asui had a faint clue of what this could be, but she wouldn’t be sure of what poison it was until she tested the substance.

The water sorcerer dipped her glove on a disk with water and saw the disk be infested with bubbles and oh, that very familiar purple hue. “A nitoria posion. Brash enough for a murderer.”

“You are joking, right?” Mina stepped to the table and gasped when the disk started melting on the edges. “Please, don’t tell me–!”

A loud moan of pain was heard across the room which had everyone getting up from their seats and chairs falling, as Uraraka’s body arched off the bed and her chest started panting with hurtful intakes of toxic air, her head trashing on the pillow while her head darted from side to side. Her brows were drawn to a painful knitted grimace.

Bakugou, who stood looking out the window, craned his head to look at the ruckus, and frowned wordlessly.

Asui, however, seemed by far less alarmed than her crew. “Nitoria poisons have antidotes, and as this was made to be apparently healthy and hard to notice, its effects are dimmed by the quantity of additives in it.” nobody understood a word of what she said excepting antidote and healthy, and their faces were mirrors of this fact. “I can cure her, no worries. In the meantime, restrain her from making too harsh movements. Convulsions are fairly normal at this stage of the intoxication.”

As easy as that, everyone but Bakugou cooperated on the operation, gripping her arms and legs to the bed no matter how much she trashed or crumbled under their steel grasp. The pharmacist was rushed by the alarmingly loud gasps of Uraraka, how her peers were struggling to hold her tight no matter how hard they bit on their lips, or how they muttered words of encouragement under Uraraka’s piercing little screams of pain– all under her unconscious, yet seemingly only slumber state.

“She’s regaining consciousness, Asui!” warned Mina, her irises starting to move too much in their sockets as something started racketing in that jumping mind of hers. “We need to find an antidote before she wakes up! The nitoria–“

“Yes, yes, I know!” exclaimed the other stressfully. If Uraraka reached consciousness before the poison was diluted in her bloodstream, it would devastate her mind beyond humankind’s imagination– additives as boosters for side effects, decreasing the degree of lethality yet reaching and branching through the sorcerer’s darkest corners of her mind. “I just need a second!”

Asui was sweating bullets by now, her hands trembling in the middle of the night to find a cure for this madness. Her fingers deftly worked through samples, substance that could render the poison useless in minimum time. She stroked fruits, mashed leaves with the help of Kirishima’s hardened fists. The convulsions on the dying body were fading away little by little, making the straining easier while Bakugou only listened and fisted his hands, stroking the fabric of his pants to bite in swears of stress.

Once the yellowish substance on Asui’s flask stopped bubbling, the girl let out a little squeal of hurry and charged the syringe with the cure. “Got it, ribbit!” she wasted no second on carrying her feet as fast as possible to the bed, swatting hands away to roll the sorcerer’s sleeves up and plump in the needle.

As the liquid entered Uraraka’s bloodstream, the convulsions died to only minor shudders and eventual twitches, which also disappeared within seconds and only left a sleeping, tired girl at its wake. Her hands limped, fingers heaving down, and her breath grew sturdy and regular under everyone’s pendant eyes. These very relieved members fell on the nearest source of support they could find.

Kirishima decided to limp on the floor and start chuckling to himself in success, and then laughed under his breath as heat flared on his face, heated from the rush of danger. He watched Asui crawl on the edge of Uraraka’s bed, right next to a sitting Todoroki. “You are a pure legend, Asui!”

As the herbalist tried her best to push her pulsations to a normal beat, breath heaving in and out of her lungs. The dual knight gave her shoulder a proud shake, the feeling evident on his smile as the herbalist nodded back, smiling in sheer happiness and relief. “Well done, Asui.”

“My god! That was a nerve-wrecking operation.” the pink archer eyed Uraraka, exhausted, and hoisted her whole weight on Midoriya’s back. “Will she be alright now?”

Still breathing heavily, trying to ride off the hurry and letting the strings of time go back to their place, she placed a hand on Uraraka’s moist forehead. “She may get a mild fever as her body tries to digest the poison, but other than that, she will survive.”

Everyone in the room let out a general breath of final allevation, giddy smiles directed at the tired doctor who only tried to recover from the rush. As a tranquil pace of united heartbeats and collective silence floated on the thinning air of midnight, a little question remained in between them.

“I’d suggest somebody keeps guard on our sick lady here.” Kirishima placed a hand on the girl’s forehead, and brushed off the sweat on his pants. “She’s soaked in sweat, and will probably need some aid if she wakes up.”

Midoriya’s first option to offer was Asui– of course, it was always her. The herbalist had always been a dependable person when days grew grim, when situations like these were critic and someone was needed to take the wheel other than the very able leaders, who were at a loss of what to do. This was a new member they were talking about– an important one at that. Having her fall under a illness and be left unattended would probably make this situation drag for longer than necessary. And that, right now, was a hazard where one could see it.

“I am not going to offer Asui for the job, and I hope no one dares to– because she is further than exhausted.” which was a point everyone agreed on. She had had to look after Kaminari, Uraraka and Bakugou in the same day, one of them actually twice, and rest off the exhaustion from the fight against Midnight. “And I know all of us are exhausted, but I–“

“I will take care of it.”

The small voice came from the window, where a very tense Bakugou stood and, when he felt all eyes on his ample back, he turned with a grimace on his jaw, teeth clenched.

“What the fuck’re you all gawking at?”

“You wanna…” his hands pointed at Uraraka, to which the fierce leader nodded softly, getting the point in the angriest version of a bashful pout. “take care of her?”

Asui and Midoriya blinked at the blonde, who was looking at a side of the room with his usual wall of unaffected emotions, controlled feelings and cautioned actions, all his blinks and heartbeats measured to a minimum so

they wouldn’t betray his true thoughts. He then glared at everyone in the room, including the panting corpse on the bed– actually, he practically glowered at her, because he always found himself either depending from her porcelain hands or saving her ass, and he despised that cycle.

He was more than bothered with this situation of owing something to her when he actually felt like he didn’t, so he needed to get it over with.

He felt Asui’s softened eyes on him, and then his eyes trailed to the other leader. “I owe this to her.”

“What do you–“

“She has been looking after me after the fight with that fucking necromancer, and I never had to tell her even twice to care the slightest bit about me. If anything, I gave her reasons to hate my guts.”

Bakugou strode to the center of the room and kicked a stool into place, slamming his ass on the wooden seat right before Uraraka. Kirishima smiled at his best friend with a gentle spark of pride in his eyes, seeing the brash boy he knew start tearing the walls of his grudges down little by little, and trying to show that he could be kind when the situation forced him to. And even when it wasn’t really that way.

“She’s strong for putting up with me and saving my life, more than once.” commented the blonde, staring at the girl’s closed lids absent-mindedly. “And this is my way of thanking her.”

Asui propped her head up to gape at the once stubborn, pain in the ass leader and only saw a close to caring leader, and it caused her to smile a little at him in the darkness of the room.        

“Little Nameless, this is something you must do for us.” assured a pink man by her. He didn’t squat – anymore, noted the little girl, as she had grown and she didn’t need those petty things anymore. They stood on the back of a room where a light breeze flew, sometimes toying with her cut strands. Light streamed down on her, sounds of people on their thrones waiting for her.

Chains sounded as well from within the tumult, which snapped her back into reality. “But papa, I don’t know that man!”

“Which is a miracle itself, considering what that man has done to our village with his knives and words.”

Shadows, shadows, creeping around the edges of her starlit eyes, galaxies dying on her heartstrung broken irises. Out of the edge of her mind, she was screaming to set these things back into rightness, but all she could do in such virginal state of ignorance was scream at the void like a fool, and feel something cracking at her fingertips. The whole world was swirling around her like a thunderwave, all spinning as voices mixed and chains clashed.

She was… so, so helpless. “Dad, why would you want me of all people to execute this order?”

The pink man did squat this time– probably to make her feel higher in the power scale, so she would feel mighty and confident enough to actually carry out this scarring task. “You are the only one who can do this, Nameless.” and she had heard this one time and another, plenty of times already. It was such a tiring charade. “You know this.”

“I…” she didn’t. “do.”

Because this power she had, it was all but normal. She herself was abnormal, kept as a treasure in her civilization but looked at as a monster from time to time, when the sun peaked in a corner of the sacred minds. Some would scream when her hands dig too deep into nature’s butter– others, they would let her be.

This time, they would not let her be, but encourage her to release the monster from the cage. “Then, go out there and face the court. You can do it, hon.”

The girl was given a little push, then taken steadily to the big room that was the court. The walls were crowded with staged seats, rampaging people pointing at the wonder girl as a man on the center of the room, staying on an ivory stage and tied with chains to a pole– he was screaming at a muffler on his mouth, then spitting on her from his silenced hell.

Her father stood near to her as the girl bunched the fabric on her shirt, nervousness crawling around her like the nasty monster she was. Words spiraled around her, something about her carrying out the right choice. Odd dots of pale colors– human colors, they splashed the room in bright diversity, yet she feared what this would do to the fragile bond between the races.

Her father tapped her shoulder, reality blurring around her as she tried to keep her thoughts at bay. This was like a band-aid, she knew, it was only a matter of tugging it off with enough force so it would hurt quick and short. Her hands were trembling when she rose her stretched fingers to the stranger, who screamed at her in pure agony.

“An…” Nameless panted, choked in disgust at what she was going to do, and withdrew her hand from the torture procedure. But, as sense of pride and duty flooded over her, she was able to call out the spell. Echo boomed from behind her, knocking some hats off their owners as she whispered the dreaded word. “Anihilation.”

Nameless twisted her hand with a pained grimace as the man twisted to her desire, his blood accordingly boiling and piercing his burning flesh as the humans on the room screeched at the display, hugging their families for dear life and hurrying out of the room along with some other people from her species, the smell of rotten skin and broken bones overwhelming her to a extent that the brunette gave into her knees, and fell to the ground in exhaustion.

“Good girl, Nameless…” he gripped her shoulder a bit stronger, her father, and ruffled her hair. She coughed a smile, nodding emotionlessly. “Good job.”

A blond, red-eyed boy watched from afar, eyes wide in terror as he stared at the broken girl with a shudder.

“Bakugou, Kacchan.”

The blonde leader snapped his head up with the gentle sound of Midoriya’s calling. He groaned in frustration as his head lolled back, and he let himself look a little bit vulnerable by scrubbing his eyes awake. He still played it off as if he hadn’t been dozing off. “What the hell, you scared the shit outta me.”

Midoriya, with an arm tucked around a big volume and a bashful smile on full display, rubbed his shoulder for some comfort and sat on the girl’s bed. “She’s still sleeping, huh?”

The green-haired knight removed an stray lock of hair off her reddened cheeks, his touch barely stronger than a caress. A small grow reverberated from deep within his chest. “Little witch here has been trashing around a little bit. She’s calmed down for now.”

“Well, if she’s getting better, that’s all that counts.” the boy realized the cloth around Uraraka’s forehead had been dampened, and Midoriya knew for a fact that nobody had come to switch guards yet that night. He smiled knowingly. “It’s good to see she’s in good hands.”

The knight gingerly took the cloth to cool if off, all while Bakugou stared at the girl’s closed eyes with a piercing glare of anger and frustration. “Better have her getting better soon so we can part, rather than me biting my own tail and being a dick to her. I am more responsible than that, bastard.”

Despite the insult, Midoriya chuckled from Asui’s medical table. The sloshing of the water was all that could be heard in the building, so late in the night. “Yeah, I know.” he turned his head a bit to watch Bakugou’s hunched position, and if he had to bet, he’d say he hadn’t gotten up from that chair ever since the last change. “Who was the last person who came to watch Uraraka?”

“Alien girl.” spat Bakugou, shifting on the chair to adopt a confident position: crossed arms, crossed legs, and his glare switching to the other leader. “And you ain’t gonna take the turn yet.”

“Shouldn’t you get up for a while and, I don’t know, sleep? If you don’t rest, you’ll miss the festivities tomorrow.” the hunter mentally swatted him away quickly, chuckling in denial while his bones ached for mercy. He was biting the insides of his cheeks for some comfort– the chair was uncomfortable, the situation worse and his body totally messed up. He hadn’t felt this mentally exhausted for a while. “Why take this business so far, Kacchan?”

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that again, loser.” moonlight filtered through the half closed curtains, bathing Bakugou in this light that was so enticingly perfect to fall asleep on the arms of the sick girl. He couldn’t lie: at the stage he was in, he could have fallen asleep on the mattress where she laid and not even think about later regrets. “I am her leader. And I owe this to her personally. I don’t really think none of you will take this serious other than me.”

“C’mon, that’s a blatant lie.”

Bakugou’s eyes burnt even brighter than before, his fangs gleaming. He would have gotten up if his legs were responsive enough– but they weren’t, and it was driving him up the fucking wall. This shitty girl was always troubling his daily life and he didn’t want to feel compromised with her, above all not in this way. He didn’t owe her anything, he had no reason to be there other than sheer responsibility.

“Don’t bark at me, it’s true.” Midoriya sighed, and turned to the leader to walk to them afterwards, his hands leaving the cloth on her forehead slowly. He stroked the blue fabric onto her forehead, eliciting a little groan from her. “You have never taken matters this far when it comes to any regular member, other than Kirishima.”

“She ain’t a regular member. Not in any way.”

“Not like you are trying to see her in any other way, Bakugou.”

This made the leader make an effort to stand up and go pound the living lights out of that nerd, but his knees buckled and he had to sit down again under Midoriya’s concerned gaze.

“I know what you are insinuating, and what everybody’s probably thinking, but I don’t give a fuck about her.” he forced his eyes on her, traced the curve of her little nose, and sighed grumpily. “Seriously, I don’t. But she has gone out of her way several times to actually care about me when I didn’t ask. I have said this before: I am thanking her for that.”

“But you still feel like you shouldn’t, right?” Bakugou glared at his peer from under his disarrayed spikes, night shadows crossing behind his eyes. It was silent warning. “Your voice is so strained, your back is probably aching. You don’t want to go through this, yet you are.”

The blonde allowed himself a sigh of tiredness, and blinked at him in unusual tranquility. Being so drained was doing unmerciful things on his mood, and it seems like Midoriya would take advantage of that until he snapped back into his aggressive old self. “I loathe feeling in debt for this bitch, because I shouldn’t. No one gave her the right to care about me, or put herself in danger. Now, I have to thank her, as a leader, and get her ass out of this trouble.”

“Is it really that? Just plain justice and the sake of being a leader?”

“Why am I talking about this with you of all people?”

“Because she has been like this for a whole day– more like two considering we are here past midnight.” his eyes found kindness in Uraraka’s relaxed figure, finally idle and breathing without coughs or heavy sweat. “You have tried to kill her, you have dismissed her– but you are here, Kac– Bakugou, watching after her. What changed from being a dick to her to now actively want to see her healthy?”

“For starters, my opinion about her remains unchanged at the root.” he was tired, he was letting Midoriya tug at the thread that got his thoughts stuck in a vicious cycle of autodestruction and doubt– but for a reason, he didn’t feel bad about it. Not a single bit. “I still think she is a threat, but it’s true she hasn’t moved against our currents yet, other than be stupid and overwork herself. Other than that, she can work in our favor, and even I can see that now.”

“So, you care about–“

“No.” snapped the blonde, red suns spiraling and changing under the pressure of this crashing tide. “I don’t think I can actively care about someone to this personal level. She benefits our guild, her being in good shape is good for the showdown against RampAge, and I owe to her. That’s all there is to it.”

“I still think you owe her much more than this, and that’s only for putting up with your remarks and stupidity when you feel like bullying her.” Midoriya would have been backed to a wall after such insult, but Bakugou was being silent, observing the girl with a clashing mixture of hatred and frustration. He was only listening to his companion unfocusedly, as he let all his petty feelings slowly sink in. “She has done nothing else but put up with your foul mood and actually fight you back. Really, she must be tired from resisting the urge to slap you on the face.”

“I don’t owe her any fucking thing in that regard.” snapped Bakugou, narrowing his eyes at the boy. “All she does is put me into trouble and try to be nice to me– I never asked for all that. She is attempting to–“

Midoriya bit on his knuckles as he stifled in a good earful on respect and kindness, something the leader could lack very often. “Stop seeing her kindness as a freaking attack, Kacchan. She just wants to be in this guild and be on good terms with you.”

“Stop it, it ain’t worth it to scream at me over this. Asui already has, in her way, and I am working on it. I am here, withstanding this hell so I don’t owe to her. I don’t owe her anything– I should never owe anything to a damn pest like her.” argued Bakugou, encasing himself in this bubble of hard ideals and a truth he couldn’t come to terms with, but it was there, in his hands. “I don’t wanna feel lied to anymore, I am working to fix this for the guild’s welfare.”

The anger in Midoriya’s eyes faded to a pale hue of surprise. “So, you want to try to trust her?”

Bakugou waited for a bit, rethinking his decisions with sharp eyes. Still, he had gone over it so many times already that the charade was getting tiring, and it was more worth it to actually try to be nice to her than find a reason to hate her after all she has done. She made his life so hard, sometimes.

He clutched the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart, where it ached worst. “I want to just get rid of this disgusting feeling of having to thank her for something I didn’t ask for. I wanna stop feeling this stupid, I shouldn’t even be here. She is a goddamn silly bitch who knows nothing else but trouble.”

The other boy blinked several times, staring at Bakugou’s tired shoulders and how his eyes would flicker ever so often at the girl in decreasing loathe, and more directed to worry for her wellbeing as a guild member he had acknowledged, someone he was starting to value as worth keeping. His hands could crawl their way out of his bruised heart, shadows casted on his lonely soul, but the rampage of thought and tranquility this girl had inflicted on him could be denied, but no longer ignored.

Midoriya could now understand why Uraraka shone so much. She was giving everyone an opportunity in the same one everyone was doing with her– and she never had a reason, either. She was embracing everyone’s threats, everyone’s glares, everyone’s doubts, and walking her way out of them with a loud parade. For that, he deserved the kind leader’s admiration, so a little smile was directed at her.

“I will taking my leave then, Kacchan. However,” he left the volume from before on her nightstand, gave it a pat of reassurance as he knew Uraraka would love seeing possibilities and barriers grow, and retreated to the door. His eyes shifted to the leaning leader, whose eyes were droopy and weaker than usual, but still held that passionate gaze into the devil’s eyes. It was so charming to see those fires dim for once, prompting these words. “you should know that she isn’t causing any trouble to you. She is the one willingly putting herself on danger’s way, receiving the throws, and getting into problems. That… shouldn’t affect you this much, Kacchan.”

And with that, Midoriya chuckled at Bakugou’s dumbstruck expression of ire and tiny realization, closing the door behind him while the other crashed his head on the mattress, right beside Uraraka’s twitching hand– because he was right, in a way, and it only dawned on him that his little slip may have made him look more sick and foolish than he already was.

He groaned into the blankets. “Fuuuuck.”

But he didn’t care. Not even a pinch.

“Nameless, there’s somebody I want you to meet!”

The brunette girl turned from the well, more like kicked a bit so she wouldn’t fall inside and then turned at Kirishima’s voice calling after her. His step was quick, his red falling spikes bouncing in his stride while a blur of blonde hairs and pale skin also neared her. It took her a little bit to recognize that face– that face, sharp at the edges and bland in anger at the center, drawn in red and all suddenly made sense.

“You…” the blonde boy stopped and gulped after her voice chirped in, but frowned regardless. “You are the golden boy from the river! What are you doing here?”

Kirishima slapped a hand on his shoulder and grinned again, showing her his shining pearly whites before the other boy slapped the hand away as soon as it touched him. “He jumped across the river and asked me to take him to the girl with magic hands!” the fact that he knew such fact about her had her gulping this time around. “So here we are!”

The girl with muddy eyes took a step back, taking her bucket of water to her chest. Once upon a time, she would have needed help to reach the well’s edge, but it had been so long since then. Her reflection shone on the water. “How… how do you know about my abilities?”

“My people gave me a description of someone they are looking for, from their nation, who was lost a long time ago. She was a… magician, as well.” explained the blonde boy, fixated on how her hands trembled around the bucket. “So I can recognize a magician when I see one. This.. town can do that, right? Magic, I mean.”

The redhead nodded hastily, and put his fists on his hips with pride. “Our race has vast knowledge about sorcery, right, Nameless?” she nodded curtly, eyeing her hands shortly. “That’s what differentiates us from you humans, we can do lots of stuff!”

While Kirishima boasted about the abilities of their race – a race they bitterly didn’t seem to belong to, at least physically speaking – the blonde newcomer took a step forward until he made the girl flinch, and outstretched a hand towards her without actually looking into her blown wide eyes.

“I saw you at the court a few days ago… and I knew I had seen your stupid face, a few months ago.” that made her stifle in a gasp of horror, as she had never wanted to be seen as such monster– but seeing how he was fighting back an excited grin, corners twitching, he was more than fine with her powers. “What’s your name?”

The girl left the bucket of water on the ground, and curled her fingers around her jersey for internal decision. The boy was… giving her his hand? Did he want her to take it or something? She was around twelve years old now, but she hadn’t been educated into these things. However, she remembered that her pink dad had done that stupid gesture sometimes, and she decided to give it a little shake.

“I don’t have a name. And if I do, I don’t remember it. I was born without it apparently, and never given one.” despite the inner tragedy and later irony of the situation, she smiled at him sweetly, eyes closed in bliss for making a new friend. “I go by Nameless. And he is Kirishima. My sister, Mina, is not around now, but she should make an appearance now. She has the regular looks for our species.”

The golden boy glanced around and was proven right about that. Everyone had pink skin, lighter hair, spotless black eyes with a golden ring, and high-pitched voices. Some of them had big claws on their hands, others didn’t. Looking at Nameless and Kirishima, it really looked like they were making leaps and twirls about developing camouflage strategies, as they could be mistaken by someone from his species without a doubt.

If he hadn’t seen her come from across the river, he would have thought she was a human, too.

“The name’s Katsuki.” replied the boy, grumpy as she gave his hand a shake. He reciprocated the gesture. “Please don’t blow me up.”

It took her a while, but she actually understood the little joke and giggled, her little fit then erupting into gross loud laughter. It had been a while since she did that.

It would as well be the last time, rain falling harder that day as blood bathed her knees, a figure looming above her and–

Uraraka’s back bounced off the bed with the start of a heart attack jumping from behind at her, claws sprouting from her brain and giving it another hard, lovingly scratch of welling tears that never fell, tension that never broke and images that never made sense, feelings and people that shouldn’t be there and, however, she felt heartless and boneless whenever she woke up.

The aftermath of these dreams, nightmares and all kinds of havoc left her scarred a little bit more violent the more time that passed– her breaths would grow more staggering, her hands would clutch her heart stronger and her eyes would dart more dizzily around the room. While the effects and emotions from the experience would wear off fast, faces and ideas sure didn’t.

The fact that she couldn’t see the face of that little girl monster clearly was so confusing as well for her, because she was probably the most important piece of the story. An innocent girl with a pure soul, yet terrifying sorcery used for ill intentions. Was this supposed to be a metaphor about her?

Also… why had, of all people, he been there with–

She heard heavy breathing near her, and when she was able to focus her sight on her surroundings, a mane of pale hair came into view, sleeping right by her stretched legs. His muscles, tense and tight, hair unkempt and light snoring vibrating in his ribcage. Her eyes almost fell out of their sockets when she realized who this was, thinking about pinching herself to wake up from this vision.

What was Bakugou… doing there? He was sitting on a chair, yet his whole body was leaning on the bed as his head rested nestled on his strong arms, probably already given up on her waking up. How long had he been there? And again, why was he, of all people, there with her? The first thing she thought was that he was probably taking advantage of his sleeping problems to take the night shift and watch her, but why would he accept taking it in the first place?

Her hand hesitated, hovered above his head until they took the monumental step of touching his hair– touching him, in a sense, and threaded his messy locks into place with a placid smile of tranquility. Her other hand wiped some sweat off her forehead as the moon gloriously washed over the dark room. While her fingers played with his hair and he slept calmly near her, brown eyes glanced out the window shortly.

There was ruckus outside – she thought, eyes aimlessly trying to see further from the bed – and she wanted to see more of it.

As to not wake her sleeping vigilant, Uraraka slowly shifted on the bed and placed her feet on the cold floor. Her toes relished at the feeling of the flashy temperature, because her body was overwhelmingly hot and she couldn’t wait to get a change of clothes. She didn’t even dare sniffing herself, she would sure be raking sweat.

As the sorcerer walked around the bed and brushed past Bakugou, she giggled a little to herself, but then concerned her eyes on the slumbering boy. Again, what business did he have with her? Why would he even bother come to check on her? It was sad to know somebody didn’t entertain your presence even while being on civil terms, and it irked her to think this way. Still, she had done enough already to make nice with him, the ball was on his court now.

Uraraka’s body was engulfed by the moonlight. Bells of consciousness rung the numbness to go away, and she was suddenly blinking openly to the moonlight that loomed over the big window of her room. The night stars were shy and sneaky compared to this big cheese, twinkling timidly as part-time companions of the white angel. A sweet feeling of a breeze escalating up her spine made her skin tingle in delight as some music blared from outside, fires going off as shows and fights occurred as part of the nighttime fair.

And Bakugou missed it… to watch after her? Her head craned a little to eye his sleeping form, frown knit in confusion. He disliked her – concluded Uraraka, looking at the moon and fair once again – he must have been pressured to stay.

It was then when Uraraka remembered what had gone down with the oracle, when she spotted the vacant space at the corner of the fair– she wanted to slap herself for being so naïve, illusional, for letting a stranger so shady like that woman trick her. She had been as foolish as to even tell her about her secrets, those hideous dreams and nightmares, when Todoroki had clearly advised her to be careful.

She cradled her face on her hands and rubbed, then rubbed some more. The feeling of weight on her pockets reminded her of the cards and the misty bottle, for which she rummaged. Her fingers came in contact with one of the cards, yet as much as she fiddled around, the other card was long lost. As she took the card of the Hanged Man out, to the moonlight’s shade, something strung wrong in her heart.

“Why this one… where is the other one?” she palmed her other pocket, and only felt the shape of the bottle, yet no other card was found. The hand holding the card trembled. “What in the world…”

“What are you doing up?”

Her hand hurried in a messy blur to keep the card inside her pockets, spinning to see Bakugou groggily making his way to her. Uraraka made quick work to hold the shield up and cross her arms, starting her usual defensive pose of unaffection towards the leader. Still, there was no hostility in her eyes, or in his for that matter. “I woke up and heard the music from the festival.”

“Then go to bed again, you still need the fucking rest.” grunted the leader, scrubbing his eyes again to wake up. “We gotta part soon and you aren’t helping.”

But the strained edge in his voice and the dryness of his throat gave one too many things away. “You aren’t in the best of shapes either, master.” mocked she with an arched eyebrow. At this, he growled with a sideways glare. Uraraka didn’t know why he got so angry at her for releasing the feelings he stirred on her– feelings of protection, shielding, holding her ground against this beast. “You can take the bed, I am not going to–“

Her legs unexpectedly gave up under her, but she swiftly grabbed for the frame of the window to hold her. Bakugou’s hands had flinched for this, and he had no fucking idea why when he had known she could take care of herself. Being tired had never been so infuriatingly difficult before. “You are going to sleep. If you don’t fucking take care of yourself there is no use in taking you with us.”

“I am another warrior from this guild, Bakugou.” attacked Uraraka with a frown of her own, facing him directly. “Why am I being scolded over doing an effort–“

“This ain’t a damn effort, it’s no more than a strain in your development.” he crossed his arms, his eyes glimmering beneath the moon’s cradle. His jaw was clenched, chin up, and he suddenly looked like he was going to say something, then kept it in for a little more. He shook his head. “You are constantly doing things that aren’t needed, and we– I don’t want none of it.”

The blonde had made it sound personal in a second and it worried her– so much that she actually asked.

“Is there… anything I may have done to upset you, Bakugou?”

A low growl scraped his throat and constricted his vocal strings painfully, his fists tight as he spoke ever so clearly and demanding, scary and resolute. “I don’t want anything from you, got it? I don’t need your protection, your business with being kind and the like– I don’t need it.”

The girl flinched under his sudden glower, but recovered from the blow hell fast. “What’s wrong with me taking care of you or actually looking after your protection?”

Uraraka asked it so patiently and kindly that his heart plummeted and left a soaring trace of hurt pride behind– and something dangerous, atrocity and violence, it all came in full force to his eyes as he turned to look at her, stepping close to her in a second. She shot up a little as well, their glares sparking bolts and daggers to each other while Bakugou jabbed her shoulder accusingly and she slapped his hands away from her.

She should have known that her kindness would backfire, and stepped back from it when she still had time, back at the campfire. But she had given in to her generalized personality and now this happened.

“I don’t wanna owe anything to you, got it? I don’t give a fuck about you, I don’t need you in my life, your magic or your goddamn glitter that chases me everywhere I go.” barked he, not observing how her posture suddenly softened and her eyes widened the tiniest way. Since only a few inches separated them, he really should have. “I don’t owe you anything– I have watched over your sick ass for more than enough, I have changed your cloth and haven’t complained! This is my way of saying thank you from before and–“

“You sure can mumble and mumble like Midoriya when you are riddled, Bakugou.” commented she with this shocked face he detested on her because she knew better– she always knew better and he was suddenly feeling lied to again when he didn’t want it.

“That’s not the damn point!” yelled he. His hands mindlessly searched for his sword on his waist. “Just stop being like this. Stop giving me unwanted attention, stop trying to protect me, I don’t need it.” Bakugou took a deep breath to calm himself down, too quick to anger when he was this tired, and sighed with exasperation. “I don’t want it.”

When she didn’t strike him with a quick comeback the very same moment he shut up and stopped spluttering so much bullshit, he dared to look at her. Those bubbling eyes of hers somehow remained unchanged, looking at him as if he hadn’t said anything, her skin still sweaty and her smell still gross– he loathed that about her. No matter how much shit he tried to throw at her to keep her away, she was resilient and either fought back or ignored the attack.

He needed her to stay away. He didn’t need her in his life, he didn’t need a terrorist in his life to taunt his sanity. Uraraka was stupid, careless, naïve, sarcastic and too sassy to his liking. And yet, she was there. And he didn’t want it.

After a little silence, she spoke up again. “Such a shame, Bakugou, that you feel this way.” he thought she would finally give in and leave him alone. “I sadly won’t let up, though.”

But she didn’t. When he focused on her again, her irises were shining under the moon’s gleam and her skin was clean, yet damp and ferverish. She herself was a damn illness he would never recover from, a maniac with the hands of a fairy that was supposed to be proving his inner fears rights and destroying the world– not there, alone with him and sticking to his thorny side.

The brunette stung his pride with a little smile of hers, that shaky one that held no emotion other than mockery for him. “Why can’t you understand? I know you don’t really give a damn about me– and not gonna lie, it sucks that the feeling is unilateral.” hell yes, she at least got that right. “Still, you are another of my peers, and I will watch after your protection. No matter how much you push me away…”

Her head turned to his, eyes closed in tranquility and spoke as this was a universal statement. He was speechless for the first time in his life, words stuck as moonlight bathed her. “… I will care about you, dumbass. Even if you want me not to. You gave me a place to belong, and for that, I will always be kind to you all. Even if you don’t deserve my kindness, I still owe it to you.”

The echo of her words oozed into his bloodstream– but it didn’t make his skin boil, his heart hammer with anger or anxiety for this situation. Instead, his whole body stood there, calmly, as her words sunk in deeper and deeper than a mermaid lost in the labyrinth that the sea was, swimming into the darker abyss that was his heart as his shouts, curses and violence were reduced to shock and utter silence. His eyebrows were knit in confusion, yet a line of heartbreaking realization and surprise was there– and it made Uraraka smile a bit higher.

“Why do you do… this?” his words literally fell off, low and whispered in almost fear for what stupidity she would come up with.

“Care doesn’t have an actual reason, it’s just a feeling.” answered Uraraka, eyes closed in peaceful contemplation. “You have protected me as well from Shinsou, defended me against the village. And even without all that, with given time, I would have grown to care about you a little, as I do now.”

“But I don’t, and I am sick of feeling like I owe the world to you when I didn’t–“

“Ask for it?” finished she for him, and he nodded with something alike to desperation crossing his irises, tranquil like a shooting star but fading away fast, like a broken light. “Nobody asks to be cared for, you just receive it. I can take care of myself, so I don’t mind if you, of all people, don’t give a crap. It’s not like I expected you to.”

She was saying it as if it was fine, but a part of him just knew it wasn’t fine. All she had done all along was protect his guild his peers, him from danger no matter how much it hurt her to do so. Then why had she been so preoccupied about him when he couldn’t do that for her, when all he had done had been ridiculous compared to her feats? Why, in the end, was he the one being affected by her feelings and not her by his lack of them?

It was wrong. She was wrong. She couldn’t care, it had to be a good joke or a big performance lie. He shouldn’t have to feel this– that throb of having done enough, yet feeling like there was much more to do. He didn’t like it, he hated it! Bakugou wanted to throw his heart out of the window or give it to her so she could just devour it and give it back ugly, but fixed.

She… was a sorcerer. It was fucking wrong for him to feel even debited towards her.

He… he couldn’t say it anymore. He couldn’t hate her after all she had done for him. And that’s why he hated her despite not really doing so– she had given him a reason not to hate her. She was giving him reasons not to hold back anymore… to embrace her. Uraraka had barged in, cared for him when no one asked, and pushed all his hatred back to pin him down and, suddenly, he wasn’t himself anymore.

He wasn’t full of hatred for her anymore. In its stead, there was this confusing set of annoying feelings, all contradictory and messy that he didn’t even want to touch, screaming his name in a tangled sea of names and tags he didn’t… he just couldn’t touch.

Bakugou stared at her a little moment. So, he didn’t.

That way, he didn’t care now.

Not that much.

“Guys, did you hear that?”

Jack had ran to a side of the road, whip in her hand as a menacing thunderstorm rumbled from high above, near a hill and by the river they were passing by. Uraraka stopped in her tracks to listen closely, but nothing could be heard aside from faraway thunder rolling at the end of the canyon. The guild was currently walking through a very narrow path encored on the rocky cliff, the river flowing deep below them in direction to the forests ahead, then the capital.

Mina stared a bit ahead as well, her eyes finding nothing else but the dark rocks of the cliffs in the night and the waters running crystal black under the moon’s blurry embrace, covered by the thick clouds of incoming storm. She shook her head and held her torch a bit higher. “I can’t see shit in the darkness, above all with the wind from up here. What did it sound like?”

Kaminari, who was at the head of the crew at the moment, stopped them all as he held his arm and sword. Even Bakugou stopped his match when he saw how serious the blonde had turned. “No, I heard that too. It came from a bit under us.”

Everyone peeked from the edge of the thin way, some squatting to not lose balance and topple over. Yaoyorozu shook her head, struggling to see anything else but some dry plants and bubbling water. “There are a few platforms of discontinued paths and the river. I can see some little hills as the canyon ends, but nothing suspicious.”

Bakugou lowered Kaminari’s arm, but knew better than to let his guard down. He let his axe out of his back and walked forward clutching it tightly. “Then, let’s going. A storm is coming and rain in the darkness ain’t pretty. Above all in the canyon.”

Everyone nodded in unison and took a few steps forward to hear the very same noise Jack had heard– except this time, it rung much clearer and louder than before, the screech reaching Uraraka’s ears so terrifyingly well, as if the monster was right–

A crash and a blow were heard and the walls that held the path clear started to crack, tremble, and a horrifying scream of agitation echoed across the whole canyon while a dark green monster with scales and claws started to surface from the depths of the river and crawled up the walls to the path, his eyes locking with Uraraka’s scared ones and letting out another piercing yell of territorial menace, his metal hands making the ground beneath the guild shake and start crumbling.

A panicked, petrified shaky intake of breath broke the confidence for a tranquil path, and Uraraka was suddenly frightened to death for this monster she couldn’t clearly see in the middle of the darkness– but the menace was there, its tail illuminated by the dim moonlight and she could feel him climbing closer, faster, his body making the canyon give in to its weight.

One of Asui’s feet gave in to the cracks, and she would have fallen down if Todoroki hadn’t caught her. “The path widens into an esplanade a few meters ahead where the canyon curves! We must hurry and take it down there, we can’t fight like this!”

Unable to find a better plan, the guild struggled to break from the shock and fear and ran forward through the path as it started giving up behind them and falling into the river. The river creature let out another screech and dived into the waters again, chasing them down while hitting the walls a little while beneath the canyon.

Once they reached the esplanade, Uraraka was ordered by Yaoyorozu to ensure a path out of it before the whole canyon gave up. The sorcerer nodded and pounded a crack of the canyon with her staff, spikes of rocks and solid minerals surfacing through the cracks on the path ahead and holding them in place. Still, the solution wasn’t permanent. “The path is a little fixer-upper, but this won’t last for long if whatever that is shakes it!”

Bakugou flung his war axe on his shoulder and immediately hissed after. His body hadn’t rested enough for a battle of this caliber, not after looking after Uraraka and having to part afterwards. He was tired, aching– but his mind was ready for any challenge like this, for he smirked. “Let’s take this little thing do–“

The beast surfaced again from the side of the big esplanade, making Mina and Midoriya leap backwards as the river monster blocked the way out of the portion of land, and swatted Uraraka’s work off to the river. As it crawled nearer to them, it let out another high pitched wail of anger as it frowned on them, its scales brightening after a flash of thunder and revealing a dragon with green scales, colossal tail and sharp claws, his teeth wet with blood and sweet water.

“It’s a legendary beast from the river!” screamed Midoriya into the night, to his comrades, as wind started howling them off the esplanade. “We can’t possibly kill it, all we must do is paralyze him before he moves too much!”

Even before the leader had finished his orders, Kaminari was completely involved in lightning and sparks as an uncanny smirk of pride wicked his skin. “Ah, then that’s sparky’s field of battle!”

He charged a handful of bolts into his palms, liting up the land around them before smashing the currents and sending it through the minerals of the canyon, running deep into the canyon through the cracks and zipping the monster that lay before them– but the monster never stopped shifting nearer to them. Uraraka took a hesitant step near to the edge of the cliff, and only stopped when the waters were heard too clearly.

“What the fuck is this thing!?” exclaimed Kaminari before charging his sword and adopting a fighting pose, breath heavy from the stamina consumption. “That thing is huge! How are we going to immobilize him with such fat weight?”

Uraraka would have done something about it if it hadn’t been for thunder clapping right beside her, the beast smashing his claw closer to her people and creating a crack across the esplanade. She let out a whimper of fright, yet stayed focused on the beast before them. She could have summoned a meteorite, called in a tsunami to wash the thing away, make the ground beneath him crack and fall, or warp him in a tornado of havoc and destruction.

Yet, she held herself in and charged up. The ground they shared was fragile, at the verge of destruction if the monster took another step as she could hear rocks fall to the river behind her, the surface giving in if the beast made it shake too much. And as everyone was being extra careful, she knew she wasn’t the only one aware of this limitation.

Todoroki wrapped his left side in flames and swung his arm straight at the beast from near Uraraka, flames shooting up and striking right on the beast’s eyes. While the monster shook at the violent blinding, Bakugou was able to charge at him with his axe and jump upwards, hunching and then spinning  to strike at the beast and slice a part of his skin. Blood dripped from the monster and it tried to slap the leader off, him unraveled from his attack and scraping the ground with his boots as he was pushed off.

Big stains of blood covered his naked chest, which he wiped clean as fangs relished on the thought of eating that huge motherfucker for dinner. Jack was next to him, swinging her whip around the beast’s neck and extending it so it would choke his grand, whole body, but the monster easily wiggled and broke her weapon, throwing her off with his claw.

Jack landed on her back dangerously near to the edge, but Uraraka had no space to focus on her, but pushed her away from there before running forward, rain starting to fall on her as she dodged members from her guild. Her staff crossed the thin air before a big jump, a seal appearing beneath her feat and shining before bigger thunder and lights flashed closely above, her form petite and high off the cliff as she had altered her gravity.

Then, lights and electricity came crashing on the creature as the girl dove through the air, driving the thunder right into the beast as she summoned her cast. “Divine Lighting Carriage!”

And the monster did shriek even higher from this as smoke radiated off his body, and his claws pierced the ground as Uraraka landed with scraping boots and her knees brushing the ground as she hissed, pushed away from the beast as well. She realized that the beast was poking holes too deep into the surface– claws digging into the solid rock like butter and creating fractures too deep into the canyon, and then, a big deaf sound beneath.

Half of the ground of the esplanade gave in and started crashing down into the river fast, the members that stayed at the last line started to fall down, crumble with the broken debris and precipitating themselves into the dark waters, meeting their soon to be demise. Mina stumbled and almost fell, but was able to grab onto the edge of the broken esplanade and quickly caught Uraraka when the sorcerer screamed and almost fell as well.

“Are you alright, sis?” her right hand was tightly clasped around Uraraka’s, yet her left one was slipping, and fast.

And the brunette, even in her state of agitation and unfathomable fear, could see this– she could see her hand so clearly. So many things were happening around her: the monster was still wailing at the guild, somebody had fallen into the river, and she could feel some more people struggling to hold onto the falling esplanade. She could see more rocks crumbling beneath her and crashing in the waters.

The portion to which Mina was holding onto would give up soon. And she would fall with Uraraka if the sorcerer didn’t do something about it. “Mina, let me go!”

“What?” wind made things difficult to be heard, but the archer still held her tight in the middle of the chaos. “No way I am–“

Another deaf crash vibrated nearby, and more rocks crashed. Sooner or later, Uraraka would fall into the river, meters and meters and meters of void fall pivoting her future tragedy. “Please, Mina! If you don’t let me fall, both of us will!”

“Uraraka,” one of her fingers slipped, and the pair was tugged a bit down. The sorcerer held her breath in, eyes widening. But Mina’s hold on her never lessened. “don’t be a pain!”

If she could, she would float the way up, but in this state of agitation and exhaustion from the run and the fight, there was no way she would be able to go up there again and stand straight. There was a loud gruff curse, a scream, and somebody else had fallen again. “Mina, you must trust me on this!”

This made the pink girl look under her, grimace at the pain this was supposing, and started pondering the thought. She was quick to shake it away. She would never let a comrade fall, not in her wildest dreams! If Uraraka fell down to the river, she would probably die from both the crash and the rocks that laid below them. Thunder clapped, rain started falling, wind howling in the middle of the thunderstorm, and Uraraka felt both of them giving up on their stone hold–

“Forgive me for this, Mina!”

Uraraka used her last resort to summon a little flame that burnt Mina’s hand scarcely, making the archer let go for a moment in deep pain– but then, Uraraka was falling down, her hands reaching out for her friend again as air was knocked out of her lungs, a scream of hers piercing through the storm as she fell down across the canyon, compassing the raindrops and nearer and nearer to the wild waters inching closer to her.

Suddenly, there was no feeling of ground anymore. Her stomach was sinking into her, her organs lurched as she desperately tried to hold onto something, anything in her way, not knowing where solid ground was but only aware of the music of crash and rumble, quake and death climbing up to her as her body only fell down faster and faster, away from the stars and moonlight she had once soared under.

In a second, her body splashed and there was nothing around her anymore. Silence surrounded her as rocks and debris crumbled into the water with deaf bursts of rock meeting ground, foam forming at her fingertips and strands as her body plummeted down, almost touching the deep ground before the current starts pulling her away– and she let herself be taken as the fall sunk into her and all pain and sudden notion of having stopped numbed her.

Consciousness and pain mixed, narrowing down to something sharp and full of grim colors she couldn’t see in the darkness, the only feeling that kept her alive actually trying to kill her. Water ran down her throat as she tried to breathe unconsciously, and all sensations crackled down to numbness and pain, all taking her down the trashing river.

Until, suddenly, something soft and nice enveloped her in the night, an insane cycle of destruction and agony stopping. Feet below the surface where it was darker, muskier and wetter, with a heartbeat where silence was all that bubbled around her again, and the warmth made her feel safe, like a child in a lost home of gray hues where a family once lived, where a child once lived.

And the last thought she had was... that is was so warm down there, in the dark, deep in muddy water, with him. It was so… nice. This place, she couldn’t feel scared here.

The image of a scattered young, blonde boy crossed her mind like s hooting star, crossed in between the strings of times and lost galaxies, fluttering out of space.

“Katsuki…”

[thebandcampdiaries]

Wav-Dr. & Bonnie Legion - Wav-Legion Millionaire

Wav-Dr. & Bonnie Legion are all about creating music with a very distinctive focus on creativity, passion and fantastic dynamics. What's really exciting about this release it's definitely the fact that it blurs the lines between a wide range of styles a musical genre. From hip-hop to electronic music, funk, and fusion, anything goes! This new album project actually stems from the collaboration between Wav-Dr. and Bonnie Legion. These two talented artists have many similarities, but they also come from different backgrounds. This means that they are able to share a wealth of different influences giving the music a personal vibe. If you take the time to listen to this record from back to front, you are definitely going to be able to pinpoint such a fantastically diverse range of musical influences from these talented performers. From Coldplay to Nirvana, Lady Gaga, Pink Floyd, and even Eminem and Lana Del Rey, these talented performers have developed a really strong musical vocabulary, and they have become really fluent in their own form of musical language! The pair’s most recent studio effort is an album titled “Wav-Legion Millionaire.” This release features 15 tracks, each blurring the lines between the different styles and different creative ideas stretching the concepts of this record two new astonishing heights.

1. Millionaire

This song is actually the perfect introduction to the album because it really sets the mood and guides the listener through the eclectic and kaleidoscopic flow of this particular release.

2. Beyond Expectations Feat. Billy Korg

This is the second track on the album, and there is already room for a collaborator. Fellow artist Billy Korg brings something special to the mix and it contributes to the diversity of the setlist as a whole. This song is particularly amazing when it comes to lush melodies and cool soundscapes adding more dynamic to the album.

3. Bahoo Feat. Psionic Tremors

Another track, another collaboration! This song has a more driven flow, with a specific focus on creating the right grooves and atmospheres.

4. Unwind Feat. Metropolis Music

As the title might suggest, this song is one of the most laid-back moments on the entire album. It is a collaboration with Metropolis Music, marking yet another opportunity to bring something completely unique to this release with every single track.

5. Another Day of Pretending

This song has got a cool combination of sound, with insane bass synths, blending in with dreamy acoustic guitars, and lush soul-inspired vocals.

6. The Other Side

This track makes me think of artists as diverse as Nine Inch Nails, as well as Flying Lotus, with a darker, almost industrial edge.

7. Holy Shit

This song begins with a dark, almost post-gothic synth-scape with a very east-Berlin vibe. I love the vocals, and the way they sound so intimate and direct. It almost makes me think of artists like Daughter or The XX, among others!

8. Push Through

This song focuses on carving beautiful sounds with guitars, bass, and percussion, giving the audience a combination of indie aesthetics and lush pop melodies.

9. Toes in the Sand

This is one of the most distinctive songs on this release. I love the percussion and I really enjoy the suspended chords, adding some textures, while the synth bass takes over along with the vocals. The lyrics border with hip-hop, giving this track a very interesting flow

10. Turbulence

This is a fun, happy, and catchy electronic-driven track with some amazing atmospheres and cool modulation effects! What else can I say? This is all about letting the song play and create the right mood.

11. Feel It

This song is a forward-thinking exploration of electro and neo-soul elements, with stunning melodies and great production aesthetics that truly highlight the punch and width of the production.

12. Outta Sight

This song is actually a really perfect example of what happens in music when everything is exactly at the level where it should be. The production? Impeccable and absolutely masterful. The artistic decisions, arrangements, and songwriting? World-class. This is a track that hits the mark in numerous ways, from the fat, modern and punchy tone of the recording, down to the artist’s distinctive vocal flair and unique personality. The sound has a refreshing modern twist to it, and the bass is fast, detailed and unique, adding more body and presence to this amazing song.

13. War Song Feat. Lucy

This is a song with a beautiful cinematic feel. It has a build-up in the introduction, and it really blooms into one of the most exciting songs on the entire release.

14. Rogue Wave

This track’s production is balanced, direct and forward-thinking, with a sound that feels refreshingly modern, yet organic and natural. I really love the fact that the melodies are very edgy, yet quite balance and accessible

15. Underground

Last, but certainly not least, this is an amazing curtain closer, bringing the record to full circle. The tempo is slower and drone-y, and it almost makes me think of shoegaze music!

The Other Side https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kevv9pYxbxI Beyond Expectations https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0opQpQYgXIM Bahoo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E7dJG-hTpPM Twitter Handles wav-Dr. @wav_Dr Bonnie Legion @BonnieLegion Wav-Legion @LegionWav Facebook https://www.facebook.com/wavlegion/ Official Website with Albums Singles Video Photos Reviews and more www.wav-legion.com

[ihaveneverbeengivenflowers]

Is there a way to swim against the tide of capitalism?

It’s been a good couple of years since I became a regular consumer of mangas. I've never been able to properly read online, because:

I completely lose my focus when using the computer to read anything longer than... 1 page, maybe? Smutty fanfics not included for reasons beyond my comprehension *cof cof* 

I got astigmatism, so bright screen lights make my sight blurried and my eyes get tired very easily. Besides, I work all day, practically every single fucking day, on the computer so I want to get my fucking ass out of it sometimes.

I can’t deny I’ve always been pretty attached to “physical experience” of holding the book in my hands, smelling the paper, finding it a place in the shelf after it’s finished... you know, turning each page, sometimes in a hurry to know what happens next, sometimes not wanting to turn it at all because I don’t want it to be over. Reading online just doesn’t give me the feeling.

Last but no least, I want to support my favorite authors and recognize the hard work of the editors, designers, translators and reviewers who brought my favorite titles to my country - which I suppose is not exactly an easy job to do, given its current background.

I live in a city that’s about an hour from the big capital São Paulo. It's not a small town at all, but at the same time there's a lot of things I can't find around here. Yet, there is a small newsstand that's like the gold standard in the city and others nearby when it comes to mangas and comic books. It's a familiar business, the owner is a very nice oldman and they simply have everything the nerds (me included) need. In case something isn't avaiable, they'd go after it for their clients. Once or twice a month I'd pass by to check on the new releases and buy my mangas.

However, a couple years ago a big editorial crisis begun to crawl under the surface. There’s always the ones who doubt it, but me, personally I believe. Despite of what the government says, the country is facing unbeliavable unemployment rates, our taxes are fucking absurd and I don’t feel like the situation is getting any better. The cost of living increases each day and the minimum wage simply doesn’t follow the pace.

A regular manga used to cost something around 3 USD (considering September 2019's cotation), but was gradualy adjusted for 5, 6... 8 USD. Is pretty well know that reading anything besides de holy bible is not a priority to most people here... but I really wonder how much of this statistic is due to simple lack of opportunity. If you weren’t born rich, you need to choose betwen literaly starving at the end of the month or spending with “superfluous” entertainment. The actual minimum wage is something around 240 USD. In other words, life is hard even for those who still hold a regular job.

This year a huge bookstore broke down and other smaller ones are just going the same way, so do printing companies and distributors. And well, it’s been about 2 years now that Amazon settled in here. And boy, I still don't know how the hell they get the prices so low sometimes... I mean, I have a clue, but that’s another story. (By the way, they recently released Prime here for like 1,97 USD... I heard that's definetely not the price in the USA)

So, since I don’t specially hold on to cravings related to starvation, I started buying my mangas there. After all, if I can get it for a better price, good... right? Well... it got me thinking about the voracity of the capitalism and its potential butterfly effect in our mere mortal daily lives, and in the lives of the ones next to us.

We can take that local newsstand for instance. It’s been pretty well succeeded so far. More than once I saw a bunch of people spending a real good amount of money in mangas, comic books and card games over there. They wouldn't absolutely be missing me, since past those days I’d never give away more than 50 bucks per month. But what if everyone did the same and decided to quit in favor of buying online? The newsstand would go bankrupt and the friendly people working there, people I know for their first names and who make their living from it, would be unemployed too. Because it seems to be impossible to stand against such a monster as Amazon.

I came to the conclusion that that's the worst part of it: the fucked up way capitalism works, a despictable system that requires everyone that’s part of it becomes selfish, be it by their own will or not, in order to protect their own interests and to take any possible advantage. And it seems the tides of capitalism fiercely pull everyone towards its centre, because if I still try to support my local businesses, I run outta my hard-earned money and can’t keep my bills on track.

And, even worse: even if I try to swim against it, my atempt of resistance would be pointless since I’d be the only one (or one of the few) doing that. Because this economical system is based on mass culture, it won’t make any difference if I’m the only one who’s still holding on to that old fashioned thing of riding my bike in a 7 miles round trip, step into the shop to search for the titles I want and come back home feeling like a very lucky bastard if I could find all of them.

So... if you read this far and expected an answer to the title’s question, I’m sorry to disappoint you... I don’t really have one, at least no yet. Hopefully I’ll get there anytime.

[redorblue]

Books 27-29/2017 - The Black Magician Trilogy by Trudi Canavan

If you have any kind of positive feelings for this book - stay away. I mean it. This was possibly - probably - the worst read of my life. The only reason I made it through all three of them was that I wanted to make an educated complaint and pick up everything I could of what is wrong with these books. And believe me, it’s a lot: not just quality-wise, it has a whole lot of other issues like misogyny, racism and internalized homophobia. I just finished the last part, and normally I let a book settle for a few days before I write about it, but I’m so mad about this, and I have been since I was a few chapters into the first part, that I can’t put this off.

I’m gonna put this under a cut because I don’t wanna spread my hate for this book farther than necessary where possibly underaged fans could see it, and because it’s gonna be looong. I have a lot to say.

First, let’s start with why it is simply not a good book. I have to add, I read a German translation that I picked up from the flea market (thank God I didn’t spend more money on this. I get why someone wanted to get rid of them now). I’m not used to reading in German, and there are bad translations, but there are also very good translations, and normally I get used to German a few chapters in. I guess in the end it happened here, too, so although the translator may be to blame, I really don’t believe so, because even if she screwed it up, there’s so many other things screaming that Trudi Canavan is a bad writer that I strongly tend to blame the author. Again, I may be wrong, and she may have improved, considering that this is her first published work - however that happened - and after all style is subjective and all that, but I really didn’t like the way this book was written. I don’t mean to be arrogant and play the high-and-mighty literary critic here, there’s lots of books that aren’t considered literature which I love, and many of those are YA books with some fantasy elements. So these books could have appealed to me. But apart from all the things that alternately made me mad, annoyed, and second-hand embarassed, the way this series is written just didn’t do anything for me. Not even the gay romance, which is normally a pretty sure-fire way to get me interested. Everything about these characters, their interactions and the story in general just felt so way beyond belief, so implausible, that it didn’t make me feel anything at all at best, and cringing away at worst. And to me, that’s just bad writing.

Let me elaborate on why I found so many things so implausible. First, the romances. The books cover around 2,5 years I think, which means that there would have been time to develop them properly, but most of them just went from either hating the other person or not knowing them at all, to all-out love in two or three weeks. And while that may happen in real life, you have to lay the groundwork for that in a book, drop some hints, have some reflections, show the audience where this is going, instead of just dropping it into their laps. It wasn’t a surprise who fell for whom because it’s all very predictable and cliché, but still, you can’t just do that and expect your readers to accept it and get emotionally invested (only it seems like you can?? Because there’s people who like this book and give it good reviews?? Dear God how...). Like, it was soo obvious that the main protagonist (Sonea) was going to pick the tall-dark-handsome mystery guy in the end, and that at first she was going to have a thing for this shiny Nice Guy^TM who was the first to ever pay her any attention, all while her childhood friend was pining away for her which of course she never noticed evva. This childhood friend thing I was still ready to overlook because it happened early when I was still optimistic that these books would get better, and because they at least had a relationship at some point - even though they hadn’t seen each other for years and he fell for her in about an hour. Sorry, but love on first sight is really not a thing for me. But yeah, okay. With the second guy, the Nice one, I was starting to get really impatient, because they had two short scenes together in which they barely talked, and all of a sudden they were kissing and talking about the future and she was thinking about waiting for him for four more years while he disappeared into his backwater village... I’m sorry girl, but didn’t you have a life, and dreams, and plans for the future?? Like those you talked about for the last book and a half so that even the dumbest reader would get sick of it? But hey, who needs a personality, or (female) agency, especially in your protagonist, when you can have so much love with this really dreamy guy? Not the author, I guess.

And then, there’s boyfriend No. 3, the one who makes it all the way into her heart in the end, but then he dies and she loses all her will to live. After hating him for two years, falling for him for three days and being with him for two weeks. Yeah, sounds romantic, and it gets even better when you consider the fact that she’s half is age. If you thought the first two guys were stereotypes, this is the one to rule them all. He has it all - tall, dark, mysterious, handsome, powerful, and I guess the author wanted him to have a soft and loving heart under his unapproachable shell, but she waaayyy overdid it. He’s not just gruff, he’s downright cruel, he’s a narcissist who believes he’s the only one who can be trusted with anything, he’s dismissive and arrogant and indifferent even toward those he calls his friends (until they die, but then it’s a bit late for that buddy) and just overall an awful person. Which really doesn’t make me inclined to care for his oh so terrible backstory. Yes it’s sad that you were a slave for a few years, kept for the magical energy your master could harvest from you, I get that, but it doesn’t give you the right to behave like an asshole and manipulate and emotionally abuse everyone around you. The author has him sacrifice himself in the end, which comes straight outta nowhere character-wise, so he ends up a glorified martyr and war hero with no one ever challenging him in any way, making him face up to his mistakes and the consequences they had for everyone’s lives. I’m sorry, but this is bad writing, this makes it look like he was right to treat everyone like shit. And, even worse, this is the guy who gets the girl and is presented like this oh so desirable man that he really is not. This isn’t supposed to sound sexist from my side, it’s just the way this relationship is presented. At some point the protagonist even says it exactly that way, when Nice Guy and Asshole have a fit of jealousy because of course she’s something to possess and have a pissing contest over. God I hate him, this whole relationship is so cringy, and I don’t even wanna get into the misogyny yet because it is not an isolated incident and I’m not done with him yet.

So he fails as a person, and also as a boyfriend, but even the one thing that he could do well because of all his power and forbidden knowledge - he fucks it up. The third book ends with an invasion of the magician guild’s city by some Bad Guys, and yes, he fights them then, but he knew that they were a danger for the last ten years or so, and he never told anybody although people were dying because of it, because of course he knows best and doesn’t need anybody to help him. So when the bad guys finally arrive the city is woefully unprepared because he told them all of two weeks ago, as part of his defense while he is being accused of practising black magic and having killed people - so the whole thing doesn’t look at all like an excuse, oh no, not coming from him who lied to them for like ten years. Don’t get me wrong, this guild is terrible and annoyingly obstinate in its own way, but I don’t blame them for not entirely believing him when he tells them after such a long time, as part of an excuse for committing pretty much the worst crime they can think of, and without offering any easily verifiable evidence. Good plan, yeah. You just managed to severely weaken the one force that has at least a tiny chance of fighting off the bad guys by dividing them and being too secretive to give them any proof, instead of having spent the last years preparing them for a war that you knew very well was at least a possibility. Amazing job.

So yeah, that’s the guy young girls reading these books are supposed to pine for. Great message. By comparison the two other romances in the books are better than this, but it hurts my fingers to write that because one is laden with orientalism and fetishization, and the other, while trying really hard to be progressive, falls into so many silently homophobic pitfalls, it’s pathetic. In both cases I’m pretty sure it’s not intentional, but when you’re a writer creating a whole new world and you want to include diverse ethnicities and sexual orientations - which in and of itself is laudable - you have to be careful how you write your LGBT+ and your characters of colour. There’s many harmful tropes out there, and I certainly don’t expect a book to avoid every single one out there, or claim to notice every problematic thing, but in this book it’s not an isolated incident, it’s simple ignorance and lazyness to do a bit of research about the harmful stereotypes you have inadvertently absorbed your whole life so as not to repeat them.

This kind of reflection clearly didn’t happen neither during the writing process nor during editing, so what we get is a mess. What we get is one relationship where the woman is described as looking like someone of Central Asian descent, with all the stereotypes commonly to be found in an Oriental tale written by a Western person. This woman never gets a backstory, she just kinda appears on the scene and the reader never really knows what she wants, only that she’s there to help out her white, male love interest in his time of need, before maliciously abusing his trust and disappearing into the woods again. We’re told that she’s good at fighting, but we never see her really doing it - the only one she ever really shares screentime with is her love interest with whom she has a whole lot of sex. Really, every scene either ends with them having sex, or her talking dirty to him, which makes it appear as if all that’s on her mind is sex! And ain’t that stereotypical of the mysterious, Oriental seductress who spends all of her time either spinning intrigues or plotting how to get the next innocent white boy into her clutches. So, overall, absolutely terrible romance, and I’m gonna come back to this because like sexism, this orientalism/racism is not an isolated incident either.

The other relationship lacking reflection that we get is the one between this gay magician from the very conservative country where the main story is set, and this also gay scholar from a slightly less conservative, but all the more patronizing culture. The book at least questions the first country’s stance on the issue, although it only does so through its gay characters, which severely restricts the validity of the point considering that none of the straight characters ever even thinks to reflect if this stance on homosexuality might be wrong. What I can’t forgive is that the narrative never once questions the stance of the slightly less conservative country, which treats its gays (only men, mind you, there’s never once mention of a gay woman) as lewd weirdos and outcasts and calls them “boys”. This is so bad. It’s one thing to present a culture that views gay men as not-quite-men - we all know it happens often enough - but if you write such a culture and you don’t want this to be the point you’re making, you have to criticize and contradict such a view through your narrative. Have them talk about it, have them think about it, I don’t care, just make it explicit that it’s wrong. And don’t be lazy and hide behind this excuse that the readers will get it through plot alone - you have to write it down somewhere so that casual readers won’t miss it. Otherwise you end up with something like this where this culture you wanted to present as so progressive and kind of a save haven ends up patronizing and emasculating your gay male characters, and this doesn’t subvert neither harmful tropes nor real-life views. Just like the fact that your gay characters hide their relationship until after the end of the books, and find nothing wrong with it because it’s just the culture they’re living in. This is a latent confirmation that it’s right that gay couples have to hide their relationship and don’t confront others with their being different, and again, if this is not what you wanted as a writer, make it explicit. And for God’s sake, include more than one kiss in three whole books between your gay couple, when the straight ones kiss all the time and even get explicit scenes. Because otherwise your oh-so-progressive gay couple is just two really close male friends who happened to kiss once. Better write a great platonic relationship then and leave the gay stuff to the people who actually know how to handle it and won’t turn it around on itself.

So, I think I’ve established that in my opinion, the romantic relationships are absolute rubbish. I would like to say that the platonic ones fare better, but honestly, they just don’t get enough screentime for me to say. It’s quite astonishing - in a book series with 1840 pages (in my paperback edition) there doesn’t seem to be any space for friendships or family bonds. We’re told that they exist, mind you, but I personally didn’t really understand why those two people are friends, what makes their friendship special, what characterizes it. Not even what characterizes the characters, for that matter, because even the way the main characters are fleshed out feels a bit half-assed, and don’t even get me started on the secondary characters. And with a bit of good will, I could ignore that fact if the plot was really great, but it’s not either, so I honestly don’t get what the author did with all that space. I can summarize what happens in each book with one sentence: The first is about Sonea hiding from the mages because they’re bad, then being scared of them because they’re bad, and then suddenly joining them because plot. In the second book, she’s bullied by her classmates, but doesn’t do anything about it on her own because oh no, she could hurt them, and doesn’t tell anyone who could do something about it either because plot. The third is about the great conspiracy with the war and all that and fares a bit better action-wise, but it’s still mainly Sonea following this guy of hers along because apparently he needs her, and I guess he does, but he still treats her like shit right until they have sex. So yeah, plenty of space for character development, but for some reason it just doesn’t happen.

To be fair, I guess Sonea developed a bit, considering that she’s not as scared of pretty much everything as she was in the beginning - although the number of times that “her blood froze in her veins” really made me dislike that phrase. Her childhood friend developed a bit in that he gained a higher position in the city’s underworld. And Mr. Tall-Dark-Mysterious (TDM, for future reference) opened up a bit about his oh-so-tragic past. But is that really character development? I guess if you squinted you could count it as that if these were some unimportant secondary characters, but these are the main protagonists and POVs! In almost 2000 pages there should be a bit more than that! And if that’s what the main characters get... There was this one character that I kinda liked, another POV but a secondary one, who was Sonea’s first mentor in the guild and some kind of father figure for her. That was the one relationship where I saw a bit of potential - until the second half of the second book, when TDM takes Sonea hostage (romantic, I know) and forbids her to ever speak to her former mentor again, which effectively ends their relationship for good. So no development there, either.

But for a character to develop, and especially for a relationship between two characters two develop, you first need exactly that: characters. And this book doesn’t have any. There’s very few things I could tell you about the POVs’ personality traits, and it’s mostly just stereotypes - Sonea’s a classic Mary Sue, TDM is... well, TDM, the mentor is fatherly and benevolent, the childhood friend is adventurous, and the gay magician represses his feelings for his friends. I’m not kidding, that’s basically it. The same goes for backstory - none of them seems to have parents, siblings or other relatives, except for Sonea who has an aunt and an uncle that she’s apparently close to, but who briefly show up on screen around three times and get mentioned three more. Everyone’s fathers just kinda disappeared into the void, and the mothers are all dead to make it a bit more tragic - another tired trope that is a bit beyond belief because how on earth did all those mothers get dead, and why doesn’t even one father seem to care for his offspring? There’s one exception, the mentor guy about whom we’re told that he cares for his son, but again, it’s just that - we’re told he does, because otherwise, from their interactions, we wouldn’t get it. And that doesn’t count. The same goes for all other aspects of backstory, which is typically limited to a handful of sentences except for when we’re supposed to care for TDM - he actually gets a handful of paragraphs. So generous. I normally prefer character-driven stories over plot-driven stories, so I don’t mind that much when there’s not an awful lot of plot if (!!!) the characters are well done and engaging. But they’re not, they’re basically walking paper stands, and that I can’t forgive.

So far I mainly talked about what makes this trilogy lazy writing. Now I’m gonna talk about what makes it not only bad, but really problematic. I already touched on homophobia, but due to the lack of real gay representation there’s not much more I can add to that, so I’ll focus on misogyny/sexism and on racism/orientalism. I’m not sure how established the latter concept is outside my academic circle, so here’s a good summary of what it means. Basically, orientalism refers to a binary worldview that presents the West as progressive, dynamic, and inherently superior to a backward, barbaric and static East that therefore has to be rescued and remodeled by the West. Of course there are other issues like racism and imperialism tied into it that also refer to other non-Western cultures and ethnicities, but orientalism transports a specific set of stereotypes about people and cultures from the Middle East and North Africa, typically Muslims. It’s hateful, it’s patronizing, it harms people, and it’s all to be found in these books. 

There’s two main examples of this. This fantasy world that the author describes includes two countries inhabited by people of colour: Lonmar, where the people are described as dark-skinned, and Sachaka, where they look like someone of Central Asian descent. First of all, there aren’t many characters from these countries that even get a bit of individuality - they’re mainly just there for background noise and never step outside the crowd (a stereotype that is also to be found in orientalism, specifically in the “Arab Street”). For Lonmar, there’s one named, recurring character who isn’t entirely to be trusted, but overall a decent guy - because, and here’s the problem, he has been socialized in white Kyralia (another thing typical of orientalism - the distinction between the “good”, Westernized muslims, and the “bad” oriental ones, easily distinguishable by dress and socialization). All the other (few) characters from Lonmar are not characters but crowds with not a single speck of individuality and one feature that unites them all: they’re all members of this really strict, intolerant religion specific to Lonmar that is so obviously modeled after - you guessed it - Islam. Or rather the monolithic, prejudiced version of Islam an uninformed Westerner might think of if they only consumed what was given to them by mainstream media and never talked to a Muslim person in their entire life. This religion locks up its female adherents, it punishes homosexuality with public execution, it talks a lot about the unbelievers and is generally intolerant, it doesn’t give a f* about individual wishes and desires, and - maybe worst of all - it’s canonically all based on a lie. On the imaginary ramblings of a madman who for some reason was able to trick people into believing in him and making him a prophet. I can’t begin to express how awful this is. With the homophobia I don’t believe it was intentional - but this is. This has to be. And I’m so, so mad at this woman for mocking the beliefs, the worldview and the very lives of 1,6 billion people on earth in such a an offhanded, cruel way.

And that’s not even the only example, oh no. There’s also Sachaka. Sachaka, happens to be the homecountry of the murderous lunatics who terrorize the city in the first two books and assault it in the third, and who all happen to be brown-skinned. There are a few more characters from this country who had the honour to receive a name, but the way they’re described is in no way less problematic than the Lonmars. The only character who’s not openly evil, is the deceitful nymphomaniac who serves as a love interest to the white childhood friend. I already mentioned how unbearably sexualized she is, which is terrible in and of its own, but takes on a whole other dimension in combination with her race. It’s another feature of orientalism to either present oriental women as sheepish victims of oppression waiting to be rescued, or as eroticized/fetishized succubus-like beings, beautiful and alluring and generally a (white) man’s slavering fantasy. And not only is the only woman and morally okay character from Sachaka presented in such a way, she also - surprisingly- doesn’t get not a single line of backstory. We don’t know what she does back home, who she is, why the hell she ended up in this white-hot mess of a story, what she wants... Nothing. She’s literally just there to seduce the white guy, help him get over the protagonist, and save his ass once before she betrays him and disappears again. A ripped-out page out of a playboy edition could fulfil every single purpose she has in the story, even the saving part. There, white guy gets attacked by one of the evil magicians, and she mainly buys him time to get away, although we’re told (ha!) that she’s a good fighter. Put the playboy page in evil guy’s face, wait until his sex-crazed oriental mind gets distracted, run away, problem solved.

Because of course he’s sex-crazed, he’s oriental, what did you expect? They’re all that way, men and women, sexual predators all over the board. In addition to being cruel, sadistic, conniving, good at killing but bad at healing and collaborating, power-hungry, scheming... And did I mention that they keep their slaves like cattle? Yeah, no idea what that reminds me of. Plus, as cunning as they are presented, they’re also really stupid. Before the invasion, the bad guys have been sending slaves to the magicians’ city for years to spy on them and find out whether they know how to use black magic or not (they don’t, except for TDM which is why he’s the only one who can kill them and has to go on this lonesome quest alone, isolated from everyone he ever cared about... You get the idea). This is so stupid. They do it for years, they send slave after slave with no result at all, when at the same time it’s a well-established fact that when magicians communicate with each other mentally, anyone can listen in! You can’t tell me that in all this time, no one ever mentioned black magic being forbidden! Because it’s not a secret anyone except for TDM even knows is necessary to keep, so no one knows that they can’t talk about it. This is another instance of the plot being unnecessary complicated and like a desperate attempt to create some artificial conflict that could have been solved within five minutes... But I’m digressing.

And it’s not only the evil mages who are presented in such a bad light; the few lines we get about the country (it’s a desert, by the way, just like Lonmar. Surprise) suggest that the rest is pretty much the same. Not as mad maybe, but just as power-hungry and conniving as the bad guys, and certainly not as civilized as the white countries around it. So it’s no surprise when the protagonist, no less, starts thinking about some White Man’s Burden kind of shit. The backstory is this: Some 500 years ago there was a war between Sachaka (bad) and Kyralia (good). Kyralia won and, when drawing back, operated on a scorched earth-policy, leaving behind a wasteland and turning their backs, for which the people from Sachaka still want revenge (500! years! later!) because that’s what orientals do when their honour is scratched. The protagonist reflects on that story and then honestly starts thinking about how Kyralia should have stayed in Sachaka, basically occupying it, in order to try and teach the backward Sachakans how to be civilized. This... is some seriously fucked-up shit. My dear author, not only is every single one of your big bad guys a person of colour, and not only is the description of their cultures and their characterization creaking under the weight of all your prejudice, but now you have your protagonist want to civilize them? Who are you, George Bush? Or some 19th-century missionary despairing under the terrible weight of his burden to make the barbaric indigenous half-apes wear silk hats? Whoever your soul was in the last go-round, let me tell you, you’re not making a point for the almighty Western civilization if you write crap like this.

Okay deep breaths. Last issue, sexism and misogyny. I feel like the author wanted these books to make a point about female agency and Strong Female Characters^TM, but as with gay representation she entirely missed the mark and instead wrote something that’s more detrimental to positive female representation than anything. I already mentioned in the relationship part how her boyfriend treat the protagonist as a possession to fight over and how she has apparently internalized and endorsed that view, and in the character part how the mothers were all killed off before the story even started in order to add some trauma to the characters’ backstories. This is lazy, it’s misogynistic in that it robs these women of everything that makes them human (mostly they’re not even named) for the sake of shock value, and then the narrative doesn’t even use what it bought so dearly and minimizes the effect the deaths of the mothers have on the characters, and thereby a mother’s contribution to her child’s development. It makes the mothers mere means to an end, and it doesn’t do the same to the fathers, which makes it deeply misogynist.

This misogyny is glaringly obvious in the off-stage deaths of two women: the mentor guy’s wife, and TDM’s first love. About the mentor guy’s wife, we know barely more than that she was the mentor guy’s wife, and that her name was Yilara. Mentor guy loved her, and had a son with her, and then she died of... something. Doesn’t matter what it was, really, because her only purpose in the story was to give mentor guy a sad past. And it can’t have been that sad, because he mentions her like twice, and their son doesn’t mention her at all. I don’t know how old he was when she died (see what I mean), so he might not remember, but considering that mentor guy claims he still loves her, he could think about her a bit more often and remember a bit more about her than her lying in her bed, softly smiling, like a saintly martyr. This is already bad, but the other case is infinitely worse. Naturally, it involves TDM. He got to know his first love while he was a slave in Sachaka as she belonged to the same evil guy he did. She was evil guy’s sex slave (this author has no imagination), and when evil guy found out she and TDM loved each other, he raped her to death. Poor her, you might think, what a terrible end to a terrible life. Well, that’s not what our dear protagonist thought. What she thought was, poor TDM, this is so sad for him, he had to suffer through so much. Him, him him, him. I don’t even want to call the slave girl (no name)’s death shock value or manpain any more, because this is on a totally different level. There’s this girl, probably a woman of colour, against whom a horrific, sexualized and clearly gendered form of violence was used repeatedly, and in the end to kill her no less, and all our also female protagonist can think of is how much her boyfriend must have suffered. She doesn’t spend a single thought on the girl. Not one. And neither does the narrative itself, this is all we ever hear about her. TDM had the hots for her, she was brutally murdered, he got sad, the end. It’s astonishing how often the sheer wrongness of these books leaves me speechless.

And there’s more. I’ve read a few times that this book has some Strong Female Characters^TM and generally does well on female representation. Well, no. I recently came across this amazing article about this particular brand of Strong Female Characters that comes to the conclusion that lots of allegedly strong women in media, typically tomboy-like women with “male” interests and skills and no meaningful relationships with other women, are nothing but empty tropes whose only function is to prop up the male protagonist who saves the day. This is exactly what happens here, with the male skill being magic/fighting. Not only is there an astonishing lack of female characters featuring exactly no diversity at all (except for the nymphomaniac of course), but they also don’t interact. There’s a few snippets of conversation here and there, but those are all influenced by social hierarchy and consist of barely more than small talk, and none of the women except Sonea get any depth at all. They get names and functions, if they’re lucky, but that’s it. And even Sonea, whose head we spend more time in than anyone else’s, is so consumed by his wishes every time a man comes along and expresses the slightest interest in her that it’s hard to spot a personality underneath. Like honestly, she looses the will to live, along with all of her plans and other relationships, because the guy she was in a relationship with for all of 2-3 weeks died. That’s so over the top, and so frustrating... I mean I get it, you loved him, love can be quick I guess, but that quick?? I get that you can’t turn to your girl-friends or your mother for support because oopsie daisy you don’t have any of those, but there’s some men who care about you, and not even in a sexual way, so come on.

And then there’s the ending. Oh how I love the ending. I mentioned that TDM dies in the end - the first good decision the author made, although I can’t shake the feeling that the protagonist’s role in the end is mainly to augment the impact his sacrifice has. Not only is he presented as a martyr and the ultimate hero of the story who gave all of his life energy to save the city from evil, conveniently never having to face up to all the wrong he’s done and the impact it had on the lives of those around him. His death also practically ends life for the protagonist with his death being her last POV scene. I guess some may find that romantic, but it seems as though her voice just disappears after he’s dead, never to be heard of again, and that robs her of all agency of personality. It’s as if she only has those things with him, while through his backstory we know that he had them without her. And I can’t shake the feeling that that’s because he’s male, and oh so dreamy. But that’s not the last we hear of him, oh no. Because after the last chapter, there’s an epilogue where we learn (from another person’s POV) that he left something of his behind. Namely his sperm, inside the protagonist, who’s pregnant with his child now. She mentions at some point that it’s too early for her to have a child, but now it happened, and we have no idea how she feels about that because this huge turning point in her life still isn’t told from her point of view to drive the point home that TDM’s death really meant the end of her. Again the narrative puts him over her although she’s the supposed protagonist of the story, which fits neatly into the Strong Female Character concept I mentioned earlier.

And it’s not only that, the story of how she got pregnant in the first place is incredibly sexist, too. Apparently there’s a way for both male and female magicians to avoid pregnancy. But the males are only taught how to do it per personal request because obviously it’s not a man’s responsibility whether he puts children in the world or not. The women get taught a bit more regularly, someone takes them aside to teach them when they begin to show interest in boys and the danger arises, but no one ever did that for Sonea because as far as the teachers knew, no one wanted to sleep with her. First of all, this is stupid because what if the teachers don’t notice in time or the sex just happens without a lot of courting before the actual act? And second of all... The message is basically that if no one likes you while you’re in school, or probably if you’re ugly, you are never going to have sex anyway, so you don’t need to be told how to avoid unwanted consequences. If you’re a woman, that is, for the men it’s different. This is so incredibly sexist. And in Sonea’s case this kind of thinking had the worst possible consequences: he thought she’d take care of it, and she thought he would, so now there’s a baby, and not even a father to match (bad as he would have been) and that is that. I’m yet undecided as to whether this sexist arrangement is just another carelessness from the side of the author, or a way to get the author what she wanted plot-wise because an ending to a romance novel needs to have a baby, no matter if it makes sense together with the rest of the story or not.

I could elaborate further on pretty much any point I made here, but I think I got the gist across, so fear not, I’m gonna stop (if anyone even made it to this point which I doubt). Writing up all of this made me so mad that I’m actually considering writing to the author to let her know what I think of this trilogy of hers. A bit more politely than this (maybe), but I feel like this is so problematic that I can’t just let it stand there without objecting to its messages in any way I can. After being done with this I have no doubt whatsoever that this was the most awful book I’ve ever read, and I dearly hope that it will keep this position for the rest of my life.