#The only characters I usually focus on are father and the delightful children

[aster-ghost]

please, would you share your thoughts on the dispossessed?? (this is externalmemorycomic's main blog btw)

Oh geez sorry this is so late. Life stuff.

Anyway I would be delighted to talk about The Dispossessed.

For starters it's maybe my favorite book ever? And it's the book that got me to finally truly read science fiction. I think Ursula LeGuinn was an amazing author.

Now for the actual story. I am completely and utterly fascinated my Annares. As a bit of a commie myself I think it's really interesting to see a fully collectivist society. I also appreciate that it is a flawed society. It shows that greed and xenophobia still exists and the complacency that the people have fallen into is extremely realistic in my opinion. They don't want to rock the boat even though their ancestors were the ultimate boat rockers. It really makes me think about our own world.

And Shevek. I love Shevek. I want no other person to introduce me to this world. His own biases and flaws are relatable and interesting. Him calling Urras Hell was so fascinating. His speech during the protest make me want to fight too. He's a perfectly imperfect human who doesn't even exist.

There's also so many little details Ursula LeGuinn specifically has as an author.

She likes to focus on one or two characters and explore a world through them.

She can actually write children which is rare.

She includes at least a few words of a conlang that I want to learn.

She goes into great detail about the vocabulary of Annares like how there is only one word for father while it can mean any man who took care of the child.

Lastly she included the most tender reunion between Shevek and Takver which is extra interesting because they're middle aged and usually romance only gets to be for hot young people.

So yeah I'm kind of a fan.

[residentsofhollowville]

Well, as I was asked very politely and have a tendency to cave to absolutely zero pressure, I will be posting the lore explanation for this little poem here, under a read more so those who have seen it don't have to read it again.

So, someone gave me the positively delightful idea of Cerise having other children prior to Anna, and I not only ran with it, but I created this creepy poem to help me keep track of all the dead kids. The “Hollow Way” pun is obvious, as is the lyrical switch from six to sick in the last line, so I’m mostly gonna focus on each of the couplets. 

The first little girl who “came down with a cold” was Cerise’s biological daughter, Joanna, who, like her father before her, inevitably became afflicted with the curse that plagues the Holloway family and died rather than becoming what her mother has. She was the only child whose death was inarguably not Cerise’s fault, and her death devastated her. A lot of Cerise’s character is centered around this poisonous ideal of motherhood that results in her treating her children as an extension of her ego, and while I initially thought that’d be better expressed if she didn’t have a birth daughter, it works a lot better if she lost a child and is now living vicariously through these foster kids.

Speaking of, the second boy, the one “fairest of face” was a perfect example of exactly that. His name was Jake, and he was kind and docile and pretty much exactly the kind of kid that Cerise thought she could mold into a perfect replacement for the kid she lost. Unfortunately, by this point, the Corruption already had its teeth in her, and she basically did to him what she did to Anna. Just like Anna, he tried to run. Unlike Anna, he didn’t succeed, and that’s how the second child died.

The third girl who was “sick in the heart” was, at the time, named Amanita but usually just called Ama. They are now known as Shrike Moonstone, and they are the only child besides Anna that lived. Unlike all the kids before them, Shrike caught wise to Cerise’s bullshit and turned it all back on her. He manipulated her, as much as any given twelve-year-old is capable of manipulating a person, and it almost worked out. Unfortunately, when her will is defied, Cerise tends to lash out, which is exactly what she did. She took his sight in the hopes it’d force him to stay with her. This did not work, and he not only managed to flee thanks to some help from the Web, but also placed that fun little stipulation on the town that keeps people from killing children. Sadly, Cerise is very good at finding loopholes. 

One of those loopholes led to the death of the fourth child, Xera, who, as the poem implies, “stood to the last”. Xera’s “adoption” was basically a kidnapping. According to Cerise, she was stubborn and willful and defiant, but according to anyone sane, she was trying to defend herself as best she could from a woman who was, by that point, a literal and figurative monster. She caught on to the poisoned food quickly and stopped eating it, but unlike Anna, she didn’t have any way to get out of her locked room and starved herself to death. She left a diary turned book of warning behind, hidden underneath the bed she died in.

The fifth child who was “sick in the head” is the little boy Marc murdered. His name was Bobby. After his parents got killed by a twister, Cerise took him in, supposedly out of the goodness of her heart. This was notably not true, and had he not already been marked by the Vast thanks to said twister, she probably would have wound up warping him into a Corruption avatar and forcing him to succeed her while she meddled with events from behind the scenes. Luckily, some years after that, a second twister barreled through, picked him up, and prompted his Becoming. Unluckily, Cerise basically lied through her teeth and managed to convince Marc he was a threat to the town, resulting in Marc killing him and facing the consequences that killing a child carries instead of her. Very, very much unfair on all counts. 

And the sixth child, of course, is Anna, standing tall and proud and far from fearless to face whatever comes.

Song of the Six

Six little children went to play

In the old house over on Hollow Way.

One little girl came down with a cold

Laid in her bed as the others grew old.

One little boy was fairest of face

Held close and hidden and quickly replaced.

One little girl was sick in the heart

Silent and sightless as all fell apart.  

One little girl, she stood to the last

At watch by the window until she had passed. 

One little boy was sick in the head

The soldier was blinded and shot him stone dead.

And one little girl stood tall and stood proud

And faced down the witch with her head yet unbowed.

Sick little children went away

From the old house over on Hollow Way.

[ravenpoefan]

What other knd headcannons do you have

I have a few headcanons of father:

•Father loves seeing plays. He enjoys the art of theater and attends almost every single one he can find.

•He adores classical music. Especially Chopin and Mozart.

• He can play the piano, although he doesn’t play it as much as he does the organ.

• He likes orchestras.

[alexandrite-dragoness]

P3 Gekkoukan!Strega AU: To the Principal's Office

Takes place in the summer of 2003!

This flashback is from my current work in progress Chapter 4 of my P3:HEX fanfic, but honestly I'm kind of proud of how it turned out and thought to share it on my Tumblr (as from what I'm predicting my chapter may not be done anytime soon by the end of the month >.< so yeah it's taking its sweet time).

Anyways so this is just some development/family moments between kid!Jin and papa!Ikutsuki, so hope you guys enjoy!~

Fandom: Persona 3 | Characters: Jin, Ikutsuki (Chidori mentioned) | Word Count: 2,290 | Relationships: Ikutsuki-Jin (father-son)

The phone rang on the table of Ikutsuki’s office, certainly getting the man’s attention as he was in the middle of some paperwork. It was a midsummer afternoon, and he has recently come back to doing some routines after having his break. The sunlight seeped through the cracked blinds to let some light in the room, with the visible dust particles floating through the air. It has been a quiet moment between him and his work since the ringing, but he was more than delighted to answer the call to see who was at the other line. He gave a welcoming introduction upon picking it up, hoping to see what he can do with this person calling him.

“This is the Chairman at Gekkoukan High, how may I help you today?” He started with a small grin formed on his face and a polite tone to ease into a conversation, before the smile dissipated into an almost concerned frown. He settled into his chair hesitantly to focus more on the other end before responding. “… Yes, this is his father speaking… uh huh…”

He continues listening in, his fingers wrapping around the coiled line connected from the bottom of the phone out of curiosity and nervousness. He isn’t usually the type to get calls like this regarding any of his children, but this certainly was the exception, as he got word what happened today at their school. At first it sounded to be casual, but within a few span of moments he grew slightly anguished over what he was hearing, suddenly having himself pushing forward from his chair out of mere shock.

“Is he…! I-Is he okay!? …. Uh huh! Yeah, ok… yeah, absolutely! I-I’ll uhh be there right away!” He got up from his seat to reach over to his jacket to put it on. During that process he held the phone between the side of his head and his shoulder, casually holding it momentarily to get his jacket over the shoulder before reaching for his other belongings.

“Yeah… give me uhm, yeah twenty– maybe thirty minutes? Ok… yeah, th-thank you, yes. I’ll see you then. Ok. Bye now!” He hangs up right after, adjusting the jacket on him and getting everything else together before getting the chance to head out of his office. He gave little time to the higher up of the staff to tell him what’s going on, only saying he’ll need the rest of the day for a ‘family emergency’.

He headed to another school where his kids attend, passing through the entrance hall to find the main office and meet the staff about the current situation. He kindly then knocked on the one door before hearing an answer to come in. He came in, darting around the room to see one of the school staff walking over to direct him to his son. The boy happened to be sitting on a chair, feet dangling in the air hanging his head low, avoiding any eye contact to anyone nearby. The staff fills Ikutsuki in on the matter, gesturing to the man to be seated before they go any further into discussion. That was when Ikutsuki saw the young boy sitting closeby, his eyes widened upon fright and sat next to him right away.

“Jin…!?”

The boy didn't make a sound. His eyes still averted from everything else in a look of irritation and despair. He had multiple bruises and scrapes all over him, a broken frame and lens from his glasses like the staff have explained indeed he was in a fight. There were some bandages around the arm and one bandaid on his cheek too. The man furrowed his brows while trying to find a way to ask what went down.

“What happened…? Did someone do this to you!?”

He asked in a sense of panic, but slowly reached over to touch his head in a way to show comfort and get a better look at the marks. The boy jerked away, however, not wanting to talk or associate with anyone at the moment. He can see the discomfort from the boy, it made him ache for explanation and having him wish he could do something about his son’s situation. In what possible way to help… The semi vacant office space was quiet for a while more with Ikutsuki trying to make eye contact with the boy and go for a way of talking about what he knew so far. “I made it over as fast as I could after they told me how you got in trouble with one of the other students. I need to know what exactly happened that started this feud in the first place. Won’t you mind telling me your side of the story, Jin?”

The boy however still didn’t say anything. He swung his legs under while remaining seated. As Ikutsuki would be patient to hear what he has to say, he could also say he doesn’t have all day. It had been somewhat difficult to communicate with the newly adopted children for a while now, but so far they all have shown great progress since he took them in. Jin, however, still remained stubborn to this day.

“Jin…” Ikutsuki reached for him again, giving a calm mature tone. “There are times where silence doesn’t do any good if one would refuse. In fact, it is a sign of disrespect when you don’t answer when being asked, but I’m sure that is in no way your intention…”

The grade schooler then looked farther down, like in realization of that as he didn’t mean to do that specifically. While it’s a faint reaction that he heard what he said, Ikutsuki continued on. “Look, I understand. Trying to get along with everyone within the school is no easy task. But you got to know how to deal with tough situations when they aren’t in your favor. Now I don’t know who started the fight, or if they were picking on you in the first place, or… but you got to realize there are better approaches to things like this. You understand where I’m coming from Jin?”

Ikutsuki even leaned forward to have a thorough conversation with his son, looking for any sign of acknowledgment that he was indeed listening or in fact understanding all of this. It was then, Jin spoke a few words while keeping his head low. “They were picking on Chidori…”

The father blinked in realization, opening his mouth to speak only to sigh it out in dismay. Well it’s no wonder, he thought. He was certain he caused the feud for a personal reason that upsetted the boy, but he had no clue it was because his sister was the victim all this time. This does indeed explain a lot.

“Jin…” He sighed out, palming his forehead in thought. “You didn’t actually start the fight… did you?”

The boy only wiped his nose with his arm, being mildly sore from one of the punches received earlier. “If I just stood there and did nothing, that'd just make me a bad brother. I knew no teachers were around either, and if I were to go look for someone things could've gone worse for her. I didn’t want to leave her, Shuji. I didn’t want to leave her fending for herself like that. There were, like, three of them a-and only one of her…!”

The man can already tell the distressed tone from his voice as he went to comfort him. “Oh no, it’s okay! It’s okay!”

He pulled him in for a partial hug, knowing their seating position, patting the boy’s head in comfort and shushing the boy soothingly. “I know you didn’t want to, and I’m thankful for that. You’re not a bad brother, Jin. I’m glad you stood up for her, truely…”

He could already tell miles away Jin would keep venting on like this if he let him do so, see him get emotional like this as to beat himself up if things didn’t go the right way for him. But at least he confessed. That’s what he was looking for. Have him feel comfortable enough to speak his thoughts without fearing there’ll be a punishment for showing distress or attitude in all of this. Being honest with himself. The man’s embrace at least calmed Jin’s thoughts a bit, having him breathe more easily instead of getting worked up on his frustration. He certainly isn’t used with close contact like this, but it was slowly something he was getting accustomed to since getting adopted by the Chairman himself.

The man then pulled away and made another pat on the boy’s head before giving a relieving smile. “You know, for a young man like you to jump into action like that, you do have a deep caring heart after all…” The boy looked up, giving a blank expression that gave a sign of confusion. Well, at least he didn’t look so anguished like he did before. While looking around to see anyone nearby, he just hoped they can get the small staff meeting over with so he can simply take him home. At least that he believed would happen, in all fairness the only other child that has been sent to the office before has usually been Takaya. But with him being in Junior High now, there haven't been much issues since.

And so, after the small exchange between him and the staff in the office about the situation that happened today, the two head out of the school building in silence. As he had given a proper farewell to the other adults upon their departure, Jin walked next to him holding the man’s hand in his usual quiet demeanor.

Upon walking down the stairs, the father then looked over with another small smile on his face. “Well I’m glad to hear that Chidori is doing alright after all. We’ll go pick her up from school after she finishes her class, that way we, including your brother, can go out for some supper together. My treat, hehe!”

Small joke aside, he looked down to study the son’s face to read any reaction from him. With nothing so far, he tried to brush it aside.

“That was the joke, you see. Humm, I guess you’re not so much into the mood aren’t you? Well, I can’t blame you there…” He muttered after that, figuring he may as well be talking to a wall after all.

He’s not genuinely upset by any means, but he didn’t want to have some awkward silence either between the two family members making their way to his vehicle. With that in mind, he did go backtracking on the story the staff have covered regarding the fight that took place at the school, and raised an eyebrow with a sly smile. “Now that I think about it; I feel I should mention this to you based on my experience, father-to-son moment here! You see, the one who would typically start the fight would be at fault in the majority of situations, whether the other person caused the problem in the first place or not. Whoever throws the first punch would be the guilty one, you see. But the only fierce way to end it is to, indeed, finish the fight to stop it altogether. Which I’d say is justified, and perhaps fair if I do say so myself. Hmm… you don’t perhaps have happened to finish with what you have started by any chance, have you?”

He looked down at the son, who then only tilted his head up when hearing his father asking this question to him. He didn’t say anything, but he swore he saw a slight smirk across Jin’s face. The father then exclaimed in excitement.

“Aha, that’s my boy! I knew you could– oh, shhh! Shhh shhh!” He then made a finger over his lips to shush his own behavior for his son.

“Don’t take my word for it! What you still did isn’t the most considerate of any situation at all… but I’m glad you were able to give them the finishing blow. Now they should know better than to mess with you or your sis, huh?”

“Yeah…!” The boy then hums with determination. Of course he knows better now than to pick fights with the other kids even if what they were doing is wrong, it would only cause more chaos with the school. Jin then thought to bring something up. “Hey Shuji?”

“Yes, Jin?” Despite the son not saying the parental name to him, Ikutsuki still responds happily and therefore was open to listen. He looked at the boy to see what he’d like to ask, as he seemed to show a sign of worry.

“… What will happen next year after I leave for junior high? Would Chidori be okay without me, all on her own?”

The father then gave an admiring hum, seeing the boy’s concern very well. “Oh I’m sure she’ll be just fine. In fact, I wouldn’t simply worry about it.”

He then stopped midtrack to kneel down right in front of Jin, adjusting the glasses for him while brushing his bangs aside. He made eye contact, as Jin managed to do one back given he is seeking for his full attention while giving an attentive gaze. He gave another nice parental comfort with the simple stroking of his son’s head while speaking gently to him, “I can tell from underneath all that frustration and vexed nature that you have a deeply kind and caring heart. Don’t lose that spirit that you have Jin; a simple act of kindness like yours will go a long way for you in life. I just know it.”

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part 23) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±5200 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 23: The Flagstaff Horsefair has turned out to be a huge success, but before they go home, an unexpected visitor changes everything. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Dean’s ride: Time Has No Mercy - The Common Linnets  Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74​​​, and @winchest09​​​ for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999​​​, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam​​​, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     The final day of the Flagstaff Horsefair 2008 is well on its way, the sun beating down on the market stalls and food trucks. Spectators mix with riders and trainers, some having drinks on the terras, others shopping at the tack and clothing stores. Giggling kids are chasing each other on the grass, the younger ones riding stick horses. Dean smiles at the children when they cross in front of him as he walks up towards the picture stand, slowing his step for a moment in order not to collide with the squealing youthful bunch. 

     By a van with ‘Equestrian Photo’ on the side, he pauses, then moves under the awning. The saleswoman gives out a printed photo to waiting clients on the side, wishing them a good day before she directs her attention to Dean. She greets him with a kind smile which the cowboy returns. Linda knows he doesn’t need help finding the images taken during this event, it’s not the first time the horse trainer has visited the photo stand over the years. Quite a few of the photos hanging on the walls in the Singer’s home and the cafeteria were made by Linda’s boss, the photographer who regularly works horse shows in the region. Ellen usually buys at least one when either he or Jo got on the podium. Dean isn’t interested in purchasing a photo of one of his own rides, though.

     He looks up when the red-haired photographer stumbles into the van from the back entrance, one Nikon hanging from a sling, dangling on her hip, and another one on a monopod with a huge zoom lens attached to it resting against her shoulder. Her curls are wild and it’s clear she’s in a hurry, the next class about to start already.      “Hi, Dean,” she greets, recognizing the familiar horseman instantly.      “Hey.” He nods at her with a smile, his eyes flicking back to the screen. “How’s it going?”      “Good. Busy,” she returns, taking out the battery of the cameras skillfully and swapping them for fully charged ones. “But busy is good these days, ain’t it? You had a few good runs, didn’t ya?”      “Can’t complain,” he admits, grinning as he thinks about how successful this event has been so far.      “Your student gave quite the performance last night,” the photographer smirks, handing Linda the memory card and taking back empty Sandisks to replace them with. 

     Dean looks up at her over the screen, noticing the mischief in her eyes. The way she just emphasized the word ‘student’ tells him that she knows exactly what’s up. He raises his eyebrows and chuckles, flustered. Looks like just about everyone in the business is up to speed at this point.

     “Check out the ones at the bottom of the folder. You can thank me later,” the redhead advises, grabbing a chocolate bar and a bottle of water from the small fridge under the counter before she heads for the back door again. “Gotta run!”

     Somewhat confused, Dean watches her head off to the main arena, before he redirects his attention to the display in front of him again. Stills of last night’s highlights pass by, allowing him to relive the amazing moments. The shots of the actual run are great, although he can imagine that Y/N and Meadow aren’t the most difficult pair to shoot. The Quarter mare is very photogenic with her copper coat and broad white blaze. She’s elegant, much like her rider, who has a fantastic seat, which shows, even on a still image. 

     Curious what the capturer of these images means, the cowboy goes down further, reaching a series of photos that show the seconds right after Y/N finished her freestyle, her arms wrapped around her horse’s neck, hugging her tight. He makes a mental note to pick that one. 

     There are more of her coming towards the entrance, waving at the crowd, but it’s the next couple of shots that has his jaw fall slack. The photographer must have sprinted to the other side of the tunnel before the horse and rider left the ring, because she managed to document the exact moment when he and his girlfriend embraced, Y/N still in the saddle, his arm around her, the emotional release evident. Jo is holding on to Meadow’s reins on the other side, smiling as she watches her friend and her cousin.

     The next photo shows just the two of them, standing in the gateway facing the arena while waiting for the score, followed by a shot of him lifting her off the ground when the realization of the new PR settled in. The final picture has to be his favorite. It’s one of the kiss they shared. The composition of the portrait is astonishing, the spotlights on the showground illuminating the figures in the center, silhouettes against the vibrant arena. His heart grows, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never thought he would be able to experience what he felt at that moment again, the great magnitude of pride, joy, and love. But this photo brings it all back, and he has to have it.

     Still smiling at the warm feeling that has settled in his entire body, Dean scribbles down the file numbers on the order form and hands it to the blonde saleswoman, together with a fifty-dollar-bill. The wrangler bought six in total, one to frame and decorate the wall in the cafeteria, four for his girlfriend. The chosen photos are shots of horse and rider in a sliding stop, of the second right after finishing the test when Y/N threw her arms around Meadow’s neck, and of the precious embrace between him and his girl. He got a double print of the kiss they shared, one for her, one for him. 

     It’s a picture that he will cherish, come whatever. A picture he wants to be able to look at when he needs to, to remind himself of what he has got going for him. He knows challenging times are coming, with the ranch, with their relationship. Dean is well aware he’s approaching that inevitable turning point when he has to open up further than the lost boy with a dark past is comfortable with. But this photo, a moment forever frozen in time, will be the beacon he needs to find his way home. 

     Dean takes the envelope with the printed pictures from Linda and heads towards the ring. Jo is due to enter the arena in ten minutes and he wouldn’t want to miss it, for one, because she is going to bust his ass if he’s not there. It sometimes baffles him how his little cousin acts like she can’t stand being around him and yet searches for his approval so often. 

     He takes out the photo he wants to save for himself together with the one he will add to the cafeteria’s Wall of Fame, and slips them in the inner pocket of his denim jacket before he reaches the foot of the bleachers. With big strides, he conquers the steps, looking left and right in search of his friends once he has made it to the top. He spots Benny and Y/N on one of the higher rows when the farrier lifts his hat off his head and whistles. This barrel race is one of the highlights of the event and the arena is almost filled to full capacity, only a few seats left. Thankfully, his girlfriend saved him a spot.

     His smile grows wider when he sees the cowgirl, and deep inside he’s excited to give her the present he just purchased. He can’t wait to witness her reaction.      “I got you somethin’,” Dean announces.      Intrigued, Y/N pulls her focus away from the competitor currently in the ring and looks at her boyfriend, awaiting. He offers her the envelope, placing his now empty hands on his knees, somewhat nervously.      “What’s this?” she wonders, her curiosity peaked.      “Open it,” the cowboy urges.      She does, carefully folding back the seal flap and taking out the prints. When she turns them over, she lets out a stunned gasp, much to her boyfriend’s delight.      “These are amazing!” she says, elated, going through the pictures of her and Meadow slowly.

     The last two photos silence her, however, much like they did Dean when he first saw them on the screen. Moved, she takes in the portraits of the strong bond between her and the man that’s sitting next to her. After a few long seconds, she glances aside, meeting his warm eyes.  This cowboy with a John Wayne reputation - as Jo so poetically put it - sure has his ways. He might not be very vocal when it comes to his feelings, but that’s alright, because he is able to communicate through different languages. A kiss, a dance, his trust, his support. And now these photos. It’s proof of his adoration for her, and it’s more valid than a signature.

     She closes the small gap between them, moving under his hat, and grazes her soft lips over his. Ignoring his Southern friend, who lets out a low chuckle when he notices the lovebirds next to him, the head wrangler closes his eyes and kisses her back. His hand travels into her hair and holds her, making sure she doesn’t go anywhere. He can feel every connection; her featherlight fingertips on his stubble, her cute nose against his, her lashes dusting the freckles from his cheeks. Dean doesn’t need words, but neither does she. 

     When he slowly pulls away from her, he looks at her lovingly, forgetting time for a moment. It’s only when the commentator announces Jo’s name over the speakers, that they return their attention to the arena. The gate opens and his cousin and her horse Bullet shoot towards the first barrel, the animal doing his name justice. The three wranglers of the Gold Canyon ranch get on their feet, cheering on the blonde cowgirl, who goes through the course in record time. When she clocks a new PR, Y/N bounces on her feet, hugging Dean tight and letting out that laugh that he loves so much. 

     They don’t notice Benny’s gaze wandering off to the car park behind the bleaches. He has spotted a beige pickup pulling in. Like a hawk, the farrier follows the GMC truck.      “We’re going over to Jo to celebrate. Are you coming?” The enthusiastic intern calls for Benny’s attention, and he turns his head to face his best pal’s girlfriend.      “In a minute, darlin’,” he says, giving her a smile. “Gonna watch a few more runs.”      “Alright, see you in a bit, brother,” Dean chuckles happily, before his girlfriend drags him towards the exit by his hand. 

     The Southerner watches them leave, then redirects his attention to the beat-up car on the field. A man gets out, his face shielded by a black cowboy hat. His posture seems familiar, he’s not even sure why. Benny narrows his eyes, but the figure is too far away to recognize. Then the frown evens out, his jaw falling slack. Suddenly, it clicks.       “No fuckin’ way in hell…” he mumbles to himself.

     But there ain’t no way, right? He can’t be here. Before Benny can decide otherwise, he bolts towards the steps to get down from the bleachers, hoping to not lose sight of the guy. He better make sure who just set foot on the showgrounds is exactly who he suspects he is, before he breaks the news to his best friend.

     Dean swings the heavy saddle onto Aerosmith’s back, his last horse to compete at this tournament. After this run, all that’s left for him to do is coach Y/N and Joplin for their competition debut, and then they can all pack their gear and go home. Despite that he enjoys horse shows like these, he’s looking forward to his own room, his own bed. He’s looking forward to pulling up the driveway that leads to the place that is his home.

 ��   It has been a successful couple of days. With five horses sold and Joplin likely to add to that number, the Flagstaff Horsefair has proven to be very fruitful. Bobby made good money, and the ranch owner will be able to pay his crew, plus pay off some bills. Then there’s the business deal they landed with Fergus MacLeod. The cowboy might not like the Englishman in the slightest, but if they decide to take on Cain’s training, it will provide a much needed steady income. Dean isn’t delusional; he knows the ranch isn't out of the woods just yet, but it’s a start.

     Humming and relaxed like he always is before competing, he tightens the cinch of the chestnut Quarter, petting him on the shoulder before he takes him out of the stable.      “Good luck, cowboy.”      The man who the words are meant for smiles, peeking into the stable next to him and noticing Y/N through the steel bars. She’s preparing Joplin, brushing her tail. Their starting time is only forty-five minutes after Dean’s, since both are competing in the same class. Sadly, she will not be able to see him ride.      The mare next to his girlfriend pins her ears back and gives Aero a dirty look when the gelding comes too close for her liking. Both snigger at Joplin’s bitchy behavior.

     “You’ll make it back in time to help me warm up, right?” she checks. “I’m kinda nervous, this being my first cutting competition and all.”      “Yeah, of course,” he promises, shooting her a wink. “I’ll be there.” 

     Dean takes his horse outside, the Arizona sun welcoming him with bright light. A force of habit has him check his spurs and the tack before he positions himself on the left side of his horse in order to mount.

     “Chief?”      Looking over his shoulder, he sees Benny approaching. His strides are hasty, his jaw tensed. He checks if anyone is around before he halts and faces the head wrangler, who can read from the body language alone that something is off.      “What is it?” he asks, his brows knitted together.      The Southerner’s piercing blue eyes meet his gaze before he continues whispering. “I hate to do this now right before your run, brother, but--”      “But what?” Dean urges when the farrier hesitates.

     Benny draws in a deep breath and rubs his beard, needing a second to collect himself. He knows that what he is about to tell his best friend will have him shake on his foundations, but he needs to be prepared. He deserves to know who he might run into. The broad-shouldered ranch hand sighs, then delivers the unsettling message.      “Your father is here.”

     As if he just got struck by lightning, Dean stares at Benny, his eyes wide and mouth agape. The announcement rings in his ears, sounding more surreal every time the four words bounce off the walls inside his head. Reality hits him like a raging bull, however. His father is here. His father is here.

     The head wrangler drops his gaze, his eyes flicking over little rocks and lumps of dirt by his feet. Speechless, he takes his hat off and wipes his forehead with his sleeve, realizing he’s sweating. His heart is hammering in his chest, so forceful that it hurts. Panic starts to win terrain, but he pushes it down and nods rigidly, acknowledging Benny’s words.

     “Okay,” he returns after a few long seconds. “Thanks for telling me.”      “If there’s anythin’--” Benny offers, but is interrupted by the man in front of him, who shoves his left foot into the stirrup and swiftly gets on his horse.      “I’m good,” he assures, doing his best to come across as calm and collected. 

     Benny dips his chin, half accepting Dean’s choice to put this on hold for now. The rider has one last horse to compete, so the Southerner understands why he’s trying to keep his head in the game. He wishes he didn’t have to drop this bomb now, but there’s a chance his friend might run into John on these showgrounds. Benny might not know the entire story of what happened all those years ago, but he knows enough to recognize the impact the presence of Dean’s biological father will have. He watches quietly how the horseman pushes his legs into Aerosmith’s flanks and steers the horse towards the warmup arena without another word. 

     Suddenly nervous, Dean is highly aware of all the people who cross his path. He briefly studies them, even though recognizing the man who has been absent for over half of his life scares the hell out of him. Why the fuck is he here? 

     Dean isn’t just afraid of running into his old man; he’s angry. Angry about all the wrong choices that were made, angry about those memories rushing back to him. He stored them in a box and nailed the latch shut. He buried them, dug a hole deep enough to fit all those dark thoughts. He covered the surface with a thick layer of concrete, convinced that all those measures would be enough to lock away what he hoped to never feel again. Hopelessness, frustration, torment, aggression, guilt. But those emotions are now working their way through the cracks, like a weed that just won’t die, working up to the surface and showing its ugly head again. 

     But what has him exasperated the most, is the timing. Why now? His father hasn’t given a damn for fifteen years, fifteen fucking years, and now that Dean is finally getting to the point of allowing himself to be happy, he decides to show up? His fist clenches on the horn of the saddle, his nails digging into his palm. This isn’t fair!

     His insides churn and twist even more when his mind snaps to Y/N. A sudden and heavy uneasiness settles in his chest, almost suffocating him. Shit, what if she runs into him? What if she learns the truth? Dean breathes out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes for a second while tipping his hat down. The panic that has his fingers shaky while he guides his horse into the warmup ring only grows with that thought. No no no, he thinks to himself. He can’t have his father ruin what is supposed to be his love story. He can’t lose this, he can’t lose her.

     Preparing for his final ride goes anything but smoothly. The rider is so lost in thought that he accidentally cuts off another competitor and has to hit the brakes, apologizing to the cowgirl for the misstep. It’s a wake-up call, though; he really needs to focus and get his head straight. Aerosmith is one of the horses he and Bobby decided to hold on to a little longer, hoping the economy will be on its way to recovery somewhere next year so that they can make a better profit. Dean brought the younger stallion along to gain experience in the ring, yet he wants this ride to be solid, knowing a potential buyer could be watching.

     But when he enters the arena, he can’t help but scan the crowd, suddenly aware that one of those pair of eyes is his father. He thinks of Y/N and how nervous she was last night, and suddenly it makes so much more sense what experiencing that kind of anxiety is like. The rider doesn’t even hear the announcement of his name over the amplifiers, he doesn’t hear Jo and Bobby shouting words of encouragement at him from the sideline. What he does hear is his rapidly beating heart, like a thundering echo of an oncoming storm. 

     He glances over his horse’s ears at the cattle in front of them. C’mon, Dean, this isn’t difficult. Separate a cow and let Aero do the work. Two and a half minutes and he will be out of the limelight. Who knows, maybe if they pack fast after Y/N’s ride, he won’t even run into his father. 

     The two herdholders that are in the ring to assist all contestants keep the group of young steers together. Unsettled, Dean swallows thickly and licks his dry lips, his eyes on the clock. When it starts ticking, he moves his hands forward and pushes Aerosmith towards the herd. The game is simple. In two and a half minutes, he has to separate two different heifers from the group and keep the selected cow in the middle of the arena, he and his Quarter the only boundary between the animal and his flock. He and Aero will be judged on degree of difficulty, confidence, and agility, but right now, all Dean is thinking about is surviving.

     Deciding to not make it too complicated for his horse and himself, the horseman doesn’t pick a heifer too far into the herd on the first cut. Without disrupting the gathered bunch, the chestnut calmly makes his way through until Dean has decided on a cow, which he then carefully begins to push to the edge. When he has driven the brindle heifer out, Dean drops the reins and allows his Quarter to take the lead. Aerosmith locks on the lonely animal and crouches, skillfully keeping it in the center of the arena.

     The crowd cheers, because the talented Quarter shows to be quick on his feet, darting from left and right and accelerating fast when his target tries to get around him. The cowboy keeps his balance, allowing his horse to move under him freely. After a few attempts to get past them, the cow yields and the rider signals Aero to back down. He blows out a breath. One down, one more to go.

     The second cut goes according to plan as well. This time he does pick a heifer in the middle of the herd. The Quarterhorse tries not to disturb the rest of the cattle as he separates the one, but splitting the animals is not as clean as the first time. Once the cow is driven to the middle of the ring again, Aerosmith is back in his element and shows off his moves. Dean only has to sit back and let his partner under the saddle do the work, which he’s grateful for, because he feels like he wouldn’t be able to guide his horse in a simple circle if he had to. 

     The buzzer sounds; his two and a half minutes are up. Relieved, Dean exhales; at least he didn’t completely screw up their run. The young gelding really pulled through despite a nervous wreck of a rider on top of him, which just shows what a fantastic horse he is.      “Thanks, bud,” Dean says softly, petting the chestnut on the shoulder.

     The applause barely registers and it’s only when his eyes roam over the audience, that he notices the numbers on the board. 72.5 points; not bad. Normally, he would have been elated with a score like that, but now he just wants to get out of the ring as fast as possible, away from possible prying eyes. He feels like he’s being watched, well aware that his father is quite possibly amongst the people in the crowd. Call him a coward, but he needs to get out of here.

     “Solid ride, Dean,” Bobby compliments when the rider comes through the gate, walking with him. When his nephew fails to respond, he looks up, narrowing eyes taking him in from under his baseball cap. “You okay, son?”

     The troubled rider snaps his head at his uncle. Son. Bobby calls him that all the time and has done so ever since he took the lost boy under his wing all those years ago. Dean has grown accustomed to the title, even found comfort in it, glad to hear that word coming from his surrogate dad. But now the term confuses him. Suddenly, the man who has failed to step up to take care of his children and yet is his only living parent is here, and it is messing with his head in more ways than one.      “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, quickly averting his gaze and walking on.

     Bobby lets him go, but Dean can sense the ranch owner watching him carefully. Unable to stop himself from scanning the people around the warm-up area, he briefly acknowledges the congratulations wishes from a few of his opponents with a nod and a ‘thanks’. Normally he’s up for a chat after a good run, but not now. He feels like he’s about to lose his mind, and he wants to be alone when it happens. He needs space, he needs air. 

     After a few minutes of hacking, Dean reaches the stables, grateful to find them mostly empty. With the last competition currently taking place in the arena, a lot of competitors already packed their trucks and trailers and left throughout the morning and afternoon. At the other end of the tent two people are tacking up, but they are far out of earshot. 

     In front of Aerosmith’s stable, the rider dismounts and leads the Quarter into his box, making quick work of removing the tack and rinsing the chestnut down. With the saddle on his hip and the bridle in hand, he steps into the storage room.      “How did it go?”

     Dean startles and almost drops the heavy load he was carrying, spinning around to find Y/N in the doorway. Somehow, it completely slipped his mind that she would still be here. The cowgirl is wearing her show outfit again, but traded her black blouse for a denim one this time. Long chaps hang down from her waist, strapped around her legs, her brass spurs barely showing. Her boots are shining and her hair is braided, her lucky hat only just allowing him to behold the playfulness in her eyes. She looks absolutely perfect.

     Clueless and carefree, she waits for an answer, but her happy expression falls slightly when she notices his reaction. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles, somewhat self-conscious. “What has you on your toes?”      The cowboy blinks at her a few times before he kicks into gear again, storing away the saddle in one of the tack boxes. “Nothin’. Yeah, it uh - it went alright. 72.5 points,” he says, smiling at her faintly, quick to dodge her unraveling gaze.

     Silence follows and he knows that she’s studying him, but Dean can’t even look at her, not sure how to deal with the worry that he knows is evident on her beautiful face. The second he gets lost in the vision of his girl, he will fall apart, and that’s something the unsettled wrangler can’t allow to happen. He can’t let her see it, she can’t know. So instead, he moves past her through the doorway to fill a feeding net with hay, desperately searching for a way to keep himself busy as he tries to get a hold of himself.

     “Dean? Hey…”      Her voice sounds so warm and kind, that he can’t ignore her any longer. When he has strung up the net, he turns to his girlfriend, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. Concerned eyes take him in when he looks up.      “You’re shaking,” she notices, gently wrapping her delicate fingers around his forearms. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

     Before she finishes her sentence completely, he’s already shaking his head. It’s more denial than an actual answer, refusing to give in to all the contradicting feelings that are pulling the rug from under his boots. She knows him well enough to see that he’s a total mess right now. His mask is faltering and he’s breaking character, unable to deliver the standard ‘I’m fine’. Can he tell her about the disturbing message Benny delivered earlier? She will have more questions, questions he is nowhere near ready to answer. But then again, he can’t lie to her either, not anymore. 

     Dean takes a deep breath in order to collect himself and looks at her as heavy footfalls draw his attention. Expecting Benny, he glances over his shoulder, ready to request if his friend can grant them some privacy, when he catches a glimpse of the person standing in the alley between the stables. Every muscle in his body tenses, an invisible fist squeezing his throat shut. His heart - which has been beating unhealthily fast since the alarming news was delivered to him about an hour ago - now seems to come to a full stop for a few solid seconds. 

     They might be in Arizona, but Dean just froze to the ground, unable to move or speak. All he can do is stare at the man that is his own spitting image, only three decades older. The familiar stranger is wearing a smile on his lips, emotion swimming in weary eyes. After fifteen years of silence, John Winchester stands before his oldest child, a broken voice delivering the words Dean never wished to hear again, and yet missed so dearly.

     “Hello, son.” 

Well, shit... Enough with the fluff. Angst is here!

Also, did you spot my little Stan Lee moment? Does a certain red-haired photographer seem familiar? Yep, that’s me!

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-four here

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Review: The First Adventure! or Baby Donald Says Eat the Rich

Welcome back. I’d been looking forward to this one for some time in the hopes of getting one thing i’ve been waiting for.. sadly that thing didn’t come, we’ll get to that, but this was still a fun episode so let’s hop right in. Spoilers in a second but my tag is spoiler tagged soooo.  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We open in the 1960′s. Austin Powers just went into Cryo Freeze to prepare for Dr. Evil’s eventual return, The Marvel Universe was in full swing, a teenager in baltimore was battling racisim via a dance show, and Black Heron had just been caught by Agent 22, aka Beakly when she was young and just as gorgeous then as she is now. Heron once again engaged in her usual cartoonish supervillian, and now SHUSH has her.  Meanwhile in a nearbye room a young accountant by the name of Bradford Buzzard is outlining his plan for Director Von Drake: The way he sees it every time a villian costs chaos Shush “Wastes” billions causing MORE chaos to stop it without controlling things. He proposes taking over the world, weeding out the chaos and ruling from the shadows. Naturally, Ludvig isn’t on board with any of this and points out they aren’t super villains. It’s here this episode fully defines something about Bradford’s character. Back in “Let’s Get Dangerous!” when Huey called him a villain, he said he’s not one... at least from his point of view. It’s here, in his youth we get a clear understanding why he dosen’t think so: So far most people we’ve seen in the world of Ducktales take the chaos and insanity of the world in stride: Either just numb to it like most of the citizens, Rolling with it like Daisy and Violet, or diving straight into it like.. pretty much the majority of the cast, either for the love of adventure and treasure like the McDuck/Duck family, or for their own ludcrious ends like Glomgold, Mark Beaks or Magica. To them the world’s fine the way it is and there’s to explore, take or whatever.  To Bradford.. this is madness... he feels all these people are just a bunch of overgrown children, and in some cases actual children, are just making the world worse and worse until one day their going to break it. One day skill, intuition, wit, and knowledge just wont’ be enough. Someday Scrooge, SHUSH or whoever’s standing in the way of evil will fail and the world will fall. This simply can’t go on, and SOMEONE has to control this, someone has to take this world, shake the chaos out of it and MAKE it sane. Make it work the way it’s SUPPOSED to. And to Bradford that’s him. Someone has to, no one else will, so he will. To him SHUSH doing this is just the logical thing: They want peace right? Their fighting for good right? Then what’s better than making the world a utopia? Ending these conflicts and remaking it.  The thing is.. that’s not what Heroes do. As we’ve seen in various stories where the superheroes, the Good Guys take over they do improve things.. but at the cost of free will. At the cost of free thought. At the cost of their morals. They become what they were fighting all those years and have to bloody their hands and keep them bloody just to make THEIR world right. And that’s not Utopia, that’s a dictatorship. The example I always come to, even though there were ones before and after this including Marvel’s incredible Squadron Supreme maxi-series, is Justice League the animated series’ two parter, like most of their episodes really but that’s not the point, a Better World, about an alternate reality where Superman kills Lex Luthor after Luthor kills the flash and hte League take over the world. The thing is.. the world isn’t BETTER. It’s just crime free. You can sweep the chaos and the crime under the rug.. but your not making a better world, your just making YOUR version of it. No one person is a god even if they have a power of one and no one person can or SHOULD be able to decide what’s best for everyone. It’s up to each of us to MAKE the world better, to fight for a better world. That’s what Ludvig knows full well and what Bradford just can’t see. You can’t control the world, you just have to accept the things you can’t change like it being chaotic and change the things you can like injustice. 

Bradford however, who was hired as a favor to his grandmother, can’t though Von Drake lets him off with a warning.. and a laugh about an accountant being able to be a super villian. Bradford however realizes ther’es some truth to that.. he needs someone to teach him out to operate outside the law, and if SHUSH won’t take the world and remake it.. maybe it’s time someone else did.  So in the prison cells of SHUSH, which are conveniently empty outsdide of Heron, Bradford outlines his plan to her. To create a massive orgnization to steal the world and give it the order it needs. To combine their skills: Heron’s for grandeur and crime, and Bradfords for strategy and focus, to take the world. The Orginzation for World Larceny, or OWL, fitting bradford’s hatred for theatrics. Heron objects, adding an F for fiendish, and Bradford relucntantly agrees to get her on board, lets her loose and fakes like he just saw her escape. FOWL is born. And the world would never be the same. Cue credits and cue the rest of the review under the cut. 

After the opening we cut to 1994-5.. sometime around then as it’s hard to get an exact year, and that’s how the crew likes it. Point is it’s the 90′s, and Scrooge is.. busy running his company. We’ll get into the weeds of that in a bit, but this is a different Scrooge, one who while no less capable, has no thirst for adventure or drive. He’s not nearly as miserable as the Scrooge we saw back in Woo-Ooo but he’s still a much less complete man. Anyways alongside him for his planning is Duckworth, whose very much alive at this time, and who tells his boss his sister Hortense left something in his office for him.  To no one suprise, that thing is the twins, at the tender age of i’m guessing 10. Since your probably curious, Della is still voiced by Paget Brewster, just using a slightly different voice like the Triplets and Webby’s voice actors do. It’s just a bit more jarring here since unlike those characters, we’ve seen adult della and thus are used to this voice coming out of a grown woman. It’s not bad and I got used to it eventually but it was jarring at first especially since once again Donald has a completely diffrent voice ACTRESS doing his voice.  This time around it’s cristina valenzuela, of Miraculous Ladybug fame, who I know more for her song work and twitter than her actual work ,but am delighted to see her here and she does a terrific job. I genuneily did not realize it was her, and while not exactly like the late great russi taylor, it is just similar enough to work. 

So we get to see what the Twins were like when they were the Triplets age: Della is about the same, but with more of Dewey’s impulsiveness, and Donald, much like he’d be a few years and some dead parents later, is a bitter, grungey musician whose constantly on his guitar and railing against the man.. which is Scrooge in this case which is fair. Hortense left a note.. which bothered me as I genuinely expected her to show up and was majorly disappointed she did not. We are in year 4 of this series, season 3 and STILL no appearance of Hortense or mention how she died, as she and Quackmore are still alive by the end of this. Given she’s easily my faviorite part of Life and Times, this bothered me, and the only reason i’m not more upset.. is the clever way they wrote around actually using her. The letter she leaves for Scrooge explaining things is the same one Della herself used in the comic strip, and using a bit of the postcard she left in the cartoons, when leaving Huey, Dewey and Louie with Donald, down to the Twins having left a firecracker in their fathers seat, thus leaving him in the hosptial. As disappointed as I am my favorite Ginger is completely absent once again, this is a brilliant reference, and I have to give them credit for it, so it’s a fair enough trade off.  As for his “Angel Nephew and Niece”, Della wants to dive into adventure while Donald struggles to write a song, singing throughout the episode. It varies in tolerablity, though mostly due to the writing, Cristina is doing fine. Della however is disappointed to find her legendary uncle views his past exploits as merley a means to an end to get his fortune and now he has it he can just focus on building it in the boardroom. This is an intresting take.. and one I could easily have seen happening to the Don Rosa version seen in Life and Times. The Scrooge there himself saw building his wealth as the most important thing until his encounter with Teddy Rosevelt, who taught him experince was what mattered and the having isn’t as fun as the getting. It works for me: This is a scrooge who never got that lesson so once he got to be richest duck in the world, having achieved his life’s goal nothing was left. He’s not miserable like the Scrooge we saw at the start of the series, having lost his love for adventure after loosing his niece/daughter, and having lost his fight. This one has retired.. but because he likely just sees no point in going on. He’s the richest duck in the world, has a vast empire.. no amount of treasure is really going to add to that like it used to, and as he points out in a second Shush has tons of agents at this point to clean up what’s left of FOWL. He’s the man who has everything, so why keep going. It’s weird to see a scrooge without the hunger to keep going, but it makes sense when his belly is full. Without someone to get him to see there’s always another rainbow, he just stopped chasing them. Also a fun nod to the comics I almost forgot to mention is when hearing about the “Gift”, i.e. the twins, Scrooge dreads it’s another surprise party, a nod to life and times where Hortense threw Scrooge one that went.. badly and lead to their entire relationship collapsing. Though Donald did get back at Scrooge for screaming at his parents and Auntie Matilda

However his busy day is disrupted with a call from Beakly. They’ve found the last known cordinates of Captain Yellowbeak, but FOWL is on them and Scrooge is the only one Beakly trusts for this since they have a leak. Beakly is also director of SHUSH at this point, with Von Drake having retired or died or both at this point. Scrooge reluctantly accepts, while Della is excited at the prospect of a real adventure and Donald ends up sharing her enthusasim as it’d make a good song. Scrooge, naturally, has no intention of bringing them with him to their disapointment and leads Donald to sing another “Suck it the man song” which totally isn’t about Scrooge.... spoilers: It entirely is, he’s just a little dumbass grunge baby and I love him.  We then get a cute sequence of Della popping up in Scrooge’s Luggage and Trunk to try and convince him to let them tag along, before we cut to the Limo, driven by Duckworth at this point, which solves that mystery. Scrooge is firm in having his butler take them back and have them work with him and Duckworth’s fine with that.. but wants overtime, which is fair. Scrooge, being Scrooge, grumbles about not being made of money, proven wrong by gold spilling out of him. Though I do like the update of Scrooge’s classic cheapness when it comes to pay: INstead of barely paying his employees like a monster, he’s simply reluctant to pay extra if he dosen’t have to, and would rather drag two 10 year olds with him on a dangerous adventure than pay overtime, which tracks. It’s also clear if he had to he WOULD actually pay it, either due to legal reasons or his moral standards, he just isn’t happy about it. So he agrees, though he wants Donald to leave the guitar behind which.. given the most Donald’s been able to come up with is “Suck it THE MAN” and “This guy’s a greedy asshole”.. he’s extremely correct and when Donald tries to pull a “YOU CAN’T CENSOR ME MANNNN”, Scrooge just chucks it out of the car.  At the airfield while Della is excited like an rabid chipmunk, and genuinely thinks she can fly a plane because she’s played Outrunner 2.. which I have only vaguely heard of before now. And is apparently just a pc game where you run a lot so I genuinely do not get where Della gets piloting from that.. but she IS Dewey’s mother. So with that in mind the family take off and Scrooge explains what their after: The Papyrus of Binding. It’s a dangerously powerful magical artifact from Ancient Egypt that will make whatever’s written on it happen. The dangerous part is that it’s incredibly literal: As Bradford puts later in the episode, ask for unlimited power, it might zap you dead with a million volts, ask for infinite wealth, prepare to be crushed underneath it. It’s a nice twist on a Monkey’s Paw or Jackass Genie situation. Instead of either the source of the wish granting magic just being inherently evil, or some dickhead screwing with the hero.. it’s just an object that has no ability to interpret nuance, just like your phone with the goddamn autocorrect. It can’t judge intent or tone or meaning, it just gives exactly what it’s asked. It’s a thoroughly interesting concept. 

Something I really like about this episode is the fact it answers some little questions. While none were Hortense related, and I am still grumpy about that even with this coming out a good 17 hours after I watched it due to getting caught up with other stuff, it does have little touches that explain small parts of the lore: Who drove Scrooge? As just mentioned, Duckworth. Who flew scrooge? Paid pilots. Did he have a plane before the sunchaser? Yup. It fills in some small gaps in the world. Stuff we weren’t dying to know but’s stil lintresting. Said pilots in this case however are Heron and Bradford. This episode also fills in Heron’s character, as while we’ve already seen bits and pieces this season she LOVES being a classic, take over the world james bond type villian, like she stepped out of a duck version of kim possible.. and i’m just now realizing there probably IS a duck kim possible somewhere in this world as while far after disney afternoon, it fits too neatly to not be wedged in there with your tailspins and goof troops. I wouldn’t be suprised if there were brid versions of every human based disney afternoon and one saturday morning show. My.. my head’s swimming from this. I could be, and probably am wrong but the sheer idea of this... it’s amazing.  Back to Heron, she just LOVES being evil and destructive, letting the world know she exists and operating on a grand scale. Now we’ve seen more of her while she’s Beakly’s nemisis.. she’s really an evil scrooge.. yes another one. Like Scrooge, at least how he normally is,  she simply gets how the world of Ducktales operates and can take advantage of that to the best of her ablility. Just like adventuering, cartoonish supervilliany is about risk and reward.. sometimes you faceplamnt hard, that’s the risk, but the rewards and rush is worth it. She’s as addicted to grandoise villiany as Scrooge is to adventure by this point. And like Scrooge, and unlike her partner Bradford, she sees the world as it is: Chaotic and one big sandbox to play in. She contrasts Scrooge by the fact that while Scrooge is willing to bust down doors, he still has morals, as well as the wisdom to not go overboard Heron often lacks. It also makes her a good contrast ot the equally skilled Beakly: While Beakly is taciturn, controlled in all things especially her emotions, Heron is bombastic, gloating and borderline insane, and while deadly in a fight, dosen’t exercise any control in her plans, preferring it big and loud despite her partner usually being right about reiging it in.  So Heron evacuates dramatically, taking a grumpy Bradford with them, and sending the plane into a tailspin. 

I can’t wait for Next Year’s Tailspin episode. I swear to god. I’m hoping for Shere Kahn but this episode has taught me to be okay with disapointment, if a grumpus. Della however shows her natural talent and despite having no real experince with planes, lands it gracefully. While that’s going on, Bradford berates Heron for her plan, pointing out that they COULD have simply landed the plane, then captured the McDuck family and executed them quitely, versus leaving a chance they’ll survive which they do. They AREN’T supervillains.. or at least he thinks he isn’t. Heron does show off her competence though, pointing out that this way they can simply stay low, and FOLLOW the Ducks to the treasure. Bradford is impressed for a second.. till Heron’s evil shows as she plans to use the Papyrus. Bradford loudly objects to this, listing the possible risks shown before. If not used CAREFULLY, it could kill them, and she balks and wants him to just embrace being the Villian already. It’s what I love about their dynamic set up here: While they are equals, Bradford is a better strategist, able to think and plan way in advance, and prefers subterfuge, and if present day is any indicatoin probably used Heron’s flash to distract from the real mission or goal often or to do something on the down low while she kept SHUSH busy. His last two plans, while again requiring some pizzaz, relied on misdrection: having the ducks take care of an immidate threat like their used to.. while he gets exactly what he wants while their busy and whatever they get out of it is either nothing (Impossibin) or something he couldn’t use just yet and thus if he didn’t get it, no loss, but if he did it just moves up the timetable. Not only that but he’s outlasted all three other big bads, lying in the shadows till it was too risky to leave scrooge and play and even THEN, only coming out into the open when forced out. IT’s why he’s Scrooge’s most dangerous opponent: He knows how Scrooge’s other enmities operates as well as Scrooge himself. And since he knows everything he can maneuver Scrooge exactly where he needs him to do exactly what he wants. It’s unknown how the family will beat him, but he’s easily the biggest challenge they’ve had. 

But back to the show and the past, Scrooge bonds with his niece and nephew, retelling stories of his past as they get closer, with Donald ending up high at one point and thus seeing the ship stranded on a mountain. As he recounts a fight with El Capitan, the villian from the ducktales 87 pilot, he counts the story as as a loss: He didn’t get anything from it, no treasure no new contracts. But Della shows him the point he’s been missing; He got a story. Sure he lost.. but he got experince, a tale to tell and a legend grown.Just because you don’t get everything dosen’t mean it wasn’t worth the experince and you can’t hold it in your heart. And this episode shows why this scrooge needed his family: Without Teddy to mentor him, he simply never got that adventure wasn’t about gains or what you get.. it’s about the thrill of it, the enjoyment of discovery and the memories you make.. it’s about the Journey not the destination. 

As Scrooge starts to warm up to that, he finds a gap, with Della volunteering Donald to jump but Scrooge just having the kids hop on his back and pogo caneing across. The family find the Papyrus, and find out why the ship is all the way up here: Captain Yellowbeak, who’s a character from one of barks stories and the one who had the scroll last, wished to escape.. but that just stranded them. He asked for water.. and it drowned his crew.. and finally with the document hteir reading he asked for release... and thus is now a skelington. The kid are happy to have reached the goal.. while Scrooge is back on his Zack Morris phone trying to reschedule things and schedule a SHUSH evac, to the kids annoyance. However Scrooge raining on their parade gets interupted by Heron and Bradford, as Heron can’t resist popping out dramatically and Bradford is UTTERLY furious since she blew his cover, and Scrooge recognizes him from his christmas party, a nice callback. Scroog being scrooge figures out he’s the mole and Bradford runs , furious at Heron. Their conflict is an intresting one: Both have a point but both will not back down. Bradford is right this showboating nonsense has only hindered Heron’s plans.. and Heron is right that Bradford needs to accept he’s the bad guy. Even if he has well meaning motives, he’s the villian, he works with them, he leads them.. he is one.  He just can’t accept he’s wrong or dosen’t have the answers... huh.. I wonder who that reminds you of. And that’s 100% intentional as Frank has outright compared Huey and Bradford and like last season it’s neat to have the main vilian contrast our chosen Duck for the season. 

Heron outfoxes the kids and gets the papyrus and being just an enitrely black hearted bitch, plans to kill them just to spite scrooge.. writing that “his sidekicks will perish on this mission.”.... but Scrooge’s character development, and her choice of words, means nothing happens. As Scrooge outlines, “Their not my sidekicks their my FAMILY, and this isn’t a mission, it’s an ADVENTURE”. Scrooge has finally accepted his life for what it really is.. and the thrill of the chase over what lies at the end. There’s always anothe rainbow.. and he’s finally become the man who will chase every last one. 

OF course this is interupted, and Heron escapes with the papyrus, when a skeletal pirate attacks.. why is Yellow Beak alive, why’d the scroll do this?

But we get a neat fight as Scrooge fights the skeleton while he sends the kids after Heron. Scrooge gets a cool looking swordfight, while Bradford gets the papyrus, and Yellowbeak even terrifies me what with his bestial roll and fucking centepede crawling out of him.. jesus those things freak me out.  Meanwhile the kids battle Heron, who throws della overboard... and thus for the first time, Donald taps into his beserker rage, snikty snoink, and easily incapaciates the more experinced and fully grown adul, though Della since we’eve been following her kids for the past three seasons, is fine, if suprised by her brother being the goddamn wolverine. 

While heron is out for a second, Scrooge heads after Bradford, and vows to tell Beakly and chase him all across the world. However Bradford gets an utterly awesome moment.. he admits scrooge may be right and probably would.. but since he has the papayrus and is careful in everything he writes his request carefully and perfectly “As far as the ducks are concerned, I was never here.” Grante dit COULD have left scrooge out.. but since he didn’t sday duck family or specificy, and likely knew it’d do that, it instead just means the three bilogical ducks. Bradford dissappears, turning invisble and leaving the papyrus for scrooge, who foils heron by simply writing that this scroll will be lost until one day found by his heirs.

So Heron takes a fall and looses an arm, again.. or for the first time.. the family is triumphant and despite loosing his goal, Scrooge is convinced he and the kids will find it again. See above. Scrooge then pulls out his phone and tells Duckworth to rework his schedule.. but it’s so he can find someone to run his comapny so he can spend more time with the kids. As for why Hortense would allow this before her still mysterious passing.. i’m guessing A) she notices her brother is happier and more alive than he’s been for a while and B) they just blew up their dad’s ass with a firecracker, and she won’t be able to use it for a while, so she’s double mad, so if it means she gets a moment’s peace and is with someone she trusts.. why not?

So we end on Scrooge packing up, preparing for further adventures.. i’d love a spinoff of this one day. I mean Disney plus needs it, and since Frank is probably going over to Darkwing.. maybe matt could take a crack at this. Just saying. You have the cast ready, a giant world to explore, and 15 years worth adventures. Run that baby damn you! But yeah the inevitble happens and Bradford further proves his magificent bastardry.. by appling for the position of running the company as head of Scrooge’s board, and setting up said board. So now FOWL has unlimited resources, he has a direct eye on what he now realizes is his greatest threat, and the complete trust and faith of both Scrooge and Beakly. It also puts Beakly’s breakdown in context: We now see WHY she went as far as she did: While the revelation was bad for Scrooge, finding out one of his most trusted allies was a traitor the whole time and knew everything about him, for Beakly.. it had to be worse. Finding out one of your best employees, one of the FEW people you ever trusted, and someone you DIRECTLY RECOMMENDED TO SCROOGE, was not only the man who set up your greatest enemies, but had compromised your organization for most of your career. IT’s no wonder she broke down so hard.. while I already gave several reason adding “This level of betrayal and self doubt to the list” only makes it that much harder on her. But for now a partnership is started.. one that very well may end scrooge. 

Final Thoughts: A pretty good episode overall. It’s well paced, to the point I probably forgot a LOT, has some good jokes, and fills in a lot of the gaps in the lore, while giving us a nice insight into bradford and heron. Even without hortense this was a pretty good episode. 

Upcoming Reviews: LIfe and Times; Master of the Mississippi Ride of the Three Cabbleros: The Three Cablleros (House of Mouse) Tomtrospective: Lava Lake Beach

[nightmarenoise]

Some thoughts on TMNT 2012

I finished watching the entirety of the TMNT 2012 series a while ago and boy, do I have some thoughts™. First of all though, the following is going to be my opinions and you’re free to disagree with them. If you feel like attacking me for expressing these opinions though, I’m just going to have to ask you to take a minute and consider that you are about to be a bitch online over an eight year old children’s animated show, and that maybe you should find something else to base your entire identity around. Secondly, I don’t hate the show, not by any means. It was fine. It was fine. It was fine, you guys. I wouldn’t have watched it otherwise. I watched usually about half a season per day because I have too much time on my hands but if I do more than 13 episodes, my puny brain will implode. That being said, I understand that the binge watching might have affected my judgement, because having to wait for a new episode to air each week hits different, I know. Still, I came home after work each day, cozied up in bed and watched 13 episodes of turtle shenanigans before going to sleep and my sleep schedule has never been better. But I digress. Also, I will compare 2012 to Rise, because that’s the only other TMNT show I’ve seen and because this is my post and I want to and it’s only initially.

I feel like the main difference between Rise and 2012 is that Rise is a character-driven show, while 2012 is ultimately plot-driven.

Why do things in Rise happen? Because a character wants something (the boys want to buy their dad a nw robe, April wants to spend a normal day with her new friend, etc, those are just from the top of my head). The motivations are ultimately mundane, and then the story goes from there.

Why do things in 2012 happen? Because the plot said so. Sure, the characters grow and change, but they’re ultimately vehicles for the plot. We don’t really take a minute to let the characters breathe. Usually, things happen because the Turtles saw something on patrol and they’re on patrol because they know the plot is waiting out there to get them.

The show starts with April’s dad being kidnapped by the Krang (/Kraang? It’s unclear) and April herself being spared this presumably gruesome fate because Donnie saved her at the last second. She then goes on to live with an aunt we never see.

We also don’t see much of how this affects April at first. Sure, she is shown to be sad and wanting to get her father back, but the episode ends on the Turtles leaving her at her aunt’s place and then we’re done for the day. Hell, the next time we see April, she just casually drops by their place to show Mikey how to make online friends.

Maybe that’s just me being overly criticial, but I could have done with more time between those moments, showing her coming to terms with things, her normal day-to-day live, or heck, even just going to the lair for the first time.

But we don’t get that because plot has to happen.

April isn’t the only character who suffers from that, but I feel like it affects her the most.

The writers seem to have learned their lesson, because when April loses her dad for the second time, to mutation this time around, she blames the Turtles (which isn’t wrong) and then doesn’t talk to them for a month while presumably going back to her aunt, who I suppose never asks any questions. She only goes back to talking to them when Casey tells her a similar story and she realizes something something, hurting someone without meaning to. Which is fine, but it’s also not really, because it implies April being rightfully upset isn’t valid, because the Turtles didn’t mean to mutate her dad and it was an accident, but it feels like it tone polices someone for experiencing a loss and not letting her take some time for herself to come to terms with that.

But y'know we need her, in part because she’s The Special, but most importantly, so one of the most tedious love subplots can happen.

I know they explained April’s specialness as her being a human/Krang mutant and the Krang needing her unique brain to mutate the entire planet because …reasons. Except for when they later attack New Yok and then don’t need her for that anymore. On that note, I do not understand Krang’s plan at all. Time passes faster in their dimension and they’re kind of at war with the Triceratons and have trouble with the Utrom, so they want to leave (even though the Triceratons are clearly also in our universe, so why not pick a different dimension to take over entirely? There’s established to be ten) and mutate a planet to take over. This is all well and good, except they’ve been at it for about seven million years? Krang takes credit for creating the first humans with mutagen and it’s been mentioned that they steered human evolution to the point where they could create a human/Krang hybrid, such as April. But why did they only have one? They lost track of her when her dad and her fled to New York City, wouldn’t it have been more convenient to have more mutants to do their vague mutant stuff they require by the plot to take over the planet?

Even if we assume that this first mutation means that the first humans didn’t surface between seven and five million years ago, humans haven’t evolved that much in the last couple thousand years. Why wait so long? It must have been billions of years for the Krang.

I know it’s a cartoon and stuff, but they could have easily removed that problem by cutting the line about Krang taking credit for human evolution and for the Krang having been with us for thousands of years. It just creates problems.

Speaking of problematic, the romantic subplots. So, Leo wants to bang his sister, Donnie is creepily obsessed with the first human girl he’s ever met and Mikey is such a good boy, he gets two love interests, because one isn’t enough for all the love and goodness contained in orange boy. I still think it’s weird because all of these love interests are humans, but I gradually got over that. I managed to think about this without physically convulsing for ten whole minutes, for starts.

Okay, so Donnie/April is just bad. The writing and the execution are bad. The characters are fine, I love Donnie, even though he focuses way too much of his time and attention on obsessing over April, but I can let that go on account of him being a teen dealing with his very first ever crush. April though  is frequently made to be a callous bitch who knows of his feelings and leads him on when she wants something, but pushes him away at all other times. I vividly remember the time New York was overrun by Krang and April helped Donnie bandage his injured arm and he was about to confess his feelings to her and she pulled too tight to get him to stop. Instead of being up front about it or just telling him that she either liked him or not or that now just wasn’t the time to focus on romance - all of which super valid in their own right. Rip the bandaid off, girl. None of them look especially good coming out of this.

It gets worse considering that after seasons of back and forth and even introducing Casey to give us a love triangle, everyone’s favorite thing in media and April redeeming herself by also being That Way to Casey and by redeeming I mean informing us that she just isn’t really fit for a relationship because she is very toxic in handling them, the whole thing is just kind of dropped forever. There’s no payoff. We spent so much time watching Donnie agonize over this, get worse, then get over his stalker-ish tendencies and get rewarded with a kiss and then nothing ever happens. They don’t even have a conversation about their feelings. The show tries to make it seem like there’s a special connection between April and Donnie because she kills him and then feels bad and brings him back, but, no. That’s not how any of that works. Ultimately this whole thing feels like a huge and infuriating waste of time. Fourth place. And that’s a kindness.

Leo and Karai get third place, mainly because of the incest. Neither of them is as toxic over this subplot and it also has the common decency of not taking up that much time, but it’s still weird. I don’t have much to say here. I guess it was dropped in the end, but maybe also not, but at least there weren’t 30 episodes about Leo agonizing over Karai while she was being weird and also she had her own thing going on and felt like a more fleshed out character than April despite getting less screen time. Third place.

Mikey gets silver because while he’s flirting with two human girls, they both seem to be exclusively into it and also he’s much more mature about dealing with it than his supposedly intelligent brother. Get this. Mikey, being mature at something. None of these ships are confirmed, but it’s a nice change of pace.

Raph takes gold because he fell in love with a girl after she beat the crap out of him and nothing is more valid than that.

Okay, the plot feels kind of rushed, in that they’re confessing undying love after kissing twice, but one, they’re teens and two, this is just the best we’re going to get out of this show.

Casey, well.

Casey exists. He doesn’t add all that much to the story. He has a delightful dynamic with Raph, coming in just after Slash confronted him with his worst traits and then reinforcing the “be a vigilante and do good”-angle and that’s nice. Outside of that though, he tries to hit on April, he hits things with his hockey sticks and I guess he has a family he cares about that we never see. Oops.

I’m very ambivalent about Splinter. I do get him and he’s a good sensei, but kind of a lousy father? Sure, his entire life went up in flames quite spectacularly, but as soon as he realizes his daughter is alive, he often seems to prioritize getting her back over the lives of the four sons he actually raised and spent the last fifteen years with? Also, he’s a dick to Mikey? He gets better later and then he dies. Hm.

Mikey wasn’t as annoying as I feared, going in. He was still stupid, but he had his moments. I also didn’t find him as funny as some of the writers probably hoped, but he was fine. He’s a good boy who deserved better every step of the way, but his brothers and Splinter are kind of not nice to him despite him being just as capable as his brothers. Neither is the show, often making him the butt of a joke or downplaying his achievements (producing super-retro mutagen, saving all his brothers from parasite wasps and the one time he saved the city from cannibal pizza it was treated like a “it was all a dream or was it” and nobody believed him). He doesn’t get a lot of development, but he’s the goodest boy.

Raph again surprised me. He arguably underwent the most development, dealing with his many demons and getting a grip on his temper. This was especially apparent in the Northampton arc when he did chores without complaint and helped Leo train.

Leo on the other hand, started as the leader of the team and ended the story as the de-facto leader of the family and also he was stronger now. I don’t know. Being a leader was his defining trait from start to finish and while he agonized over that, he wasn’t allowed much development outside of that. His first meeting with Karai introduced this subplot about him wanting to be irresponsible and do his own thing, but that was quickly dropped and never brought up again. I liked him best when he was being a dork over his favorite TV show or that time he went to space and on his first outing tried to hit on an alien lady. I would have liked to see more of that Leo, because that Leo was actually interesting.

Donnie, I don’t know. Most of his time was poured into the world’s worst romantic subplot and outside of that he had some traits, but he was mostly there so he could analyze things, develop antivenoms at the drop of a hat, finally create a retromutagen and build 152 vehicles. I like Donnie, but there isn’t much to talk about that isn’t directly tied to April. Except maybe how he promised to turn Timothy back into a human and then never did, even though we keep seeing his frozen remains in the back of the lab. For shame, Donnie. For shame.

To the show’s credit, a lot of the mutants looked horrifying and creepy. They had a tight grip on that horror vibe and it was great. They maintained a balance of comedy and horror and while it wasn’t great, it was a nice reprieve.

I hated Shredder and I know I was supposed to, but I will never get over what a petty bitch he was.

The thing that hit me the hardest was probably the destruction of Earth at the end of season 3. I was legitimately upset about that, so that’s probably a good thing. But when five minutes into the next episode Scrooge McDoctor Who did some timey whimey bullshit to reverse it, I was not any less upset. Make of that what you will. (No, I’ll explain, I felt cheated and it was cheap and annoying. Just when you think the show has some balls, it pulls a “sike” and then flips back to the status quo, usually). The space arc was simultaneously interesting and also not, with a lot of predictable plot threads, but at least we got more locations  than the same two nocturnal New York streets all the time.

The ending though was super weird. The other turtles then went into space and probably died or some shit, because they never show up again and also the Fugitoid’s head is alive in orbit, but whatever, no time for that because we have to go back, for the 50th time, to the Foot!

The plot has no time to unfold because the plot needs to happen.

Do you ever think the writers squabbled a lot? It kind of feels like a lot of them wanted to do their own thing and then someone else meddled with that and then we got a patchwork of unconnected threads, left loose and dangling.

I was surprised when we got some buildup to April’s growing dependence on her alien crystal and even one episode dealing with its powers before we got to the episode dealing with the crystal’s effects on her. That sort of nuanced pacing was new. I was also initially very sure that this subplot would only find its payoff in the season finale or half season finale, like most other plot threads usually did, but no, it got its own separate episode.

Yes, they went all Dark Phoenix, but the ending was super anticlimactic, because April killed Donnie and then someone reminded her of it and she felt bad, so she stopped being possessed by evil. They fucked up on the home stretch, but they tried.

I never liked the time travel episodes with Renet much, they felt weirdly intrusive and adding nothing new to the plot. It felt like the first one only happened so we could meet Tang Shen before she died and that didn’t add a whole lot of anything. It confirmed things we already knew and introduced Mikey’s love interest and that was that.

The show tried to do a thing about anti-mutant racism once, but it sure is a good thing that the only people racist against mutants were the mafia, so we don’t have to worry about making a nuanced take here. They could have done something really interesting, but then went for simple black-and-white-morality instead.

My favorite episode was when the boys played Dungeons and Dragons with a sparrow mutant.

The worst part of the show though was its fifth season. First it seemed like it would just continue from where the fourth season had left off with Shredder being revived - because like a good villain, or herpes, Shredder always comes back - by the worst looking dragon I have ever seen in my entire life, but then that arc surprisingly ended after four episodes, shocking me to my core. Almost as shocking as Donnie almost killing a guy, but then deciding not do at the very last second. Again, feels like they could have done more here, but then they didn’t.

The fifth season started with two arcs that seemed to tie up loose plot threads, like Shredder’s revival and the bug alien guy I could have sworn died when he was yeeted out of an airlock coming back to enact his grim revenge, all so Raph’s girlfriend could live on the same planet as him and then never appear on the show ever again. Also Mikey died and his brothers were sad for five seconds before going about their business and then he came back with superpowers and then he conveniently lost them at the end of the episode, because the plot doesn’t have time for things that are emotional or interesting. Then there was that time the writers were like “What if we made Yojimbo, but with anthropromorphic animals and also the turtles are there” and it existed and the Turtles added very few things to the story and then went back to their dimension and never talked about it ever again. Or the time they said “what if we made Mad Max and also everything was terrible” and so they did and Leo became a hulked up war criminal but everyone forgave him because he wasn’t himself but immediately snapped out of it after seeing his brothers and Raphael was on steroids and Donnie became a robot in what I assume was a reference to the comics where he died and became a robot and also Donnie ended up being the only one whose body died, but considering what became of his brothers, he was probably the best off? And Raph had amnesia just so he could say he had amnesia and it didn’t actually factor into the plot once because he immediately recognized Mikey. I don’t know, I hated that special.

But at least it gave me emotions. The best part of the “that time travel demon is back and trying to monster mash” arc was when I remembered that I could browse tumblr on my phone while it was on and then I didn’t bore myself to death and also didn’t miss anything of value.

The series finale was fine. Nothing to write home about, but perfectly fine, even though the show threw an awful lot of shade at the 1987 version.

I feel like the most jarring thing about the fifth season was that the show spent four seasons going out of its way to present itself as something with a cohesive narrative and a plot that goes on and on and then we get these disjointed stories, some of which have absolutely nothing to do with the story at all. Just the writers throwing some idea at a wall to see what sticks because they either didn’t have any ideas anymore, or too many, but the end result wasn’t great and I’ll recommend newcomers to stop after the fourth season, because for real.

Tiger Claw existed and he was infuriatingly capable and powerful and then his sister chopped off his arm and then he got a robot arm and that was it forever. I don’t know, some episodes felt more pointless than others, but some managed to be fun or interesting and some just added something they thought was fun and it ended up never mattering again. 

Some characters disappeared randomly, like the dove guy and I don’t care enough to ask what happened there.

Karai’s mutation being reversed off-screen was super bizarre. Sure, her being able to change at will as metal as heck, but it felt weird and incomplete and like I missed an episode. Maybe I did. It was also infuriating how her venom was a plot point in one episode and never brought up again after that.

Outside of that, I don’t have much insight to offer. Other people already exlained how the fight scenes, while nice, are not very accurate, especially the bo staff moves, or how the show is very dark, not in tone, but in actual absence of light and lots of greyscales or how most characters have singular traits rather than fleshed out personalities, especially the supporting cast. How there isn’t a lot of diversity in the human characters and how figure-hugging a lot of April’s and Karai’s clothing is (shoutout to April’s yellow shirt, it’s uncomfortable to look at, cheers) or how the female characters are frequently damselled.

I liked when the animation added personality to the characters because the writing sure didn’t think it had time for that.

All in all, it’s a mixed bag for me. It’s a fine show to watch if you have the time and it’s not all bad and I can see why people enjoy it, but it’s not for me. I liked some episodes enough to watch again, but I feel like in nine out of ten cases, I’ll opt to rewatch Rise instead because it has more of what I personally like, but I won’t think less of you if you enjoyed this version of the show. I’m not telling people that one version of the Turtles is superior to the other, just that I think it’s important to take off those rose-colored glasses and be critical of the things you consume every now and again.

But if you prefer plot-driven shows that can be surprisingly dark, you might enjoy this. Or you could watch Avatar, because it has that as well as three-dimensional characters and better worldbuilding.

Thank you for reading my way-too-long thoughts about an animated kid’s show.

[terramythos]

TerraMythos' 2020 Reading Challenge - Book 29 of 26

Title: The House in the Cerulean Sea (2020)

Author: TJ Klune

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Comedy, Romance, Found Family, LGBT Protagonist, Third-Person 

Rating: 10/10

Date Began: 10/13/2020

Date Finished: 10/18/2020

Linus Baker, a forty-year-old caseworker for the Department in Charge of Magical Youth (DICOMY), lives a solitary and mundane life. But when he’s summoned by Extremely Upper Management and given a top-secret case, everything changes. Linus is sent to the classified Marsyas Island and tasked with investigating an orphanage housing six dangerous magical children-- including the Antichrist. He is to live among the residents for one month, record his observations, and report back to the organization. No more, no less. 

The master of the house, Arthur Parnassus, is a mysterious and enigmatic man. But Linus soon learns that Arthur will do anything to protect his wards. As Linus grows closer to Arthur and the children, a secret from the past and prejudice of the present threaten to destroy the orphanage and their way of life. Linus must decide if he can abandon the world he knows in order to help the ones that need it the most. 

"Fire and ash!” Lucy bellowed as he paced back and forth. “Death and destruction! I, the harbinger of calamity will bring pestilence and plague to the people of this world. The blood of the innocents will sustain me, and you will all fall to your knees in benediction as I am your god.” 

He bowed. 

The children and Mr. Parnassus clapped politely. Theodore chirped and spun in a circle. 

Linus gaped. 

“That was a lovely story, Lucy,” Mr. Parnassus said. “I especially liked your use of metaphors. Keep in mind that pestilence and plague are technically the same thing, so it did get a little repetitious at the end, but other than that, quite impressive. Well done.” 

Minor spoilers and content warning(s) under the cut. 

Content warnings for the book: Semi-detailed discussions of child abuse and trauma. Internalized fatphobia (challenged). Structural discrimination, and hatred/prejudice associated with that, some of it internalized. 

I'm going to have a hard time reviewing this book, because it was so goddamn good I don’t think I’ll do it justice in a few short paragraphs. So here’s the fast version: The House in the Cerulean Sea was a fucking delight to read from the first page. It’s full of genuine humor, magic, and charm, while being just this side of heart-wrenching. Though geared toward adults, it’s the first novel I’ve read in a long time that captures that childlike enthusiasm I used to have when reading a good fantasy book. It takes place in a world with magic (obviously), but it’s 98% character-driven. Both the main plot and the (queer!) romantic subplot are woven together so well that neither feel tacked on or lacking. The found family hit me in the emotions again and again and again. I read books out loud, and I spent the last third of this book struggling because I kept fucking crying and having to take regular breaks before continuing. And then I went through the whole book to find a good quote for this review and ended up fucking crying again. So yeah. 

Ok. Got that off my chest. Usually in these reviews I talk about what I liked and then what didn't work for me or confused me. The good news (?) is I have zero complaints or critiques on this one. So you just get to hear me gushing about it for a while.  

Since this is a character-driven book that’s where I’ll start. Linus Baker, the protagonist, is great. Let me just say I love speculative fiction books starring older characters. At forty, Linus isn’t old, but it feels like the majority of spec fic stars people under thirty. Linus is also a conspicuously ordinary guy; prim and proper to a fault, no magic, oblivious in many ways (including to his own loneliness), but with a hidden sense of justice and protectiveness for people that comes out more and more. His development over the course of the novel and how much he grows to love and care for the other characters is just so good. The writing draws attention to this through repeated phrases and jokes one doesn’t expect to make a comeback (more on that later). Seeing him come out of his shell and stand up for what’s right is cathartic as hell. As a side note, it’s also nice to have a fat protagonist who struggles with his self-image but gets warm affirmation and support from his family and love interest. 

Arthur Parnassus, the deuteragonist and said love interest, is more of an enigma. A lot of his motivation and behavior makes sense once you get his Tragic Backstory (TM), and I think this will be a fun book to reread based on that. I picked up on some of it before the reveal, but not everything. But without spoiling it, I do love seeing an older (mid-forties) father figure who would do literally anything to make sure the children on the island have the care and love they need. Seeing his patient love and acceptance of them tugs my heartstrings. Maybe I’m a bit of a sap. Linus and Arthur’s obvious mutual crush on each other is also really cute, okay. There’s something about older queer people finding love that makes me smile. 

And the children are great too, of course. I really liked each of them and thought they were all unique and interesting. My favorites are probably Lucy the six-year-old Antichrist, Sal the were-Pomeranian (his arc just really hit home for me), and Talia the gnome. They all have such distinct and fun personalities, and seeing them interact is great and often hilarious. I’m not very paternal, but I love seeing children with sad/abusive pasts blossom into their best selves with love, guidance, and support. It’s uh, a little personal. I’d be remiss not to mention Zoe, the resident island sprite, who brings a whole lot of personality and rounds off the group. 

When I say the story is character-driven, I mean it. While a fantasy novel, there’s not any significant violence or action in the story (except for maybe one scene if you squint). The House in the Cerulean Sea is carried by its characters, interactions, and worldbuilding. The humor and inherent charm helps too -- and manages to do so without ever feeling trite. I can’t help but admire that. I was never bored; I honestly enjoyed every page because I liked the characters so much. Not to say there isn’t an overarching conflict with the whole DICOMY thing, but most of the focus is Linus struggling and coming to terms with his discoveries-- about the others and himself, and how he can make a difference on a grand scale. To me that kind of stuff is captivating. And boy does seeing someone find the place they belong get me. As I said, found family is a big thing in this book. 

Aside from that, the writing is just super; it literally had me laughing from the first page. I can’t believe the fucking lemur joke came back at the end, too. But on that subject, I love that this book utilizes recurring jokes and phrases to show Linus’ character development. In particular, “see something, say something” and “don’t you wish you were here?” have VERY specific meanings to Linus at the beginning of the story, and over time transform into the polar opposite. I’m  holding myself back because I don’t want to spoil shit, but if you read it you’ll see what I mean. There’s also a lot of meaningful callbacks to certain dialogue earlier in the story and I eat that kind of stuff up. But even small details, like the early quip about Linus forgetting his umbrella, come back to deliver an emotional gutpunch near the end. So thanks for that, Mr. Klune. 

The book really takes a turn in the second half of the story, which is a tad darker. Avoiding the Actual Spoilers, this is where prejudice and hatred of the outside world become a bigger part of the story. We learn what’s really at stake, and that this wonderful found family in the first half is threatened by a world that hates and fears them. Boy does that shit get emotional REAL quick. Yes the allegory is obvious. No, that’s not a bad thing. Ultimately, The House in the Cerulean Sea becomes a story about love, hope, and change; and boy does that shit strike my gay little heart right where it hurts. 

If you’re looking for a (literal) magical pick-me-up (ignore my comment about crying a whole lot) with INTENSE found family vibes and a side helping of queer mlm romance, dear God read The House in the Cerulean Sea. I don’t think I did it justice in this review; just trust me, it’s real good. My only complaint is that it ends; I want more, damn it! 

[headoverjojo]

Hello! 🍒 We’re glad that you have opened your requests! 🥰 Can we have a scenario, please? 🥺👉👈 For two people: Giorno and Josuke with their girlfriends (The boys have grown up). This pairs can see each other in Morioh-Cho’s cafe or something like that, and Josuke and the girl say that she is pregnant! Then Giorno and his girlfriend can make a conversation about their children... I hope that this description will be interesting for you! Thank you again! (K&S ❤️)

Aaaah helloooo :3 Awwwww, so cute and fluffy and tender :,) I loved it! Aaand... I’ve used your ocs’ names, Karina and Sophie, for the girls. I hope you don’t mind it! And I hope you’ll enjoy the scenario :3

Josuke Higashikata and his girlfriend meet with Giorno Giovanna and his girlfriend and Josuke and his girlfriend announce they’re going to be parents

(Under the cut for length!)

Among all the members of his new family -god, it was still strange to think that he, who had always been alone, now had not only a big family, but also a wonderful girlfriend and loyal friends-, his favourite was, without doubt, his cousin -or nephew? He didn’t even want to dig deep into the Joestar’s weird family tree- Josuke. First of all, both were Japanese; even if Giorno was grown mostly in Italy, he still remembered Japan and Japanese, thanks to his mother -and this was maybe the only right thing she had ever done in her life- who spoke Japanese to him even when they already lived in Italy. Second, Josuke was just few years older than Giorno, and this made them the younger Joestar boys in the family; their stands were even pretty similar in their basic powers: healing and creating life. Giorno had been incredibly fascinated by Crazy Diamond’s ability, and he and Gold Experience seemed to get along pretty well.

But, mostly, he liked Josuke’s character. Josuke was warm and welcoming, always ready to laugh and to defend the people he loved; he was also incredibly stubborn and, especially concerning his hairstyle, touchy, but it was nothing compared to the men Giorno had to meet on daily basis, as Don of Passione. Giorno had felt welcomed since the first moment he had met his cousin. The fact that Josuke had the reputation of being a delinquent just made him even more likeable. Of course it was an exaggeration; Josuke had a heart of gold and was the most tender and sweet boy around, a giant teddy-bear, especially in his girlfriend’s hands. Only his appearance and brash behaviour made him seem a delinquent, but nothing else.

One more thing that delighted Giorno was that his girlfriend and Josuke’s had grown incredibly close. They were like sisters! They called each other every day, they tried to see each other -bringing their respective boyfriends, of course; they knew how happy they were to see each other- as much as they could… like that time. Josuke’s girlfriend, Sophie, had invited Giorno and his girlfriend, Karina, to spend a nice weekend together. It was the Golden Week, in Japan, so both her and Josuke had plenty of time to spend with their favourite relatives. Of course both Giorno and Karina jumped on the first plane to Japan; both were so eager to see Josuke and Sophie again!

And so here they were, in Morioh-Cho, walking to their usual meeting point, the Morioh Cafè. Giorno smiled, looking at his girlfriend, at the radiant joy in her eyes; he lived to see her like this. He would have stolen the moon and given it to her, if this would have made her smile.

“Oh, here they are! Josuke, Sophie! Hi!” she exclaimed, lifting her arm and waving her hand, when she spotted the two near the Cafè. They turned around and their big smile were visible even if Giorno and Karina were still a bit far. Giorno felt his heart filling with happiness, and he almost wanted to run toward them. He was so happy to see them again, after the last New Year’s Eve!

“Where’s my favourite cousin?!” Josuke laughed, going to hug tightly his way thinner cousin, patting his shoulder. Giorno felt the air being knocked out his chest, but he just laughed, hugging back Josuke. All in all, he liked his cousin’s bear hugs! Karina and Sophie were hugging too, already chatting and giggling. It really was like not even a day had passed since their last meeting; no awkwardness, no needing of a bit of time to warm up again. They were so close they didn’t need it!

After few more greetings, the little group sat down at a small round table and, after ordering a coffee -Sophie, instead, opted for a fruit juice-, they finally had some time to chat peacefully.

Both Giorno and Karina, however, had noticed something strange in Josuke and Sophie. Josuke was literally vibing, like he was trying to restrain something with an immense effort, and Sophie seemed not to be able to stop smiling, especially when she looked at her boyfriend. In the end, she giggled, gently patting his arm.

“C’mon, tell them, Jo.” Josuke sighed in relief, when his girlfriend finally allowed him to reveal the secret he was dying to say, and a big smile graced his face, literally lightening it up.

“Oh, thank you! So… you are the first ones to know it. Brace yourselves… I and Sophie are going to be parents!!” Karina squealed and rushed to hug Sophie again, congratulating her and holding her hands, excited. That was an incredible news!!

“Haruno… you have experience with kids, so, like… how is it? To… be a father?” Josuke asked, when Giorno congratulated him. Giorno’s face softened, when he recognized on Josuke’s face the same worry and excitement he had felt when he and Karina had found out she was pregnant for the first time. It wasn’t something he was going to forget any soon…

“It’s tiring. A child becomes… your entire life. All your time is for them. They become the central focus of your days, and, well… sometimes it’s not easy. Parenting is a full-time job, with no holidays or sick days. But…- a gentle smile bent his lips, when the memories of his and Karina’s children filled his mind, their little blonde and black heads, their big eyes full of wonder and curiosity -it’s also wonderful. I’m sure you’ll be an incredible father, Josuke. Maybe, some days, you’ll feel tired and like you’re about to break down. It’s ok. You’re human, and you too have your limits. But, as much as this could happen, you’ll also feel blessed every time your kid smiles at you. Their happiness will be yours, their safety will be your priority. There isn’t a day I spend without feeling grateful and blessed for having my children. I’m sure it’ll be the same for you.” he said, encouraging. Josuke took a deep sigh, nodding, with his eyes closed.

“I am, well… a bit scared. You know, to… make mistakes. What if they’ll hate me? What if… I won’t be a good father?” Josuke whispered, as if he had been afraid to make his fears come true if he had spoken loud. Giorno closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the sheer panic that he too had felt, that time. To be fair, he had been scared even the second time.

“It’s normal to be scared. And… you’ll learn, Josuke. Unfortunately there isn’t any textbook for perfect parents; it’s something you have to learn while doing it. But, you know… many things are already encoded in you, and the fact that you doubt yourself, that you are not arrogantly sure you’ll be the perfect father makes me believe you’ll actually be a really good father. You’ll do your best, Josuke. Listen to your kid, try to understand them and not to put them down. You know… they know when their parents listen to them for real. It’s really important to them. If you listen to them, you’ll know what you have to do to make them happy.” Giorno explained, nodding lightly. Josuke felt like a weight had just been removed from his heart. He was feeling way more relaxed, now… he was happy Giorno was here. He was happy his cousin could understand him.

“Well then… I and Sophie were wondering, well…” Josuke gently held Sophie’s hand, smiling at her. Sophie, who had just had a similar talk with Karina, held his hand back, smiling, and turned to her beloved friends. The second surprise was coming!

“We’d like you to be our child’s godfather and godmother, if you want to.” Giorno’s heart skipped a beat, while Karina covered her mouth, surprised and moved. It was… it was an immense honor…

“Yes… yes, of course! Of course we want to, oh my god…” she said, hugging again Sophie, with a teary smile. Who would have guessed that their short holiday in Morioh would have been like this…

They couldn’t imagine anything better than this.

[sethrine-writes]

Daughter of a Devil - Ch. 16

Main Characters:  Father!Dante & Daughter!Reader

Words:  2343

Warnings:  Fancy stuff, Fluff, Father-Daughter Dancing

Story Summary: Being a parent wasn’t easy, nor was there such thing as being perfect at it. Good news for Dante, seeing as how he doesn’t have the slightest idea in hell what to do with a child. Sometimes, he was certain that fighting off a horde of demons was a far better match than keeping up with his own daughter. Well, at least he wasn’t going down without a fight.

A/N:  Thank you guys so much for all the warm welcomes back into this series! I’m so glad you guys are still interested in this lovely little universe. Here’s another chapter, just for you kind souls! Some nice fluff. Enjoy!

------

Chapter 16 - When the Devils Dance (16 yrs.)

You had honestly not expected to see both Lady and Trish waiting for you as soon as you entered the shop. In fact, their presence was a little irking, seeing as how your father had said they were on some sort of mission of their own a few cities away. Either he was lying, or they were really fast; the former sounded much more fitting for this particular situation.

“Hey Trish…Lady,” you said with a nod in greeting, eyeing the smiling women suspiciously. Sure, you were covered in dirt and muck and God-knows-what else from your earlier assignment of taking care of some small-fry demons (damn things were fast and kept tripping you up), but the mischievous grins sprouting on their faces didn’t look like the type of reaction appropriate for your disheveled appearance.

“Have you guys seen Dad?”

“Dante’s a bit…tied up at the moment,” Lady answered, her smile never wavering. You had a feeling her statement was far more truth than it should have been.

“Right. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m just gonna go…that way, so - son of a bitch!”

You had just turned toward the kitchen and had taken a few steps when Trish had suddenly appeared before you, arms crossed just below her breasts and hip cocked to one side. Whatever her smile meant, you had a strange feeling that you were involved.

“I’m afraid there’s just no time for you to wander about. We have to get you ready!”

You gave the blonde she-demon a very strange look.

“R-ready? Ready for wha-“

“Come on, now, upstairs for a shower.”

“Wait…hey!”

You continued to shout and curse the whole way upstairs as Trish pushed you along, already pulling at your clothes to quicken the process. By the time you were actually in the bathroom, you were almost completely naked.

“Alright, wash your hair, shave those legs, and brush your teeth. You’ve got fifteen minutes to finish!”

You sputtered at the ridiculous amount of time you were given to do all of what she was asking, especially with how dirty you had gotten from your mission. You were just about to tell her off, too, when you turned and found she was no longer in the bathroom with you.

“Remember, fifteen minutes!”

“Are you guys crazy?!”

“Goodness, you’re right…better make it ten!”

You sighed heavily as you finished undressing and climbed into the bathtub for a quick shower. Whatever those two had planned, you were being forced to go along with it. You decided you might as well go along with the ride and hoped that whatever they were going to do with you didn’t hurt too badly in the end.

---

You may have just started out as a demon hunter, much like your father, but you had definitely already faced some hard challenges, had come home with some bruises and bleeding wounds that would soon scar over - much slower than Dante’s own almost instant healing, but hey, they would make for some interesting stories. 

In that regard, you wished you were fighting Sparda, himself, then being dolled up by the two women doting over you at that moment. Truly, you had to be in some sort of hell-dimension. Maybe you had died on that mission, and this was your punishment.

“Just hold still!”

“Damnit, stop pulling on my hair!”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“I am not!”

You continued to argue and struggle against both Lady and Trish, cringing at makeup brushes and coughing at the excessive amount of hairspray being used to keep your hair in place. It felt between a lifetime and probably about ten minutes for them to finish, everything calming rather suddenly as both women ooed and awed at their work.

You were turned abruptly to look into the full length mirror hanging on your wall, your disgruntled expression smoothing over almost immediately at your made-up visage.

“I look…so different.”

“Well, not really,” Lady explained, coming up behind you and placing her hand on your shoulder. “You’re just a little spruced up, is all. You’re still the same rough, difficult, badmouthed, daughter of a devil that we all know and love.”

You gave a huff of a laugh as Lady pat at your shoulder reassuringly and made her way to your closet as Trish excused herself with the promise of having Dante ready.

“One last thing, and then you can meet your dad downstairs.”

“Was he in on this whole thing, too?”

Lady gave you a look, one you recognized as twisted in the most delightful way. It was safe to say that Dante had gotten the same treatment as you.

You definitely still had questions, but they were answered rather abruptly when Lady presented you with a full-length dress, a gown only seen at high school proms or those fancy parties and dances-

Everything was starting to make sense. You weren’t sure if you had ever been so nervous as you were at that moment.

---

Every year for the past fifty-seven or so years, the local park held an annual formal spring dance that allowed all ages to attend. It was sort of like a prom, but with the addition of small children and elderly couples dressed up nicely in frilly outfits joining in on all the festivities. It was a chance for everyone to dress up for one night and make themselves feel beautiful as well as have fun with close friends and family members.

The park itself was lit up with lights stuck in trees and bushes throughout the whole area. There was a big makeshift dance floor laid out along the less grooved area of grass in the middle of the park, and several tables of refreshments and tasty treats were set out. Off to the side of the large expanse set aside for dancing was the music-mixer table where two DJs were stationed and playing a variety of music.

Many people from around the city were present, dressed to impress, and despite the large crowd, you were having a blast.

You weren’t even sure why you had been so nervous, in the first place, and even though the whole process of being dressed up wasn’t much your style, you were happy Lady and Trish had sprung such a little surprise on both you and your father.

Already, you had been asked to dance by several sharply dressed young men, all of which you accepted. You were surprised that Dante had actually allowed you to do such a thing, especially with the way he was when you so much as mentioned a guy you talked to on a normal, friendly basis. His focus tonight was to make you happy, however, and if you were happy dancing with all the men that showed up that night, then so be it.

At one point, as you were sitting down to take a small break and talking with your father on some of the weird and rather hilarious dance moves a large group was pulling off, a small boy around the age of five had come up to you with the sweetest little face. He then held up a flower he had picked just off to the side of the dance floor and asked if you would dance with him. It was the single most sweetest thing you had ever witnessed, and with a smile of your own (and a hardy laugh from your father) you accepted and allowed the tyke to lead you on the dance floor for two songs.

Before long, the DJs were beginning to dedicate the dances for specialty couples, such as elder couples, younger couples, just the kids, and so on. After about four or five dances, there was one that was for “Fathers and Daughters,” quite similar to the one some traditional weddings still did.

“Looks like it’s our turn to tear up the dance floor, Squirt,” Dante said with a short waggle of his brows, standing and holding out his arm for you to take.

You shook your head at his antics, but took his arm with a smile and let him lead you to the middle of the dance floor along with the other fathers and daughters gathering around.

The song itself was a very lovely melody, one that you were familiar with and enjoyed listening to in your free time. Instead of stepping to a more complicated dance routine, as you had first expected Dante to lead you into, you and your father both fell in-step to a gentle sway that went perfectly with the tune. One of your hands rested comfortably in his as the other took purchase on his shoulder, right above where you rested your head.

You were aware of several parents with cameras snapping a quick photo or two around you, but you didn’t mind much. There was almost a guarantee you’d be gifted with a photo of the moment by some mysterious means, of which you were more than okay with.

“So, how’d you like the surprise?”

You laughed a little and pulled back to look at your father fully.

Truth be told, Dante cleaned up really good, with his longer hair slicked back in a nice style and his face clean-shaven. He’d donned a nicer shirt for the occasion with a tie that matched the color of your dress and a newer, black coat, dark jeans and his usual dusty boots cleaned up to an almost decent shine polishing off the ensemble. He looked younger, rugged, even, in a nice way. You could definitely see the charm in his look, and it was no wonder why your mother had been so smitten with him when they first met.

“So, you did have a hand in it,” you accused in a playful tone, earning an equally playful smirk from your father.

“I may have mentioned something to the ladies, though all the planning and torture was their doing, I’m afraid.”

“No kidding,” you huffed, leaning back against his chest. “It was a little sudden, and too much hairspray was involved, but it was nice. This is nice. Oh, I was wondering, did Lady and Trish really have you tied up?”

Your father gave a heavy sigh, and laughter escaped your lips. Dante may have been one of the most difficult men you knew, but Lady was much more stubborn and hell-bent on anything she set her mind to, with Trish more than happy to join along in the mayhem. You were sure that if they wanted to put your father in a bright orange dress with ruffles and make him do the Macarena, they’d have him dancing the night away by that evening.

“Well, I’m glad you did it. You know, for me; I don’t think I’ve had this much fun since shooting off the eyes of that limb-sprouting demon a couple months back.”

“Yeah, that was one hell of a treat, wasn’t it? Lady was so pissed after that mission!”

You both began laughing as you remembered quite well the verbal thrashing the demon hunter had given Dante for taking his sweet time in taking care of business. You had been given the same thrashing, though it wasn’t nearly as harsh as the one your father had to endure.

Before long, the song came to an end which gave way to many cheers from the bystanders watching the fathers and daughters dance. You and Dante stopped in the middle of the dance floor, smiling at each other. You then reached around him and pulled him to you in a warm hug, feeling his much stronger arms wrap around you securely to return the gesture.

“Dad, I know I don’t say it often enough, but…thanks, for everything you do for me.”

“Squirt-”

Whatever Dante was about to say was interrupted by a loud, screeching noise coming from the sky. You both looked up into the darkness to find a large group of bird-like creatures swooping down and startling the people in the park, attempting to scramble the mass and section them off. Many began screaming and running around in hopes of finding a way to escape the strange sight, just as the demons were expecting, most likely.

“Let’s go,” Dante said, and just like that he was pulling you along by the arm while reaching inside his coat and pulling out what looked like Ivory to fire several shots at the circling demons. Doing so only served to do two things: make the demons angrier and startle the crowd even more.

People were tripping here and there as the winged creatures began to swoop lower to pull a human or two up a small ways before letting them drop back down. In a way, they were teasing them, playing with their meal, so to speak.

At one point, one of the bird-like demons came too close to you and had pulled at the back of your dress, ripping several seams and pulling at the fabric at the bottom until several pieces of it hung from your form.

You looked back at the tattered skirt of the dress, a burning sort of anger quickly seeping into your veins.

As your father reached within his coat once more to retrieve Ebony, you tore the remaining fabric from the bottom up to your knee in order to move around easier, revealing the glittering heels you wore as well as your gun, Rein, strapped carefully to your lower thigh. You pulled the weapon from its holster against your skin and began firing your own shots into the air at the swarming horde, all but roaring with the anger building inside you.

“You damn pterodactyls ruined my dress and one of the best nights of my life! I’ll send all of you back to hell!”

Dante stopped momentarily in his shooting to watch you go to town on the flying creatures, almost swearing he could see red in your gaze.

God, but you looked like your mother. You’d grown up into such a lovely young woman - damn near brought a tear to his eye.

[the-creeping-shadow]

Shade’s OCs

Here is a list with all OCs I have so far, including fandom and non-fandom OCs. Some of these might appear new to you (if you have been following me for a while); some might seem familiar. I offer this as a reference, but also as a way to talk about characters a bit. No facts are set in stone; questions and such are always welcome ^^

I’ll start with the ones I’ve already introduced here.

Fandom OCs/Fan characters

Anna Haas My Outlast fan character who exists in an AU based on The Murkoff Account. The result of the question “what if the baby was real?” that appeared in my head one day, Anna exists in several iterations depending on several factors.

Her introduction into the world was more than a little messy; the assault on her mother, Michelle, resulted in Anna being born way too early and spending the first months of her existence in NICU. Obviously she survived the whole ordeal. Under the care of her mother Anna turned into an overall friendly and optimistic child who is very close to her parent, albeit often worried about her given the trauma Michelle endured (which she tries to hide in front of Anna, but the psychological consequences still show up).  She’s a headstrong person, determined to pursue any goal she sets for herself, and has a certain tendency to want to take on a leading role in whatever project or even game she is involved in. These traits carry over when she grows up. The past of her family very much interests her even if the truth about her father and her parents’ involvement in Mt. Massive end up taking a toll on her world perception. She becomes more reserved, perhaps even more irritable in certain aspects after the “revelation”, but sets on a quest to find out what exactly ended up happening to her father with a goal to find disclosure and a peace of mind - a dangerous endeavour perhaps, but one she considers worth the risk. The outcome of all this will ultimately depend on two major variables in her story...

Kyniera the Imp A DOOM OC heavily inspired by the codex entries in 2016 and various headcanons I developed about the species’ biology. Not entirely compliant with the lore presented in DOOM Eternal, as she was created before the new game came out; so to some degree she might exist in some AU as well.

A determined survivalist long used to the harsh ways of Hell that are not that much friendlier to demons than they are to any other life forms (especially so if you are a low-ranked Imp - considered nothing more than cannon fodder), Kyniera is an Imp who has gathered enough experience and a certain amount of caution as a result to survive longer than many others of her breed. This, coupled with a growing sense of self-awareness that is present in older Imps only, makes her suitable to take the role of pack leader in any Imp group she finds herself in. If not leader, then at least someone who is confident enough to influence group decisions, especially when it comes to hunting. An unfortunate event has resulted in her, among other lower beasts, being captured by higher-ranking demons and carried off to a combat arena in the depths of Hell to fight against oftentimes stronger opponents for the sheer amusement of Hell denizens but also to test the physical prowess of the members of Hell’s armies, including herself. Kyniera, much to everyone’s surprise perhaps, has proven to be a particularly resilient Imp, showing good knowledge of how to use her innate fire ability and agility to her advantage, becoming somewhat of a “pet” in the arena. Not necessarily a good thing for the Imp as the arena masters and spectators were probably more curious to see how long she will prevail mentally, out of sheer sadistic delight. However, one losing fight convinces her to turn tail and run eventually - and she manages to escape the arena, overcoming her own fears. With a growing hatred towards the “higher-ups” and an unwillingness to die for anyone, Kyniera wishes to distance herself from all Hell politicking and solely focus her efforts on survival and hunting alone. An endeavour that may not come easy as she still ends up getting caught in the crossfire of intra-Hell conflicts between warring factions which ultimately sends her down a path that just may lead to a particular metamorphosis...

Non-fandom OCs

Synth Rex Synth is an old and powerful daemon lord* who rules over an entire realm. He appears to be a cheerful and playful person who interprets almost everything as a game of sorts. Whatever is said or even done to him, Synth will keep smiling and talking in a friendly and ofttimes jolly way. This demeanour keeps showing even if Synth is experiencing negative emotions - as a way to keep up his composure, but also as a way to “troll” people, especially so if they appear more hostile. With his mindset mostly revolving around the maintenance of his realm, Synth is willing to do a lot of things to ensure the prosperity of it.  He can be described as a scholar of sorts since he enjoys reading and travelling throughout the multiverse to learn and explore different dimensions, the people, cultures etc. It's one of the more effective ways for Synth to occupy himself and prevent boredom. Other occupations may be training, alchemy, and watching individuals and events having managed to pique his interest, especially if they feature revenge. Unlike my fandom OCs, there is no set storyline for this universe. It’s more of an open world revolving around Synth’s realm and his family as well.

Elizabeth Morgan Elizabeth is a fairly old and mighty daemon and Synth's lover. Elizabeth is what one can describe as a willful and self-confident woman who will not let others influence her in a negative way or push her around. Charming, elegant, and equipped with experience collected over 712 years of her life, Elizabeth prefers to use social skills to go about many matters. This is further helped by her mind control abilities which she can use quite deftly, provided an entity is not more powerful than her. She will often meet others with an overall pleasant demeanour, polite, respectful, and decent, simultaneously confident and not afraid of speaking her mind. Greater slights against her or her family will leave a bitter taste in her mouth and will not be forgotten so easily. As a daemon, Elizabeth has no inhibitions about using her mind control abilities to further her goals. She can be a manipulative person who likes to use a person's mental weak points to convince them of acting or thinking in a way benefiting her. When talking proves to be futile, Elizabeth is still capable of defending herself and will not hesitate to do so: like others of her species, she possesses enhanced strength and the ability to shapeshift into a fearsome daemon form.

Shannon Rex [picture not yet available on Tumblr] Shannon is the first and eldest of Synth and Elizabeth's children. Shannon had had a shapeshifting "accident" at the age of three months, having transformed into an indescribable, amorphous shape which appears to be their daemon form, which significantly differs from the usual form. Ever since, Shannon has to struggle with shapeshifting slips a lot, though their powers are getting better as time passes and they become an adult. Shannon is an introverted and reserved person, somewhat taciturn. Serious and determined, Shannon mostly occupies themselves with books and training and might not necessarily be a person who is in for the "silly" type of fun. Having been raised by a caring, but strict father who has set a firm schedule for his child and having been around their father's subordinates a lot, Shannon is disciplined and generally well-behaved. Due to their problems with the shapeshifting power and initially slow telekinesis, Shannon tends to be insecure about themselves, constantly questioning their worth and might. However, with frequent training units and being the offspring of a daemon lord, it might just be a matter of time until Shannon actually becomes powerful.

Cynthia Rex [picture not yet available on Tumblr] Cynthia is the second and youngest of Synth and Elizabeth's children. Cynthia is a happy and jolly six-year-old child (there is a huge age gap between the children), always curious and with a tendency to ask a lot of questions concerning how things work and what they are. She also has a bit of a mischievous streak and will attempt to play pranks once in a while. Close to her family, she is pretty much seldom seen anywhere away from a family member unless she decides to explore her father's castle on her own. Around strangers Cynthia becomes quiet and will cling to whatever family member is accompanying her at a time. As a child she is unaware of a lot of things existing in the multiverse and has a generally optimist attitude, though she knows not to trust people she does not know, which is mostly because of her family frequently telling her that she should not trust anyone outside of her family and her father's subordinates. Cynthia has recently begun undergoing training units in addition to lessons, which often leave her tired.

Thetis The result of my fascination with sharks, the desire to design a mermaid based on the great white shark, and depicting sharks in a positive light while maintaining the fact that they are (majestic) predators by nature.

Thetis is a very curious and inquisitive great white shark mermaid. While Thetis tends towards the introvert side of the spectrum, she is still open to talking with others, always willing to learn new things. She meets others with a friendly appearance and will not, contrary to what might be said about sharks and shark mermaids, seek any hostile intentions whatsoever as long as she is not agitated or hunting prey. Even though she has no inhibitions about killing other living things (specifically prey), she does so only for the sake of self-preservation and would scoff at others for "wasting" a kill, or put differently, for killing and harming other living things for any other reason than self-preservation. Still, Thetis does enjoy the thrill of the hunt itself and will speak rather openly about hunting if it ever comes to that. Depending on which universe she is set in, Thetis may dislike humans (or other humanoids, depending) for all the things they are doing to sharks and maybe even mermaids. However, she would never actively go against any unless the human provokes her intentionally.

Xenia Used to be a fan character of mine before I decided to rewrite her entire story and include her as a non-fandom OC in my own multiverse. As a result there are still gaps in her story, though her personality/concept remains similar.

An agent working under Synth Rex among his ranks. Xenia has endured an excruciating, unhappy childhood that left her permanently scarred - physically and mentally. An escape from her world, after she has exacted revenge on her tormentors, was offered by Lord Rex, who had become interested in her story, promising a better future for her. While Xenia was hesitant to take his offer to work for him first, she accepted it and ended up in a better position after all, as she perceives it. Still, her life has left her bitter, cynic, and mistrustful. While she tries to keep up a good relationship with her fellow agents, approaching her is still difficult as she prefers a solitary lifestyle, slow to trust anyone. Her manner of speech tends to be sarcastic often. Xenia belongs to an unspecified human-like species, possessing powerful telekinetic abilities that have developed and strengthened as she grew up. It was this power that allowed her to turn her "fate" over.

        *the depiction of the daemon might drastically differ from “canonical” mythological depictions in places. These characters exist in a multiverse created by me and thus adhere to lore created by myself.

[satan-chillin]

Parent-Teacher Meeting (PTM)

Summary: You’re the homeroom teacher of nine students, four of which happened to share the same family name of Winchester. You dubbed them as the Winchester Four, two pairs of siblings and paternal cousins. You were pretty interested to find out the kind of parents they have.  

Pairings: Established Destiel & SamWena/SamWitch

Characters: Reader (female), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena MacLeod (mentioned)

Note: Non-pairing reader, children drawings inside ;) 

Also available in Ao3

You straightened your skirt for what seemed like the tenth time within five minutes. 

 Not that you could be blamed for your nerves. It was the PTM, of course, and your first since becoming a kindergarten teacher. With the children, you were exactly in your element with their energeticness and rambunctiousness. The parents, however, were the uncharted territories. 

 Your first parent for the day was a nice young woman who happened to be a single parent of two boys, Connor and Marcus. You thanked her for her time and gave your appreciation after knowing she was also juggling three part-time jobs. Her kids were often the ones to be picked up a little past the dismissal, and after finding out her situation, you offered to keep watch for them until she could pick them up. She was delighted and was grateful while you didn’t mind the suggestion one bit since you tend to extend your stay after classes. Besides, it was also a chance for you to focus on improving her sons’ reading comprehension since it was your main concern.  

 You met both the parents of Alita, the quiet girl you have in class. You often found her sitting and coloring books in one corner and would encourage her to join the others during playtime. You would smile whenever she decided to join the rest on occasion and also understood that she was someone who frequently wanted time for herself. As a compromise, you often have her sit beside you while she was doing her coloring and the others playing. Her parents were alright, you supposed. A little snobbish, maybe, and clearly wanted Alita to be a more physically active child, but you did say you were doing your best and assured them Alita was outstanding the way she was.

 Your next parents were the lovely father and mother of the twin girls Lara and Mara. They were the oldest in your class and nigh inseparable which was a given, you thought. With their age, they were the maturest thinkers of the bunch and would help out with keeping the others in line. They were treated as the eldest sisters of most of the kids, and they both get along well with everyone. You told their parents that their daughters showed promising leadership qualities at their young age and pointed out their strongest points and the ones that needed improvements: Lara still struggled with the arithmetic while Mara was having problems with symbolic concepts. Both, however, were impressive with their grasp of the English language for their age. 

 You only have nine students in your class and after counting, you realized you already met the parents of five of them so far. The parents of the other four were yet to arrive and when you reviewed your list, you confirmed the students left. 

 The Winchester Four. 

 It was unexpected, but you recognized the eagerness in wanting to meet their parents. They were two pairs of siblings and both were paternal cousins, and, frankly, the oddest of the bunch. 

 Now, it wasn’t that they were weird, per se, though they did display peculiar qualities that could have been picked up from home. Nothing alarming, mind, and if anything, it made you curious as to what kind of people were raising the children—you were already leaning on the hipster-ish type of parents and given that it was already the 21st century, you weren’t certain if that should be impressive. 

 You have different backstories in your head like maybe they were kids of uber smart parents because heck, they have rudimentary knowledge in Latin, for god’s sake, while you struggled hard with that dead language during your college years; or maybe they were the nomad kind who would uproot the whole family to move on to the next location, which could explain the expansive knowledge on the geography the kids seemed to naturally have; or maybe they were absentee parents who just let their kids do their thing, making them—

 You blinked behind the window, your musing interrupted when you spotted a black ‘67 Impala in front of the school. You might have whistled there under your breath at what appeared to be a well-kept vehicle, though what made your eyebrow rise was the three men who exited it. 

 Were they… Were they law enforcement?

 You followed the three men with your eyes, thinking they were to walk to the building next to the school when they entered the school grounds instead. You quickly arranged your table and repositioned the chairs by the desk, and by the time you were done, there was a knock on the classroom door. 

 Oh, god, they were taller up close. 

 “Hi, how can I help you, officers?” you asked, trying not to sound nervous which you (and you thought most people as well) usually were around authorities. 

 The blond man smiled charmingly. “Sorry about the confusion, ma’am. We’re not here for work, we’re actually here for the PTM.” 

 “Oh. Oh! The PTM. Right,” you muttered, fumbling. “So, uh, for which students?” 

 “Winchesters,” the three of them simultaneously said. 

 All of them together. Wow. “Ookay. Have a seat here, sirs.” 

 There were only two chairs in front, and when you moved in to push another one, the man with the trenchcoat offered to do it instead and sat on it. 

 He was also the first one to ask, “Are Jimmy and John doing alright in school?”

 Straight to the point, this guy, you thought wryly as you adjusted your glasses. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. They’re great, actually. So you’re the parent of James and John then, Mr… Sorry, I think there will be a confusion here if I call you three Mr. Winchesters.”

 “Call me Cas,” said the man in the trenchcoat. 

 “Dean here,” said the blond one with a grin. “Cas and I are for the BJ brothers.”

 “I’m Sam,” said the tallest of the three as if the other two weren’t towering enough on their own. “I’m here for my kids Marybeth and Anthony.”

 “Well, I’m Y/N, their homeroom teacher,” you formally said once you wrapped your mind that, yes, these were the parents of the Winchester Four, and, yep, they were from law enforcement or something along that line of job. “The four kids are fast learners, by the way, and they’re friendly with the other children so we don’t really have an issue there, though there are some concerns that I personally want to bring up to you.”

 You reached for a drawer and pulled out a bunch of papers with drawings during the art time. You placed them face down on the desk and had the sudden urge to laugh at their seemingly curious and nervous reaction at the papers. 

 “Oh, no, don’t tell me they started drawing something disturbing. Like the serial killers did when they were young,” Dean said worriedly, frowning and the grin gone from his face. 

 “Did they draw a dead body, Ms. Y/N?” Cas asked grimly. 

 You sighed. “Nobody drew a dead body, sirs.” You pushed the drawings away for a moment. “Actually, before that, I have to ask something first. Jimmy told me once that he and John live in a cave with their older brother and their two dads. I don’t want to make assumptions here, Mr. Dean and Cas, but is it a metaphor for your living arrangements?”

 Dean looked rather affronted to have their home be called a cave. He opened his mouth to make a protest though Cas had beaten him to it. 

 “It is a cave in a child’s perspective,” Cas said. “It is not a cave. It is a bunker,” he said, addressing you. 

 “A large bunker with soft beds and a wide kitchen. If it’s going to be a cave, it better be the friggin’ Batcave!”

 You have no idea why Dean was defensive about his bunker, but you attributed it to the typical territorialism of men, something which you would probably never understand with your flaming lesbian flag. 

 “I’m sorry about him,” Sam interrupted with a sigh. “But, yeah, I think what my nephews called the cave is the bunker where they live in. It’s been with the family for generations and we inherited it from our grandfather. My wife and I moved out of the place so it’s just my brother there, Cas, and Jack during his sem breaks.”

 “I see,” you replied, unsure what to say to that further. You pushed the glasses up your nose once more. You cleared your throat. “I’m not asking to pry on where you decide to raise them. I guess I just want to resolve the mystery of this cave or something,” you admitted, assuring them with a slight smile. “There is also another question that I want to raise out of curiosity: where did they learn Latin?”

 “I think they might have got it from Cas and, often, from my wife.” Sam appeared to be positively glowing at the question.

 You knew it. Smart parents. “Oh. Cool. I mean, I guess it’s nice to encourage them at a young age. Might be handy in the future.” There were other non-dead languages the kids could learn, but to each their own, you supposed. 

 You pulled the eight drawings across the table. “As you know, we spend most of our day in art class. It’s to encourage kids to bring out their creativity and I gotta say, Bobby John and Benny James are… creative. So are Marybeth and Anthony,” you began positively. 

 There were plenty of drawings from the kids. First month in, your students already filled up the shelves. To remedy the lack of storage, you either post some of them or send them with the student once graded so they could showcase them at home. They were usually the drawings of sceneries, home life, their favorite holidays, and of family. Some showed promise in the pen and paper artistry, and the drawings helped you in figuring out their present state at home. 

 The drawings from the Winchester Four, barring the typical imagination exclusive of children, as usual, left you baffled. 

 You laid out the first paper from Marybeth Winchester. 

“I believe this is Mrs. Winchester, yes?” you asked, eyeing Sam. “What is she doing exactly?” 

 “Cooking,” Sam said simply as if that explained it. 

 Cas leaned close to study the drawing. “I think that is Rowena levitating the pans.” You stared at him. “She said she finds it tedious to cook and make the table without magic.”

 “Magic tricks!” Sam suddenly exclaimed. “Yeah, she often, uh, shows the kids what she learns from Youtube. I helped her set up this one with invisible strings. The kids like it.” 

 Dean rolled his eyes faintly at that as if saying ‘Really?’.

 “Right,” you deadpanned when you thought that was the best you could get. You believed that if you mentioned that Anthony and Marybeth told you that their Mom was a former queen—you thought there might be an instance before that they said she was a queen of Hell before she had them—you would get a completely unbelievable answer. “Magic. Cool.”

 The next drawing was from Marybeth’s brother, Anthony, and you have to admit, this one made you double-take. “This is from Anthony, and—is that a gun?” 

You pretended not to notice Sam paling a bit. Dean looked like he was stifling a laugh behind a cough. For some reason, he found it pretty funny. 

 You heard Sam sigh defeatedly. “Okay, that one’s my fault,” he said regretfully that you almost felt bad that you were interrogating him, but, hey, your student’s welfare first and foremost. If it has to do with Anthony witnessing his Dad at fieldwork, then it was something to be discussed. “I let him spend a night watching me play.”

 “Sorry?”

 “There’s this shooting game on PS4. I modeled my character after me—on-the-job me, I mean, with uniform and all. I kinda got addicted to it briefly and… you know.” 

 “And I thought I’m the irresponsible one,” Dean commented unhelpfully.

 “So it’s not Anthony watching you at work? I mean, you guys work at the side of the law, right? I understand your job isn't easy, but you know how it can also impact the children,” you said, expressing your concern. 

 For sure, they knew how it would be before they entered the family life, and they seemed to have taken your reminder quite well judging by the solemn nods you received in return. 

 To lighten the mood a bit, you showed Sam a joint drawing by Marybeth and Anthony. This one you intended for him to take home. It seemed that something he would like pinned up on the refrigerator. 

“Anthony and Marybeth shared in the class that their Papa is strong enough to lift them both at the same time,” you told Sam. “Marybeth insisted that they include their Mom since she said that Mrs. Winchester was actually behind the camera for this picture. Anthony eventually won the argument when he pointed out that they wouldn’t be any space for the message at the bottom,” you added fondly. “They said that they would just make their Mom a different drawing.”

 Sam seemed to have melted at the image, reverently staring at the drawing when you handed it to him. Dean and Cas simply smiled at Sam’s tender expression.  

 “Actually, there’s also a drawing here made by the four of them together,” you said, searching through the papers. “Bobby John and Benny James told me it’s their older brother Jack, which Anthony and Marybeth claimed their favorite cousin.”

 Dean huffed out a laugh. “Very minimal choices there.” 

You blinked. You remembered this one when you graded it. “Mr. Jack has… quite the set of eyes when angry,” you commented. 

 You just hoped that Jack wasn’t actually high with those red, blood-shot eyes. 

 “They captured Jack’s impressive set of eyes here,” Cas said with a small smile. “Jack got his expressive eyes from Kelly, his mother.”

 You didn’t mean to, but that Harry Potter meme about Snape telling Harry he had his mother’s eyes when the movie hardly bothered with the contact lenses entered your mind, unbidden. You suppressed a grin that nobody noticed. 

 “Jack’s a good kid,” Sam said. “He doesn’t get angry with the kids no matter how stubborn they are. He spoils them whenever he can.” He pointed at the ‘Angry Jack’. “That’s actually Jack being protective of them.”

 Well, nice to know the kids were looking up to a young adult as a good role model. 

 “You can keep it. Mr. Jack might want to take it as a gift,” you told them. Cas folded the paper and kept it. 

 Only four more drawings were left, and for the next one, you picked the one that made you curious about the way it was drawn. 

 “This was from Bobby John,” you told them, showing the drawing the boy told you what happened on his last birthday. 

“Bobby John told me this was you,” you said to Cas. “Um, what happened here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

 Cas’s eyes softened imperceptibly at the memory. “This was when we visited Japan to banish an old curse and put the vengeful spirit at peace.”

 You blinked once… twice… thrice. 

 ... Did you hear that right? 

 “He’s talking about that Japanese horror movie that we watched in Tokyo,” Dean explained hastily, much to Sam’s amusement and Cas’s confusion. “It’s uh—It’s about that cursed well where some girl was dumped in and she became a ghost wanting revenge.” 

 “Oh,” you said dumbly. “And she could walk through the walls?”

 “It’s a television,” Cas answered. For a moment, Dean looked nervous when he spoke. “Her death was caught on tape. The tape was a cursed object that anyone who watched it would die after the seventh day.” 

 “Wow.” You were a horror movie nut yourself, more so of Asian horror films. You haven’t heard of this movie until now. “Was this released last year?”

 “Last year,” Sam confirmed. “It was an entry for the annual Japanese Horror Festival so it was exclusively shown that day.” 

 “That’s too bad. I would have watched it,” you muttered. You hoped they would release it on DVD with enough funding. “Okay. So if this longhaired girl here was the ghost in that movie, what was Mr. Cas doing here then?”

 “Vanquishing the vengeful ghost,” Cas said grimly. Dean nudged him subtly. “Bobby John and Benny James were scared after watching the film, which was a mistake in our part. I had to assure them that Sadako wouldn’t get them, not when I’m alive.”

 Your impression of Cas so far was that he was a man who took things too seriously and literally. You guessed they were just part of his character as the loving Papa. You found it adorable. 

 “Ah, kids,” you chuckled affectionately, moving on to the next drawing from Benny James. 

“I think I get it now why Benny James called you an angel in this one,” you said. “Complete with a set of wings and all.” 

 “That’s a pretty accurate image of my angel wings,” Cas said cryptically, clearly liking the drawing. 

 Dean squinted. “Is that me being carried by Cas?” 

 “Your son said so, yes.” 

 “I mean, he ain’t wrong,” Dean allowed. “Cas is our ride often,” he murmured. 

 You didn’t catch it, but his brother Sam did, prompting a “Yeah, I bet he’s always your ride” under his breath. 

 Dean kicked him at the back of his leg and claimed that Sam’s wife was infecting his innocence bit by bit.  

 You cleared your throat when you thought a childish brawl would break out between them. Cas merely glanced at you apologetically at their behavior. “They’re not always like that,” Cas told you. 

 You waved off the apology with a wry smile. You suddenly missed your younger brother back at your home. 

 “Oh, yeah.” You picked out the other drawing by Bobby John. “There’s another from Bobby John. I think this might be about a movie too.” You tilted your head. “It’s… interesting,” you said, for the lack of a better word. 

You heard Sam’s snort before catching the way Dean’s face fell. 

 “I think this is Rowena burning Dean that one time he called her fa—”

 “Okay, don’t listen to Cas,” Dean interrupted, covering Cas’s mouth with his palm. “That’s—That’s from a show. Okay, so that’s me and Rowena. I was watching the show with the kids, I irritated her for whatever reason, and she threatened to burn me the same way that guy in the show was burned,” he explained. He gave an uncertain chuckle at your reaction. “You know, typical in-laws stuff.”

 Yeesh. You were sure darn lucky you didn’t have any in-laws. Not yet, anyway. 

 “Pretty sure you were watching Tom and Jerry that time, Dean,” Sam cut in. 

 “And Tom got burned there,” Dean protested. “He was still alive, of course. Unlike me if Rowena went through with her threat,” he retorted, petulantly crossing his arms. At Sam’s bitch face, Dean sighed. “Look, man, I’m not demonizing Rowena. Just saying she has quite a temper. For me. Never the kids. I’m saying you could have done worse, Sam, and either way, I’d take her as my sister-in-law anytime.” 

 Sam looked like he wasn’t expecting the honest statement. He was warned by his brother not to tell her, and while Sam didn’t look like he was going to keep it a secret from his wife with that knowing grin, he nodded nonetheless. 

 There was a single drawing left, and when you saw what it was, you knew that like his brother, Dean would love the one intended for him. 

“Bobby John and Benny James both drew it,” you said, smiling at how Dean went silent in awe. “They told me that their Number One Papa is Cas and you're the Number One Dad.” 

 “Can I keep this?” 

 After the previous depictions of Dean being carried on air and being burned, you thought he deserved the drawing. “Feel free to.”

 Dean was beaming with pride. “Cas, we should frame this.”

 Sam shook his head amusedly. You weren’t fooled; you knew he would also do the same with his. 

***

The rest of the meeting was quick. The kids’ grades were impressive for their age, and it helped that they have good foundations from home as well. The three of them—yes, even Dean— commended Mrs. Winchester’s patience reserved for teaching them how to read and write and getting them to be interested in books the same way Sam also was.    

 “Hopefully, she’ll come with us next PTM,” Sam said. “I’m sure she’d like to know you.” 

 Mrs. Winchester seemed like a force to reckon with, but, frankly, you were also excited to meet her in person. 

 “Thank you, Ms. Y/N,” Cas said. You shook his hand. “You’ve given us helpful insights on how they’re doing at school. You’re a good teacher to them.”  

 “Yep. Nice to know they’ll be fine in school.” Dean mock-saluted you. “Until next PTM, ma’am.” 

 You weren’t expecting your first PTM to go smoothly as this, and you certainly didn’t expect that the parents that initially made you anxious (and interested) the most would be the most entertaining. 

 “Until next time then,” you said with a smile. 

 You gave a slight wave after you saw them out of the classroom when they stopped on their way and seemingly remembered something.  

 “You know what, before we go, we might as well give you this.” Dean reached for his jacket pocket and handed you a business card. 

It didn’t look like a precinct calling card, and at your apparent confusion, it was Sam who answered you. 

 “It’s our other job,” he said. “A family business.”

 “Hit us up, ma’am, if ever you need help.” 

 “With what exactly?” you asked. 

 “If you noticed anything strange,” Cas said. 

 “Like cold spots,” Sam added

 “Or weird smells,” Dean said. “Anything that you noticed… unnatural.” 

 “Oh.” Was that the position ‘Hunter’ was for? And what did ‘MoL’ mean? “Thanks?” 

 You remained holding the card even as they drove off in their Impala. Curiously, you pulled out your phone and searched the net for the names Sam and Dean Winchester. 

 Interestingly, the first search result that showed up in Google was a decade-old website named Ghostfacers. Once introduced to the content of the site, however, your reaction was a simple: 

 “Holy shit.”

[girrsah]

Chapter: 7/? Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Dabi/Hawks (My Hero Academia); more to come as story progresses Characters: Todoroki Fuyumi, Dabi (My Hero Academia), Todoroki Shouto, Todoroki Natsuo, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Hawks (My Hero Academia), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko

Additional Tags:

Dabi is a Todoroki, Fuyumi and Dabi Twin AU, mentions of child abuse, Abuse, Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, vigilante!Fuyumi, non-canon compliant, PTSD, more pairings to come but I don't want to spoil them, self-care, sometimes self-care is kicking your brother's ass, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Dating, more relationships as they occur in the fic

She always hated coming here.

She’d seen the campus a few times when she and Touya were approaching their first years, she’d come along to cheer him on during his testing only to test for the General Studies course herself. 

They both got in but she declined due to...well...

Schools were meant to have color, to have fun, to encourage children to get along and be the best they could be and to be the best they could be while bringing each other up at the same time. U.A. always gave her a clinical vibe and while Shouto told her that the other students often had team-ups, study groups, and whatnot, there was still a level of competition that seemed a bit too Battle Royale for her taste.

Then again, maybe the fact that she watched her brother completely over-freeze the stadium in his first Sports Festival had something to do with it.

Fuyumi sucked in a breath and approached the gate that only students and staff could pass through and looked up towards the camera at the probable security guard. “Excuse me? I’m Fuyumi Todoroki. I have a meeting with Aizawa-sensei?”

A panel opened up and she jumped at the abruptness of it’s movements and then the awkwardly loud voice coming over the speaker. “Put your hand to the screen.” She did as such, watching as it scanned her finger prints, “Please remove your glasses and look into the camera above the screen.” She obeyed, leaning forward and feeling goofy as she tried not to blink during the quick retinal scan. “Thank you, Ms. Todoroki, please take your visitor badge and map to Aizawa-sensei’s office.”

She fumbled a bit, taking the badge and clipping it to her blouse collar since she had nowhere else to visibly put it and then accepted the map with a quick thank you and made her way to the large, H shaped building. 

It looked too corporate to be full of children .

It didn’t help that Fuyumi was just coming from work where she spent a day encouraging kids to color and have fun. She was in the business of helping create happy, well rounded children who didn’t have to think twice about the Hero Society if they didn’t want to. Not when they can talk about puppies and fairy tales. 

But that also meant she felt terribly underdressed in her jeans and blouse. It was a surprisingly warm fall day (the past few days had been extremely cold so this warm front was a welcome surprise) so she didn’t bring a cardigan but her work bag hung off her shoulder and she gripped it tightly as she entered the main campus building and turned right as the map advised.

After some time of walking, she found herself a bit lost and she felt relief when she saw two boys about Shouto’s age walking down the hallway, “Excuse me!” She called out to them while approaching them, “I’m sorry but I can’t seem to find this room…” She pointed to the map, “I have a meeting with Aizawa-sensei of class 1-A.”

Both boys were tall and certainly looked like they belonged at U.A. in the sense that they seemed fit and imposing. The boy with unruly purple hair bent down slightly to look at the map and shook his head a bit, “They gave you bad directions,” He told Fuyumi, “Aizawa-sensei’s not even in that room half the time.”

“It’s not their fault, Shinsou, these maps are based off of time blocks and Aizawa-sensei simply doesn’t follow his own schedule!” The other boy, broad with a neat haircut and glasses scolded.

“Are you actually speaking negatively about your teacher, class president?” The boy, Shinsou, asked.

The other boy sputtered and straightened up immediately, “You’re not in our class yet, Shinsou, so I’ll just warn you now that if you think-” Fuyumi cleared her throat, “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be late for my meeting.”

Shinsou gave her a smile, looking more pleased at the red color of his soon-to-be classmate’s face than anything, “We can show you,” He assured in a soft, kind tone that Fuyumi would associate with a Hero student - good thing this boy either was one or was going to be one.

They started leading her back towards the way she came and Shinsou opted to break the silence, “So why are you meeting with Aizawa-sensei?” “Shinsou, don’t be nosey!”

“I’m Shouto Todoroki’s sister,” Fuyumi introduced herself, “I wanted to talk to him about something Shouto said to me the other day.”

The other boy looked surprised and then a little flustered, “My apologies, I didn’t know Todoroki had a sister!” He all but exclaimed before stopping to properly and politely greet her, “I’m Tenya Iida. Todoroki and I are friends and classmates!”

Fuyumi smiled, “It’s nice to meet you, Iida.” She replied kindly, biting back the feeling of disappointment that Shouto didn’t speak about home to the point that no one knew he had an older sister. Did he talk about Natsuo? Or did he just not mention her? “He seems so much happier since making friends at U.A. so thank you!”

Iida seemed more flustered at that, his face a bit red and a small, pleased smile on his face, “O-Of course! I appreciate his friendship!” He announced robotically, “This way please!” 

Shinsou rolled his eyes behind Iida’s back, offering Fuyumi an amused little smile as the Class President led the way outside and towards some buildings just past the main campus.and towards a series of brick buildings. They walked towards one of the buildings and Iida opened the door before looking at Shinsou.

“...I suppose you can come in.”

“Gee, thanks.”

They made their way in, Shinsou taking off in a different direction after a quiet ‘nice to meet you’ to Fuyumi and she heard a chorus of delighted ‘Shinsou!’ coming from what she assumed was the common area. Iida led her to a room just off the entrance and knocked on the door politely.

“Aizawa-sensei! You have a visitor! She says you have an appointment!”

There was a noise like something had fallen and then fumbling behind the door before it was yanked open to reveal the sight of Shouto’s extremely disheveled teacher. His gaze flickered from Iida, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, then to Fuyumi and then back before he let out a long, drawn out sigh.

“Thank you, Iida.” He dismissed, “Ms. Todoroki, please, come in…...don’t mind the mess.”

Fuyumi looked at Iida, giving a slight bow, “Thank you for your help.” She offered him a kind smile.

The pink seemed to return to his face as he bowed back awkwardly and (loudly) assured her that it was his pleasure before robotically turning around and rushing away as quickly as he could without actually running. Fuyumi gave a confused little hum, wondering if Shouto’s friends were all this...odd...and turned her attention back to Aizawa, who was attempting to look like he was tidying his office by pushing papers back and forth.

There was a chair in the corner, the office designed more for him to work than for him to meet with anyone and Fuyumi awkwardly decided to close the door behind her and sit on the edge of her chair, her bag neatly by her feet as she watched Aizawa seem to gather his thoughts as he shuffled through all of his papers and tried to make himself less disheveled. 

“Should I come back later?” Fuyumi asked tentatively.

He looked up at her suddenly and she flinched at his sharp expression but he immediately softened upon seeing her reaction, “No, no, I’m sorry about keeping you waiting, Ms. Todoroki.” He sighed heavily and found what he was looking for, a post-it note with near intelligible writing. “I’m surprised you asked to speak to me and not your father-”

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Fuyumi interjected, “I...He feels Shouto’s focus should be more on his schoolwork and his goal of becoming a Hero.” “Whose goal?”

“Pardon?” Fuyumi asked, her face growing a bit warm as Aizawa studied her intently before leaning back in his chair.

“You wrote to me because you were concerned about your brother’s being able to wrap up your injured hand?” Aizawa asked and Fuyumi flinched at his words, tugging her sleeves a bit over her bandaged hands as she’d split them once again due to Quirk overuse (she didn’t expect such a brawl last night) and this time had to look up a YouTube tutorial to effectively wrap them. “You realize dressing minor wounds is something every hero should know, Ms. Todoroki, so I’m curious to know why you’re actually here.”

“O-Oh, well, I…”

She should have known he would have picked up on her weak excuse immediately.

“As I said, my father is more concerned with Shouto’s educational and professional successes,” She started slowly, “And...I’ve been watching Shouto since he started at U.A. and while I am concerned about the fact that your students are regularly bandaging each other up, I’m thankful for how he’s doing socially. I was worried about him when he first started but he’s really opened up.”

Aizawa hummed and ran a hand through his messy hair, “If it’s any consolation, it’s usually just one particular student that needs the bandaging up.”

“It’s not.”

“Understandable.” 

Fuyumi shifted, “I know my father wants Shouto at U.A. and I know Shouto wants to be at U.A. but...can you let me know what your students go through so I can just have...peace of mind?” She plead. “I’m just…”

“Worried now that your father is Number One Hero and with past attacks on U.A. that Shouto may not be in the safest place?” Aizawa guessed.

Fuyumi flinched and nodded slowly, “The world is getting scarier and I can’t really voice my concerns to anyone but...I just want to make sure my youngest brother is safe.”

Aizawa hummed, crossing one leg over the other as he studied her silently and she squirmed in her seat, suddenly realizing that this was probably a terrible idea. He was a Pro Hero who could probably and would probably see right through her. She’d already seen him glance at her bandaged hands, his questions were probing but not enough to stir up any real suspicion. She worried for the students’ mental health but she worried that her appearance would completely derail the conversation and that Aizawa would figure her out. 

Maybe he already knew she was playing vigilante and getting into fights. Maybe he heard about the bar fight and put one and two together. Afterall - her brother had half an Ice Quirk, it was fully possible he had a sibling with an Ice Quirk, right? She’d been sloppy. She’d been careless. She was sitting here in front of a Pro Hero, covered in bandages and trying to keep cool.

He was on to her and she was playing right into it.

“I’ve gotten quite a few comments from concerned parents about exactly this subject,” Aizawa replied, pulling Fuyumi from her panic, “Even though they agreed to the dorm system, the news reports start sinking in as does the battle your father went through with the High-End Noumu and they need to be sure they’re making the right decision for their children to be here.” She felt the tension leave her shoulders at his words and she looked down at her hands, glad she was apparently wrong about him seeing right through her and readjusting her bandages a bit. 

Aizawa shuffled through his paperwork and slid out a form, offering it to Fuyumi, “This is their typical schedule. I hope you understand that I’ve had to mark out important information for the sake of security…”

“I understand,” Fuyumi replied softly, accepting the paper and reading over the page. The kids had a lot of practical lessons but it was good to say that the school was still teaching them relevant courses such as Math and Literature. “What about psychological wellness?” Fuyumi asked suddenly, “And offering the children options?”

“Options?” Aizawa asked, his demeanor a little more alert now.

“They’re children,” Fuyumi replied, “They can change their minds. Or, heaven forbid, they experience an injury in the field that could prevent them from continuing their Heroing careers. If you don’t give them options such as a secondary career focus, they’re going to start at square one when everyone else their age is far ahead of them.” Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her and she immediately felt herself clam up, quickly putting the paper back on his desk and staring down at her hands, flexing her fingers carefully, “I-I-I’m sorry. I didn’t...I shouldn’t be...I’m not one to tell you how to tell your job.”

Who did she think she was? Just acting like she could tell a Pro Hero how to teach children how to be Pro Heroes. It was shameful. 

“Ms. Todoroki, do you have a boyfriend?”

“E-E-Excuse me?”

Aizawa sighed heavily and rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’m always bad that this,” He muttered under his breath, “Ms. Todoroki, you’re... while I am Shouto’s teacher, if you need someone to talk to about,” His eyes glanced to her hands again, “Anything…”

Oh, he thought she had a...well, he wasn’t entirely far off but…

“I really appreciate your offer,” She assured, “But these are just from taking self-defense classes.”

He didn’t seem to believe her and she shifted awkwardly in her seat again, “I...thank you for your reassurances,” She announced, standing up and he followed suit. “Seeing that Shouto’s got such a strong support system at school is really helpful.”

“I didn’t exactly answer your question…” Aizawa drawled, moving to open the door for her - or keep it closed and keep her pinned in.

“It wasn’t my place to ask it,” Fuyumi replied quickly.

Aizawa continued to study her and she looked anywhere but his face, fidgeting with the bag in her hands. After a long moment, the Pro Hero sighed and pulled the door open, pushing it with his arm because the office was so cramped and allowing Fuyumi to duck under his arm and pass through the doorway.

She turned and gave a short, deep bow, “Thank you for listening to my concerns,” She told him, eager to get out of there now that she felt on edge.

He was on to her. He was on to her. Hewasontoher.

She wondered if she looked suspicious outside of the obvious injuries. Was she breathing too heavily? She certainly felt like it. Why was this building so hot? Weren’t the students uncomfortable? Wasn’t Aizawa? He was wearing what essentially seemed like a jogging suit, afterall. So why was she feeling so warm and no one else felt bothered?

“Thank you for expressing them,” Aizawa replied before his gaze shifted from her to down the hall, a scowl momentarily crossing his face.

Fuyumi followed his scowl, just barely seeing a handful of teenage faces dipping behind the corner. She huffed out a tiny laugh before looking at Aizawa again, feeling a little better now that the tension was broken by the teenagers. He looked at her, his annoyance with his students evident but she didn’t see any harm behind his expression - it was more of a tolerance than anything.

It was reassuring.

Shouto and his friends would be fine.

She bowed politely again, “Still, thank you.” 

Aizawa gave a short nod, “Of course. And like I said earlier…”

He didn’t continue with his response, probably because Fuyumi’s face was feeling hot and she certainly knew she’d either grown red in the face or had gone completely pale along with being tight lipped and looking anywhere but at him. Her whole body was tense at the idea that Shouto’s teacher was under the assumption that she was being...well...she wasn’t and she certainly didn’t want to talk about it.

“I appreciate it,” She replied, realizing afterwards that her tone was more clipped than she intended. 

“Fuyumi?” Fuyumi and Aizawa both turned to see Shouto standing at the end of the hallway, looking concerned for the most part as he glanced between the two of them. “Is everything okay?”

High near the ceiling, just by the corner was an ear.

“Oh, Shouto,” Fuyumi fumbled, trying to find the right thing to say so she wouldn’t mortify and embarrass her little brother in front of his friends and classmates. “We’re just…”

“I’m having progress checks with your parents and guardians,” Aizawa drawled, “When we established the dorm systems, we thought it would be a good idea to offer progress reports in the beginning so that we and your parents can be certain this is the right move for your progress and well being.” 

Shouto’s eyes flickered from Aizawa to Fuyumi and she offered a smile, more at ease now that Aizawa had established that it was okay to lie to her little brother, “I guess I must be the first one to get a progress check,” Added lightly with a little shrug.

Shouto didn’t seem impressed, “What about Father?”

She waved him off, “You know that he’s busy,” She replied, “Besides, I figured you’d prefer it if I came instead of him. I’ll tell him about the visit tonight.”

Shouto still continued to frown at her.

“Unless you want your sister to meet your friends, I think it’s for the best to let her go home,” Aizawa chimed in.

Shouto looked at Fuyumi, clearly internally debating if he wanted to introduce her to his class in such an impromptu manner and Fuyumi decided to spare him. “Maybe next time, I need to get home and get started on dinner.” She didn’t look at him out of fear that he may be relieved. That maybe the thought of her meeting his friends was something he’d never want or perhaps he feared she would say something to embarrass him. She bowed yet again to Aizawa, pushing that thought down, “Thank you again for your assurances.”

Aizawa nodded and gestured for Fuyumi to follow him. She glanced quickly back at Shouto, lifting a hand in farewell before leaving her youngest brother in the hall as she followed his teacher to the front door of the dorm building. She thought that Aizawa would simply hold the door open for her and shoo her out, so she was surprised when he joined her outside and closed the door behind him, walking in step with her as they descended the stairs to the front door.

God, what if he wanted to approach the source of her injuries again?

“My apologies for my students,” He commented, “To be truthful, your brother doesn’t speak about his home life so you’re a bit of a surprise for the class.”

“I hope it doesn’t cause trouble for Shouto,” Fuyumi sighed softly.

“He’ll be alright,” Aizawa assured.

Fuyumi gripped her bag tightly and kept her gaze on the sidewalk as they walked towards the entrance of the school grounds. She figured Aizawa was walking her partly because he wanted to apologize for his students’ curiosity and partly because letting someone loose on campus was a security risk. They could create a timeline of when Fuyumi arrived through the security check, but they had to make sure she actually left.

They walked in silence, stopping at the gate and Fuyumi was starting to feel silly at this point with how many times she was thanking Aizawa, but it would be rude not to. He didn’t seem to mind as his hands were tucked into his pockets and he gave her a look that was more exhausted than anything.

“Thank you again,” She said softly, “I hope our lie doesn’t cause more work for you.”

Aizawa shrugged, “It’s probably for the best if I allow parents this opportunity,” He replied. “They may provide feedback that is valuable. Thank you for your suggestion in regards to the mental health of the students as well as providing alternative opportunities.”

Fuyumi shifted her hold on her bag, feeling sheepish that he’d actually taken her suggestion into account, “Well, I…” She looked at him quickly and looked away again, “I teach young children and I always want to make sure that they’re set up to grow into the best they can be. I had a feeling you would understand.”

Aizawa seemed honestly surprised by that, his brows raising as his head tilted just enough to indicate his interested, “You’re a teacher as well?” He asked.

“Just elementary,” Fuyumi replied with a soft laugh. “It’s a much different atmosphere than high school.”

“Debatable.”

Fuyumi couldn’t control the tiny laugh that escaped her as Aizawa kept his poker face. They bade each other farewell and Fuyumi walked through the gate, stopping to return her visitor’s badge to the security console before making her way home with the mental plan to make dinner for herself and her father, take care of preparing for class the next day, and see if she could check out any of the leads from the night before.

She knew she couldn’t scope out the exact area that the gang had told her purely because she’d overheard her father talking on the phone about the bar brawl and if they gave her that information so easily then they definitely spilled the beans for Endeavor. The area was going to be watched by heroes for a fair amount of time and it was just not a good idea to be caught anywhere near the area.

However, if the area was flooded with Heroes, then anyone in a more unsavory lifestyle was going to evacuate the premises. If she investigated just outside the radius of Hero patrol, there was a chance she could get another lead at the very least. 

She just had to get to Touya and everything would turn out fine.

[shadowdianne]

Candor

In another less dark news here I present a small ficlet I wrote for my roommate's (yes, the one and only) dnd character. We are playing in the Tal'Dorei setting and she created the most delightful background to work with.

Since I can't draw for my life but I adored the possibility of writing I asked to be left with my own devices and she, despite fearing I was going to write angst, let me do it. She also has given me the permission to repost this here.

M, just a clue, a small one, of which is your account, pretty please xD

Candor

The sound of the nearby chapel’s bells wasn’t strong enough to drown the noise of those chatting while walking between the haphazardly-looking stalls but Freya focused on it as she rolled her shoulders onto the cape she had been wearing non-stop ever since she had walked into Whitestone.

She missed the ability to wear her hair down, the lack of chaffing on her slightly pointed ears or the uneven feel of paint onto her cheeks, the symbols made out of carefully bought paint an important part of her morning routing she had needed to cut off in order to not stand out among the majorly human crowd of the town. Biting on her bottom lip, the half-elf stepped away from two women, their gaunt faces not dissimilar to the ones she had already gotten used to see among the cobble-covered streets of the northern place. Chill air gripping her throat, puffs of air floating through the air as the chatting won against the dying toll of the bells, she hummed as she kept on walking, throwing glances to the product present in some of the stalls.

The effects the battle against the Chroma Conclave were still visible in many parts of Tal’Dorei; the lack of what had been common commodities once upon a time the most jarring difference as well as the slowly rebuilding cities but the lack of light on the ones around her, the way children played close to their parents, not really willing to move too far from them, made her feel the same weariness that had called upon her the first time she had heard the news about how the former Lord of Whitestone had, apparently, returned to his rightful place.

De Rolo. The title and surname had meant something for her once upon a time and as she rolled the name once more against her tongue, feeling the soft tap of its tip against her velum, she glanced beyond the stalls that circled Pelor’s tree, the golden shimmer of its bark, its leaves, paling against the white beauty of the castle from which every part of the city -from its slums to its richest neighborhoods- could be seen.

She had arrived a few days ago, not entirely sure what was what she expected as her usual playful demeanor changed to one she had very rarely used ever since she had fled from the continent that waited beyond the Shearing Channel; the scent and taste of salt from the sea that awaited to those stupid enough to transverse it strong and powerful against her nose. She had thought she had forgotten it; the way her spine would protest as she hold herself to the top of her height, the way her mannerisms would transform from practical to elegant, the slowness of them ricocheting against her bones in the same way she had very quickly gotten bored on her lessons back when she had been younger. Sadly, however, it seemed like the ways of someone from the highest parts of society were never truly erased: no matter how much one tried to.

“Are you going to buy something or are you going to keep on staring?”

The question, made in a thick Tal’Dorei-an accent woke her up from her reverie, thoughts of long-forgotten mornings spent under the watchful eye of her tutors gone in a cloud of smoke as she blinked back to the present; to the forever warm roads that run through the city as blood and ichor alike. Tilting her head while grasping the ends of her cape so it didn’t flare up with her free hand, she grasped the middle of her staff with the other, the magic from the wind that played with the forever autumnal leaves of The Dawnfather’s tree swirling by and towards her, feeding her own power.

“I was just looking.” She smiled, knowing that her mouth and nose were clearly visible to those with human eyesight and regaling herself with the vision of the slightly elderly woman who puffed for a moment towards her before she returned back to the meagre metallic plates she offered -ideal for those who couldn’t afford a full set of armor! -. Staring as the pale complexion of the woman turned red from the exhaustion one must always took whenever they dealt with difficult customers, Freya walked past the kiosk before stopping by in a smaller one, bags of grain and spice laying around and against the cracking wooden planks that seemed almost strange within a city that prided itself from the rock and mountains that named it.

The merchant there was definitely more affable, younger and must had some genasi ancestry on his blood; the runes and symbols on his arms and the slightly strange shade on his skin not enough to suggest Tiefling or Drow. Feeling less exposed, Freya watched as the man smiled to a couple of young human girls that, blushing, paid for what must had been something under their mother’s request before it was her turn. The scent of slightly musky grain felt stronger as soon as her booted feet moved forward, the rustle of her cape making the man look up from the coins deposited on his hand. Nodding towards her, eyes going to the hood that protected her skin and eyes from being watched, the man pointed at what he sold.

“Everything is from the farmlands attached to the city, I wouldn’t suggest the wheat though; little bit too weak this time of the year.” His accent wasn’t as thick and it suggested some time spent learning the basics back at Emon or any other bigger city and Freya, almost out of habit, glanced down towards his hands, calloused but nimble. Smiling herself, she let her mind wander back momentarily to when she had been young enough to not be subjected to her tutors, to when she had had the ability to escape those and run to the marketplace that spread itself as much as possible with the shoreside as its frame back into her homeland. There, close to a much warmer sea, she would put her hand against the sack of grain only to simply push her fingers onto the packed bags, the feeling strange and ticklish as she dug deep into them. She found herself stopping the old and mechanical movement, the need for it obvious on her posture if the quiet chuckle from the man was anything to go by.

She was saved from some further inquiry as she felt two hands pushing against her upper thigs, the size of them human and tiny enough to suggest a kid, one that moved away with much more light on his eyes than what she had been able to spy on many of those who walked alongside her for as many days. Checking her pouch and finding it still attached to her hip, Freya stared as the kid stuck out his tongue, his blonde hair and clear green eyes a soft and sweet relief to her own sore stare. It felt almost painful, in a way she wasn’t ready to dwell on, the way the child’s bubble-like laugh reached for her before he was pulled away from his mother, curiosity obvious as his angle from beneath let her see not only her half-elven traits but the way she kept on nervously glancing every part of her magic hidden and tucked away.

Not out of fear, she would say, not out of terror or worry about the magic on itself as divinity, nature, pacts, were the usual on every other part of Tal’Dorei but she felt uneasy as she tried her hardest not to think on who the boy made her think of, on who the boy -out of sweetness- resembled another one, several others, who she had seen grown up until she had returned to Father’s summer house one year only to find the one next to it empty and cold and lacking.

Feeling magic crackling against her skin, the easy spell made out of two symbols with the aid of her thumb and forefinger almost escaped her as she considered fire, water and air as possibilities the small human child could enjoy. She halted herself on the very last second though, the wood of her focus warmer to the touch by the moment she glanced away, a small smile on her lips despite the weight of her memory as she was transported back to long afternoons and even longer evenings in where she would been spoken excitedly about objects and ideas that were still just a boy’s dream, a shadow of the reality that peppered now through Tal’Dorei: light and firepower and warmth echoing the name of an inventor, a fighter, whose title had been as evoking as the possibility of not one but two re-appearing back in the place from where they had been eradicated; their demises ones that had felt rough and sand-paper-like against Freya’s still too raw skin.

But they were alive, she said to herself as she muttered a soft apology to the man, his boyish smile as if he truly didn’t mind the lack of any sale easing up her steps while she walked further down the line of stalls, the cry of an eagle breaking through the morning air. At least two of them if the news were true and a part of her hold onto the possibility of it.

Because, she thought; at the end everything finished down the same shoreline, being it steep and cold or easy and warm: she needed them to be alive and she longed for them to be well. Even if her decision of leaving behind her own self-inflicted loss put her in a vague kind of danger she still didn’t know how to name. She had forged her own death after all; no one had told her that she would need to not pursue the lives of those who she had cared about. And she longed for that care and warmth and those stories whispered atop the tallest turret of a castle she had known like the palm of her hand back when titles and possibilities had been squandered into the wind. Shaking her head but heart beating lighter, she quickened her steps as she walked past the boy and his mother, mind made up by the time she brushed past them. She moved her fingers, magic minute but powerful a tiny flame danced between her fingers momentarily before it jumped right in front of the kid; his cheers of surprise making her burrow herself further into her hood as she suppressed a smile.

She looked back for one last time, the spell disappearing as soon as her concentration dropped; starry eyes following her, following her staff and clothes in a way that didn’t make her feel naked or raw but seen.

It was about candor, she thought as she left the castle and the marketplace behind, letting herself wander back to the Scarlet Pimpernel, the promise of some food and Valanthe’s easy small talk one she couldn’t truly deny. It was about the warmth that hid behind decisions and journeys.

The eagle screeched again, its call echoing at her back weak enough for her to not think about it twice.

[leroiloup]

Ravenous

⚜ Inspired by the song Barton Hollow by The Civil Wars       ➥ Takes place in 1920 (After the fire in New Orleans, before Chicago)      ◈ Characters: Klaus + Rebekah       ✥ Trigger Warnings: KKK Members (no racial slurs)  |  Violence/gore

              It was a hot and sticky August day in South Carolina. The year was 1920. The heat was almost visible as it rose up from the dirt road and graveled train track and the breeze that blew in the big oak trees did nothing to alleviate it. It didn't have much of an effect on the two vampires who made their way on foot down the railroad tracks, though.

             The brother and sister looked out of place as they made their way towards the next town. They carried nothing with them except for the clothes on their backs which were stolen from their last meal. Klaus wore tan trousers, with black suspenders and black shoes and a billowy white cotton shirt. He had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Rebekah sported a plain white cotton dress, her hair down around her shoulders and her feet bare, dirty from the dusty roads. They looked like the usual impoverished ruffian types that would hitch rides on train cars to get where they're going.

             It was all an attempt to lay low and blend while they sought out refuge from their father. The last time they saw him was a handful of months ago in New Orleans. Now, they made their way to Chicago, a land that promised many dark shadows in which to hide. As Klaus's worn shoes crunched over the gravel of the train track, Rebekah balanced herself on the steel tie, looking graceful as she almost danced along it, her dress moving in the breeze. They looked like children, innocent in the summer day. ❝ What do you think Elijah is up to right now? ❞ she asked her older brother.

             Klaus shrugged and shook his head. ❝ Living in luxury, wearing a most expensive tailored suit, ❞ he answered in annoyance. Just ahead, he spotted a couple of small wooden buildings, most likely a general store and bar. ❝ This way, sister, ❞ he told her, leading her away from the train track and towards the very tiny southern town.

             Rebekah spotted a woman carrying a basket of produce and she looked longingly. ❝ Nik, I'm hungry, ❞ she complained. It had been far too long since their last meal.

             The woman, overhearing that, turned to see the pair who certainly looked in need of food. ❝ There's a diner just there, ❞ she said politely, pointing to the far building. ❝ They got food. ❞ Her eyes took in the strangers down to Rebekah's bare feet. ❝ But it sounds like you's from outta town an' I warn you, if you ain't from 'round here, you might wanna wait until the next town over, jus' fifteen miles along the tracks. ❞

             Interest piqued, Klaus stepped forward, eyeing the stranger. ❝ And why would that be, love? ❞

             Nervous eyes glanced at the diner, then back to the seemingly nice looking siblings. ❝ Folks 'round here know that's a favorite meetin' spot for Clan's Men. ❞

             Klaus's eyes went wide at their sudden bought of luck. He looked to his sister who seemed to have the same epiphany. ❝ How hungry did you say you were, dear sister? ❞ he asked her with a smirk.

             The pretty blonde smiled and replied:                                                                                    ❝ R a v e n o u s. ❞

            Leaving the kind woman alone unharmed, they headed towards the diner, looking almost giddy at what awaited them. ❝ I bet I can best you, sister, ❞ Klaus challenged.

             Rebekah scoffed. ❝ As hungry as I am? I doubt it. ❞

             The pair grinned and they walked up the front wooden steps and headed inside.

             The diner was small and seemed almost crowded with only eleven people inside it, including the cook in the back and the woman behind the counter. Conversations stopped and the white men all turned to eye the newcomers, not sure what to make of them.

             Rebekah walked to the counter and looked at the woman, eyeing the pretty red ribbon she wore in her hair. ❝ I'm very thirsty, ❞ she said with her best puppy dog eyes.

             Before the server could reply, one of the bigger men moved to lean against the counter next to the blonde, eyeing her predatorily. ❝ Your boyfriend can't even provide enough to get you some shoes, huh? ❞

             Both of the siblings scoffed loudly and then Rebekah replied sweetly, ❝ That's my brother. ❞

             Hearing her accent, the man cocked his head to the side, then brushed her hair back from her shoulders. ❝ Well then sweetheart, maybe there's something I can do. ❞

             Klaus's eyebrows shot up as he saw his sister go rigid. ❝ She doesn't like to be touched, ❞ he warned, though his tone was light.

              ❝ It's alright, brother, ❞ she replied, her eyes still on her future meal. ❝ I'm not the sort woman he'd want to touch anyway. ❞ Though her focus didn't change, it was clear she started talking to the man in her personal space. ❝ I'm sure you'd want to take your hand back if I told you that the greatest love of my life was a proud, beautiful and powerful colored man. ❞

             There was a scuffle and the men in the restaurant all stood up, taking it as a threat of sorts. Klaus looked delighted. It was the best way to determine who among the crowd were the true scum. Turns out, it looked to be all of them. Even the woman behind the counter looked disgusted. He noted that the only one who didn't react the same was the cook. That man merely looked frightened for whatever violence seemed inevitable.

             The wasted excuse of a man next to Rebekah suddenly looked less hospitable. ❝ You sullied yourself with one of them, girl? ❞ he asked as his hand grabbed her shoulder, pinning her in place.

             Rebekah looked down at the grimy appendage with filthy fingernails, then raised her eyes to meet his. Only now, hers had turned a dark red and the veins around her them bulged with hunger. ❝ He said, ❞ she told him, showing off a pair of razor fangs that extended slowly. ❝ I don't like to be touched. ❞ She grabbed the hand on her shoulder and yanked it, pulling him towards her where she could easily bite his neck with a ferocity that caused blood to splatter. He screamed, then fell down dead. 

             Stunned, the rest of the men turned to look at Klaus, whose eyes now matched his sister’s. Before any of them could move, he reached for the man closest to him and in a show of strength and speed, ripped the man's head entirely from his body. Blood splashed up on Klaus's face, the surprise of it causing him to look amused at his sister. She giggled, then all chaos broke loose.

             Men ran for the door, only to be stopped by either one of the vampires with preternatural speed. A couple of others tried to fight back, only to be torn limb from limb. Screams echoed in the small space and blood sprayed up on the windows and walls.

             Rebekah walked around the counter to see the woman cowering there, crying in fear. There was no pity or remorse in creature-esque vampire eyes. ❝ I like your hair ribbon. I do say, it would match my dress quite lovely, don’t you think? ❞

             With a shaky hand, the woman untied it and held it out. Rebekah smiled, then pounced on her. The shrill scream could be heard down the street.

                                     ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

             The kind stranger who had been buying groceries walked out of the general store just in time to hear the end of that scream. She looked curiously at the diner and watched as the cook ran out the back door, going at top speed into the woods and never looking back.

             Then there was silence, nothing but cicadas in the trees making a sound. The door of the diner flung open and Rebekah stepped out into the sunshine, tying the red ribbon at the end of a newly made braid. Her white dress was stained with still-wet crimson, matching the blood that ran down her lips and chin. Black boots were now on her feet as she walked the dirt road. 

             A moment later, her big brother joined her, blood painting his face and much of his clothing. ❝ That was five for me, ❞ he told her proudly. ❝ And since the cook got away, only four for you. ❞

             Rebekah looked over at him, smiling like something from a horror movie. ❝ You forgot about the woman behind that counter. That's five. We tied. ❞

              ❝ So we did," he agreed with a grin. ❝ Good show, my dear sister. ❞

             Rebekah smiled and turned to see the stranger from earlier down the dirt road. The woman dropped her basket, fruit spilling on the ground as her mouth hung open in a silent scream at the sight before her. Rebekah merely put a finger in front of her lips in a sign of 'shh', then the siblings carried on, following the dirt road that ran along the train tacks.

[darkpetal16]

Pride & Humility - Chapter Two

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood Fanfiction

Genres: Gen, Friendship, Family, Adventure, Hurt, Comfort

Summary: “Friends look the other way. Best friends eat the body.” -Selim B. The story about an innocent and disturbing friendship between homunculus and human. Old soul OC. Surprisingly wholesome.

Warnings: Violence, gore, death, excessive child abuse, profanity

Beta: Taintedletter

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood. Elizabeth belongs to Midnightwishes, but I will be borrowing her for this journey.

Chapter One

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Beta: Taintedletter

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Early spring of 1908

“Hello.”

Elizabeth paused in her studies, looking up to find a boy taller than her. He was a cute boy, with neatly combed black hair and deep purple eyes. He was well dressed, and he had a nice smile.

‘An heir?’ Elizabeth thought to herself, closing her textbook to give the boy her full attention.

No one had approached her in the library for months, after all.

Six months into her alchemical tutoring, Mrs. Delve inquired about Elizabeth’s interests. When Elizabeth admitted her desire to combine alchemy and botany, she expected some kind of lecture, or negative reaction.

Instead, Mrs. Delve made an approving comment, and admitted that she was not well versed enough in botany to assist.

The following day, Grandfather Crow gave Elizabeth permission to study in Central’s military library in regards to botany. Mrs. Delve would drop her off at the library after their lessons, and a butler would fetch her before dinner.

That had been six months ago, and Elizabeth gleefully took to her studies. The library at home was dismal, and unpleasant to be in, but she found the library at Central to be an utter delight.

It had an overabundance of knowledge, a delightful smell of old books, and plenty of lighting to not feel dull. Elizabeth was utterly content at the library, and thoroughly enjoyed reading there.

Reading was always a good way to distract her from the fact that she had no friends.

She hardly had any interruptions, too.

No one paid her any mind.

Until day.

Today a boy approached her, and was holding out his hand to her.

Elizabeth accepted his hand with a shy smile of her own. “H-Hello.”

“I’m new here,” the boy went on, shaking her hand. “I’m Selim Bradley.”

“E-Elizabeth Luxanna,” Elizabeth introduced, retracting her hand.

“I heard about you from my father,” Selim said, his smile widening. “You’re studying to be a State Alchemist, right? A prodigy?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted, wondering why the boy had approached her. Children didn’t come up to Elizabeth anymore, and once they knew what she was there for, they usually left.

“That’s so cool!” Selim crowd, and Elizabeth thought the sparkle in his eyes was charming. “Hey, can I join you? I don’t have school for a while, and it’s boring being left alone.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and a hopeful feeling fluttered inside of her chest. “Yes… please do.”

‘Does this mean…?’ Elizabeth watched with disbelief as the boy promptly took a seat beside her. ‘Is he… wanting to be my friend?’

‘Dear God, please let us become good friends!’

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One month later…

Elizabeth Luxanna sat alone at a table in the far back of the library. At first glance one might find the appearance of a five year old girl reading from books as big as her head strange, but those that knew Elizabeth Luxanna would find the situation perfectly normal.

The brunette kept her thick long hair in a loose side tail that went over her right shoulder. She wore a stylish green and white sundress, accompanied by a dainty bow. She was, after all, a wealthy heiress. That demanded a certain standard to her appearance.

Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip as she painstakingly redrew some of the more complex designs out of the book she reading from. She was not allowed to take any of the books out of the library, since this library was reserved for members of the military. She was one of the lucky few granted special permission due to her grandfather, and status as potential State Alchemist.

Obviously she was too young to take the test, but her prodigal intelligence, coupled with her intuitive grasp of science and alchemy, marked her as someone special.

This, with her connections through her Grandfather, granted the five year old heiress special permission to study in the library.

Every day after noon—when she would finish up her morning studies with her private tutors—she would take a trip to the library and spend the remainder of her day studying botany, plant science, and human biology.

Again, this would strike anyone as odd to find a five year reading—and understanding—these complex sciences.

But those in the know, simply accepted this fact.

Elizabeth worked with an intense single-minded focus that did not belong with a child. She worked for hours until she was politely interrupted by a boy close to her age.

Selim Bradley was a new addition in Central. The führer and his wife had adopted Selim only last month.

Elizabeth paused in her work, her green eyes lighting up with genuine joy when her friend took a seat beside her. Even though he had been visiting her every day for a month now, she couldn’t stop being pleasantly surprised to see him. Comparing the demeanor of the girl before and after Selim visited her was like comparing night and day. Her sheer glee was plainly apparent to all who could see.

He gave her a saccharine smile, and asked in that cute voice of his, “Whatchya working on now, Ellie?”

Elizabeth showed him the diagram she was currently sketching.

“Nonvascular plants?” Selim repeated, tilting his head in a way that Elizabeth found to be a very adorable.

“Plants that don’t have the tissues to transport water,” Elizabeth oversimplified for him. There was, of course, a lot more to it, but Selim didn’t have the same level of interest in botany as Elizabeth did. She didn’t want to bore her only friend away.

“I see,” came Selim.

“What do you wanna do?” Elizabeth asked Selim, closing her books and turning to him. “Do you like any games?”

“What kind of games?” Selim asked, cocking his head.

“Hmm.” Elizabeth hadn’t really played games before, but she had seen children play them in the streets. “What about hide and seek?”

This made Selim smile so wide it looked almost sinister. “I don’t think you want to play that with me. I’m really good at finding people.”

If that wasn’t a challenge, Elizabeth didn’t know what was.

Childish joy bubbled up inside of her, and confidence she didn’t know she had stepped forth. “I bet I could hide somewhere you can’t find me.”

Selim’s grin stretched even further out, and if Elizabeth didn’t know any better she would have thought there was a darker tone to it. “Eh? Well, let’s find out. I’ll give you three chances.”

“Okay,” Elizabeth agreed to. “Count to thirty, okay?”

“Okay,” Selim agreed.

Unfortunately for Elizabeth, he found her. All three times.

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The library always grew quieter as the day went on. In many ways, the library would remind Elizabeth of her home when it grew too quiet. But the library had something “home” didn’t, and that was Selim Bradley. When Selim joined Elizabeth in the afternoons, Elizabeth would pause in her work to spend time with him.

For the first time in years, Elizabeth had something—someone—to look forward to throughout the day.

She hadn’t realize how badly she needed a friend until Selim stepped into the role.

At home, Elizabeth would count the seconds until she was freed to go to the library. Her tutoring sessions became more difficult to focus on when she started to find herself daydreaming about some new and exciting game she and Selim would play (he was very good at coming up with games).

To her, Selim was the best thing to have happened to her.

To her, he could do no wrong.

So the very idea of anyone disagreeing with this opinion felt like sheer blasphemy. Like someone was trying to argue that the sky was purple, not blue.

“You don’t find me creepy, do you?” Selim had asked her one day, his face blank, and tone flat. The two sat in their favorite little corner in the library while Elizabeth had been reading aloud a fantasy adventure novel for Selim. He was usually an attentive listener—he especially liked it when she did voices for the characters—but that day he felt distant.

“No,” Elizabeth answered honestly, caught off guard by the strange question. As she thought about it for a second more, apprehension rose up inside of her. Concerned, she asked, “Why? Who said that?”

“Oh, just some kids,” Selim answered vaguely, turning his head away from her. “A lot kids don’t like to be around me because of it.”

“Then they’re stupid,” Elizabeth concluded, frowning as she peered at her friend.

‘Did they hurt him?’ Elizabeth worriedly thought. ‘I hope he doesn’t think that about himself.’

The thought of her only friend being upset deeply bothered her. She wished she could do something to take away those awful feelings, and she frantically searched through her mind to think of a way. Most of her knowledge pertained to math, or science, not social interactions.

But then she recalled an earlier scene in the book she was currently reading to Selim, and it was from there she found an answer.

She reached forward and gently patted Selim’s shoulder. This caused her friend to turn his head to look over at her, and she leaned forward to kiss his cheek in friendly manner. “You’re not creepy, Selim. You’re my friend. Don’t listen to those other kids, okay?”

Selim froze the moment Elizabeth kissed him on the cheek, his entire posture and face stiffening as if he had just witnessed the impossible.

“Selim?” Elizabeth asked, realizing that her friend wasn’t reacting. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Selim, are you okay?”

Selim blinked several times before he smiled awkwardly at her. “I’m fine.”

Elizabeth beamed. “As long as you’re okay. Tell me if anyone ever says that to you again and I’ll beat ‘em up for you.”

For some reason this caused Selim to snort before bursting out into laughter.

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“Cat or dog?”

“Cat,” Selim answered. “Red or blue?”

“Red,” Elizabeth returned. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

That got a smirk. “Chocolate. Day or night?”

“Night.” Elizabeth narrowed her emerald green eyes in thought. They had been going back and forth for over an hour, and she was starting to run out of questions. “Fire or water?”

“Fire. Stone or steel?”

“Steel. Fruit or vegetables?”

“Fruit.” Selim’s nose wrinkled. “Who likes vegetables?”

“Vegetarians,” Elizabeth suggested.

Selim nodded, curling his lip back in plain distaste and reluctantly accepting such. “Yeah. Alright… Mountain or ocean?”

“Mountains.” Elizabeth shuddered. “I don’t like water I can’t see the bottom of.”

A dark glimmer of interest sparked in Selim’s eyes. “Oh? Why not?”

“One word: kraken.”

Disappointed, Selim snapped, “That doesn’t exist!”

“We don’t know that,” Elizabeth insisted, but Selim snorted disbelieving at her. “Have you ever been to the ocean?”

Selim frowned, his eyes narrowing. He folded his arms over his chest. “No. But you have?”

“No, but that’s ‘cause I’m too scared. I don’t want to accidentally unleash the kraken,” Elizabeth retorted, then brightened, her eyes sparkling. “Your turn.”

Selim pursed his lips. “Mn. Cake or cookies?”

“Cookies—no, cake. No, cookies. Um… This one is really hard.” Elizabeth scratched her cheek as she thought. “Oh, dang. I guess you win, I can’t choose.”

“I always win,” Selim said haughtily, a smirk crawling across his face.

“I’ll beat you at something one day,” Elizabeth declared before she deflated immediately afterward. “Maybe.”

Selim mockingly patted her back, his tone smug. “You’re welcome to try, Ellie.”

✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧

For the past few months Elizabeth cherished each of her days. Home life was difficult, and hard, but she got to learn alchemy and had a friend.

Time spent with Selim was treasured, and Elizabeth even took to writing about their quiet adventures in the library so that way she could re-read them at home. When she was done writing a week’s work of adventures, she’d give them over to Selim who would then scribble comments in the margins that always made her laugh.

She wished it could go on like that forever.

But time marched on unwavering, and Selim had to start attending school.

When Selim Bradley started school, he was no longer able to visit Elizabeth in the afternoons. He had to return home after class, instead.

Elizabeth didn’t want to lose her only friend—the thought of Selim leaving her for good sent a sharp pain through her heart, and made her feel sick to her stomach. She didn’t have anyone else to talk to.

Selim really, and truly, was her only friend. If she could no longer spend time with him, she thought she might drown in her loneliness.

A bit over dramatic, perhaps, but that was how the girl sincerely felt.

She hated being ignored at home. She hated not being able to connect with her own peers. She hated how the adults looked down at her because of her age.

But none of these were things she felt like she could fix. Making a ruckus at home would cause her to be confined to her bedroom in isolation for however long Grandfather wanted, and she lacked the patience to deal with immature children. She couldn’t make adults respect her, because she honestly had no idea how.

Selim was the only one who voluntarily spent time with her. He listened—and understood—what she talked about.

He single handedly made her feel… not alone.

If she could look forward to meeting with him later that day, then she could stomach the bitterly quiet breakfasts, or the snide tutoring lessons. He made everything bearable.

And yes, she knew it was unfair to put that entire burden on one person, but…

Elizabeth didn’t know what else to do.

Selim no longer being able to visit her in the afternoons was unacceptable to the girl, but she couldn’t very well force him out of school.

No.

But she could visit him for an hour at his home.

Hopefully.

Now, she had never been to Selim’s home, or even met his parents, so Elizabeth knew she had to make a very good impression.

She dressed up in her nicest sundress, cute shoes, and fixed her hair several times before she was satisfied. She had her butler take her to a nearby bakery and floral shop to pick up greeting gifts—her etiquette tutor told her such was essential—and then she was escorted to Selim’s home.

Which just so happened to be the home of the führer in Central Command.

The butler, Gregory, escorted the young heiress to the front gates. He stopped short of going in, giving a stern look to Elizabeth. “I’ll return in an hour, young miss.”

“Okay,” Elizabeth said, a touch disappointed he wouldn’t be escorting her any further. She understood why—ever since it was decided she would be enlisted in the military as soon as possible as a State Alchemist, her grandfather began to enforce “early independence”—but she still disliked it.

Central Command was a massive and intimidating building. It stood tall, clinical white walls looming above all who entered its premise. There were guards stationed nearly everywhere in sight, and patrols roaming along outside.

Elizabeth clutched at her small box of puff pastries, and her bouquet of blue flowers. Nerves fluttered inside the pit of her stomach, and she swallowed back the anxious lump in her throat. Mustering up the little courage she had, she straightened her shoulders, and marched directly down the front road.

She received a few perturbed looks as she walked, but she (with great difficulty) pressed on.

Entering the front doors—the guards stationed there opened them for her, thankfully—she stepped in to a pristine waiting area. There were a couple civilians milling around, and no one paid the small girl any bit of attention.

Elizabeth moved to the receptionist, and the pretty woman behind the counter smiled down at her. “How can I help you, sweetheart?”

“I-I’m looking for Selim Bradley’s home,” Elizabeth squeaked out, trying to calm her stomach.

“Oh, he’s the führer’s new son, isn’t he? Are you a friend from school?” The receptionist asked with a wide smile.

Elizabeth nodded shortly. “I’m his friend.”

“Okay… you see the doorway over there?” At Elizabeth’s nod, she continued, “Go through there, and take an immediate right. Go all the way down the hallway until you reach the end and go left. Go through the white doors, and it’ll take you outside. The building directly across is where the Bradley’s live.”

Elizabeth committed the directions to her head. “Okay. Th-thank you.”

“Of course. Ask any of the guards to help you if you get lost.”

Elizabeth bowed politely before excusing herself. She hurried down the hallways, weaving between the guards. Thankfully, she was able to accurately follow the directions, and she made it back outside.

The Bradley’s home was behind Central Command, and it was every bit as imposing as Command. Elizabeth nervously approached the front door, and knocked.

There was several seconds of tense silence before the door opened up to reveal an elderly butler. “Good evening, young miss. How may I help you?”

“I-I’m here t-to see Selim, a-and meet his parents,” Elizabeth barely managed to say, her voice quivering from nerves. She wished she was back at the library, where it was safe, quiet, and she didn’t have to interact with so many strange adults.

Adults only looked down on her, after all.

The butler’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh, I see. Please, do come in, miss…?”

“E-Elizabeth Luxanna,” Elizabeth hurriedly said, stepping inside.

“If you would please wait here, I’ll fetch the young master and Mrs. Bradley.” The butler excused himself, and Elizabeth resisted the urge to fidget.

It took several minutes before anyone returned. Selim practically rushed into the room, face conveying a perfect sense of shock. “Oh, wow! You really are here, Ellie.”

Behind him was an older woman with kind eyes, and a sweet smile. “Is that any way to greet a friend, Selim? You must be Elizabeth, it’s wonderful to meet you.”

Elizabeth promptly curtsied, remembering her manners. “I’m Elizabeth Luxanna, ma’am. It’s an ho-honor to meet you. These are for you.”

Elizabeth thrusted out the pastry box and flowers, and Mrs. Bradley’s eyes crinkled as she accepted them. “Oh my, these are lovely. Thank you. Elizabeth, why don’t you stay for dinner?”

“O-oh, I couldn’t impose—”

“C’mon, Ellie!” Selim exclaimed, grabbing Elizabeth’s hand and tugging her forward. “Dinner’s the best here. You came to see me, didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes! A-About that, actually,” Elizabeth took a deep breath in, “I was hoping if maybe I could visit after school? S-Since Selim can’t visit the library in the afternoons anymore, I—”

“I don’t see why not,” Mrs. Bradley responded gently. “As long as Selim has his homework finished, you’re more than welcome to come over and play any time.”

Selim tilted his head as he looked at Elizabeth, amusement in his eyes. “Did you really come here to try and spend more time with me?”

“Of course,” Elizabeth said, her cheeks red. “You’re my best friend. I’d be really sad if I couldn’t see you anymore.”

Selim frowned briefly at that before he grinned widely. “Best friend, huh?”

“The very best,” Elizabeth assured him.

For some reason this made him laugh.

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Elizabeth met Selim at his school the following day, excited to walk home with him. Central Academy was stationed close to Central Command, so his home was within walking distance. To Elizabeth’s surprise, Mrs. Bradley was already at the school gates, too.

When Mrs. Bradley noticed Elizabeth, her whole face lit up. “Oh, Elizabeth, did you come to walk Selim home, too?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Elizabeth shyly admitted, tugging at her dress.

Mrs. Bradley glanced around Elizabeth, a small frown marred her face. “I don’t see any escorts with you.”

“My tutor dropped me off at the library at noon, and I walked from there,” Elizabeth answered. The library was nearby, too, after all.

Mrs. Bradley let out a small gasp of surprise. “Alone? But you’re so young!”

“Grandfather Crow wants me to become independent as soon as possible, so I can join the military,” Elizabeth explained. Mrs. Bradley’s face clouded over with blatant disbelief, but Elizabeth didn’t understand why. Everything she said was normal to Elizabeth.

Adults only thought of children as beneath them, or tools to be used. Grandfather Crow thought of Elizabeth as a thing to better the country.

That was natural.

Having Mrs. Bradley show up to escort her son was utterly bizarre to Elizabeth.

Although, now that Elizabeth noticed, there were quite a few other parents milling around outside.

‘Are they all waiting for their children?’ Elizabeth wondered, befuddled by this. ‘Why?’

Before Elizabeth, or Mrs. Bradley, could say anything further the school let out for the day and Selim rushed over to the two. He greeted both with a happy chirp, “Hello, Mother! Hey, Ellie!”

Mrs. Bradley smiled sweetly down at Selim, taking his hand and then holding her other hand out to Elizabeth. Elizabeth stared at it peculiarly before she realized Mrs. Bradley wanted to hold Elizabeth’s hand.

Perturbed, the heiress reluctantly obliged, and Mrs. Bradley began to walk the two children back home.

Elizabeth expected a quiet, somber walk home.

But then Mrs. Bradley did something absolutely absurd.

Smiling warmly, she asked with a downright ludicrous amount of sincerity, “How was your day, Selim?”

“Easy,” Selim bragged.

“Everything’s easy to you,” Elizabeth pointed out, even as she stared at Mrs. Bradley in disbelief.

‘Why does she seem like she genuinely wanted to know about Selim’s day? Am I dreaming?’

That got a big smile from her friend, and a cute giggle (‘Adults can do that?!’) from Mrs. Bradley. “Oh, my! She’s got you pegged, Selim.”

“Not entirely,” Selim responded. “How about you, Mother? How was your day?”

“Lovely, as always,” Mrs. Bradley answered cheerfully. “Elizabeth, dear, would you like to have dinner with us again?”

‘Dear?!’ Elizabeth thought, aghast, before she shook her head to clear that thought.

Elizabeth promptly recalled Grandfather telling her to always accept dinner from the führer’s family. When she had returned home late the night she first visited Selim’s family, Grandfather Crow had been quite cross with her. Until she explained what happened, and then he told her to always accept whatever request came from the Bradley’s.

A part of Elizabeth was relieved to receive blanket permission to spend time with Selim. The rest of her wondered how Mrs. Bradley planned on using her.

She smiled hesitantly at Mrs. Bradley. “Y-Yes, please.”

Mrs. Bradley’s eyes shone brightly. “Wonderful—”

The hair on the back of Elizabeth’s neck tingled, and she abruptly snatched her hand out of Mrs. Bradley’s grip. A car swerved out of control toward the trio, and Elizabeth’s body moved on its own accord, throwing itself on top of her only friend.

Mrs. Bradley also reacted, crying out and immediately grabbing both children and turning around to shield them from the car.

There was a loud screech as the car veered out of the way, crashing into a nearby lamppost. Mrs. Bradley trembled as she held Elizabeth, who was holding onto Selim.

For several seconds there was only tense silence and then a flurry of men and women rushed over to the scene.  Shakily, Mrs. Bradley relaxed her hold on the children and worriedly asked, “Are you two okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Elizabeth answered, too flustered to question the sincerity behind Mrs. Bradley’s question. The brunette heiress addressed a blank faced Selim. “S-Selim?”

“I’m fine,” Selim answered, his tone subdued, and expression unreadable.

Mrs. Bradley breathed out a sigh of relief before she rounded on Elizabeth. There was a painful warmth inside of her eyes that made the young girl deeply uncomfortable. “You threw yourself in front of Selim before I even noticed. That was very brave of you.”

Elizabeth’s face turned hot. “It was nothing.”

Mrs. Bradley’s expression softened and she pulled both children into her arms, kissing the top of their heads (the action made both children turn to stone, completely stiff). “What wonderful children you both are. I’m so very glad you’re safe.”

Embarrassed heat flooded through Elizabeth as a motherly woman hugged her tightly with unwarranted tenderness. Never, ever, in her life could Elizabeth remember a time that she had been hugged.

She had read about it. She had read about kisses on the cheeks, and hugs, and sweet families, but those had been in stories. Fantasies. Make believe.

She tried to be affectionate with Selim, but he never initiated contact.

So having someone hug her tightly with relief that she was okay was—

Ohsoverynice.

And confusing.

Extremely confusing.

And judging by Selim’s expression, he felt the exact same way.

✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧♡✧✧

Mrs. Bradley is an angel that should have adopted the Elric brothers too, and no one can change my mind about that.

Answer: Sure. I’d sacrifice an arm to learn how to transmute plants. As long as I could get a pretty sweet automail arm afterward.

Question: What kind of alchemist would you like to be?

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