#all the brothers are very black passing but they are in fact half Japanese

[omegabenaeart]

This man kisses boys, you can't tell me otherwise!

[lovahopie]

Well I'm in Cars brainrot again. Now everyone gets to suffer with my ocs. These are the girls only. I got a lot. And yes they are all children of WGP racers. Sue me.

Alessa Shimada (Birth name Alessandra)

Age: 18

Birthday: January 16

Zodiac sign: Capricorn

Nationality: Japanese

Ethnicity: Italian

Appearance: Short wavy black hair, reddish brown eyes, tan skin

Height: 5'7

Mother: Elisa Shimada

Father: Francesco Bernoulli

Sibling(s): Valentino Shimada (older twin brother)

Friend(s): Sabrina Todoroki, Valentino Shimada, Katashi Todoroki, Daria Clutchgoneski, Emmie Schnell, Rolf Schnell, Sarah Revington, Jessica Gorvette, Nicolas Caroule, Andrés Camino, James Gearsley, Abby McQueen, eventually Landon McQueen

Closest friend: Sabrina Todoroki

Crush or Partner: N/A

Personality: Can be standoffish, considerate, bold, confident, creative, sarcastic, protective

Where they live: Osaka, Japan

Background: Being the product of a one night stand, Alessa had to grow up not really knowing who her father was. She grew up with her twin brother and mother in Osaka Japan . The only other family member that she has is her mother's adopted father, a old family friend to her mother's parents. Alessa grew up being very close to the Todoroki family. Shu Todoroki was a father figure for Alessa and her brother and Carla Todoroki was like a second mother. Alessa's best friend is Sabrina. The two are basically sisters. Alessa personally wants to hit Landon in the face with a frying pan.

Sabrina Todoroki

Age: 18

Birthday: March 14

Zodiac sign: Pisces

Nationality: Japanese

Ethnicity: Japanese and Brazilian

Appearance: Long wavy black hair, dark brown eyes, dark tan skin

Height: 5'7

Mother: Carla Veloso (married surname Todoroki)

Father: Shu Todoroki

Sibling(s): Katashi Todoroki (older twin brother)

Friend(s): Alessa Shimada, Katashi Todoroki, Valentino Shimada, Daria Clutchgoneski, Emmie Schnell, Rolf Schnell, Sarah Revington, Jessica Gorvette, Nicolas Caroule, Andrés Camino, James Gearsley, eventually Landon McQueen

Crush or Partner: Valentino Shimada (crush)

Personality: Sarcastic, blunt, honest, loyal, standoffish, quiet, can act out going

Where they live: Osaka, Japan

Background: Being the daughter of two legendary race car drivers, Sabrina had to get used to the public at a very early age. Her parents tried to keep her and her brother out of the public eye so that they can have a normal childhood. Sabrina's fondest memories were dancing with her mom in their living room and reading with her father. She is now struggling with the fact that she likes Valentino more than a close friend.

Daria Clutchgoneski

Age: 17

Birthday: June 27

Zodiac sign: Cancer

Nationality: New Rearendian

Ethnicity: New Rearendian and Hungarian

Appearance: Long curly red hair, light green eyes, pale skin, freckles

Height: 5'0

Mother: Catalina Clutchgoneski

Father: Razvan "Rip" Clutchgoneski

Sibling(s): Stefan (baby half brother)

Friend(s): Alessa Shimada, Sabrina Todoroki, Emmie Schnell, Sarah Revington, Jessica Gorvette, Nicolas Caroule, Andrés Camino, James Gearsley, Valentino Shimada, Katashi Todoroki, Rolf Schnell, eventually Landon McQueen

Closest friend: Emmie Schnell

Crush or Partner: Nicolas Caroule (partner)

Personality: Meek, shy, empathetic, honest, friendly, optimistic, sensitive

Where they live: Wheeli, New Rearendia

Background: At the age of 5, Daria's mother passed away from bone cancer. Ever since then, it's been just her and her father. Daria's father was the kindest soul and extremely tuned to his emotions. Daria grew up into a beautiful and independent girl. But her relationship with her father started to turn a little sour when he started dating Crina. Crina was nice enough, but Daria's father began to spend a lot more time with her than with Daria. Now Crina is pregnant and Daria's father has all but forgotten about Daria. But Daria has her boyfriend Nicolas to take comfort in.

Sarah Revington

Age: 18

Birthday: July 29

Zodiac sign: Leo

Nationality: British

Ethnicity: Grenadian, British and Haitian

Appearance: Black coily hair, brown eyes, dark espresso skin

Height: 5'5

Mother: Tamara Revington

Father: Lewis "Hamilton" Revington

Sibling(s): None

Friend(s): Jessica Gorvette, Alessa Shimada, Sabrina Todoroki, Daria Clutchgoneski, Emmie Schnell, Rolf Schnell, James Gearsley, Nicolas Caroule, Andrés Camino, Valentino Shimada, Katashi Todoroki, Landon McQueen

Closest friend: Jessica Gorvette

Crush or Partner: James Gearsley (crush)

Personality: Sweet, kind, soft spoken, the nice mom friend, humble, life of the party

Where they live: Liverpool, England

Background: If Daddy's girl was a person, it would be Sarah. Although, she isn't a brat. She just has a very close bond with her father. When she was a newborn, her father would parade her around as if she was the greatest thing on earth. Despite living in the UK, Sarah grew up around so much culture. Her favorite dishes were the Haitian dishes that her mother makes. Her parents pushed into her mind to be proud about her heritage and not let anyone put her down. She now has a huge crush on James.

Emmie Schnell

Age: 18

Birthday: September 1st

Zodiac sign: Virgo

Nationality: German

Ethnicity: German and Danish

Appearance: Shoulder length platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin

Height: 5'8

Mother: Zoey Schnell

Father: Sebastian "Max" Schnell

Sibling(s): Rolf Schnell (older brother)

Friend(s): Daria Clutchgoneski, Alessa Shimada, Sabrina Todoroki, Sarah Revington, Jessica Gorvette, Nicolas Caroule, Andrés Camino, James Gearsley, Rolf Schnell, Valentino Shimada, Katashi Todoroki, eventually Landon McQueen

Closest friend: Daria Clutchgoneski

Crush or Partner: N/A

Personality: Cautious, smart, quick on her feet, strong-willed, low trust in people, sarcastic, pessimistic

Where they live: Berlin, Germany

Background: Emmie grew up surrounded by love. She just happens to be too much like her father. Emmie used to be very close to her father. She could have definitely been described as a daddy's girl. When she was about 6, her father got into a horrible car crash during a race. She didn't know how to handle seeing her father in so much pain, especially when she hugged him and he winced in pain. She internalized her feelings and started to distance herself from her father. Now she does a lot of the tech and mechanical work for her father's race car. But she just can't bring herself to touch her father. Ironically, she is very close to her older brother Rolf. She finds Andrés very annoying.

Jessica Gorvette

Age: 18

Birthday: November 7

Zodiac sign: Scorpio

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Mainly of Scandinavian and Germanic descent

Appearance: Dyed platinum blonde hair, green eyes, light tan skin

Height: 5'5

Mother: Veronica Gorvette

Father: Jeff Gorvette

Sibling(s): None

Friend(s): Sarah Revington, Alessa Shimada, Sabrina Todoroki, Daria Clutchgoneski, Emmie Schnell, Rolf Schnell, Valentino Shimada, Katashi Todoroki, Nicolas Caroule, Andrés Camino, James Gearsley, Rolf Schnell, Landon McQueen, Abby McQueen

Closest friend: Sarah Revington and Landon McQueen

Crush or Partner: Katashi Todoroki (crush)

Personality: Cocky, life of the party, adventurous, energetic, easy going, outgoing, thinks everyone is a friend

Where they live: San Francisco, California, USA

Background: Living most of her life in San Francisco, Jessica lived life to the fullest. Her favorite thing to do is surfing and hiking. From a young age, Jessica was taught to appreciate everything in life. She loves learning about different cultures. Her best friend is literally her golden retriever named Lucky. She has a major crush on Katashi

Abby McQueen (Birth name Abigail)

Age: 13

Birthday: August 12

Zodiac sign: Leo

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Mainly of Irish and German descent

Appearance: Long light brown hair, blue eyes, pale skin

Height: 5'2

Mother: Sally McQueen

Father: Montgomery "Lightning" McQueen

Sibling(s): Landon McQueen (older brother), Blake McQueen (younger brother)

Friend(s): Ling Ge, Santiago Rojas, Alessa Shimada, Jessica Gorvette

Closest friend: Ling Ge

Crush or Partner: Does Jacob from Twilight count?

Personality: Blunt, caring, dramatic, sarcastic, going through the emo phase of life

Where they live: Radiator Springs, Arizona, USA

Background: Being the only daughter of a legendary race car driver, Abby got to be the spoiled princess. She isn't rude like her older brother is though. Her mom made sure that didn't happen again. But at the moment, she is going through what every 13 year old goes through: the emo phase. And yes, she reads the Twilight series unironically. She sees Alessa and Jessica as the older sisters that she never had.

Ling Ge

Age: 14

Birthday: February 2

Zodiac sign: Aquarius

Nationality: Chinese

Ethnicity: Chinese and Cambodian

Appearance: Short back hair, brown eyes, light tan skin

Height: 5'3

Mother: Jorani Ge

Father: Long Ge

Sibling(s): None

Friend(s): Abby McQueen, Santiago Rojas

Closest friend: Abby McQueen

Crush or Partner: N/A

Personality: Quite, a loner, cautious, shy, meek, can be sarcastic

Where they live: Guangzhou, China

Background: Ling's life was a bit rocky. She grew up in Phnom Penh, Cambodia with her mother. She didn't know who her father was for the longest time. It was only when her father found her. All of a sudden she is living in a strange city in a country that she hates. Cambodia was not the best country, but at least it wasn't China. Her mother loves being back with her father, but Ling wishes that she could go back home. This wasn't home to her. Because of all the changes, Ling has a rough relationship with her father. Ling met Abby and Santiago at a racing event that their fathers were participating in. Now the three are extremely close.

Alma Rojas

Age: 7

Birthday: March 23

Zodiac sign: Aries

Nationality: Mexican

Ethnicity: Mexican and Guatemalan

Appearance: Long brown curly hair, brown hazel eyes, dark tan skin

Height: 3'9

Mother: Gabriela Rojas

Father: Memo Rojas Jr

Sibling(s): Santiago Rojas (older brother)

Friend(s): Macy Winterbumper, Yevgeny Petrov, Blake McQueen

Closest friend: Macy Winterbumper

Personality: Sassy, confident, bold, loud, the life of the party, energetic, adventurous, loves her family more than anything

Where they live: Mexico City, Mexico

Background: Alma is the youngest child of the Rojas family. Because of that, her family spoiled her as much as they could without making her a brat. She grew up in not only Mexican culture but also Guatemalan culture. She is one of those girls that isn't afraid to get dirty. She is also not afraid to wrestle with the boys in her family. Her older brother Santiago got a black eye from her a few times.

Macy Winterbumper

Age: 7

Birthday: June 5

Zodiac sign: Gemini

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: Scandinavian descent and Australian

Appearance: Light blond hair, blue eyes, light tan skin

Height: 3'8

Mother: Charlotte Solomon-Winterbumper

Father: Harrison "Frosty" Winterbumper

Sibling(s): None

Friend(s): Alma Rojas, Blake McQueen, Yevgeny Petrov

Closest friend: Alma Rojas

Personality: Friendly, soft spoken, gentle, adventurous, curious, very well behaved, calculated

Where they live: Amarillo, Texas, USA

Background: Macy grew up in the Lone Star state of Texas. Her mother is a well known rodeo queen and barrel racer. Because of her mother's profession, Macy found herself surrounded by horses and the rodeo life. Macy has a horse of her own. An appaloosa named Pepper. Macy looks up to her mother a lot. But her father is a bit of a mystery to her. She rarely sees him because he lives and works in Australia. Macy wishes that she could have a closer relationship with her father, but she has no idea what the first thing of racing is. She likes horses and rodeos, not cars and racing. Her father tries, but he is rarely there and doesn't know much about either horses or rodeos. Macy is best friends with Alma because Macy's mother and Alma's mother were college roommates that still keep in touch.

[jasontoddiefor]

Tyki Mikk is a Clone and I can (almost) prove it

Tyki Mikk is undoubtedly a fan favorite and yet we don’t really know a lot about him. For a character that was created with the purpose of being handsome (cf. D.Gray-Man Manga Volume 5, page 150), he carries a lot of baggage and has a rather unclear past. A theory that has haunted me since I read chapter 198 and has only grown in strength with the most recent arc is that Tyki is in fact a clone of Nea. As far fetched as this seems at start, there is quite a bit of evidence supporting this theory.

1) Tyki’s visible similarity to Nea (and Mana)

One of the first things Wisely remarks on when he meets Tyki is his similarity to “a certain man” (Chapter 187).

This similarity is picked up twice more in the manga. When Allen meets Nea for the first time (cf. chapter 198), he mistakes him for Tyki at first.

And it is brought up a third time by Nea himself in chapter 225 when he says:

To which Tyki, or rather Joyd, has this wonderful reaction:

But more on that guy specifically later. Point being right here is that three different characters, or four if you want to count Road and Wisely separately, acknowledge that Tyki resembles Nea a lot, down to the man himself. How does that saying go again? Once An Accident, Twice A Coincidence, Three Times A Pattern? This is something that repeatedly gets brought up again. And this is without going into detail on how much Tyki resembles not only Nea, but said man’s identical twin as well. Just look at that dashing long hair!

And take this from chapter 158 as well

Pretty long haired boy Mana is nothing new as of chapter 218 and 219:

Another interesting point here is that Tyki is the exact same height as the Earl in human form! They’re both 188cm tall. Nea, on the other hand, is listed at being 177cm. This could just be that Nea unfortunately ended up as the shorter twin, or, we take into consideration what Mana tells Allen/Red in chapter 238:

He remembers being seventeen, which means that he and Nea probably weren’t done growing yet when the “Earl” corrupted Mana. (It also kind of makes everything about Nea more hilarious if you realize he’s just seventeen.) Tyki, however, is 26 when we first meet him and should be around 27 now. He is an actual adult and not bound to hit another growth spurt.

But to summarize the first argument: Tyki looks uncannily similar to Nea and Mana and the manga keeps pointing it out so we can assume this resemblance is important.

2) Cloning is possible in canon

Now the second point is just here to point out that we know cloning to be possible. Funnily, Tyki’s resemblance to Nea gets pointed out just before the Alma Arc, which very much deals with the concept of reincarnation – only there we have the brains of deceased Exorcists transplanted into youthful bodies.

However, it’s not as if something like DNA hasn’t been mentioned before. Specifically, it has been called “Helix of life” by no other than maybe-former-Bookman but definitely First-Nea-host Past!Allen in chapter 221:

So let’s assume that, in the aftermath of Nea’s “death”, PastA didn’t just wait around for Nea to wake again, but tried to find a vessel for him. Messing around with this helix, and whatever other dubious science and magic this world had to offer, and created a new body to host Nea. Except he failed, and the result is Tyki.

But if that is so, shouldn’t Tyki remember anything about that? Good question. Time for some more shady weird stuff about Tyki.

3) The Missing Years

In chapter 202, while the Earl is resting, Tyki talks to Road. I don’t speak Japanese, so I can’t verify which translation is more accurate, but I’ve found these two:

Now the official German one also goes with a similar translation as the second one here, implying that Tyki has been with the Earl for ten years. In any case, the fact that this decade at all gets mentioned is quite odd because it doesn’t match up with what we know of Mana travelling with Allen. Cross calls Allen a “ten-year-old brat” (chapter 208) when he looks after him. So between Mana travelling with Allen and current canon, only 6 years have passed – what are up with the other 4 that are supposedly within this decade? We don’t have a definite age for how old Allen was when he met Mana, but I’d say around 7 or older. That’s still not enough to fill out the decade they speak about here.

Now, presuming that it does in fact refer to Tyki staying with the Earl for that time, we’re either left with assuming that the Earl acted as a separate entity as we see in 218, or that Tyki’s memories are just flat out wrong.

4) Tyki Mikk’s Canon-Typical Ignorance AKA The Baby of The Family

The more often Tyki appears, the more we see how much he actually doesn’t know about the going-ons of the war, or even himself. This goes back as far as the Ark Arc in chapter 130 with the Earl pointing out that:

So this form is apparently something that all Noah of Pleasure can take on, a sort of second stage of awakening. Still, it feels significant that Tyki separates his life so much into “black” and “white”, “Noah” and “human”, going as far as suppressing a part of his Noah. It puts him in direct opposition to Skinn, who was more or less entirely consumed by his Noah memories. Though, perhaps this is also just a narrative ploy because a character with the ability to chose is, frankly speaking, fuck off overpowered and the only reason why Tyki isn’t constantly leveling battlefields is probably that he just doesn’t know how to apply himself.

Regardless, Tyki’s ignorance also becomes visible in chapter 187 again when he wonders about his Noah name:

Nobody else reacts like he does, even though the other Noah haven’t been awake as long as he has and also should have retained the same memory damage as Joyd after Nea’s murder spree. Yet Tyki feels a little like the baby of the family, still learning and growing while everyone else is already in the know, which can’t be too far from the truth if we look at chapter 225:

Wisely and Road definitely know that something went down and kept it from Tyki for so long for reasons. So besides Allen learning the truth sometime in the future, Tyki is also heading towards some kind of realization – and honestly, what better than the fact that the man who enjoys his freedom and roam so much, was artificially created?

Road could have manipulated his subconsciousness, his memories. It’s a miracle really that the Earl hadn’t had a breakdown around Tyki already given how much he looks like Nea. And if Tyki really awoke as a Noa a decade ago, then eh would have been right the age Nea was when he died. The Earl should have reacted in one way or another.

Other small details that don’t add up is a) the claim that Tyki and Sheril are actual brothers. They have different last names, which would imply that they are perhaps rather half siblings, sharing one parent, or maybe they just aren’t related at all in the first place. The other thing is that Nea recognizing Tyki’s face immediately after confronting Mana about his changed appearance just adds even more suspicion.

5) TLDR

Tyki is either a clone or something else messy went down because there’s no way that there’s a natural Nea and Mana copy running around who also just so happens to be a Noah. No way.

Thanks for coming to my  TED talk I’m never writing meta again this was a nightmare to post.

[rbbalmung]

Pokemon SwSh GPL AU: Character Headcannons P1

(From this point on, I am calling this Pokemon Sword and Shield AU the GPL AU after the Galarian Pokemon League). Here are my character headcannons! I am going to give each character and age and a general ethnicity even though A) time will pass in this au and B) obviously there are no countries in Pokemon. I will be giving them an age based on when the AU starts, at the beginning on Gloria’s Pokemon League Journey. 

GLORIA:

-Age: 16

-Ethnicity: Half English, Half Japanese (English father, Japanese mother)

-General Headcannons: 

o  She is an introverted extrovert. She loves meeting new people and making new friends, but she is on the quiet side due to her troubled relationship with her father. 

o  Going off of that, her parents got a divorce when she was 6 years old because her father was negligent. She has not been in contact with him since he left, but he is at the base of some of her social anxiety. That is why she mostly speaks either in short sentences or not at all (going off her interactions in the game). 

o  The thing that makes Gloria stand out as a Pokemon trainer is that she can pick up on her opponents nuances just by examining them. For example, if her opponent’s breathing quickens, she knows that they are nervous and will resort to mainly attacks. That is why it is so hard for her to beat Leon: He has an emotionless mask during his battles.

o  She picked up this strategy by watching GPL battles throughout her childhood. Gloria was often put in front of the television set to distract her from her parents fighting, and since she had to put so much of her attention towards the matches, she picked up on a lot of people’s ticks. 

o  Gloria is very clingy to Hop. She finds comfort in being near him, so she is often latching onto his arm, hugging him from behind, or holding his hand. The closer she gets to people, the more she hangs onto them. This is rough with Bede and Bea, so it takes a bit of work on both their ends to make sure they’re not making the other party unhappy. 

o  Gloria is ridiculously brave. She will go into pretty much any situation, which is why she just goes along when asked to join the dojo/go on an expedition. 

o  Speaking of expeditions, she looks up to Peony as the father figure she never had. She doesn’t outwardly tell him this because A) her relationship with her father really messed her up and B) the fact that he is related to Rose makes her a little wary. She knows how much Rose messed up Bede and does not want to cause more grief. 

o  Speaking of Bede, they actually become really close friends after the League wraps up and during Rose’s trial. Bede is one of the only people that can emphasise with her social anxiety, and luckily for him, Gloria doesn’t give up on people. She has to work on not being clingy with him because he does not like being touched. 

o  Gloria is the first female champion! 

o. Victor exists in this au, but not until way after Gloria’s first year as champion. He is her half brother; her father eventually remarried in Stow-In-Side and had Victor a year-ish later (making him 7 years younger than Gloria). They do not reunite until she is 20 years old, but she accepts him as her brother easily (she knows how terrible their dad is). 

o  Gloria’s full name is Gloria Park. She does not have a middle name. 

(I took the most liberties with Gloria because she is the MC and the game doesn’t give toooo much of a character. I know a lot of people head cannon her as super extroverted and confident, but I preferred this take for this particular AU).

HOP:

-Age: 16

-Ethnicity: Half Spanish, Half Black (His mom is Spanish, his dad is black)

-General Headcannons: 

o  Hop’s dad died when he was 2 years old, so he doesn’t really remember him. He never really had a father figure since Leon left to become Champion when he was 6. That is where is anxiety is rooted: Both his father (who was a firefighter and treated like a hero after his death) and Leon’s success makes Hop feel like he has to do something grand to live up to them. 

o  Hop actually befriended Gloria through their love of Pokemon battles! His mum invited her mum over for dinner, and while his and Gloria’s interactions were stiff at best during dinner, they really clicked after when they began watching the game on the TV. They’ve been inseparable ever since. 

o  I headcannon that Hop has ADD. He practically never sits still and has a hard time paying attention to things unless he is hyper focused. Hop is really booksmart, he just has trouble focusing. He also doesn’t really see the point in maintaining his grades when he’s just going to become the new Champion.

o  He played soccer when he was little as an outlet for his ADD. He joined the GJPL (Galar Junior Pokemon League), but since he was in a small district, he never made it to the big times like Bede. He did manage to score fairly well with his wooloo, though, making him one of the MVPs in the 76th GPL.

o  Hop is a nickname. HIs full name is “Hipoltio Henry Hoffman”. (Henry was his father’s name).

o Like Gloria, Hop is a really touchy person. They kind of rubbed off on each other, so he shows affection by linking arms, bumping shoulders, ect. 

o  After the GPL wraps up and he gets asked to be Sonia’s assistant, she gives him the opportunity to study abroad until he graduates high school. He takes this opportunity and briefly moves to study other Pokemon in Johto. He does come back to visit in the summer, which is why he ends up on the Isle of Armor around the same time as Gloria. 

BEDE:

-Age: 17

-Ethnicity: White 

-Headcannons:

o   He never met his parents, but he was told he was taken away from them by child protective services. This made him really bitter from the get-go because they never came back for him.

o   Bede has abandonment issues, but in a different way from Gloria. While she is willing to let anyone in, he is more prone to shut everyone out. He only starts to open up when he realizes Gloria’s life isn’t as perfect as he originally guessed.

o   Bede reeeeaaaallllyyyy doesn’t like being touched. He got into a lot of fights in the orphanage when he was younger because of his short temper. That is barely the tip of the iceberg: There was a lot of shady things that happened at the orphanage that only stopped once Chairman Rose started showing interest in him. Bede doesn’t talk about this to anyone.

o  Bede participated in the GJPL and made it to the championships two years in a row! He got to travel to Hoenn for one of them and meet the champion there. This was what brought Rose’s attention to him. 

o  The reason Bede didn’t join the league at 16 was because Rose didn’t sponsor him yet. Because of this, he decided to challenge Raihan for his position as gym leader of Hammerlocke. Sufficed to say, Bede lost pretty badly. 

o  He was very convinced that Rose was going to adopt him, which made his dismissal ten times worse than it originally was. He eventually comes to term with the fact that the Chairman used him and threw him under the bus when he realised that he could get in trouble for destroying the monument. 

o  Opal becomes his guardian when he accepts his new role as the Fairy Gym Leader, but she officially adopts him about a year later. He isn’t very good at talking about his emotions, but he does care deeply for the old woman and her acceptance of him brought him to tears. 

o   Bede gave himself his middle name: Steven, after Hoenn’s Champion Steven Stone. His full name is Bede Steven Doe pre-adoption, and Bede Steven Waltz post-adoption. 

o  He is super prickly, but after becoming gym leader, Bede mellows out a little bit. He is still haughty and self absorbed, but he is not as outwardly rude about it. 

o  He ends up forming a lot of unlikely relationships after he settles in his position as gym leader. He and Bea get along really well because of their proximity and similar personalities, Gloria won’t let him not be her friend (he has a soft side for her), and Marnie is one of the less eccentric gym leaders that he likes to hang around with at group gatherings. 

MARNIE:

-Age: 16

-Ethnicity: White

-Headcannons:

o   Marnie is the youngest of 5 children, and she is the only girl. Therefore, she was always coddled by her family. One of the biggest reasons she joined the pokemon league was to prove her true worth to her family.

o   Out of all her siblings, she is the closest to Piers. She doesn’t agree with his opposition to dynamaxing, but they are both passionate about restoring glory to Spikemuth. He also spent the most time with her when they were growing up because her parents worked a lot (Spikemuth is a poverty-stricken town). 

o   Marnie is quite the little activist. It is a little ironic because she is incredibly soft-spoken and will swear up a storm at the same time. 

o   She gains a lot of fans during her GPL alongside Gloria because they are both favourites to become the first female champion. Instead of forming a bitter rivalry with her, Marnie elects to befriend Gloria because she reminds her of her friend, Primrose. 

o   Marnie LOVES shopping. She never really had the chance to leave Spikemuth growing up, so a lot of her free time when not participating in Pokemon battles is spent in boutiques. 

o   One of Marnie’s special skills is that she can see right through a person’s core. That is why she is initially kind to Gloria, Hop, and Bede. On the other hand, she and Piers both constantly talk shit about Chairman Rose. She isn’t really a fan of Leon either, but she knows that he is a good person so she tries to be nice.

o   Speaking of Leon (to some degree), she immediately decides to befriend Hop when she realises he is also the younger sibling of a famous Pokemon trainer. They bond over their similar roles in life and their shared love of music! (Hop really likes Piers’s music and freaks out when he gets to meet him). 

o   Marnie can play the guitar and the piano! If she didn’t become a gym leader, she could definitely see herself going into music. 

o  I head cannon that Marnie is bisexual, but she is not currently aware of it. I will definitely talk more about this later in the AU or if I actually get around to writing a one shot. 

o  Her full name is Marnie Isla Lewis. 

Next Part: Gym Leaders! 

[miikewheelers]

GUYS I FINALLY MADE AN MC FOR OBEY ME AAAAAAA

(link to picrew)

name: ryan parkman gender: male (he/him, they/them acceptable) birthday: september 11, 1998 sign: virgo hair: red-brown eyes: blue-gray height: 5′9″ age: 22 orientation: bisexual relatives: shoshannah (mother), stephen parkman (father), marco coletti (younger half-brother) personality aspects: ESTP, 3w2, sanguine-choleric demon form details: black horns with red tips curling forwards once and slightly out to the side, four black bat-like wings with red tips, all jet-black clothing with an unusually shiny and large silver cross necklace

ryan parkman is a 22-year-old half-demon born to an irish-american father and demon mother. supposedly his mother died giving birth to him, but after his father passed away when he was 16, he found out from his grandmother in the demon world that shoshannah was actually reincarnated by diavolo, much like in the case of lilith (shoshannah and diavolo were very good friends). the process took a lot of time, and his father passed away before he could reunite with his lover. his mother had given birth to a son with an italian man shortly after his father died, and he found this out via his grandmother and diavolo. unfortunately, he never got to meet his mother, for she suffered a similar fate with him and died when her new son, marco, was only two years old. he met the boy when his grandmother took him to the human world specifically for that mission.

relationships with the brothers & headcanons (under the cut)

lucifer

unsurprisingly, ryan wasn’t actually scared of him when they first met

in fact, his first instinct was to directly challenge him

every other brother practically dropped their jaw to the floor when he snapped back at him

he was practically beat to the ground afterwards, but lucifer felt bad and made him some soup and tea

they had a conversation about the exchange program in his room while he was healing

they actually ended up bonding over their love for tea!

now they argue over the smallest things, but lucifer is comfortable being playful albeit bossy and strict with him when he makes snide remarks

mammon

he was probably the easiest one for ryan to get along with because their personalities were so similar

but he does end up stealing some of ryan’s money every now and then which pisses him off

usually it’s for lunch at school but he did end up getting some cool earrings on akuzon though

he usually takes the brunt of ryan’s anger at him, but he does try to fight back

joins levi in chasing mammon to get their money back

but yeah they’re pretty goofy with one another, they like to prank lucifer and write each other notes in class and chase each other down the halls and play hide and seek and just. be all dumb like besties ksfjhsdkjf

levi

okay so. ryan is a MASSIVE gamer and otaku himself and he absolutely LOOOOVES the tsl series

his mom taught his dad about it and got him obsessed with it, and he passed on the addiction to ryan when he was only eight years old

and he’s loved the whole lore ever since, so he and levi got along straight away

they could honestly spend HOURS talking about their favorite anime and give each other recommendations or just nerd out about tsl

and yeah they do bond over their “chasing mammon because he stole my lunch money” sessions

satan

so believe it or not ryan LOVES to read. but not just books with words on paper. he strongly prefers western comic books and japanese manga

satan is much more of a words on paper books kinda guy, but he’s an open book himself (teehee)

so he ends up bringing some comic books from the human world to show him

and what do you know? satan ends up kind of stanning captain america

they bond over their love for certain franchises and they have quiet reading sessions together, but ryan groans when satan suggests that they do studying for school

asmo

ryan is....confused at first, to say the least. he’s never really meet anyone as self-conscious, vain, and narcissistic as him

but he doesn’t really let that get in the way of his relationship with him

he often bugs ryan by asking him to check out a new piece of clothing he bought at majolish or a new skincare product he found, but he can’t leave him hanging because that would be too mean

cue the two of them heading to asmo’s room and the whole thing turns into a three-hour spa date because ryan finds that the mask asmo put on him actually feels...really nice

so yeah the two of them started a thing where they do at-home spa treatments together

beel

okay so. ryan was SO pissed at him at first because he ate the piece of barbatos’ cake that he made for him at the welcome party

but after seeing the softer side of beel and realizing that he’s just. endlessly hungry he couldn’t stay mad at him

in fact, ryan actually LOVES cooking and baking, so he and luke often team up for that and invite beel along when he wants to

he’s learned about all of beel’s favorite foods and recipes and enjoys cooking duty

he makes sure to throw in a few of beel’s favorite recipes on a night with dessert or when he’s feeling particularly generous

belphie

so he’s the only brother that ryan KNEW he could 100% stand from the very beginning

his mellow nature is a really great contrast to his own fiery and boisterous attitude

ryan LOVES nothing more than a good nap after a hard day of classes and other work, and belphie is the perfect napping buddy for him

despite their calm nature with each other, they both have pretty sharp tongues so they often find themselves hurling brunt albeit playful insults and comments at one another

secretly finds the seventh-born’s cuddly and sleepy nature pretty cute and endearing

he also kind of highkey has a crush on him shhh

random headcanons

his powers are somewhere around the satan/asmo dividing line. he’s not quite as powerful or as strong as satan, but he’s slightly higher on the scale than asmo.

that being said, he is nowhere near strong enough to jump between realms. he has to ask lucifer, diavolo, or barbatos for help

yes, he drinks bubble tea and likes pretty much everything on the starbucks menu (and the devildom equivalent)

prefers iced coffee with cream

is quite a major k-pop stan tbh. he likes blackpink, chung ha, mamamoo, and purple kiss the most, and he sometimes listens to bts, btob, and nct

he also enjoys western dance-pop artists like pitbull, ariana grande, hrvy, dua lipa, victoria monet, and r3hab. also likes to listen to hip-hop from time to time

needless to say, he has a very wide and diverse musical taste

he has a HUGE sweet tooth. he was quite a bit hesitant to try the devildom sweets because they were so incredibly foreign-looking to him, but he got over his fear and now he loves (most of) them

he has depression, anxiety, and ADHD

he’s never been in a romantic relationship and he didn’t have many friends growing up

pretty masculine on the outside, but actually enjoys exploring his feminine side as well. thanks to asmo, he’s grown much more comfortable doing so outright

his sin is pride

likes to dance, but he’s not great at it. doesn’t care and does it anyway

he played piano for a few years as a kid and he has a rather nice tenor voice (his speaking voice is probably closest to mammon’s)

he was born in and grew up in long island. he used to visit new york city with his dad at least once a year before he passed away

hasn’t been outside of the country and doesn’t even have a passport

biggest hobbies are reading comic books, listening to music, and playing video games

very much interested in the paranormal back in the human realm and likes to explore natural landmarks such as mines, caves, and older structures built in the centuries before he was born

definitely more to add later!!

[avaantares]

...And that’s why Vergil has been imprisoned on Fortuna all along.

Okay, this is my own headcanon about what happened between DMC1 and DMC5, but it’s actually supportable.

No, really, hear me out. (I’ve even included pictures. At least look at the pretty pictures!)

Approximately sixteen years pass between DMC1 and DMC5. There’s some debate about the exact passage of time, but general consensus based on the books, etc. is that Dante is 28 in DMC1 and 44-45 in DMC5. That’s a long time for Vergil to just be... not around. So where did he go for all that time?

Let’s start with the prequel: At the end of DMC3, Vergil yeets himself off a waterfall into the underworld, and goes directly to challenge Mundus without passing Go or collecting $200 (because that’s a smart thing to do when you’re seriously injured after five consecutive boss fights).

We’ve known all along he was destined to lose that battle. In Visions of V, we see more of what happened: Mundus breaks the Yamato, uses Vergil as a pincushion, and more or less wipes out his sense of self, turning him into Nelo [sic] Angelo. Keep in mind that this name is a known mistransliteration of Nero Angelo, which is Italian for Black Angel. (This will be relevant shortly.)

[Side note: It was pretty darn obvious that Nero was connected to Vergil as soon as they announced the character’s name in early DMC4 promotion, because Nero/Nero Angelo. I mean. They didn’t even try.]

In DMC1, Dante fights and defeats Nelo Angelo, who is last seen surrounded by lightning and glowing, after which his half of the amulet falls to the floor. When Dante looks up, Nelo Angelo is gone. We don’t actually see what happens to him at this point; Mundus just says in the following scene that Vergil has been defeated. Dante assumes he’s dead, but we never see a body.

It’s logical to assume that like Mundus, Vergil gets sucked back into the underworld when everything on Mallet Island collapses. Presumably the shards of the Yamato are still down there somewhere, as well. (Maybe Vergil even collects them. He is rather attached to that sword.)

Meanwhile (and continuing for some years up to DMC4) on Fortuna, the Order Needs More Power(TM) and is trying to open portals to the underworld to acquire it. They succeed in doing so, somehow recovering the pieces of the Yamato, which they use to force open more portals.

It’s my theory that the Yamato isn’t all they recover -- they also find Nelo Angelo, or what’s left of him. They don’t know that he’s Vergil (it’s unclear from the Order’s reaction to Dante whether they’re even aware that Vergil exists), but they do know he’s a powerful demonic creature that they can harvest tissue samples from.

There’s clear evidence for this in the game: On Fortuna, Nero and Dante face numerous enemies who seem to be variations on Nelo Angelo. Most notable is the Bianco Angelo (White Angel), which is said to have been “made from a fragment of a demon known as the ‘dark angel’.”

You don’t have to speak Italian to make the leap from Dark Angel to Nero Angelo, especially since this was translated from Japanese without consideration for the fact that the words were originally in two separate languages. (There are numerous such translation difficulties in this series; see also the reference to the sword names in DMC5, which can only be understood if you know which kanji are used to write Yamato in Japanese.)

Agnus is engineering demon hybrids in his creepy basement lab, which you can explore in Mission 6. In the “Angel Creation” lab there are, among other things, parts of demons or Angelos-in-progress (the gold wing-shaped things) and human bodies in cages. Examining them reveals (via text box) that they are basically soulless shells, presumably having had their souls sucked out to power the Bianco Angelo soldiers. This confirms that Agnus keeps both people and demons in storage for his experiments.

So the rest of DMC4 happens, Dante and Nero take down the Order, the Savior is destroyed, the castle collapses, lots of people die, and whoever is left in charge of Fortuna spreads a cover story that the city was damaged by an earthquake. Since Dante has killed Agnus and most of the Order’s leadership, and it’s stated in game dialogue that very few people even know Agnus or his lab existed, I’m guessing all those bodies hanging around in cages just remain where they are (deep underground, sealed off from the outside) during the subsequent reconstruction of the city. If Nero Angelo is there, he’s staying put for a while.

Five years pass. Nero and Kyrie stay on Fortuna and rebuild. Kyrie runs the orphanage, while Nero opens the Devil May Cry mobile outfit with Nico (per both Before the Nightmare and the DMC5 files).

During this time, Vergil somehow regains enough of his strength to stagger out of wherever he’s been stored/hiding/trapped. His body is breaking down, but seeking the Yamato, he makes it as far as Nero’s garage, wearing a leather cloak strangely reminiscent of the one he wore when he visited Fortuna previously. Maybe he had it stashed somewhere, or just knew where to find another one like it.

DMC4 SE:

DMC5:

So let’s recap: Prior to taking Nero’s arm, Vergil doesn’t have the Yamato, so he can’t open portals. He can barely walk, so he’s not in any condition to travel long distances. He’s too weak to transform to DT, and presumably doesn’t yet have SDT, so he can’t fly to an island under his own power.

He has to already be on Fortuna to be able to get to Nero. And the only way he could reasonably be on Fortuna is if someone -- most likely working for the Order -- opened a portal and let him out of the underworld, where he was trapped after DMC1. The Order clearly used him to make the Bianco Angelo, and likely kept him contained, since he never claimed the Yamato for himself while it was in the possession of the Order, and didn’t come after it for five years after the Order’s collapse. Evidently it took him that long to get free.

So anyway, there’s my theory about Vergil being on that island THE WHOLE TIME during the events of DMC2, the DMC anime, and DMC4, and Dante never realized he was within arm’s reach of his brother.

Discuss.

[nouveauweird]

A Short Essay on Metaphor by Ocean Vuong

The following is a transcription of the instagram stories shared by Ocean Vuong on the subject of metaphor, which I found quite moving, and hope others can take something valuable from it as well. You can find the originals on his instagram highlights.

Each paragraph below is transcribed from one instagram story slide.

[ The first part is Vuong’s answer to the initial question that sparked the discussion, he went on to elaborate some more, but in his longer discussion several days later he reused some of the same examples so I will only be featuring the longer, 25 slide, “mini essay”. ]

QUESTION: How do you make sure your metaphors have real depth?

VUONG: metaphors should have two things: sensory (visual, texture, sound, etc) connector between origin image and the transforming image as well as a clear logical connector between images if you only have one of either, best to forego the metaphor. otherwise it will seem forced or read like “writing” if that makes sense.

[ elaborated discussion ] 

I’ve gotten so many responses from folks the the past few days asking for a deeper dive into my personal theory on metaphor. So I’m taking a moment here to do a more in-depth mini essay since my answer the Q/A the other day was off the cuff (I was typing while walking to my hair cut appointment). What I’m proposing, of course, is merely a THEORY, not a gospel, so please take whatever is useful to you and ignore what isn’t. ...

Before I begin I want to encourage everyone to forge your own theories and praxis for your work, especially if you’re a BIPOC artist. Often we are perceived by established powers as merely “performers” suitable for a (brief) stint on stage-- but not thinkers and creators with our own autonomy, intelligence, and capacity to question the framework in our fields.

It is not lost on me as a yellow body in America, with the false connotations therein, where I’m often seen as diminutive, quiet, accommodating, agreeable, submissive, that I am not expected to think against the grain, to have my own theories on how I practice my art and my life. I became a writer knowing I am entering a field (fine arts) where there are few faces like my own (and with many missing), a field where we are expected to succeed only when we pick up a violin or a cello in order to serve Euro-Centric “masterpieces”. For so long, to be an Asian American “prodigy” in art was to be a fine-tuned instrument for Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven.

It is no surprise, then, that if you, as a BIPOC artist, dare to come up with your own ideas, to say “no” to what they shove/have been shoving down your throat for so long, you will be infantilized, seen as foolish, moronic, stupid, disobedient, uneducated and untamed. Because it means the instrument that was once in service of their “work” has now begun to speak, has decided, despite being inconceivable to them, to sing its own songs. I want you, I need you, to sing with me. I want to hear what you sound like when it’s just us, and you sound so much like yourself that I recognize you even in the darkest rooms, even when I recognize nothing else. And I know your name is “little brother” or “big sister” or “light beam,” or “my-echo-returned-to-me-intact.” And I smile. In the dark I smile.

Art has no rules-- yes-- but it does have methods, which vary for each individual. the following are some of my own methods and how I came to them. I’m very happy y’all are so into figurative language! It’s my favorite literary device because it reveals a second IDEA behind an object or abstraction via comparison. When done well, it creates what I call the “DNA of seeing.” That is, a strong metaphor “Greek for “to carry over”) can enact the autobiography of sight. For example, what does it say about a person who sees the stars in the night sky-- as exit wounds? What does it say about their history, their worldview, their relationship to beauty and violence? All this can be garnered in the metaphor itself-- without context-- when the comparative elements have strong multifaceted bonds. How we see the world reveals who we are. And metaphors explicate that sight.

My personal feeling is that the strongest metaphors do not require context for clarity. However, this does not mean that weaker metaphors that DO require context are useless or wrong. Weak metaphors use context to achieve CLARITY. Strong metaphors use context to SUPPORT what’s already clear. BOTH are viable in ANY literary text. But for the sake of this deeper exploration into metaphors and their gradients, I will attempt to identify the latter.

I feel it is important for a writer to understand the STRENGTS of the devices they use, even when WEAKER versions of said devices can achieve the same goal via different means. Sometimes we want a life raft, sometimes we want a steam boat-- but we should know which is which (for us). My focus then, will be specifically the ornamental or overt metaphor. That is, metaphors that occur inside the line-- as opposed to conceptual, thematic, extended metaphors, or Homeric simile (which is a whole different animal).

My thinking here begins with the (debated) theory that similes reside under metaphors. That is, (non-Homeric) similes, behave cognitively, like metaphors. This DOES NOT mean that similes do not matter (far from it), as we’ll see later on, but that the compared elements, once read, begin to merge in the mind, resulting in a metaphoric OCCURENCE via a simileac vehicle.

This thinking is not entirely my own, but one informed by my interest in Phenomenology. Founded by Edmund Husserl in the early 20th century and later expanded by Heidegger, Phenomenology is, in short, interested in how objects or phenomena are perceived in the mind, which renewed interest in subjectivity across Europe, as opposed to the Enlightenment’s quest for ultimate, finite truths. By the time Husserl “discovered” this, however, Tibetan Buddhists scholars have already been practicing Phenomenology as something called Lojong, or “mind training”, for over half a millennia.

Whereas Husserl believes, in part, that a finite truth does exist but that the myopic nature of human perception hinders us from seeing all of it, Tibetan Lojong purports that no finite “truth” exists at all. In Lojong, the world and its objects are pure perception. That is, a fly looks at a tree and sees, due to its compound eyes, hundreds of trees, while we see only one. For Buddhists, neither fly nor human is “correct” because a fixed truth is not present. Reality is only real according to one’s bodily medium.

I’m keenly interested in Lojong’s approach because it inheritably advocates for an anti-colonial gaze of the world. If objects in the real are not tenable, there is no reason they should be captured, conquered or pillaged. In other words, we are in a “simulation” and because there is no true gain in acquiring something that is only an illusion, it is better to observe and learn from phenomena as guests passing through this world with respect to things-- rather than to possess them.

The reason I bring this up is because Buddhist philosophy is the main influence of 8th century Chinese and 15th-17th century Japanese poetics, which fundamentally inform my understanding of metaphor. While I appreciate Aristotle’s take on metaphor and rhetoric in his Poetics, particularly his thesis that strong metaphors move from species to genus, it is not a robust influence on my thinking. After all, like sex and water, metaphors have been enjoyed by humans across the world long before Aristotle-- and evidently long after. In fact, Buddhist teachings, which widely employ metaphor and analogy, predates Aristotle by roughly 150 years. 

Now, to better see how Buddhist Phenomenology informs the transformation of images into metaphor, let’s look at this poem by Moritake. “The fallen blossom flies back to its branch. No, a butterfly.” When considering (western-dominated) discourse surrounding analogues using “like” or “is”, is this image a metaphor or a simile? It is technically neither. The construction of this poem does not employ metaphor or simile. And yet, to my eye, a metaphor, although not present, does indeed HAPPEN.

What’s more, the poem, which is essentially a single metaphor, is complete. No further context is needed for its clarity. If context is needed for a metaphor, then the metaphor is (IMO) weak-- but that doesn’t mean the writing, as a whole, is bad. Weak metaphors and good context bring us home safe and sound. Okay, so what is happening here? By the time I read “butterfly,” my mind corrects the blossom so that the latter image retroactively changes/informs the former. We see the blossom float up, then re-see it as a butterfly. The metaphoric figuration is complete with or without “like” or “is”.

Buddhism explains this by saying that, although a text IS thought, it does not THINK. We, the readers, must think upon it. The text, then, only curates thinking. Words, in this way, begin on the page but LIVE in the mind which, due to limited and subjective scope of human perception, shift seemingly fixed elements into something entirely new. The key here is proximity. Similes provide buffers to mediate impact between two elements, but they do not rule over how images coincide upon reading. One the page, text is fossil; in the mind, text is life.

Nearly 5000 years after Maritake, Ezra Pound, via Fenolosa, reads Maritake’s poem and writes what becomes the seminal poem on Imagism in 1912, which was subsequently highly influential to early Modernists: “The apparition of these faces in the crowd: Petals on a wet, black bough.” Like Maritake, Pound’s poem technically has no metaphor or simile. However, he adds the vital colon after “crowd,” which arguably works as an “equal sign”, thereby implying metaphor. But the reason why he did not use “are” or “is” is telling.

Pound understood, like Maritake, that the metaphor would occur in the mind, regardless of connecting verbiage due to the images’ close proximity. We would come to know this as “association”. Even if the colon was replaced by the word “like,” the transformation, though a bit slower, would still occur. In fact, when I first studied Pound years ago, I had trouble recalling whether this poem was fashioned as a simile or not-- mainly because the faces change to fully into blossoms each time I try to recall the poem.

Now let’s look at a simile that, to me, metaphorizes in the same way as the examples above, in [a] line ... from Eduardo C. Corral: “Jade moss on the tree intensifies, like applause.” The origin/tenor image (moss) is connected to the transforming element (applause). This metaphor suggests, not an optical relationship, but a BEHAVIORAL one. Both moss and applause are MASSES that accumulate via singularities: grains of moss and pairs of hands clapping to form a larger whole.

By comparing these two, Corral successfully suggests that moss grows at the RATE of applause, creating a masterful time lapse effect. Applause speeds up the moss growth, connoting rejuvenation, joy and refreshment. That something as mundane as moss deserves, even earns, jubilance, also offers a potent statement of alterity, that the smallest flourishing deserves celebration, which in turn suggests a subtle yet powerful political critique of hegemony. The poet, through the metaphor, has recalibrated the traditional modes of value placed on the object (moss). And no other context is needed for that.

You might disagree, but when I read Corral’s line, I don’t SEE an audience clapping BESIDE the moss. I see moss growing quickly to the sound of clapping. Although the simile is employed, the fusion of both elements completes the action in my mind’s eye. Like Maritake and Pound, metaphor has OCCURRED here-- but without “metaphor”. HOWEVER, the simile is still VITAL. Why?

Because the transforming element is abstract (applause) and looks nothing like moss. We don’t want moss to BE applause, we want the nature of applause to inform, imbue, moss. The line, I feel, would be quite poor if it was formed sans simile: “Jade moss is applause on the tree.” The “is” forces transposition, which is here akin to slamming two things together without mediation. We also lose the comparison of behavior, and are asked to see that moss BECOME applause, which doesn’t have the same meaning as the original. So, although the simile fuses into metaphor (via association) in the mind, such a metaphor would NOT have been possible without the simile. Similes matter greatly-- as tools towards metaphor. Why? Because (thank god) our minds are free to roam.

To summarize, one of the central strategies (and, to an extent, purposes) of the Japanese Haiku is to juxtapose two elements to test their synergy. This impulse is grounded in Shinto and Buddhist concepts of impermanence and structural malleability. That is, all things, even ideas and images, are subject to constant change-- and such change is the most pervasive nature of perception. 

The Haiku then becomes the perfect medium to test such changes. This principle is of central importance to me because it is rooted in non-dualistic (or non-binary) thinking. The poem becomes the theatre in which fixed elements can be transformed, their borders subject to being dissolved, shifting towards something entirely new-- to “create”, which is the Greek root to the word “poet”. The metaphor, then, is more like a chemical, whose elements (like hydrogen and oxygen), placed side by side, becomes water. In this way, Buddhism’s influence on my work and, specifically, my use and understanding of metaphor, is a foundational QUEER praxis for alterity. 

The reason why I emphasize the malleability of simile’s impact is that, although syntax and diction can aide a metaphor towards its more luminous embodiment, the ultimate key to its success is you, the observer. YOU have look deeply and find lasting relationships between things in a disparate world. In this sense, the practice of metaphor is also, I believe, the practice of compassion. How do I study a thing so that I might add to its life by introducing it to something else? At its best, the metaphor is what we, as a species, have always done, at OUR best: which is to point at something or someone so different from us, so far from our own origins and say, “Yes, there IS a bond between us. And if I work long enough, hard enough, I can prove it to you-- with this thing called language, this thing that weighs nothing but means everything to me.”

In the end, it is less about how you set up your metaphors (you will eventually find a way that suits it and you) but more about how you recognize your world. THAT is not easy to teach-- it comes with patient practice, with a committed wonder for a world that at times might be too painful to look at. But you must and you should. Good metaphors, in the end, come from writers who are committed to looking beyond what is already there, towards another possibility. This calls that you see your life and your work as inexhaustible sites of discovery, and that you tend to them with care. That’s it. That’s the true secret to a strong metaphor: care.

Lastly, I want to recommend the work of BIPOC poet and theorist, Thylias Moss, who discovered the Limited Fork Theory, a theory which suggests that the mind engages with the world, and especially with ideas, including text and art, the way the tines of a fork engage with a plate of food. That is, only so much can be held on the work/mind with each attempt to consume, and that no “work” can be possessed in its entirety, which I find happily congruent with Lojong. What a wonderful anti-imperialist and forgiving way to engage with our planet and its phenomena. Thank you, Mrs. Moss! 

And thank YOU for sticking around through my little seminar. I hope this has been helpful. Again, this is just my 2(5) cents! Now I’m going to sleep for four days. In the meantime, me-ta-phors be with you. [concludes with a pixel gif of Obiwan Kenobi with a blue light saber]

[lunarsaga]

EPISODE 1: Here Comes Trouble

[[HERE WE GO, BITCHES! Fanfic and Fanart combine to make some unholy mix of Time Consumption that will not leave me alone.

THE LUNAR SAGA, EPISODE 1, START!

Note: the text in the panels doesn't match the actual written portion of the fic ^^; I tried my best but I didn't wanna redraw all of this... ]]

===============

Kagome had been gone longer than she usually was, and Inuyasha was getting impatient.

They’d finally gotten their first lead on Naraku since his disappearance—that he was heading in the direction of the Ox and Tiger (Kagome called it “noh-rth-eest”?)—this was no time for her to be going back to her world! He tried to tell her that when she left, but she insisted that she was going home to bring back something that would help them.

She’d been gone for almost ten days now! What could possibly be taking so long?!

The half demon sat beside the well, seething as he waited for something to happen. He’d been at this pretty much constantly since the day after she left. He had half a mind to follow her down the well to her world and drag her back here; he’d done it before, he could do it again.

“Don’t you dare follow me!” Kagome had said before she left, “I might be gone a while, but I promise it’ll be worth it!”

“Ain’t worth it if we lose track of Naraku because you’re taking so long,” he growled to no one in particular. Obviously, he got no response from the dry well, so he stood up and raised his voice: “HURRY THE HELL UP, KAGOME!”

“Inuyasha?”

Inuyasha jumped from surprise when he saw Kagome hop up out of the well. She sat on the edge, smiling just softly. A little embarrassed that he was yelling at the well, Inuyasha folded his arms and cleared his throat.

“It’s about time you got back, Kagome,” he said. “What took you so damn long?!”

Kagome sighed, still smiling as she set her feet on the ground and stepped closer to him. “I told you, I had to get something. It took a second, but I said it’d be worth it, didn’t I?”

“I hope you’re right,” he snorted, “Because if Naraku gets away cos you took too long over there—”

He didn’t get to finish his thought. He hadn’t been paying attention to the well at all; usually, he wouldn’t have needed to. This time, he would definitely regret it. From the depths of the well came a voice he’d never heard before:

“HEADS UP!”

He didn’t even have time to wonder who the hell’s voice it was. Seconds later, something heavy flew out of the well and smacked him square in the face.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

Kagome laughed nervously, holding her hands up, “Uh… that would be her.”

Anger boiling and holding his freshly bruised nose, Inuyasha shouted back at her: “WHO?!”

“Keep your pants on!” Came that same voice again. Inuyasha turned his attention back to the well as someone he’d never seen before pushed herself out of the well.

She dressed strangely—that was a given, she seemed to be from Kagome’s time—and carried a large, oddly-shaped bag on her back. She had thick waves of black hair, much longer than Kagome’s, but pretty much the same shade of jet black. Not only that, she seemed to resemble Kagome in a lot of ways, even if she looked much older. They had the same shape of face, the same nose, and the same round, brown eyes—although, if he looked close enough, he could see a strange pattern in this girl’s irises: little flecks of pale gold, asymmetrically surrounding her pupils.

Inuyasha was immediately on edge, his hand going instinctively for his sword hilt. Kagome saw, and shook her head, setting her hand on his arm.

“Relax, Inuyasha,” She said, “This is who I went back to get.”

“Sorry, did my bag getcha?” The girl asked as she hopped out of the well.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome continued, gesturing to the older girl, “Allow me to introduce you to my older sister. This is Luna.”

For a second, it didn’t set in. Inuyasha blinked once… twice… “Your… sister? You have a sister?!”

“She sure does,” the girl—Luna—stood tall, grinning and holding out her hand. As she did, she said something he didn’t understand. It sounded like weird gibberish. When she saw his face, she laughed and smacked her palm to her forehead. “Right, sorry. Still getting used to speaking Japanese more than I do English.”

Once again confused, Inuyasha just stared at her. “In-glesh?”

Luna nodded. “It’s the common language where I live.”

“Inuyasha, Luna lives in a different place than the rest of our family,” Kagome explained, “She lives in a country that’s across the ocean, called America.”

“A-mare-i-kah…” Inuyasha tried to say. “Sounds weird.”

“Oh it is, definitely.” Luna laughed, going to pick up her bag.

“Is that what took you so long?” Inuyasha asked Kagome, “You had to wait for her to travel across the ocean?”

“Didn’t take as long as you’d think, had to visit mom and gramps and Sota, too.” It was weird how casual this girl was about everything. “But I can explain why I’m here and where I’m from once we get to where we’re going, right?”

“Right,” Kagome agreed, smiling as she led her sister back toward Kaede’s village. “You gotta meet everyone else, too!”

“Looking forward to it.”

Inuyasha wasn’t sure how to process what the hell just happened. It was a lot of information in a very short amount of time, most of which he didn’t understand, and all of which he didn’t really like. He wasn’t sure how to feel about a new person joining their group, nevermind that he never knew Kagome had more family than the ones he’d met before. And the fact that she threw a heavy bag at his face certainly didn’t help. (Well… it was an accident, but still. It hurt.)

Well… at least Kagome was back, and the most important thing was that they could get on with their search for Naraku.

~ ~ ~

Alright, time to back up a little bit.

Now, there may have been a reason why Kagome didn’t really mention her sister. Part of it might have been that it would be hard to explain that her sister lived on another continent, but another part might have been that it would be even harder to explain why. And the reason it would be so hard to explain—for Kagome specifically—would be because of their father.

Now, the Higurashi family had quite a long history of shrine keepers, priests, and priestesses, dating back several hundred years. Along with that lineage came a propensity for spiritual magic and a connection to the supernatural, as well as the metaphysical, and Keiichirou Higarashi—father to Kagome, Luna, and Sota— was no exception. However, he had bigger dreams than shrine-keeping.

A bit of a rebel, Keiichirou spent some time in America during High School as a part of an exchange program. It was there, through the family that hosted him, that he found a world that he never would have imagined.

The underground world of Supernatural Monster Hunters.

He spent his high school years in America learning all about it: how to fight and protect people against different monsters, some of them like the ones his father told him stories of growing up. When he returned home, he declared that he’d found his calling, and when he could finally afford to, he would move to America to follow it.

His father worried about the fate of the Higurashi Shrine if his only child were to abandon their family’s legacy. Keiichirou wouldn’t back down, but found when he returned home, that the Hunting world extended even to Japan—not quite to the extent that it was in the States, but he could still find a middle ground between what he wanted and what his father did.

And in the interim, he fell in love and married a wonderful woman named Mei, who accepted his weird, secret world wholeheartedly.

The Higurashis’ first child was born on the first day of November, during a very full Harvest Moon. When she opened her eyes for the first time, the doctor immediately diagnosed her with partial Heterochromia; her hazel-brown eyes were speckled with gold just around her irises, making it look like she had little crescent moons in her eyes. Keiichirou chose her name for these reasons; he’d heard it when he was in America, a name that meant “moon”. Luna.

It was seven years until their next child came into the world: Kagome, named for the eight-pointed star Mei saw on her chest after she was born. Keiichirou was excited when he heard about that; he said that both of his girls had special gifts, and hoped they would one day do amazing things with them.

But another six years passed… and things weren’t so happy in the Higurashi house. Keiichirou had already started teaching Luna about the Supernatural world, where Mei thought she was too young. Keiichirou had grown weary over the years, still longing to go back to America, where the Hunter culture was strongest.

When Luna was thirteen, Kagome six, and Sota only a newborn, their parents separated.

Luna was old enough at that point, that her parents let her decide where she wanted to be. Enthralled by the idea of being a Hunter, she wanted to follow her father, even if it meant leaving the rest of her family.

Travel between the two countries was difficult; Luna was lucky if she saw her little sister and brother once a year. But they kept in touch as much as they could: by letter, by email, and a phone call every once in a while.

Then, just four years after he and Luna left Japan, Keiichirou passed away very suddenly of an illness. Despite her family’s insistence that she come back and live in Japan, Luna remained in her father’s house. She knew, by then, that she was too far into the Hunter world to leave; not to mention that she had Alice (an old family friend, let’s say for now), who had been helping take care of her anyway. So she stayed in America, as five more years went by.

She hadn’t talked to her sister in months, when she got a call from her out of the blue:

“Hey Luna, um… So, I’ve got quite the story to tell you…”

~ ~ ~

So here she was, Luna Higurashi, a 22-year-old American Monster Hunter, standing 500-ish years in the past, explaining herself to a half-dog-demon, a kitsune, a nekomata, a Demon Slayer, and a Buddhist Monk. All of whom were extremely surprised to find that Kagome had a sister.

“Nice to get to meet you all,” She said, “Kagome told me all about your adventures. She brought me here to help you get rid of that Naraku guy.”

“Kagome never told us she had a sister!” The little kitsune—Shippo—piped up first.

“So I’ve heard,” Luna chuckled, crossing her arms.

Sango, the Demon Slayer, looked rather interested in the guitar case Luna was carrying on her back. “You mentioned you were a Slayer too? That must be an impressive weapon you’re carrying.”

“Huh? Oh, no,” Luna shook her head, tugging on the strap. “This is just my guitar. It’s a musical instrument—all my weapons are in my duffel bag.”

While her attention was on Sango, Luna failed to notice the monk approaching her until he took her hand in his. “A demon slayer and a musician! To think Kagome never told us she had such a beautiful and accomplished sister.”

Luna just stared at him, but she could feel the tension rising from the Slayer next to her. It was like standing next to a crackling thunderstorm with lightning bolts ready to strike. But she had nothing to worry about, Luna wasn’t about to fall for it.

“Never did mention me, huh?” She reversed the gentle grip Miroku had on her hand, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it sideways; a warning. “But she did tell me about you. And if you value your hands, you’ll keep them to yourself.”

Miroku laughed nervously, “Ahahaha—ow! Th-there’s no need to be rash! I meant nothing by it!”

The thunderstorm was gone. Sango was smirking as Luna let the monk go. “Oh, I like her.”

Kagome sighed, shook her head and smiled. “Welcome to the group, sis.”

[eli-corvis]

The Devil Amongst the Dead

Summary: It has been some time since the Kengan Annihilation Tournament and while many believed Ohma Tokita [The Asura] to be dead he is in fact still alive. Hidden in the Kure Village and recovering from his heart transplant performed by none other than Hanafusa Hajime [The Dissector] himself. But this story is not about him. No it’s about the Kure Clan’s strongest but most out of control member. Kure Raian [The Devil] and what would be his usual assassination contract takes an unexpected turn when he is sent to an island city with just as much crime and corruption as The Inside. This city is called Roanapur. Known to many who live there as the city of the dead.

Prologue: The Devil Approaches

[Six Months After the Kengan Annihilation Tournament]

Black sclera eyes slowly open up to see a clear blue sky. The scent of sea salt from the ocean is heavy as the sounds of seagulls can be heard overhead. “Hm, must be here already” thought the young man as he sat up from where he was laying down from. Rubbing his black sclera eyes and taking in his surroundings to still be on top of a shipping container on board a cargo ship he stowed away on. He looked around to see he was close to his destination and from a distance he saw a large headless Buddha statue carved in a tall rock and beyond that further away is a city resting on an island.

“Heh, so this is where the bastard is hiding” he scoffed to himself “about time I got here, I was getting tired of hiding on this piece of shit like a fuckn rat ” he said as he stood up to get a better view as the cargo ship approaching the island. The man on board this cargo is none other the Kure Raian. A member of the infamous Kure Clan that has been around for 1,300 year. Looking back on the events that led up to this Raian started to wonder “why did the old man pick me for this shit?. Normally I could’ve been sent off to wipe out a crime syndicate, a terrorists cell, or even some elitist asshole with enough money to hire a private army. At least those got my blood pumping.” Irritated that he could’ve been on a job that usually left a trail of body has Raian pissed off at the fact he allowed the old man tricked him into taking this contract in the first place.

[48 hours ago in the Kure Village Around a particular city, 500 kilometers away from Tokyo]

Kure Erioh the Patriarch of the Kure Clan was given an unusual commission for a contract by an anonymous client, to a place he hasn’t been to in years, Roanapur. An old Thai port in southern Thailand, where the deserters and the losers of the Vietnam War took refuge and were joined by the worst villains and criminals of the planet. Prostitutes, drug-addicts, mercenaries, killers, and psychopaths of any nationalities compose the population of Roanapur.

Erioh’s knowledge of this crime infested cesspool is limited due to only have gone there during his time as The Fang. Any useful information is hard to come by without a inside source. But luckily for him he has just the right man for the job. Having his great-grandson summoned to the main room of the Traditional Japanese house, Raian walked in and approached the head of the Clan “What do ya want grandfather?” Raian said clearly annoyed at being called upon, Erioh didn’t seem to care of his grandson's annoyance. “I got a job for you Raian, something to get you more active since The Tournament” Raian arched an eyebrow at this “well I’m not interested in whatever bullshit you got for me, get one of The Three Stooges to run your damn errands.” Raian referring to Kure Hollis, Kure Reiichi, and Kure Horio. “Their each fulfilling their own obligations at the moment. And I’m sure that this contract will not bore the likes of you, if i was to send you, their is nobody more suited for this contract, or must i send someone else take this contract.” He said while stroking his chin in thought. “Perhaps this might be that too much for you to handle you spoiled brat.”

Erioh said mockingly while giving Raian a challenging smirk. Raian returns the smirk with a murderous grin of his own. “Better watch it old man or I might just kill you right here and now” he said as he took a step closer to his elder. “You can try boy, but as I stated before, I’m not going to let some snot-nose brat kill me just yet. Besides I think you’ll find that this worthwhile if you were to listen for once, I can be sure of that.”

Erioh calmly said as he stood up from where he was sitting and headed towards the door, Raian adamantly followed right behind him. “Ever since your fight against Tokita Ohma and Hayami Katsumasa's Guardians back on Ganryu Island you have not been active in these past six months.” Erioh gave Raian a glance over his shoulder as they walk down the long halls of the Traditional Japanese house. “Yeah so what, still haven’t give me a damn good reason why I should take this job in the first place.” Raian angrily said “Patience Raian, patience. First you’ll need to be informed on your target” arriving at the back door of the house Erioh opened the door to reveal Kure Fusui.

Raian’s younger sister and the liaison between the Kure Clan and the Kengan Association, she turned around to greet her grandfather “Hello grandfather, how are you doing?” she said to while walking up to and embracing him in a hug. “Oh I’m doing just fine don’t worry about this old man, tell me how have you been my dear?” Erioh said being the doting grandfather he is known for amongst the the Kure Clan. Fusui smiled and perked up “I’m doing great grandfather, and before you ask Karla is doing good as well both in school and at home, and Mr. Yamashita though still broken up about Ohma, he’s done quite well from himself these past few months. Speaking of Ohma, how is he doing?” She asked curiously. “Oh don’t you worry my dear Fusui, Tokita Ohma is doing just fine and with the help of our secret healing techniques, he will recover in no time.”

“I’m glad to hear that” she said with a smile. “So what are you and big bro up to?” she asked just noticing that her older brother was standing there with his arms crossed. “Remember that special task i asked of you before you left?” He asked. Fusui perked up “That Roanapur job right?.” Erioh nodded “Well from what I could gather I’ve confirmed the target has been spotted there but it seems like he’s hired one of the local gangs as hired muscle, so getting to him quickly won’t be so easy, and even if you manage to take care of both of them the other gangs will most likely jump in, which will make things more complicated” she stated “Well that won’t be much of an issue, because your brother will be taking the contract, won’t you Raian” Erioh said in a taunting manner.

“You sure about that grandfather, I mean I have no doubt big bro can deal with this no problem but-” Fusui was then interrupted by her brother “Hey now the old man has been very persistent about this shit, so tell me who’s the fucker that the old bastard is sending me kill and I might just consider it.” Raian said eagerly “Oh, umm alright then.” She then pulls out a laptop from inside her bag and passes it to Raian.

Raian takes the laptop, opening it up to see the screen presented to him.

[Contract Briefing]

•Target name: Dr. Alton Blonsky

•Age: 59

• Occupation: Bioengineer/Geneticist

• Adjective: Eliminate Dr. Blonsky and destroy any and all research found and eliminate any and all who would stand between your adjective.

• Last Confirmed Location: Roanapur, Thailand

• Target Price: $50,000,000

• Target information: Dr.Blonsky is a Bioengineer and Geneticist and researcher for genetics he has went into hiding after it was discovered you was selling his unethical research on the black market for the highest bidder. Years after his disappearance sources have spotted him active in the city of Roanapur. He is seemingly under the employment/protection of the local criminal organization.

• Payment Method: Upon accepting this contract the first half of the payment will be sent through wireless transaction method of your choice. And receive other half of payment upon completion.

[End of Briefing]

□Accept □Decline

Raian closed the laptop and handed it back to Fusui. “So some mad scientist is selling trying the secret of immorality or some shit right?” Taking the laptop back and placing it back inside her bag Fusui shook her head and said “I don’t know the details on what he was working on or who’s he trying to sell his research too, all I know is that some very big players are going to be interested in buying whatever he has cooking up, so whatever he’s making it must be a really big deal.” Erioh then stepped into the conversation. “So, Raian tell me do you accept?”

[48 hours later on the Ports of Roanapur]

As the crew of the cargo ship started to unload their shipments and do an inventory check Raian snuck pass all of the of the crew without them even noticing he was there. Now heading to the main street through the docks he pulls a piece of paper Fusui has given him before taking off with all contact information he will be needing during his time here. “Don’t plan on being here long but this shit will come in handy when I need it.” He said to himself as he reads off the address for his safe house with a side note at the below saying.

“While you’re there can you do me a huge solid and pick up a modified sniper rifle I ordered there, it should’ve been sent out days ago but since you’re there you can do it for me please, appreciate it bro.

-Love your favorite sister Fusui.♥︎”

Raian could only scoff while reading the note his sister left him. “The hell does she think I am, her errand boy” reading the address the only thing it said was The Church of Violence “I don’t got time for this shit” he said as he balled up the piece of paper and placed it back inside his pocket before walking off towards the direction of his safe house.

The city of Roanapur is known for many things, one of which is being the world capital for crime and corruption, for criminals and madmen to thrive. But now The Devil has arrived, beware for the man know as The Devil has come, and he will destroys any and all that stands in his way.

Author's Note: Hey ya’ll, if you haven’t figured it out yet this is a Kengan Ashura x Black Lagoon crossover the idea kinda popped in head one day and I was like “how am I going to make this work” so days of brainstorming later I’ve my story layout but the question was who am I going to send from kengan to the den of criminals, and obviously my first choice was Raian but the i thought about it some more and thought about having Agito Kanoh, Hatsumi Sen, Muteba Gizenga, Kiryu Setsuna, hell even Tokita Niko came to mind. The setting of black lagoon takes place in the early 1990s so it make a lot more sense for Niko to be there timeline wise but after talking about it with another writer here I stuck with Kure Raian, now this is my first fanfiction, like every but that will be no excuse for my writing to be shit, like spelling mistakes or grammar errors or major OFC. I’ll do my best to stay faithful to each character. And since I’ve picked Raian for this story, I’ll be making some small changes to the black lagoon universe to fit with the world of Kengan. If you haven't noticed I implied that Kure Erioh has been to Roanapur in the past, who know I might just make a side story exploring that plot point...maybe. Ok that’s enough of me ranting for now, until next time.

[etn-story-archive]

Enter the Nomicon - Chapter 16: Dream a Little Dream of Me

.

It was almost dreamlike, unreal and light, like he would fly away into the endless abyss of the night. The entirety of the sensation seemed strangely familiar, yet he was unable to place it. The only true sign of the reality he was in came from what he saw and what he felt all around him.

The nightly air was thick and laced with a heaviness that rested at his chest. There were brief intervals of gentle breezes that carefully combed through shaggy, disheveled hair. Sadly, the airy waves did little to truly alleviate the foreboding sense of suffocation. Still, Randy appreciated the small comfort the breeze provided. It helped to calm his shot nerves, allowing him to think about more pressing matters at hand. Especially the ones that pertained to his current situation; Randall Cunningham was dead, or at least that was what he thought. But how else could he explain all of this--where he was, and the lack of remembrance as to how he got there?

Randy took a conscious step forward, before stopping to carefully eye his surroundings for, what he could only guess, was the uptenth time in the past several minutes. He was standing in the heart of what appeared to be a large village that practically screamed ‘ancient Japan’ with its charming and regal architecture. The large community itself appeared to be heavily inspired by Little Norrisville, but even then, Little Norrisville held a stronger sense of modernity compared to here, wherever that may be; it certainly wasn't from his time.

This had left Randy utterly confused, because how could he be somewhere other than his own time, and not remember how he has gotten there? 

Maybe he really was dead.

Regardless, none of this coincided with Randy's memories of the day.

The young ninja continued to march on, having no other idea of what else he should do.

Admittedly, some parts of Randy's memories were choppy, but there was just enough to paint a clear enough picture in his mind.

He remembered Nomi and himself charging headfirst into a sea of monster students and freeing them from the Sorceress's influence, before they had found themselves being confronted by the Sorceress and Mac Antfee. He could still feel the deathly grip of Mac's hand on his throat; the man had come dangerously close to ending Randy's life, and then just like that, he had been torn away from Randy. A nightmarish form of his teacher had seemingly come from thin air, and like some scaly, runaway freight train, bulldozed Mac away. It had not only saved him from dying right then and there, but it had also lead to the brutal end of Nomi's former student.

At that point, Randy was on the verge of passing out, but had forced all of his strength in keeping himself awake long enough to calm Nomi back down to his human form. The redheaded teacher had immediately scooped Randy up, clutching the teen close to his chest as he fell into hysterics, being reduced to a sobbing mess.

Nomi had felt so warm and safe, despite the fact that he had just murdered someone, and Randy could taste the words of a confession on the tip of his tongue.  Yet now, it was tasteless and lost in his mind. He could, however, feel a sense of regret, as if he had failed to let slip what he had wanted to say to Nomi.

Darkness had overcome him, but at some point he had become conscious again for a brief few seconds. Randy had found himself laying on a gurney inside a speeding ambulance, and Howard had been there, right beside him, screaming frantically into Randy's ears. However, the amethyst haired teen had been too dazed and confused to fully comprehend a single thing that Howard had said. Then he blacked out again.

Finally, the last time he had awoken, had been when he found himself in the midst of the ancient Japanese village, basking underneath the light of the starry sky and cradled by moonlight.

Once again the question entered his mind, "Where am I?” 

There was no answer to his question, or at least not yet, he thought, correcting himself. Seeing as he wouldn't find answers on his own, he decided to focus on walking forward. As he studied his surroundings for any clues of his whereabouts, Randy silently hoped that he would be able to find someone with answers.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem possible, as he noted the lack of light coming from any of the buildings. It was safe to assume that the village occupants were sound asleep. Well, apparently except for one.

In the far off distance, Randy's blue eyes spotted a small, humble home atop a lone, grassy field. The little home seemed less luxurious compared to the other buildings and was surrounded by Japanese maples, a trail of lanterns led up to the front steps of the home. It was almost like something out of a videogame to Randy, and it was silently calling to him, begging him to come closer.

Randy could hardly register his feet moving towards the little home, until he was standing at its wooden door. Hesitantly, he raised a fist and, went to knock, but instead of his fist coming to contact with the door, his whole arm phased through it. His eyes began to widen. 

The first thing that came to his mind was the dream Randy had had a few weeks back, back when he had first met Nomi.

“I’m dreaming?”

Randy could barely hide the shock and surprise from his voice; he wasn’t dead, afterall.

Tentatively, he stepped all the way through the door. A soft gasp escaped him, a strange sensation running through his body as he slipped through the door.

What he found inside was something he certainly had not expected to see.

A teen, perhaps around his age, sat at the very center of the room in a meditative position, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. The male bore light brown hair that was pulled into a high ponytail. A dirty,  torn shroud rested over his shoulders, and underneath the shroud, the teen wore a traditional Japanese outfit, which mainly consisted of red, white and black. However, what really shocked Randy was what sat right in front of the teen: the Nomicon.

Randy stared wordlessly as the brunette teen opened his eyes, revealing eyes the same color as his hair. 

He spoke in Japanese, yet Randy was able to understand his every word, as if he had spoken in English.

“Dear teacher, I may not know of your origins, nor do I fully understand your motives. I do, however, understand our common goal to rid this world of the Sorcerer. He killed my brothers, of whom helped defend our home to their dying breaths. I will do my part in doing the same, though I cannot do it alone. Will you teach me?”

The Nomicon seemed pleased with the boy’s answer, emitting a low buzzing hum.

The teen smiled and suddenly stood up, stretching his limbs, before picking up Nomi. The brunette left the room in silence.

At that, Randy snapped out of the awestruck stupor he had been in, and hastily followed after the two.

The whole world seemed to shift, and Randy had not noticed it, until he stepped into the room the teen had left to. There was only a single light source in the room, which came from a small lantern that sat idly on a wooden desk. Its owner, an old man, was quietly sitting beside said desk, with the Nomicon laying in front of him. He held a sad, tired expression as he spoke in a soft whisper.

"My time as the Ninja of the Norisu Village has long since been over, and peace has been since then achieved. I have completed my mission, old friend, and I believe it is soon time for you to choose another who must carry on the duty to protect our home. I am weak, ill; my time is quickly coming nearer.”

The Nomicon didn’t respond at first, but then red smoke seeped through his pages, and Nomi Conikos Norisu suddenly appeared. He sat on the edge of the desk, eyes red and puffy with large tears. 

Randy was shocked to see his teacher so torn apart, and he had to refrain from going over to Nomi’s side to try to comfort him. The action would be in vain, of course. He was nothing more than a ghost here.

Nomi spoke, his voice shaky.

”I-I know, but I cannot abandon a friend. You have dedicated your whole life to carry on the duty, a burden, that I could not. You sought no wives. You bore no children. You have given up the chance to live a long, prosperous life. The least that I may do is spare the time for you until you pass.”

The old man chuckled softly.

"I am simply astounded by your sentimentalism. The tough and stern teacher, showing emotions? Shock! Has hell itself frozen over?!”

Randy half expected Nomi to be somewhat offended by the old man’s words, but instead was met by a snorting laugh. 

“Or perhaps, my student has finally given me a reason to show emotion?”

The old man let out a resounding laugh, knowing full well that it was physically impossible to outwit and out sass his teacher.

Randy sensed this, and he found himself grinning. The forlorn mood in the room seemed to lift, and he quietly watched as the old man and Nomi hugged each other tightly. The amethyst haired teen shuddered. An odd sensation danced up his spine, like an icy hand, a gasp leaving his lips. 

The room then seemed to warp, and he found himself standing outside, right before the little house. However, everything seemed different. 

The comfy little home had become somewhat run-down. It was daylight, but deep, dark clouds hid away the sun. The air was chilling to the bone, and the entire atmosphere felt listless and depressing. Randy was standing beside Nomi, whose face was full of grievance. In his hands, Nomi clutched an elegant sword, its blade covered by a dark red sheath. The magical being wordlessly unsheath the katana, displaying a dark blade. Kanji symbols were eloquently inscribed on both handle and blade, which seemed to bear the semblance of the words ‘Goodbye, my friend.’

Nomi paused, before he suddenly plunged the great weapon into the earth. He clutched the handle tightly, hands shaking. Softly, the red haired ninja murmured out the words,

"You were a grand ninja, though you were an even greater friend.”

Nomi sat on his haunches and stared up at the home with a deep fondness, tears were beginning to form in his eyes, when another figure came to join him. A cowboy-hatted man carefully rested a hand on his back.

"Ya know, it is time for us to go.”

His voice held a thick southern accent.

Nomi simply nodded. The two glanced at the house once more, before taking their leave. It was not until the little house was a tiny speck in the distance that Nomi suddenly crumbled to the ground, onto his hands and knees. Loud, body wracking sobs left his lips, and his voice was hoarse as he shouted and screamed, cursing the unfairness of his life, because why him? He didn’t want to keep living in this miserable loop of existence, when all he could feel was pain and endless suffering.

“WHY ME!? I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE! I CAN’T! I DON’T WANT TO BE IMMORTAL ANYMORE!”

Randy rushed immediately at Nomi’s side, and he wrapped his arms around the sobbing teen into a loose hug. Any tighter, and he would simply phase through Nomi.

Even if Nomi could not feel any of this, it still brought Randy some comfort for himself. He buried a part of his face into Nomi’s back, tears beginning to form in his blue eyes.

The cowboy-hatted man noticed Nomi’s state, and instantly made his way towards the sobbing teen. He calmly lowered himself to Nomi’s level, and began to utter words of comfort. 

“It’ll be okay…”

Randy peered over to the man, and furrowed his brows. The man’s words were slowly starting to slur, becoming more and more indecipherable. Suddenly, Nomi and the cowboy seemed far away, and the world was beginning to disappear and fade into a void of emptiness. 

Randy began to panic. He ran, and tried to return back to Nomi, but the more he tried, the more far away they seemed until the dark swallowed them and himself whole.

…..

Nomi was thankful that Gene had given him the t-shirt and basketball shorts; it was unbelievably hot. Up until now, the days had been cool and wet thanks to the previous rains, but now the summer’s simmering heat had come back with a vengeful bite. However, there seemed to be only one down side to Nomi’s current apparel. The clothes did absolutely nothing to protect his arms and legs from the small thorns of the bush he was currently sitting in.

A pair of footsteps caught Nomi’s attention, but then they just as quickly faded off. Poking his head out of the bushes, Nomi was relieved to find that it wasn’t a doctor, just a regular person finishing up a smoke. The scent of the cigarette lingered in the air for a moment, eventually snuffing out.

It had taken Nomi nearly half an hour to get to the hospital, the only delays being caused by himself. He was still unsure if he was truly prepared to see his student, unsure if the teen was even alive. If he was, Randy would more than likely be in a less than good state of being.

It was after having taken another detour, this time through a park, that Nomi finally made his way to the hospital. He made sure to avoid any entrances, and stayed just beyond the hospital camera's line of sight. He also made it a point to stray away from any hospital personnel, such as the nurse who had spotted him earlier, and took to the side of the hospital. Then, Nomi had made a beeline for a nearby bush, the one he was now hiding in.

Nomi looked around to make sure there weren’t any other passerbyers, and after a moment of preparation, began scaling the hospital wall. He soon reached a window that was just a few levels above the ground. It seemed that no one had bothered to lock it, and it was never opened at any times, making the window a bit finicky. It took some fidgeting before Nomi was able to pry it open, and he wasted no time diving inside. 

Nomi landed onto vinyl flooring in silence. Shooting a brief glance in the almost pitch black storage room, it seemed that no one else but Nomi was here. 

Good. That made this all the more easier.

On a metal shelving rack, there was an old janitor’s jacket, a pair of musty looking pants and boots, and a black flipback hat. Nomi graciously took the items and slipped them on. Unsurprisingly, most of the clothes were far too big and baggy. Even the hat seemed to be a size too big, covering a portion of Nomi’s face. But he didn’t mind.

He sipped out of the dark room. Nobody seemed to notice or question him. More than likely, everyone was too busy to take a good look and see a kid wearing some old janitor outfit. Thanking every and any deity in existence that the disguise had worked, Nomi wordlessly made his way to one of the many help centers.

“Excuse me, I seem to have gotten very lost on my way to see a friend. His name is Randy Cunningham, do you know where his room is?”

The receptionist looked up from the computer and was a little startled by Nomi’s somewhat sudden appearance.

 “Oh! Well of course! Just give me one second.”

Turning back to the computer beside him, he instantly began typing with incredible speed and accuracy. He turned back to Nomi with a slight smile.

"Randy Cunningham is two levels above us, room 503.” 

Nomi nodded, muttering a soft,"thank you,” and was about to leave, when the receptionist called out to him.

“Wait, are you an unaccompanied minor?”

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Nomi would have laughed at the question; he was no average minor.

“Yes, I am.”

The man hummed, then turned his back to Nomi and began digging around his desk.

"Dahlia on the first floor should’ve given you one, really any of the other receptionists,” he seemed to find what he was looking for and placed it atop the desk as he continued. "Oh well, I guess they must’ve had their hands full. The recent monster attack at school left quite a number of people injured, thankfully no fatalities as far as I heard.”

Nomi thanked the male as he took the item (a sticker that labeled Nomi a minor) off of the receptionist’s desk. His chest swelled with absolute relief that no one else had died, and that Randy was clearly alive.

With that, Nomi bid the receptionist good bye, and ran towards the nearest elevator in sight. He nearly broke the elevator’s button, and was even tempted to ditch the elevator. It was going far too slow for Nomi’s tastes. 

After a mere few seconds passed, he was most seriously considering his alternative plan, when there was a soft ding, signifying that the elevator had reached his floor. He stepped inside quickly.

The doors had barely opened and Nomi shouldered past, ignoring any eyes on him. Nomi simply didn’t care anymore. He hadn’t even noticed that he had zoomed past a disgruntled and exhausted Ms. Cunningham.

It wasn’t until Nomi spotted the room that he slowed down.

The anxiety and guilt from before almost instantaneously resurfaced, and Nomi seemed hesitant to venture further inside. 

Was it too late to turn around? 

“Yes, yes it is.”

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as he stepped inside the hospital room. As Nomi reopened his eyes, he wasn’t all too surprised by the somewhat ordinary setup of the room. The walls were a sterile white, the air in the room stale, and the soft steady beeping of a heart monitor. The only thing that seem to stand in complete contrast to the room was the teen lying in the hospital bed. Randy.

Nomi’s heart nearly jolted out of his chest as he took in the state of his student. Bandages were dotted all over Randy’s face, some were even wrapped around the amethyst haired teen’s throat. There were wires and tubings all connected to Randy. From an arterial line to an endotracheal tube which went through Randy’s nose, allowing the teen to breath. It seemed that Mac Antfee had done more damage to Randy’s throat than what had been expected.

Edging closer to Randy’s bedside, Nomi was thankful to find that Randy was asleep, just as he had hoped back when he was at Gene’s. Running a hand through Randy’s hair, a sad smile gently graced his lips. 

Without much thought, Nomi leaned down and pressed his lips against Randy’s forehead, and pulled away. As much as he wanted to savor this moment, Nomi was pressed for time. He already wasted a good deal of time working up the nerve to even come here in the first place. 

Now he needed to hunt down the Sorceress, before she did anything with the mask. 

Sighing, the redhead slipped away from his student, only pausing at the nearby window to look over at Randy once more. He hesitated, before finally forcing himself to leave.

What Nomi didn’t see was that his student’s eyes flickering open, wide and full of fear.

[armandbacon]

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[smartguyreviewed]

2x5 - Dumbstruck

Original air date:  October 8, 1997

Yay, an episode where TJ is actually acting like a kid! And also an excuse for me to rant about how much I despise group projects.

A very over it Lisa Simpson (played by Yeardley Smith) is handing back tests to her dumb ass students save for TJ and this annoying white kid named Clark that we’ll be introduced to briefly because Mackey ended up being the lead token white on this show, right next to Yvette’s cute friend Nina.

Clark asks how TJ did. He humble brags and Marcus snatches his test to gloat about his brother finally not doing well at something. Sike! TJ got a 110 on his assignment. Marcus is dumbfounded since he clearly doesn’t even put in the bare minimum. 

Lisa has to remind Marcus that demonstrating how you actually studied will get you more points. She gives her lazy, remedial students a chance to make up for their piteous attempts with a makeup assignment, an oral group report on WW2. Now everyone is mad at TJ because he fucked up the curve of the grading system, facilitating the need for a makeup assignment. Mackey is pissed.

Marcus and Mo of course decide to stick all the work on TJ while they go to Dawgburger. TJ, now wanting to fit in with his cool brother and bestie, agrees but is promptly thrown into a garbage can by Mackey and his 30 year old goon when they give him shit for being smart. Because the plot calls for it in this episode, TJ isn’t masterminding a plan to put fudged up charges on Mackey’s record or flunk him out of school forever. 

At the Henderson crib, TJ is attempting to do the assignment but the boys are watching The Three Stooges with non-copyright stock sound effects and can’t be bothered to lower the volume. Even Floyd stops scolding Marcus and Mo to join them. Apparently, TJ thinks being a genius and being entertained by slapstick are mutually exclusive.

Yvette is in the kitchen frowning at her fruitless yogurt when TJ comes in to whine about feeling left out. Yvette, as usual, is there to provide motherly advice and reassure TJ that he’s too brilliant to relate to simpleton humor. She even suggests that he’ll be the only non crooked black politician on the Supreme Court. Aww. TJ will revenge porn her in the future.

Just then, a truck pulls in with daddy Floyd’s wood--hehe--and the boys, including Mo, gather in the garage to bring in Floyd’s wood--last time, I promise--to wherever it needs to go.

Yvette comes in after the gang delegates how the work flow will commence and then commands the plot for the episode when she tells TJ his shoe is untied while Mo and Marcus are handing boards to each other. This ended well.

After passing out, Marcus, who is terrifyingly not alarmed, just calls for Floyd and then we end up at the hospital where it seems that TJ’s relatively light board smack has now rendered him dumb. Not only dumb but more childish than usual.

Marcus cares nothing about TJ’s prognosis, however, because he is a horny teenage boy and the doc is hot. Yvette has to literally drag him out of the room by his ear.

The doctor tells Floyd that this strange concussion could leave TJ acting like this for weeks. Of course Floyd is concerned since TJ is gifted. The next morning, TJ is so forgetful and delayed at breakfast that Floyd and Yvette have to play charades to help him navigate feeding himself.

Marcus comes in and asks if TJ is back to normal because he doesn’t want to do anything that makes him use his own damn brain for a change. After Flody sees this because Marcus did it right in the kitchen where he was about three feet away, he of course takes Marcus aside to tell him to quit badgering TJ to get well again.

At school, Mo thinks it’s a good idea to simply undo TJ’s problem by hitting him in the head again. Since we’re working off corny sitcom logic, he’s not exactly off base here. I mean, it did only take two light hits from a wooden board to turn TJ into an imbecile so why not do the same to get him back to normal, right?

During class, TJ is wowing everyone with his diminished IQ that was announced to everyone in the class for some reason. Eh, it’s Piedmont so I really shouldn’t be surprised that all of his business is out there.

Lisa is pissed because now that TJ is dumb and she hates Clark for some reason, teaching will be damn near impossible because nobody participates. I think I feel her pain because she asks a super easy question (what naval base did the Japanese attack) and nobody but annoying ass Clark answers. Poor thing. She probably came into this profession bright-eyed and bushy tailed, ready to change students’ lives and become the next Erin Gruwell but ended up becoming nothing more than a de facto babysitter.

TJ is taking advantage of being one of the guys by making fun of the more deadly effects of dropping bombs and says it led to radioactive monsters. The boys laugh but Lisa is aggy that nobody is taking this seriously. To spite her idiot students, she makes the reports worth half of their grade. Mackey blames Clark instead of the teacher who literally just assigned it. For some reason, this tickles Clark even though he’s going to end up in the garbage soon.

Since TJ is one of the guys again, he manages to tag along with the crew at Dawgburger, a place he wasn’t invited to earlier since he was going to do their group assignment all by himself. In hindsight, I hated group projects because I did all of the work anyways since my cohorts were dumb as rock boxes, so this wouldn’t have bothered me at all. Abolish group projects!

Post Dawgburger, TJ is in bed reading a comic and shooting the shit with Marcus. This is sweet. I like seeing siblings bond on TV shows because the regular narrative always seems to involve them all hating each other. Here, there’s no drama, just Marcus actually being responsible because he’s studying for the oral report and TJ, in what would be his natural state if he weren’t a genius. They even have a heart to heart when TJ asks if he’ll be okay and what would happen once he’s back to normal. Marcus says he’ll still stick up for him. Aww.

In geometry the next day, TJ’s intelligence just comes right back after he flawlessly recites the Pythagorean theorem when the dorky teacher asks. Once he realizes this, and after having probably the few easiest days in a while, TJ understandably commits to pretending to be a dolt. That is until pops sees TJ’s quantum physics magazine inside of a comic book!

Floyd traps TJ by making up a pretty damn good scenario in the Jughead comics but later confirms the lie by letting TJ know that wasn’t in the comic. He goes into how he likes being dumb with the guys because they like him more. Makes sense! TJ has nothing in common with them outside of attending their school but now he’s intellectually on their level. He knows this would change once he goes back to his regular self. Floyd should know this too but alas. I do love how he tells TJ he won’t rat on him. TJ returns the favor by telling his dad that he should write for the Jughead comics because that story he made up made him LOL super hard.

We cut to school where Mackey is just finishing up his group presentation about the X-Men invading Iwo Jima. Lisa Simpson isn’t impressed. Marcus and crew are up next and poor Marcus is struggling. I think it’s so funny that Marcus, a singer with a whole ass band, has stage fright upon trying to remember everything he studied for but just goes to show that music comes easier to him than school.

The internal monologues of everyone come up. Marcus is trying to remember what he studied. TJ contemplates bringing his brain back. Mo is...fucking beatboxing in his head. This shit had me dead when I first saw this episode. 

However, Lisa ain’t having it. She is two seconds away from using the dreaded red pen before TJ saves the day and begins talking about WW2. The boys are shocked but it helps trigger Marcus’s memory and then he’s able to spew out the facts. Mo doesn’t contribute but he will definitely take the credit! 

Later in the Henderson crib, Marcus is pissed because TJ almost let them fail. Although TJ is reminding Marcus that he put his effort into something and it paid off, Marcus is still annoyed leading TJ to think he doesn’t like him anymore.

Marcus explains that he enjoyed TJ’s company when he was dumb because he finally felt like what he is: his older brother. Kind of hard to feel that way when your younger brother is better at everything you do and a major know-it-all. He even admits that he can’t even pretend now that TJ is smart again because it won’t feel the same. I like when Marcus is doing more than chasing girls every episode because he shows maturity at times that is pleasing to watch.

He offers to instead be an older brother in other ways like threatening other people with violence if they make fun of TJ. Cute, but we all know Marcus is scary. Nice gesture though! Floyd comes in and tells the boys good night. At the end, we see Floyd took TJ up on his advice and is submitting an idea to the Jughead comics. Aww Floyd. I wish we’d gotten a subtle nod to if his idea was used because he seemed really happy with himself afterwards. Eh, whatever. Parents aren’t people so who cares.

Things I noticed:

- Clark being oddly satisfied that he knows Mackey and his fellow middle-aged adult friend are going to put him in the trash. Clark either has a crush on Mackey and didn’t like TJ for the attention he got from Mackey or he has some sort of a trash fetish. Or both. Maybe that’s why Lisa doesn’t fuck with him.

- “Okay students, now watch as I turn left to a right triangle.” I’m a dork and this actually made me laugh. Tough classroom, though.

[gamerwoo]

[EXO Imprinted] Sehun: Alpha Male

Anonymous asked: I request sehun imprinted the way you wanna do it :)

Characters: Sehun x female reader (featuring bts and ocs)

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fluff, angst, very slight crack, guns, injuries

Word count: 6,265

Summary: The only person Sehun will ever submit to is his alpha, and even then, he gives Junmyeon a hard time. So when his mate ends up being the alpha of another pack, he wants to prove that he can be independent by going up against the leader of the werewolf hunters that you and your pack are running away from.

a/n: things in bold are in English (and I know there are gonna be a lot of ocs mentioned but you don’t need to specifically remember them or anything. as long as u know they in reader’s pack, ur good). This part is kind of all over the place though, especially the second half. And it wasn’t proof read at all (like most things I write) so it’s an even bigger mess lmao.

Previous | Next | Imprinted Masterlist

You wouldn’t have done this if you weren’t desperate. As a female alpha, you didn’t want to ask help from others, because that’s exactly what the males would expect from a girl. Any other werewolves you’d happen to come across never treated you with respect despite the fact that a female alpha was all but completely unheard of. You were smaller -- even if in your human form you were around 5′9, your wolf form was definitely smaller than the rest of your pack’s -- not as strong, and well, you were a girl. So you felt like you had something to prove, and you wanted to do things either with the help of your pack, or with no help at all.

Your pack was nine strong, counting yourself. Olan, Minjoon, Airou, Ataru, Hanjin, Samuri, Jaejin, and Chansol respected you and protected you as their alpha. They never questioned you or your gender, even when you had first found them. Sure, they were surprised at first, but who wouldn’t be meeting a female alpha when everyone thought those were just tall tales passed down by other werewolves? Even Olan, who was older than you, respected you as if you were his elder.

However, with Olan being the oldest in the pack, he was also kind of the wisest, which was partly why he was your right-hand man. He was this big Thai dude -- hence, his name being Olan, which he explained meant ‘great or large’ in Thai -- that honestly had kind of found you when you came to Korean. He was already a werewolf, and you had yet to shift. Running into him seemed to set off some alpha instinct that was deep down inside you, and you shifted right in front of him.

But with him being the wisest meant that he was the one to tell you that he thought your current idea was the dumbest thing you could do.

“Do you really think a random pack of werewolves will want to help us?” he questioned in a harsh, low tone even though nobody else could understand him other than you. “We’re nobodies who don’t even live around here.”

“Would you rather take on a group of werewolf hunters then?” you snapped as you walked down the street to the address you were given by a helpful stranger. “Look, Olan, there’s power in numbers. Currently, we only have one more than these hunters, and that means we’re still easy prey. We need to outnumber them, and even if they say no, we have a better chance getting out alive talking to a pack of werewolves than we do going up against silver bullets.”

“I’d rather take my chances with a bullet than 9 werewolves...” he grumbled.

You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, making your entire pack halt as they watched the argument between you and Olan. They weren’t sure what it was even about -- the Japanese brothers picked up only a few words, but not nearly enough to figure out what you were mad about -- but just your tone had them shrinking back and backing down.

“My mind’s already made up, and we’re already almost there, so you can either shut up or go back home and hope you don’t get killed,” you growled, your eyes starting to spot red through your brown contacts. “End. Of. Discussion.”

Olan gave a small nod, having no choice but to obey his alpha, “Right. Sorry, _____...”

You heard Chansol whisper, “what was that about,” but you kept walking instead of addressing it. You were almost at the address anyway, so there was no point in talking about Olan’s objections.

After a few more minutes of walking in silence other than the members of your pack talking quietly to each other, you arrived at the address you were given. You looked up at the large house, frowning slightly. You figured anybody home would’ve sensed other werewolves nearby and would’ve been prepared for this. Then again, it was kind of late at night so maybe they were asleep or too close to it to realize.

You stepped up to the door and knocked. The rest of your pack gathered somewhat farther behind you, though Olan was right behind you in case anything happened as soon as the door opened.

The person that answered the door was a man -- as you expected -- with a round face, full heart-shaped lips, and short dark hair. You knew he just sensed the alpha all over you from the quirk in his brow, but he didn’t question it.

“Can I help you?” he wondered.

“Actually," you began, “that’s exactly what we’re hoping for.”

-

Sehun hated being the ‘pup’ as his pack loved to call him. He didn’t like the teasing -- the babying was alright, but he wouldn’t actually tell them that -- and he didn’t like that he had to take orders not only from his alphas, but from the rest of the pack because he was the youngest. 

Currently, he was upstairs in his room trying to get homework done so he could be away from the pack. They’d been teasing him all night because of some comment Baekhyun’s mate has said toward him. It got the rest of them riled up to start with the ragging.

There was a group of hunters that apparently were going around. The pack had heard word they’d shot a werewolf a few towns over, so they weren’t necessarily in any danger. But still, Junmyeon was taking precautions, especially since they had mates in the house.

“Sehun, get home before dark.”

“Sehun, don’t leave the house alone.”

What was he, a child? He was still a college student which meant he was an adult. They couldn’t boss him around like that.

Except they could. They were werewolves and his instincts told him to listen.

At the moment, his instincts were telling him somebody new was in the house. He could hear it and smell it. But he did smell something faintly sweet, like the best scent he’d ever smelled. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he also wasn’t inclined to go investigate. He was sure he’d just be met with Junmyeon telling him to finish his homework or something. So he put in his headphones instead and went back to work.

Only a few minutes later, his door was opened by Jongin. The second youngest looked kind of excited but Sehun couldn’t gather why.

“Junmyeon wants all of us downstairs,” he reported.

Sehun groaned but took his headphones out and got up from his desk. Of course, the one time he figures he should stay upstairs, he gets the opposite.

Coming down the stairs, the sweet smell was growing stronger. Still, Sehun wasn’t sure what it was. It wasn’t anything he’d smelled before, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t what Minseok and Baekhyun had told them about from when they first met their--

Sehun rounded the corner, eyes landing on a tall girl standing with her back to him. Everything froze as he just stared, unable to peel his eyes away.

But then you turned around, sensing that same strange presence behind you. Your golden eyes zeroed in on this tall wolf in black jeans and a blue button-up with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was staring at you like he was seeing the world for the first time, and you were sure you were giving him the same look.

You had imprinted on each other, and the whole room was full of werewolves who knew exactly what was happening, smirks on their faces. 

Sehun wasn’t sure what to do next. Did he say hello? Introduce himself? Say something smooth like compliment your appearance?

Instead, what came out of his mouth was a question.

“S-so...wha-what do you want?”

‘So smooth, Sehun. So very smooth.’

You let out a laugh that seemed to break the tension in the room, shaking your head.

“They’re here for our help, lover boy,” Minseok told him with a teasing tone. “Sit down.”

Sehun frowned at being told what to do again, but he took a seat on the couch by Chanyeol, looking across the room where the pack you belonged to continued to stand before his pack. You and who he assumed was your alpha -- some tall guy who definitely looked like he could take on like, three werewolves at once in his human form -- stood in front of the rest of your pack.

“Should we have the girls down here for this?” Yixing wondered, recalling how Junmyeon had Minseok bring them upstairs when he sensed that strange wolves had shown up at their doorstep.

The alpha just shook his head, “The less they have to worry about, the better. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.”

Kyungsoo looked back at the new pack, “Now that everybody’s here, you should explain what happened again.”

To Sehun’s surprise, instead of the alpha speaking, you did.

“The werewolf hunters have been after us since we’re a smaller pack. They already cornered Ataru, and he was lucky only two of them were there. He barely escaped before he was seriously injured. We know they’ve been following us and keeping tabs, so we made sure the coast was clear before we came here.”

That explained why it was so late at night, Sehun figured.

“But we don’t have any way to defend ourselves,” you continued. “We have nine, and while they have eight, those numbers are still too close for comfort. We’re still pretty easy targets and they know that. They’re going to come after us until they finally get us and kill all of us. We need help to scare them away at least.”

“We don’t expect you to kill any of them for us or anything,” the man clarified.

“So you’re leading them to us?” Baekhyun asked.

“No,” you quickly told him, “we made sure they weren’t watching us when we left.”

“We did surveillance!” the two boys that looked virtually identical grinned at the same time.

Most of Junmyeon’s pack eyed them, giving them odd looks before looking back to you and Olan.

“If we do help,” Junmyeon began, making sure to put plenty of emphasis on the first word, “we’ll need time to come up with a plan.”

“Well, we have limited time,” Olan spoke up beside you. “We don’t know when they’ll come after us again. We just recently got a new member of our pack, and we know they’ll more than likely target him since he’s still young.”

You already knew Chansol was frowning somewhere behind you. He hated feeling like he was being babied or spoken of like he was a baby.

“Why don’t we just go confront them?” Sehun suggested, shrugging like the idea of going up against eight werewolf hunters was nothing. “Together, there’s way more of us than them.”

His pack exploded with comments of how crazy that idea was and how they would just get injured or worse. They needed a plan, and Sehun must’ve been dumb to think they could just go without a plan of attack. But Junmyeon hushed them before speaking up himself.

“We can’t just go in there and start a war we’re unprepared for,” the alpha explained. “Even if we only have a limited amount of time, we need to think of a plan. For now..._____, why don’t you and your pack stay here? It isn’t safe for all of you to go home this late at night, and we can start planning first thing in the morning.”

“Hyung, can we fit everybody...?” Jongdae wondered.

“If we put multiple people in a room, then yes,” Junmyeon answered in a tone that said his decision was final. “Plus, we have the living room.”

“I already know who Sehunnie’s rooming with,” Baekhyun giggled.

Your eyes met Sehun’s again, only to see his cheeks were a soft shade of pink. You smiled to yourself, deciding your mate was absolutely adorable.

-

“So...what’s your name?” Sehun asked when it was just the two of you in his bedroom.

While he seemed nervous, you weren’t that nervous about it. He could also tell you weren’t nervous as you walked around his room, slowly taking everything in and gathering as much information about your mate as you could. He just watched you from his desk chair.

“_____; _____ _____,” you told him, your golden eyes not leaving the few framed pictures he had on a shelf bolted to his wall. “What about you? Tell me about yourself?”

“Aren’t you gathering data on me right now? You look like your scanning my walls like a computer,” he chuckled.

You smirked, turning to face him, “That’s what I look like?”

“A little,” he shrugged. “Well, my name’s Oh Sehun, I’m 25, and I’m the youngest in my pack.”

“Aw,” you cooed, “you’re the puppy!”

He automatically began to sulk, “Don’t you start, too.”

You laughed at your mate, going to sit on his bed, “If it helps, about half my pack is younger than you.”

Sehun smirked, “Does that include you?”

Finally, he wouldn’t have to be bossed around by somebody. Not that he would use the opportunity to boss you around, but he definitely was happy you couldn’t do it to him.

But your words had the smirk falling right off his face.

“But I’m the alpha of my pack.”

Alpha? A female alpha? Those existed? Not that there was a problem with it, he was just...well, surprised. He didn’t realize that the aura of authority he was catching onto was coming from you and not the large werewolf beside you.

He let out a groan, letting his head fall back, realizing this meant you could, in fact, boss him around as much as you wanted. And the kicker was that he would have to listen. You were a higher rank than him. Much higher.

From a few of the rooms down the hall, you could hear loud laughter. Even downstairs, some members of his pack were snorting in amusement.

Baekhyun’s voice was loud and clear as he giggled, “Sehun’s still the baby!”

-

Meeting your mate wasn’t like starting a new relationship. You mostly skipped all the awkwardness and all the shyness of a new relationship. Both of you were werewolves, so you already felt that love and comfortableness around each other. So sleeping in Sehun’s bed with him was like sleeping beside somebody you’d been dating for a year already. It felt normal and comfortable and just nice.

But living with Sehun’s pack was another story. 

They were louder than your pack, and that was coming from an alpha who had to deal with identical twins. You weren’t sure if Baekhyun, Chanyeol, or the loud-mouthed girl that you could hear in the kitchen were the loudest, but the three of them made it impossible to sleep any longer. 

“Do they ever shut up?” you groaned, trying to push your face farther into the pillows.

You knew Sehun was awake too because he whined and rolled over, covering his face with the blanket.

“No,” he sighed.

But then the twins joined in, and it was like a chaotic Hell had opened just for you.

“Do they ever shut up?” your mate countered.

So the two of you finally got up and emerged from his room, both of you still in the clothes you slept in -- he was just in sweatpants while you only wore one of his t-shirts and figured anybody who stared at you could just get a kick in the teeth. You led the way downstairs with Sehun following begrudgingly behind you because he was still tired. The noise got louder as you approached the kitchen, and you saw the twins joking around loudly with a few of Sehun’s pack mates while they made breakfast. Olan was sitting at the table with Junmyeon and Kyungsoo, Samuri was befriending Yixing, and the others must’ve been off somewhere else. You doubted they were sleeping, but if they were, they were lucky.

“_____!” Airou grinned when he noticed you enter. “Do you want souffle pancakes?”

“You only make souffle pancakes when you want to show off,” you grumbled, rubbing sleep out of your eyes.

“Yeah, exactly!” Ataru giggled.

Minseok seemed to be helping them, and Kyungsoo was observing from the table. You could see that Chanyeol was trying to help, but his souffle pancake had completely fallen apart, along with his smile. Baekhyun just stuck to making fun of the taller wolf for messing up.

“So,” Baekhyun smirked as he looked at yours and Sehun’s appearances, “what did you two get up to last night.”

“Sleeping,” Sehun stated before taking a seat at the table with Olan, Junmyeon, and Kyungsoo.

“You would’ve heard if they did anything else,” Minseok scoffed.

“I’m so glad I’m not a werewolf,” the girl beside Baekhyun mumbled. She didn’t seem to be in the best mood, but you weren’t sure why. 

You took a seat across from Sehun and beside Olan. 

“I hope you slept okay,” Junmyeon smiled softly.

“Until the twins woke me up,” you sighed. “I’m sorry that they’re so loud. They’re...excitable.”

“I think they word you’re looking for is annoying, _____,” Olan corrected with a chuckle. 

“We might be louder,” Kyungsoo deadpanned, looking at you with a serious face as he focused more on the conversation than the cooking.

“We deal with chaos all the time,” Junmyeon reassured you. “Ataru and Airou are nothing, there’s no need to apologize.”

“Since _____’s awake, should we start planning then?” Olan asked.

“I still say we just go after them,” Sehun shrugged. “There’s a lot more of us than there are them.”

“No,” you and Junmyeon both said at the same time, making your mate frown.

“After thinking it over last night,” Junmyeon began, “I realized they might just lose track of you if you’re not where they expect you to be. The odds that they simply move on instead of tracking you are about 50/50, so maybe it’s best to relocate nearby. Not only would you be closer to another pack which would intimidate the hunters, but you’d be closer to Sehun.”

“There’s still the 50% chance that they track them down anyway,” Sehun pointed out.

“But then they’ll realize there’s another pack nearby,” Kyungsoo spoke up. “It would be dangerous and stupid for them to pursue the pack anyway.”

“But--”

“We shouldn’t go after them, Sehun,” you stated, finality in your tone that not only made him shut up, but made him grumpy. “It’s better if we stay away and stay safe.”

But he knew that safety would only last for so long.

-

It wasn’t that he was going against you because you were a girl. Sehun didn’t care what gender you were. He went against you for two reasons: he wanted to keep you safe as his mate, and he didn’t like that you were younger than him and still had more power than him. It made him want to prove that he could hold his own and make decisions.

Of course, his own decisions he made were bad, and you soon felt that he was in danger. It was in your instincts to know when your mate was in trouble. You sat up straight, yellow eyes going wide before they turned red.

“What?” Hanjae asked seeing how you were suddenly on high alert.

“Sehun,” you replied, pushing yourself off the couch and running for the door.

“What about Sehun?” Jongdae inquired as both packs followed after you.

You ignored him, calling for your pack to follow you, but Yixing put a hand on your shoulder to stop you from leaving.

“He’s in our pack, so we should go find him with you,” he decided since Junmyeon and Minseok weren’t home.

“But I’m more comfortable going with my pack,” you insisted, shrugging out from under his hand.

“But he’s our brother,” Jongdae countered.

“There’s more of us,” Olan pointed out.

“We don’t have time to argue over this!” you groaned before you just bolted out the door, not caring if anybody went with you. You had to save Sehun before it was too late.

“We’ll both go, then,” Baekhyun shrugged with an almost teasing grin before he slid past Yixing and out the door after you.

And then the rest of them followed.

-

It took all of three days after both alphas warned Sehun to not go looking for the hunters for him to go looking for the hunters. He had to be sneaky when he tried to track down their headquarters, but he knew he couldn’t waltz in their on his own, so he had to wait to catch one of them alone. That was the tricky part.

Or so he thought.

He had gone out a day prior with his friend, Johnny, and explained his situation. He had finally imprinted, but it was on the alpha of another pack, and you were being tracked by werewolf hunters.

“Hunters?” Johnny asked. “How many of them?”

“Apparently seven boys and a girl.”

“Okay, this is going to sound really weird, but Taeyong’s mate is the girl.”

Sehun didn’t understand how Johnny’s alpha imprinted on a werewolf hunter, but he wasn’t going to question it. He had other things to worry about.

“Can he tell me where she is?”

And that was how he ended up brought down to his knees by the werewolf hunter in front of him. He didn’t plan on attacking her if she was Taeyong’s mate, but she clearly didn’t want to just talk or anything if the gun pointed to his head was any indication. But the way he saw it, at least it was him not you, and he wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment that he actually couldn’t do this on his own and try to protect you instead of the other way around.

In hindsight, it was kind of stupid. Sehun didn’t care if he was babied by his pack, but he didn’t want to be babied by his own mate, too. You were younger than him, and he wanted to be able to prove that he could be stronger than you, but he wasn’t. All he did was prove that you were right, and that he deserved to be babied. 

All he could do was stare up at the girl he learned was named Kimi as the binds on his wrists behind him burned into his skin. His teeth were clenched, but he refused to cry out from the searing pain the silver caused him. If he was going to go out, he was going to be as brave as he could be -- and he refused to give the hunter the satisfaction of knowing she was causing him pain and scaring the shit out of him.

“I have to say, you might be the dumbest werewolf I’ve run into,” she chuckled. “Coming to find me, saying you ‘just wanna talk’. God, it really doesn’t get easier or dumber than that.”

Sehun stayed silent, biting his tongue to keep from making noise because of the pain in his wrists. He just stared up at the hunter, the gun held to his head in his peripherals.

He saw more people appear out of the forest. One of them was tall and had a kind-looking face, but the aura he exuded was anything but. When he smiled, dimples showed prominently, only enhancing the innocence his appearance held.

“Nice job, Kimi,” he commented.

She shrugged, not looking away from Sehun, “It was nothing -- really.”

Sehun had no idea she had called for backup from her group. The seven men had all walked out and joined her, standing a few feet behind her.

Now he really hoped you didn’t show up in time to save him. You’d surely end up in the same position he was in. 

“Maybe if we wait, his pack will show up and we’ll have even more of them,” one of the men commented with a slight smirk.

“There’s no way he has a pack if he showed up on his own,” Kimi commented, his expression bored as she looked down at Sehun, studying him like he wanted to remember him even after he was dead.

One of the men looked off slightly to his right, “I wouldn’t speak so soon. More of them are close by.”

A blonde one sighed before pulling out a gun and cocking it, “Yeah, we can handle it.”

‘Please don’t come, please don’t come, please don’t come,’ was all Sehun could think as he eyed the gun in the short blonde’s hand.

But it wasn’t long until he caught your scent and knew you were nearby, and he closed his eyes. There wasn’t anything he could do to prevent what he knew would happen. He couldn’t even save himself, let alone anybody else.

In front of him, the seven men reached for their weapons and aimed them toward where the two packs were coming from. They saw a werewolf that was a little smaller than most wolves they’d seen.

“Is that a female?” one of them asked quietly.

Sehun cursed internally.

You weren’t the only one who had shifted. Baekhyun, Jongdae, the twins, Samuri, and Chansol had shifted as well. None of you knew if there would be a fight, and it might be better to have a few large wolves on your side. But seeing the reaction from some of the hunters, you knew that just seeing the amount of you there -- even if all of Junmyeon’s pack weren’t there yet -- was making them doubt themselves.

Your group approached them slowly. You knew that they could shoot at any time, but then were standing still as they watched your every move, knowing any of you could run at them or pounce on them at any moment, too. It was like a weird stand-off as you slowly approached Sehun from behind him.

“We can’t take them all...” one of them mumbled.

“Yes we can,” another replied as he pulled out a second gun.

Your red eyes narrowed as you stared down the girl that was holding a gun to your mate’s head. You let out a low growl involuntarily, and all guns were suddenly pointed at you.

While Olan didn’t have any power over you whatsoever, he held an arm out in front of you, trying to tell you not to do anything just yet.

Yixing stepped forward, acting as the stand-in alpha for Junmyeon’s pack, “It seems that you have one of ours. We clearly outnumber you, so if you just give him back, we’ll leave without any trouble.”

“What if we want trouble?” the girl smirked, looking away from Sehun.

“Then you’ll walk away with less people than you have now,” Olan spoke up, “considering any of you walk away.”

“Eight against thirteen doesn’t seem too balanced, does it?” Minjoon pointed out. “And considering we have six wolves, they may as well count as two or three people each. So eight against about twenty-seven -- give or take.”

You weren’t sure when you started having a stare-off with the girl holding her gun to your mate’s head. She seemed to be challenging you, her own eyes narrowed as she stood unwavering. You growled at her again, lowering your head and baring your teeth. But her response was to smirk.

“Don’t tell me your mate came to save you, wolf,” she scoffed as she nudged Sehun’s forehead with the end of the barrel of her gun. “Don’t tell me your bitch had to come rescue you.”

An involuntary growl bubble in Sehun’s chest, which was the only sound he had made since getting captured. She seemed to love that she finally got a reaction from him.

“So let’s say I happened to kill him,” she said, looking at you now as her gun clicked, signaling it was ready to fire, “what would you do? because I’d love to see what happens.”

You were ready to jump on her. You were so ready to rip out her throat and rip her into pieces. But you also knew in the back of your mind that as soon as you went at her, she would shoot Sehun in that instant.

She would shoot Sehun either way. You couldn’t win.

“Do you always have to make trouble for yourself, Kimberly?” a new female voice spoke up.

The girl looked very similar to the one standing in front of Sehun, so you had no doubt they were related. But this girl seemed more relaxed, and she had a slight smile on her face that was not nearly as menacing as the smirk the other girl wore.

The men seemed to look at this new girl with disdain. One of them stood up straighter and glared at her.

“What are you doing back, Kat?” he demanded.

“I go by Kacey now,” she replied coolly as she walked right up to where Sehun was knelt down. “I wanted to get rid of everything that was associated with you murderers.”

The man just rolled his eyes.

“We don’t want anything to do with a traitor, either,” Kimi sneered.

“Is that any way to speak to your older sister?” the girl apparently called Kacey asked as she booped her sister’s nose. Kimi scrunched up her face and took a step back which made Kacey chuckle. “You haven’t changed a bit. Explains why you’re trying to take on two packs of werewolves when there’s only eight of you.”

“Two?” one of the men repeated.

Kacey sighed, gesturing behind her to you and the group, “Anybody could tell that the girl is the alpha of most of them. You’re really falling apart without me, huh?

“Anyway,” she moved on from the subject as she crouched down and began to undo the binds on Sehun’s wrists. But you still could faintly sense werewolf hunter on her, so you watched her carefully, even when she stood with the silver binds in one hand and helped Sehun to his feet with the other, moving in front of him despite being shorter than him, “I suggest you all take their offer. If you intentionally anger his mate, I assume she’ll kill at least three of you within five minutes -- at most: all of you.”

“Don’t release my captives,” Kimi growled, stepping closer to her sister -- and closer to Sehun.

You took a step forward, causing pairs of eyes to flash over to you. Both Olan and Yixing stood in front of you just to at least attempt to keep you back and from making this a fight when it didn’t have to be.

“Then don’t pick fights you know you can’t win,” Kacey countered with a smile. “I’ll see you around, kid.”

She turned around, turning Sehun around and keeping a hand on his back as she led him away. But with her back turned, Kimi raised her gun again and aimed, prepared to fire. You let out a roar, tensing to jump in front of her line of sight, but somebody was much faster than you.

Kacey took out her own gun and turned around, shooting straight at Kimi’s gun and shooting it out of her hand like it was nothing. You weren’t sure how she could even aim that fast or that precisely. You’d never met any kind of hunter like her, but you weren’t even sure if she was a hunter because she was helping you.

“Don’t test me,” Kacey stated, her voice cold like ice. “Go home, Kimi.”

Then she carried on, leading Sehun back to your pack, and nodding with her head to leave the way you’d come. And she even escorted you back.

As Sehun got closer, he refused to look up and meet eyes with you. In fact, everybody was completely silent as you walked back the way you’d come, going through the forest until you’d reached the cars that were parked on the side of the road.

You and the other wolves hung back to shift in the woods so nobody would see while the rest of them continued to the cars. Olan and Yixing both expressed their gratitude to Kacey for helping them, and Yixing even went on to invite her back to meet Junmyeon because he knew their alpha would want to thank her properly, too.

Sehun walked over to one of the cars with Kyungsoo.

“Hyung’s going to be so mad at me...” he sighed.

Kyungsoo chuckled as he opened one of the doors on the other side, “I don’t think it’s Junmyeon that you have to worry about.”

Sehun didn’t even have to turn around to know you were looking at him. In fact, your eyes were burning a hole in his back. And that alone was far more terrifying than anything his alpha would do to him. 

-

While Sehun was in trouble, you were terrified. Actually, terrified didn’t even cover the panic and worry you felt that something awful would happen to him. But now that you knew he was safe, you were angry. You were angry that he went behind your back and did what you specifically told him not to do and that he recklessly got himself into a life or death situation. You wanted to hug him and kiss him, and whack him in the back of the head at the same time.

You were incredibly grateful to Kacey for saving Sehun and managing to avoid a fight, but you were more focused on lecturing Sehun as soon as you got into the house than thanking her. You could do that when you were less heated.

“Sehun!” you barked when he tried to go to the living room with everybody else instead of following you up to his room. He dropped his head and went to you, knowing he was really in for it. When he closed the door, you immediately went off on him. “What the fuck were you thinking?! Both Junmyeon and I told you not to go after them, but you did anyway! You went against me and you went against your own alpha! You almost died, Sehun! What the fuck were we supposed to do if you died, huh?!”

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, finally looking up and meeting your eyes. He was surprised to see that despite how angry you sounded, your red eyes were filled with tears, a few escaping down your cheeks. “Oh no, _____, please don’t start crying.”

“What else am I supposed to do? You almost died! I thought you were going to die!”

He frowned, going over to you and cupping your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his thumbs, “_____, I really am sorry. I did it for a stupid reason, and I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. I learned my lesson. I’m not able to protect you, let alone myself.”

Your expression changed slightly from pure anger to confused, “Protect me?”

He sighed, looking away but still holding your face, mumbling, “It’s really stupid...”

You stayed silent, looking at him unexpectedly. Knowing you wanted an answer and he wouldn’t get out of answering, he sighed and pulled you to his chest so you at least couldn’t look at him when he answered. But you were fine with it because at least you knew he was safe when you had your arms wrapped around his waist.

“You’re younger than me, but you’re so much stronger than I am as an alpha. I wanted to prove that I could be stronger. I wanted to protect you so you would look up at me instead of looking down at me because I’m just the pup of my pack.”

You pushed away from him just enough to look up at him, “Sehun, I don’t look down at you. I don’t look down at anybody.”

He looked at you, still frowning, “I don’t want you to see me as a baby like my pack does.”

“I don’t,” you insisted, reaching up to gently stroke is face. Sehun leaned into your warm touch, a soft rumble vibrating in his chest. “Just because I’m an alpha doesn’t mean I’ll see you as weaker or incapable. You’re not any less of a werewolf.”

Sehun’s eyebrows furrowed as he suddenly stood straight up again, “You’re babying me right now!”

You chuckled, “You’re acting like a baby.”

“Am not,” he huffed.

“Alright, then I won’t baby you,” you promised as you let go of him and stepped away. “Take care of your own wounds, big boy.”

As you walked past him toward the door, he turned and whined, “Waaaait.”

“Yes?” you smirked as you turned back around.

“You’re not going to help me?” he pouted.

Unable to resist his cute expression, you playfully rolled your eyes, “Come to the bathroom, you big baby.”

He followed behind you down the hall to the bathroom, grumbling, “I’ll prove I’m tougher than you one day. You’re still younger and shorter than me.”

“You keep thinking that,” you nodded. “Junmyeon’s also shorter than you, but I’m sure he’ll lay you out as soon as he comes home.”

And as if on cue, the front door slammed shut before you heard Junmyeon growl, “Sehun!”

You looked back at your mate over your shoulder, giggling, “Good luck, tough guy.”

[snakeboistan]

WHUMPTOBER DAY TEN: THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED

Blood Loss I Internal Bleeding I Trail Of Blood

Ao3

“I just can’t wait,” Nagisa said, eyes alight with childish eagerness and an excited smile radiating off of his face, “I mean I’ve heard rumours that Sonic Ninja was going to get a TV show but when the trailer was released this morning - it was just so good and I’ve watched it like fifty times already. I mean everything about it was so perfect and it teased so many things from the comics that the movies missed out on - like there was this one scene that showed a building that looked like the orphanage where one of the characters’ mother was raised which is so cool because the movies didn’t really go that much into the backstories of the older generation that much. Oh and there was like this one part where the camera pans over the headquarters and it looks all destroyed but there’s this emblem on the floor that is the same one that the third Sonic Ninja wore in the League Of Cats Saga - which was one of my favourite storylines. I’ve already got like a ton of theories.”

“Well, you sound excited,” Sugino teased with amusement, smiling at the way his best friend always got so lost in his adoration of his favourite franchise. It was hard to tell if the rosy hue on the shorter boy’s face was because he was embarrassed at his enthusiasm or because of the biting cold of the Japanese winter but it was adorable regardless.

“Heh, yeah I am,” Nagisa agreed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with an arm. He pierced another chocolate sauce covered mini pancake with his fork and plopped it into his mouth, closing his eyes in contentment at the warmth that covered his tongue, “I do get a bit carried away when it comes to superheroes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Sugino said as he threw the now empty box of pancakes into a trash can that they just passed, “It’s normal to get excited about the things that interest you. I mean, have you seen how I get about baseball. It’s not a normal week in my house if mum doesn’t offer taking me to a therapist at least once. Besides it’s nice to see you talk about the things you love, you rarely do in class. I bet you’re counting down the days until the premiere, huh?”

“Yeah, I am. Next Saturday is marked on my calendar. Well, next Sunday technically.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

“It’s a Netflix show and since I don’t have Netflix I’ll have to use my regular streaming site, which always uploads on the day after.”

“You could just use mine,” Sugino shrugs simply, casually placing his hands in his pockets, “you’re more than welcome to.”

“Wha-no Sugino,” Nagisa stopped dead in his tracks and Sugino was worried that the sudden movement would’ve made him slip on the snow-turned-sludge that caked the pavement, “I-you really don’t need to do that. I’m fine really. One day isn’t going to make that much of a difference.”

The black-haired boy gave an all-suffering sigh at the other’s words, knowing for a fact what was coming, “listen man, it’s no big deal. You’re practically family anyway. My parents and brother love you, you know that.”

“Doesn’t mean that I can freeload off of you,” Nagisa mumbled.

“You’re not freeloading if I’m offering,” Sugino gave him a light whack on the back of his head, “and if it really means that much to you then you could just come over and we can watch the first episode together.”

Nagisa looked at him and gave a small smile, “okay, but I’ll have to ask my mum first, though.”

“Great.”

“If she lets me, though, you have to let me pay for the snacks.”

“Wha-Nagisa.”

“Hey, you’re paying for the account, I’m paying for the food. It’s the very least I could do.”

“Hm, you’re not going to drop this, are you?”

“No,” Nagisa replied brightly.

“Alright then.”

The two of them continued to walk along the sidewalk, feet crunching against freshly fallen snow and hands interlocked between them.

“The snow’s really pretty,” Nagisa mused, looking up at the metallic silver clouds looming over them, “I’ve always loved walking home in the winter. Everything just looks so magical when it’s covered in snow, especially when people start decorating with the lights.”

“Yeah,” Sugino agreed softly, watching as the snowflakes twirled around in their own ballet dance, gracefully and elegantly descending like falling sakura blossoms, “I remember how I used to catch snowflakes with my tongue when I was younger. Last year, when the roads were closed because of too much snow, my dad took my brother and me out to the park and we had the best snowball fight ever and went sledding and mum made hot chocolate that was so amazing - totally made up for how I couldn’t play baseball for a week.”

“Sounds awesome,” Nagisa smiled, “snowball fights are enjoyable. Remember the one we had yesterday during break? I had a lot of fun.”

“Only because you were like the last one to get hit,” Sugino countered, “I still don’t know how you could hide when the snow showed your footprints. At least you were safe from that full-blown war.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Fuwa started charging at everyone with a sword. I don’t even know where she got a sword from.”

“But it was funny when I got Karma, right?”

“Yeah, it is really cool when you just appear out of nowhere like that. I mean it’s bad for the crazy people that try to hurt us but it’s cool when you use it for fun.”

“Heh, thanks,” Nagisa wore an expression of something Sugino couldn’t identify, “it’s weird though. All my life, I’ve been invisible. I’m used to people ignoring me and not paying attention to me. I never thought that me being invisible could be something useful in assassination. I guess I’m learning all sorts of things about myself this year.”

“I think we all are,” Sugino squeezed his hand, “and I can’t wait to learn more.”

“Me too,” Nagisa squeezed back, “I hope we make more memories with our class.”

Sugino opened his mouth to say something, probably to comment about how deep they were being on a Saturday afternoon fifteen minutes after they had been colouring the black and white picture on the back of WcDonalds’ kids menu, when it happened.

Nagisa’s eyes widened, mouth opening with a surprised gasp, and before he knew it, Sugino felt all the breath leave him as he got shoved to the side, leaving him to stare aimlessly at his best friend who was running towards, towards-

“WATCH OUT!” Nagisa cried, jumping forwards and pushing some elementary school kid away right before-

Sugino wished that the following events would be a blur later. He wished that he would never be able to recall with complete lucidity the way Nagisa’s azure eyes widened just the tiniest fraction when the car had struck him, the way the air was bombarded with the screeching of tires, the blaring of headlights, the blood-curdling snap of what sounded like bones. For a split-second it was like someone had pressed pause and time was stuck in a freeze-frame, just so that the image of Nagisa a second away from death could be forever ingrained into his mind, so that every detail can be observed with perfect clarity. Then it was like a movie that was played both in fast-forward and slow-motion; the events that followed happened so rapidly that Sugino could do nothing but watch but so slowly that he was able to memorise every change that occurred at every second.

Nagisa’s body collided with the hood of the vehicle and he was sent flying, sprawling onto the side of pavement with a heavy skid. His body laid there, still, stationery, unmoving. The movements of his chest - if there were any to begin with - were infinitesimal and it was impossible to tell if his eyes were open or closed because of the red-coated strands of blue that hid them from view.

Sugino ran. Fast. Faster than he does when he hits a home run, faster than he does during training, faster than he’s ever run before because that’s Nagisa, that’s his best friend who’s lying there still still still.

“NAGISA!” he screams, cries, begs, dropping to his knees. The sting of the tarmac grazing his knees has nothing on the corrosive cyanide that wells up in his eyes, blurring his vision but he can’t lose focus, can’t stop trying, “NAGISA GET UP! NAGISA COME ON!”

He shuffles closer to the - the body, ignoring the scarlet wetness that stains his jeans, of the pool of rich crimson that’s a sickening contrast to the pure white snow and light grey gravel beneath them (like it’s yelling ‘look at me, look at me and know the truth’), and takes a limp hand. He fumbles with the wrist, his hands sweaty and loose against the frail, malleable appendage. At last, he places a thumb against the right artery-

Seconds pass.

Minutes pass.

Hours pass.

Nothing.

“Nononononono,” he mutters frantically. He grabs at Nagisa, turning him over-

Nagisa looks at him, eyes open but unseeing, their cerulean gaze foggy and clouded up. Tear tracks of red running down half of his ashen white face, dripping and dripping onto the street, painting his jacket, mingling with the pastel blue strands and dots of snow. Like a marinette, the shorter boy’s actions were under the control of the hands that held him. Sugino shook him and shook him and shook him.

“NAGISA! WAKE UP! COME ON MAN! THIS ISN’T FUNNY! WAKE UP! GET UP! NAGISA PLEASE!”

The blunette remained unmoving, unblinking, un-anything-ing. His head resting on the baseball lover’s lap, as if he was just in a deep sleep.

“Nagisa…”

Sugino doesn’t think he’ll ever find snow fun anymore.

[loganscalesaurawrites]

9/1 Prompt for @tsshipmonth2020 ‘s Soulmate September stuff. I haven’t written a lot of Sanders Sides though [... Or fanfics in general that were more than oneshots/fallen projects. so expect roughness.

[I’ll be doing a mix of platonic soulmates and romantic soulmates as this goes on [If I write more], because I’m a big fan of the sides as a big poly web with Roman and Remus being the only two not actively dating because remro/m = no.]

This one’s the full web with remus and roman as platonic soulmates! Because start with your favorite thing.

[Remus is also probably a bit ooc, but I like the headcanon that he plays up his “Depravity” as a side, and in human!Au he’s just someone with a morbid fascination with death or biology that leaves most people unnerved/is prone to blurting out what he’s thinking without really caring about other people’s comfort until he’s told off.

Soulmate Marks had been appearing for centuries at this point with very limited knowledge on how or why exactly they did, a short list of names appearing in either a dark crimson for your lovers, or a glittering emerald for those who you bond with as friends or even a found family in most cases- both darkening with an outline the moment you came in contact with your soulmates. These started forming generally early on in life as your soulmates were born and names chosen, or you were born  with them if you were the youngest of your soulmates.- Though rarely were they ever more than a year or two apart, and with astonishing frequently, you started meeting your romantic soulmates a few days after your eighteenth birthday.

It was a rarity for someone to have more than one [maybe two] of both, but when they were born, the Alvarez twins had a stretch of four crimson names, and the moment their names were chosen emerald swirled on each other’s wrists.

But that was almost two decades ago, now it was eighteen years later, nearing the end of the school year a few days after the twins’ birthday and Roman, once again, was trying to figure out his soulmates.

Patton Kravitz: His last name had changed quite a lot early on, which his parents said probably meant he was bouncing around in adoption centers until he settled in a few years prior. The original name was long forgotten in his memory, but he was sure it was’t a masculine name to start- but that was fine with them both, whatever pronouns- [Roman had a hard time switching to they in his head, but was working on it![- their soulmate had they knew to respect.

Logan Sanders: A simple, regular name. [Remus even jolted up about three times in the past week hearing either of the two seperate, but had to be reminded their birthday hadn’t come up yet, it was unlikely.], unlike the 

Virgil:  No last name, at least not one in english, Roman no matter how hard he tried to learn japanese for the sake of this soulmate was just unable to figure out how to read the kanji [Though Remus could, and it infuriated him to no end when he never said how to read it].

Janus : No last name again, though he had disappeared for a week, before coming back in the same exact place [Remus was the most panicked about this, his more... grim worries flashing through his head before Roman calmed him down, talking about how Patton’s name flickered a few times while his name was in flux, so maybe Janus was similar to patton, just took longer.

  Roman quietly stared at the names on his wrist, again pencil tapping rapidly on his desk, a few rapid bounces of his leg came before the teacher called on him, jolting him out of his reviere and rushing to catch back up on which question they were on.

His brother behind him softly snorted, tapping a rapid series of things and Roman quickly flicked forward and read the line out with a narrowed from his teacher, but the bell rung right after and he quickly rushed to get his things and dart before he could get told off for daydreaming again.

Right behind him Remus playfully chided his brother with a low tsk. “C’mon, Ro, I thought we said you only get one longing lovestruck look at your names a day, that’s the third time I caught you thinking about them and how much you-”

Roman gently elbowed the other as he snickered, “Oh please, you’re the one who daydreams about the bedroom, I’m pure and chaste and romantic.”

“Say that to your picture of Aladdin-”

“He is a god among mortals and you will shut your face before I do-”

Remus’s cackle was heard through the hallway, the two seniors bickering on their way to the car as Roman slid into the passenger’s side, flapping his hands about in excitement as Remus let him jabber on, driving their way to a nearby coffee shop during their lunchbreak. He quickly passed by their usual one, Remus deciding to try different places nearby to hopefully get his brother to shut up about them for one second.

“What absurd thing’re you going to ask them to put on your cup this time?” Roman slid out staring Remus down, ticking his latest creations. “Last name sucker, first name Dick? Boo T Chaser?”

Remus shrugged, grinning wider than Roman had seen, “Just Remus!”

There was a second, Roman waiting for the beat to drop before he blinked, frowning. “... Remus?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re obsessed with our soulmates, might as well make it easier, besides seeing the two of us together and our last names on the cups should abso fucking lutely make these people notice. You think one of our soulmates’d be willing to bang me right after we meet or should I buy them dinner fi-”

Roman threw his hands up in the air, slamming them down to his sides with a snort that betrayed his annoyance. “Your pansexual ass needs to chill.”

“And your Ace ass is the only person I can talk to about this who won’t squirm in discomfort and would dropkick me. Thank god you’re not repulsed otherwise I have no idea how we’re soulmates if you can’t reign me in, princey.” Remus stuck his tongue out, ducking a grabbing hand at the childish nickname before walking in.

The shop itself wasn’t all too unique, a simple cafe with a chalkboard menu above the counter, currently being updated by a guy in a patchwork purple hoodie doodling all sorts of plants along the frame of the board. One of the baristas- dressed complete in suspenders and the hipster aesthetic from the looks of it [who else’d wear a necktie to a casual cafe]- pratling to a customer with a cardigan around his shoulders. Remus met the light chill of the AC with a happy sigh, quickly rushing to stand behind a guy with multicolored skin [Vitiligo- Roman remembered reading about it once] and he jolted when Remus had already moved to the register.

shit.

“Hi I want your darkest roast you’ve got, black, and sunshine here’s gonna need more cream and sugar than coffee. If it’s not whiter than a sheet of paper he won’t drink it.”

“Asshole.” Roman elbowed Remus, turning to the barista. “I’d like just a latte, if you don’t mind. And I’ll pay extra for it too, but if anyone working can do that fancy latte art stuff I’d appreciate it?”

“Very well.” The barista’s tone was an odd mix of clipped formality, and warm gentleness that immediately made Roman melt, and the Barista pulled out two cups real quick, grabbing papers. “Names? And please-” he glared at Remus. “This time, do not make me call out “Luke Kinfor Cawk”

Roman ignored the soft snort from the arist above them, hearing him grumble “Is that any way to treat a customer?”

He glanced up, glaring at the smirking artist- Remus gawking at his light makeup for a second and mumbling something about needing tips from the stylish asian indivudal- “I’ve been working here for a week, I’ll do better about it.”

“God I’m joking Lo, take a hint. Though you’re leagues above where you were when we met. Sorry about that.” The hoodie wearer hopped down, dusting his shirt and picking up a pen himself. “Welcome to the Roast, since he forgot to welcome you. I can do latte art, so any requests?”

“Yeah, can I kiss you-” Roman’s hand slapped over Remus’s mouth- surprised at the safe for work flirt and he stumbled out.

“My apologies, my brother here’s... Eccentric, I apologize if he’s ever gone too far.”

The barista shrugged- and Roman noticed neither of the employees had a nametag on. Odd. “The first time yes, but I just hold it against him since we’ve had a pretty decent rapport.”

“How you can stomach all that biology I don’t know. You two start prattling off those facts in the corner like it’s a science course.” The other two customers nearby snorted, trying to hide their eavesdropping as they themselves chatted, and the artist quickly pulled the labels off. “Names?”

“Roman and Remus Alvarez-”

All at once, four different things fell over. The pencil in the artist’s hand, the mug the barista was cleaning, the coffee that the cardigan clad guy was sipping from... and the 4th individual in his entirety, who somehow litterally fell over at the name spontaneously as though it shocked him.

The twins stared at one another for about half a second, seeing things processing on the other four, before Roman grinned, hands moving up and showing the lines of red names on his wrist.

“Virgil, Logan, Patton and Janus I presume?” Artist, Barista, Cardigan, and the one currently still on the floor in shock nodded in that order, and Remus cackled like mad.

“Ok now that it’s a LOT more kosher, Specs or Chalkboy, can I kiss you now” Remus helped Janus up from the floor, dusting his shirt off while pouting at the workers and Patton giggled.

“I get the feeling we’re gonna be skipping the rest of school today, Remus.” [Don’t do that kiddo!][Please do] “There’s a lot of stuff to talk about.”

[all-might-blog]

A Child and his Doll

All_Greenie

Summary:

Eliza Stevens is in Japan for the winter holidays when she stumbles upon an unlikely situation. A green-haired child, sitting alone in the rain with nothing more than the clothes on his back, a small bag and a super hero doll.

It was a rainy night, and it was cold and windy. The rain fell hard on my umbrella as I tried to make it to my hotel room in one piece. In fact, I yet had to get to the building itself, and I knew there was a long way to go despite everything. I was having a bad day.

My feet were cold and damp as I quickly walked down the sidewalk, boots splashing on puddles of rain water, the cold wind blowing at my rain coat's hood. It was already eleven forty six, and there were barely any people out due to the bad weather. Maybe a car or two here and there (zooming past and splashing water on her!), bit otherwise everyone was sheltered away from the bad night weather.

Right. Except me. I swore under my breath as I stepped on a reather large puddle of water, dampening my poor feet even more. The wind gave a sharp tug, nearly wrenching my umbrella from my hands.

"Shit!" I snapped, closing it. Better keep the umbrella in one piece than have to go through the trouble of getting a new one, and I was already a few streets away from the hotel. I pulled hard on my rain coat's hood, stomping along, teeth gritted, shivering with cold.

Then I saw him.

He was seated at the entrance of an emoty shop, sheltering underneath the small arch of the doorway. Yet he was still getting wet, head buried in his hands, trembling. My motherly side of me got the better of me and soon I was approaching him. I tapped his shoulder and he looked up at me. He couldn't be more than six, a small, thin child clinging to a super hero doll and a small, orange bag. He wasn't wearing anything to keep him worm but a thin jacket, and green hair stuck to his forehead.

He looked a mess and I got a feeling that he would be needing my help.

"What are you doing out here?!" I shouted over the thundering of rain.

"I'm lost!" he cried back. I pulled him to his feet and led him to a nearby alley, sheltering away from the rain. It was a bit quieter there, and easier to have a conversation.

"Why are you out so late? It's raining like crazy out there!" I said.

"I'm lost. I can't find my Daddy." the boy said, tears welling at his eyes. I bit my lip.

"Are you hungry?" he nodded. "My hotel is not far from here. I will get you there and see what I can do about this, okay? By the way, my name's Eliza. You?"

"Izuku."

"Are you still hungry?" I asked, popping both our plates into the dish washer.

"No, not really." Izuku replied. I looked back at him, his huge, expressive eyes staring into mine. I had brought him into my hotel room away from the rain, toweled down his driping hair and fed him with what little food I had in the fridge (which had been a rather large sandwich that I had divided in half for the two of us). He had practically wolfed down his food, and I wondered just how long he had been out in the rain. One fact was that he never parted ways with his beloved doll.

"And who is that little man?" I had asked when I had noticed this. He had held him up proudly, beaming.

"His name is A Might and he's the number one hero. Mommy made him for me." he said. To be honest, it was a cute doll, with a round face and black button eyes, as well as blonde hair with two bunny-ear-like tufts on his forehead. Izuku's mother was probably a talented seamtress, since she had done very well in adding in every single detail. He was dressed in a blue and red body suit, a red cloak stitched to his back.

After that, he had rambled on about All Might's superpower, his ability to save people with a smile, the fact that he was inspired by Izuku's father. I interrupted him there, asking him if he knew his name or his phone number.

"Mommy called him Toshi sometimes," he said.

"And phone number? Email?" I asked.

"Well, daddy told me that if I ever got lost, that I gave this to someone so that he could find me." He lifted the doll's cloak and easily fished out a small slip of paper from a hidden pocket, holding it out for me to take. I was surprised at this turn of events.

That doll would save Izuku, that's what I thought as I took it from him and found a phone number and an email written in it.

"Izuku, this is perfect. Thanks." I said, fishing out my phone from my pocket.

"What is it?" the boy asked.

"You father's phone number. It means that I can contact him and let him know where you are." I said, dialing the number. Izuku brightened up.

"Really?!" he said happily. I smiled as I put the phone to my ear. He picked up almost as soon as I had done so.

"Hello?" the man on the other end asked. I could hear desperation in his voice, and I knew it was Izuku's father.

"Hi. I know it's late, but I believe that I found your son? His name is Izuku." I added.

"Yes! Is he okay?!" the man cried, relief in his voice.

"Yes." I replied. "You can come pick him up now, if you don't mind the rain."

"I'll be on my way, then. Adress?" he asked. I could hear a door opening on the other end of the line. I gave him the name of the hotel and the street's name, as well as my own in case he had to ask about me. He thanked me deeply, and promised to be there in ten or so minutes.

"Daddy's coming?" Izuku asked me as I ended the call and left the phone on the table.

"Yes. Ten or so minutes, he said." I said. I held out the slip of paper. "You keep this safe, alright?" he nodded vigorously, putting it back into its pocket underneat the cape. "While we wait, how about you tell me a little more about All Might?"

He was pleased to do so. "Well, he's super brave and he's the Symbol of Peace. Mommy created him for one of the bedtime stories she used to tell me, and she made me this doll so I could always have him by my side. Usually, he's thin and tall because part of his power is to turn into a strong, muscly man. By the way, his power is called One for All, and his enemy is All for One, who is a bad, mean man with a potato head." he said that last bit clutching the doll in a hug.

I laughed as the image came into my head. "He musn't have been very dangerous then, right?"

"He was!" Izuku cried. "He was super evil and he nearly killed All Might! But All Might won, like always!" Izuku said thia happily, legs swinging.

"And your mother made all of this up?"

"Yes! She even put me, Daddy- he's All Might!- and hersef in it!"

"Wow, that sounds cool, eh?"

"It is! Do you want me to tell you part of the story? She didn't really get to finish it, though, but it's really cool!"

I agreed to it, and by the time a knock sounded at the door, he was animatedly telling me about the Hero school, U.A, he would have attended as a teen in the story.

"Just a moment, Zuku." I said, standing up. I opened the door to find a tall, thin man standing on the other side. He had a pair of noticeable blonde tufts of hair framing his face and unkempt short hair, dripping with rain water. He looked terribly worried.

"Are you Eliza?" he asked.

"Yes. Your son's inside. Do you want a drink or something?" I asked him. He was reluctant to step inside and 'drip water all over the place', but I told him there was no problem. As soon as Izuku saw him, the little kid ran and barreled into his legs, hugging him tightly. His father picked him up and returned the hug, dropping a kiss on his son's forehead.

"Thank god you are okay," he said with relief. He bowed to me, the Japanese way of thanks or apology. "Thank you so much for helping him out."

"Well, I couldn't just leave him outside now, could I? Take a seat, make yourself at home. I'll get you some tea." I replied. He sat at my small kitchen counter with Izuku on his lap. When I returned with the tea, the young boy was asleep, hugging All Might to him and nestling on his father's lap.

"I'm really sorry for the trouble," He said quietly.

"Ah, no worries. He's a nice kid. I haven't gotten your name yet?"

"Sorry. Yagi Toshinori, but you can just call me Toshinori." he anwsered. "Thank you so much for looking after Izuku. I couldn't believe that he had gone missing and I was terrified."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. Same thing happened to my little brother, but he turned up a few hours later." Eiza said. "Say, where's his mother? I would have expected her to come pick him up with you."

Instantly, the smile fell right off the father's face.

"Izuku didn't...?" he looked down at his sleeping son, then back up at her. "She... my wife died a few months ago. In an accident."

"Oh my... I'm really sorry..."

"So am I. At least she got to see him one last time before she passed. I don't think he understands yet, though. He's still too young to do so, and he misses her."

"Of course he does."

"I would have never forgiven myself if something happened to him because of me. I should have been more careful." he sighed, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead.

"Well, he's all right now." I said, trying to cheer him up a bit.

"Yes. For that I am incredibly grateful. I am a bad teacher, but an even worse father..."

"Oh, I don't think so. Izuku speaks very higly of you." I said. "He really loves you as his father, as well as All Might."

Toshinori laughed at that. "Oh, I know he does. I just wish I could be a better father to him to make up for his mother's absence. In fact, I just wish everything could go back to normal."

"Nothing wrong in wishing that," I said.

"I suppose not." he drained the last of his tea. "Well, I wouldn't like to bother you more, and this young boy of mine needs rest. It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Before you leave," I quickly said. "He told me a story before you came here. My friend, he's a manga artist. You wouldn't mind if I told him this story? As a way to keep it alive, you know? He takes a lot of inspiration from these kind of things."

"You are asking me if he can use the idea?" Toshinori asked.

"Sort of? I'm going to be here for the winter holidays, and I would love for him to meet the two of you. Does coffee sound good for you?"

"Well... I will have to think about it. I wouldn't mind, but at the same time, it was Inko's creation and not mine to give. I'll talk to Izuku about it and let you know by next week."

"Sure. I don't want him to steal the idea, I just think it would be nice if everyone could get to know this story, as to not just let it disappear, you know?"