#as weird as it is to imagine someone abusing chao since it can be done in game I can assume it's possible in world

[mecha--maniac]

I'm awful at finishing things so I'll post these now

AU; Metal (I think eventually renamed Nettle, she/her) joins Team Dark after Sonic Heroes and is 'rehabilitated' by doing crime that isn't murdering Sonic specifically. She operates as guy-in-the-chair/occasional field operative/co-manager of Rouge's casino/bouncer for Rouge's casino. She can still shapeshift; and goes between the 'working clothes' of Neo and the more compact form that takes less energy to maintain and doesn't have to bend/turn sideways to get through doors.

I think Rouge is hinting to her that she wants a 'guest' either escorted off the premises, or off the mortal coil. TD is definitely not Beyond A Spot Of Murder here, although to be fair it's usually kept to spies, fasc, and CEOs (so,, fasc) Obviously they don't work for GUN in this and they frequently come at odds with them. They're pretty well bankrolled for whatever operation they want to do between the casino, Metal's handiness with financial management (had to bankroll that massive fleet, after all,) profits from missions/hits, and Metal jailbreaking Eggman tech constantly for use or sale.

Still, they're decently nice folks for the most part. Rouge is kinda Team Mom, and has a real knack at soothing the savage (and autistic) beast/robot, mostly because nothing can phase her and her patience is saintly. She taught Omega her gardening hobby and they enjoy that time together. She encourages the 'hogs with their pet chao. She's aroace and a pallid bat to me :)

[robininthelabyrinth]

A Sick Thought - Part 3 - on ao3 or on tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Lan Wangji had long ago suspected that he had done some terribly wrong in a prior life, if only because something had to explain everything he’d suffered from the death of his mother to the destruction and rebuilding of his sect to the loss of Wei Wuxian and the terrible wrenching pain that accompanied it.

If before he suspected, now he was certain.

There was no other way to explain why else he would be tormented by the return of his beloved – as a feline.

He had difficulty even thinking about that, really, even though he’d gotten relatively used to dealing with the fact of it in real life. The thought just sounded so absurd in every possible way:

Wei Wuxian is back, but he’s a cat.

The Yiling Patriarch returned at last, meowing.

Purr, says Wei Ying.

(That last one tended to lead him to disturbing thoughts, and so he refrained.)

They were traveling together now, working together, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian together. It was everything he’d ever dreamt of, except for the part that his wildest fantasies on the subject somehow failed to cover the possibility that Wei Wuxian would be small, four-legged, and insist on riding on Lan Wangji’s shoulder except for when he felt the distinct need to zoom around wildly and would pelt up and down the road at top speed, chattering cheerfully as he did.

Similarly, when Lan Wangji had imagined sharing a meal with him, he had perhaps anticipated Wei Wuixan’s eyes going big and round and pleading, the way he inhaled the smell of spices, the way he would reach out to grab – but he hadn’t anticipated that he would need to bat away Wei Wuxian’s little paw before he consumed anything with onion, garlic, or other alliums, which were bad for cats, and would instead be feeding him little bits of raw chicken with no salt. Sometimes, even often, he would succumb to Wei Wuxian’s pleading and rub on a tiny little bit of chili powder – spice was also bad for cats, no matter how they lusted for it, and so it was bad for Wei Wuxian no matter his pleading. 

He had imagined sharing a pillow with him, hearing his breathing, and they did, he did - and yet, they were literally sharing the pillow, Wei Wuxian’s entire body curled up into a perfect orb of cat right next to his cheek and sometimes waking him up with foul cat-breath, and instead of needing to watch for nightmares he was more concerned about dreams involving chasing (Wei Wuxian had pounced on his forehead ribbon more times than he could count). He could sooth him with his hand, as he’d hoped, but there was a lot less sighing and a lot more purring - a rumble like distant thunder, more vibration than sound - than he’d thought.

Also, he’d imagined their duets to include somewhat more flute-playing and less…yowling.

Yes, it was all…very, very different.

No matter. It wasn’t important that it didn’t match his dreams; what was important was that Wei Wuxian, his Wei Ying, was back.

That was what mattered.

“I really wish we could’ve gotten more information from Mo Xuanyu,” Wei Wuxian said, padding along at Lan Wangji’s side. He’d permitted Lan Wangji to replace the cheap red ribbon Mo Xuanyu had found for him with something a little more elegant, and Lan Wangji hadn’t been able to resist using one of his spare forehead ribbons (dyed red, of course, to match Wei Wuxian’s tastes); the obvious end result of this pleasurable subterfuge was that Lan Wangji was now having some difficulty looking straight at Wei Wuxian without blushing. 

It seemed an appropriate example of suffering the consequences of his own actions. 

“I know he doesn’t know anything about the ghost hand – or the legs, I guess, now that we’ve gotten them, and wasn’t that weird with the Nie sect? Poor Nie Huaisang looked even more torn up about it all than I would’ve expected, all dark circles under his eyes and pale skin, you’d think he’d be better at running a sect if it’s been a decade already – anyway, I’m distracting myself from the main point. The main point is, I can’t help but feel like this whole thing is connected to Mo Xuanyu somehow.”

“Agreed,” Lan Wangji said.

Poor Mo Xuanyu.

Lan Wangji had not in nearly a decade and a half regretted his decision never to willingly set foot in Jinlin Tower, but now that he had seen what work they had made of Mo Xuanyu, he regretted nothing more. He who took such pride in being where the chaos was had missed the chaos and wretchedness right under his very nose – for Mo Xuanyu was very wretched indeed.

Lan Wangji had resented Mo Xuanyu at first, always laying his hands on Wei Wuxian without the slightest bit of shame – not that there needed to be shame, given that Wei Wuxian was, well, a cat, and of the subgenre of felines that Jiang Cheng for some unspecified reason continued to crudely refer to as “cuddle-sluts” – and for how Wei Wuxian worried about him and cared for him. 

It did not help that Mo Xuanyu was so well known for being a cutsleeve. 

And then, one day, Mo Xuanyu had gotten Lan Wangji alone and told him with great emphasis that he was deeply devoted to his successful courtship of Wei Wuxian, offering his help in any possible respect, and also wistfully added that he wouldn’t mind it very much if Lan Wangji were willing to offer some suggestions on how to court Jiang Cheng, who was utterly oblivious to any hints.

After that, Lan Wangji remembered himself what shame was, and guilt, and felt it thoroughly – it was no excuse to say that being around Wei Wuxian roused his worst protective and possessive instincts, for it was his duty to overcome them. Be strict with yourself, the rules said, and as always he had failed to remember the rules when he needed them most.

The extent of his pettiness was only magnified when he thought about it all more closely. Mo Xuanyu was not merely someone to be pitied, was more than simply a victim who had suffered under the outrages of the Jin sect – the harassment, the abuse, the deliberate poisoning and destruction of his mind in order to reduce his credibility...That was all bad enough, and it pained Lan Wangji to no end to hear it. 

But more than abuse, more than madness, more than exile to a misbegotten place that somehow managed to beat out Jinlin Tower for sheer viciousness –

It was due to Mo Xuanyu that Wei Wuxian had returned.

He had been willing to give his very life, his body and soul, to bring him back.

And for that, Lan Wangji owed him everything.

Even when it meant –

“We should return to the Cloud Recesses to fetch him,” Lan Wangji said, and Wei Wuxian craned his head around – his tiny, tiny head that could easily fit into Lan Wangji’s palm, covered in a short layer of fur more comfortable than the softest silk – to look at him in curiosity. “I understand that it is a detour.”

“It is,” Wei Wuxian said. “You wouldn’t propose it for no reason, either. What are you afraid of? He’s in the Cloud Recesses, and with Jiang Cheng – surely he’s as safe as safe can be.”

“It is nearly the end of the month,” Lan Wangji said. “My brother will be returning home soon.”

“So?” Wei Wuxian asked, puzzled. And why should he not be puzzled? To even think…and yet. And yet, and yet, and yet. “Jiang Cheng will explain everything to him, won’t he?”

“My brother will be returning home,” Lan Wangji said again. “After a month and more abroad.”

Wei Wuxian looked at him silently, awaiting an explanation. His tail lashed gently against Lan Wangji’s leg.

“He was visiting his sworn brother,” Lan Wangji said. “Lianfeng-jun.”

“Jin Guangyao,” Wei Wuxian said, his tone heavy – he had understood. “Does your brother visit Jinlin Tower often?”

Lan Wangji nodded tightly.

“And has for many years, I expect? Since the end of the Sunshot Campaign.”

He nodded again.

“Surely you don’t believe that he knew what was happening to Mo Xuanyu?”

Lan Wangji hesitated. “I do not know how he could not have known,” he confessed. “I think to myself if I had only been there – if I had overcome my disdain for the Jin sect –”

“Don’t think like that,” Wei Wuxian said at once, a balm to Lan Wangji’s soul. “You couldn’t have known. The Jin sect is the most talented at deception and misdirection – they wouldn’t have let you see. Nor your brother, either - you would have seen only what they wished for you to see, and poisoned the well of your thoughts to discount anything you did see.”

“Perhaps,” Lan Wangji said, and felt more at peace. It was true that even his brother, with his token, could not so easily travel through the depths of Jinlin Tower freely, without an escort. “I do not think Brother knew.”

“I agree. Impossible.”

“And yet - his sworn brother...it is not unheard of for Lianfeng-zun to unexpectedly accompany my brother back to the Cloud Recesses, and I cannot bring myself to believe that he did not know. As a precaution, therefore…”

Wei Wuxian’s ears flicking back and forth. “I see your point. But still, I don’t think it makes sense for us to go to them – why not write to Jiang Cheng and have him bring Mo Xuanyu to meet us here, while we investigate the Chang clan?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“I’d prefer that, anyway – I really can’t use regular cultivation without Mo Xuanyu around, just demonic cultivation. As we continue to hunt for the ghost pieces, it’ll be good to have both.”

Lan Wangji wondered a little at that. In their first life, hadn’t Wei Wuxian completely abandoned normal cultivation in favor of demonic cultivation?

If so, why the shift back now?

“Besides, I have an idea I want to try that involves him,” Wei Wuxian added casually, so casually that Lan Wangji merely nodded and did not question and did not know until it had already happened.

“Success!” Wei Wuxia hissed in delight, then frowned, poking at his teeth. “Well, mostly.”

“You turned yourself into a catboy,” Jiang Cheng said, his hand over his eyes. “Because of course you did. I hate you. Have I mentioned that I hate you? Becuase I hate you.”

“What’s a catboy?” Jin Ling asked. Apparently he had insisted on joining them, as had Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi – Lan Wangji would have instructed them to remain, but Jiang Cheng had yielded more or less immediately to their requests.

Typical.

“You don’t need to know,” Jiang Cheng said at once.

“How do you know?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Jiang Cheng! What are you doing going about knowing things about catboys? We’ve talked about this –”

“What? No we haven’t! We haven’t talked about anything! You spent the entire conversation that we had over catnip crying your eyes out about how tasty pheasants are!”

Lan Wangji had always surmised that there was more to the conversation than that, being as both of them had emerged significantly less likely to murder the other, but he didn’t have any presence of mind to devote to that line of thought.

Or to any thought.

Not when Wei Wuxian was…well, mostly human.

He had his old face, but a build that more closely resembled Mo Xuanyu’s slenderness and height; his hair was the correct shade, but poking out from the strands were two now-familiar ears that flickered back and forth with excitement. And he was also possessed on inhumanly sharp canines, sharp claws, and what appeared to be a very active tail.

All the features attributed to…well.

Catboys.

(Lan Wangji had also seen the specific genre of pornography being referenced and every single one of those images – including his particular favorite, which involved a collar – was refreshing itself in his mind with a new figure in each starring role.

He was going to spontaneously combust.)

He stammered some excuse and fled the scene at once.

By the time he returned, they had more or less packed up to continue following the guidance of the ghost hand – it almost reminded him a proper night-hunt, actually. The adults, such as they were, led the way, with the juniors following behind, chatting amongst themselves; Mo Xuanyu was hanging off of Jiang Cheng’s arm and chattering at Wei Wuxian like old friends, his eyes curved up in crescents, with much of the terrible pain that he had always carried sloughed off like an old skin, while Jiang Cheng nodded along, oblivious to any hint as always.

Lan Wangji was abruptly struck by a feeling of – satisfaction, he thought.

This was good.

(Don’t look at Wei Wuxian or you’ll start slowing down the trip.)

But how could he resist?

He headed over and took his place at Wei Wuxian’s side, receiving a wide smile – he would die a thousand times over for that smile – for his troubles.

“What do you think, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asked him, and then barreled right on with the conversation without bothering to wait for a response.

Yes.

This was good.

This was how it should be.

Even Jiang Cheng, who Lan Wangji had despised for years…he made Wei Wuxian happy. And since that was the case, Lan Wangji would be willing to put up with him – on a temporary basis, anyway.

“What is this place, anyway?” Lan Sizhui asked from behind them.

“It’s called Yi City, with the Yi as in ‘coffin’,” Wei Wuxian said casually. “Didn’t you see the marker outside?”

“A better question,” Jiang Cheng said. “If it’s supposed to be a city, why isn’t there anyone here?”

“There is, though,” Lan Jingyi said, pointing. “Look, over there – huh, no. I must have seen the wrong thing.”

“No,” Mo Xuanyu said, and him actually disagreeing with someone when it wasn’t in the middle of one of his fits   was so unusual – even after he’d had so much healing – that they all turn to look at him.

He was smiling.

“You’re right,” he said, clapping his hands together happily, his eyes fixed on the distant spot. “There is someone there! I can see them!”

He raised a hand and waved.

“Xue-gege!” he shouted. “Xue-gege, it’s A-Yu! Come out and meet my friends!”

[piteouspeculiarity]

Defining Home: Extended Author's Note

Warning: This might contain spoilers for the series

(For clarity, when I say 'Tommy' etc in this post, I'm talking about the characters from my fics, not the content creators themselves.)

So it's done, huh? This note will include the sappy shit, the fun facts, then some of the more serious stuff, because I just didn't want to add an essay to the end of that chapter.

First of all, thank you all for the support along the way. Defining Home is easily my most popular series of fics I’ve ever written and I’ve been writing fanfic for years now. The comments and the kudos and the bookmarks were so very validating when I was new to the fandom, and still are. Hell, people have gifted me fics and written related fics to Defining Home, which blows my tiny mind. I haven’t gotten the chance to read a lot of them yet (procrastination I know thy name), but when I do, I’ll be leaving my best comments in thanks <3

I'll be honest, when I posted the first chapter of Enough, I never expected it to turn into what it did.

That first chapter was written in my phone notes at 3am, hours before an exam. I hadn't interacted with the fandom at all at that point, didn't even have a Tumblr for it, but boy oh boy did I get a warm welcome.

The point is, that first chapter was a very spur in the moment thing, mainly consisting of one scene I couldn't get out of my head (Tommy on a train to Wilbur's). I've gotten a few people telling me since then that they wished that they could write as well as I can, which is a huge compliment, but every person can write a fic like Enough. There are things that we all struggle with when it comes to writing: dialogue, prose, starting scenes - I have my own things I struggle with, things you might have noticed, things you might have not. You don't have to be a perfect writer to tell a story, especially in fandoms, where betas are easy to come across.

Write your story, even if its just for yourself. Posting that chapter gave me the chance to make new friends and I'll never stop being grateful for that.

One of those friends is Kat, who I've mentioned a couple times in the author's notes, but who honestly, I owe a lot to. Kat has encouraged me and been one of the main motivators to write this fic when I felt like it would never be finished, or that I'd never live up to other people's expectations. Sometimes, that meant motivating in some weird ass ways, but hey, it worked.

People who know me in discord servers might know that I'm a simp for Kat and it's damn true. Kat, I love you, you've improved my life more than you know in the last couple months and you deserve so, so much happiness.

In fear of love reciprocation from Kat, we'll move swiftly on to the more fun side of things.

Anyone feel like fun facts? You might already know some of these because I tend to overshare in author's notes, but I'm pretty sure some of them are new to all of you.

Barney the dog? Named after my own late labrador, who I love very much and loved to jump in lakes and need rescuing, time and time again.

I had no plans in moving Tommy in with Techno, hell, I had no plans in Techno moving to England at all. It was as much of a surprise to me as it was to everyone else when he told Tommy the news, but I latched onto the idea and ran with it. I think it worked out okay, in the end.

Techno has a draw in his bedroom full of parenting books, most of which were stolen from Phil.

After Tommy asked for help about what to do with Dream, Wilbur sent Dream a dm telling him he better not fuck anything up and if he did, Wilbur would not hesitate to humiliate him in front of millions of people. It was unnecessary, of course, but Dream was definitely a bit more cautious about what he said when he listened to Tommy’s explanation.

Some of my favourite things about writing Defining Home:

The Tesco v Asda discourse. Look, some of you just need to accept that Asda is the superior shop and get off your Tesco stanning bullshit. /j

The offers I would get for new chapters, some honourable mentions being newborns, siblings, diamonds and kidneys.

Now, I know that as much as I tried to, I won't have managed to include everything that everyone wanted from Defining Home, whether that's certain confrontations or scenes, I am sorry if I haven't included.

I don't imagine myself writing any more in the series, not because I think there isn't more I could write about, but because as a whole it feels complete to me, and any added oneshots I write would disturb that.

Right now Defining Home feels well rounded in a way that I'm proud of. The minute I realised that Enough was going to turn into a series I planned out how I wanted it to work. Maybe its just the maths part of my brain, but I like how there's three fics, with three chapters in each and how Tommy heals as you progress throughout the series.

My aim for the series was for the tone to get lighter as you went through, because yes, things kept happening (confrontation with dad, beach incident etc) but the point was that Tommy dealt with those things in different ways that he would have earlier on in the series. I have lots of thoughts and lots of emotions about how he felt safe enough with his family to experience nightmares and such. I made an effort in The Truth Behind Family to include more fluff, especially in the last two chapters, because I think it’s important to show that yeah, his parents’ abuse effected him, but it didn’t dictate how he lived his life. 

Like yes, I could write about their first Christmas together, for example, and add it onto the series, but I don’t think that I’d be able to do the rest of the series justice in that. Defining Home is largely about what the title implies, Tommy discovering what words like ‘home’ and ‘family’ mean beyond what he’s been told he’s stuck with and I believe that by the end of the series, he’s been successful in that. 

I'm so proud of the characters I wrote, Tommy in particular, for how far they've come in Defining Home, but I think that in a way, it’s time for me to let them go.

That’s not to say I’m done with writing for sbi! Hell no! 

I have a couple long fics in the works and a one shot I’m working on. The main fic I’m excited to focus on now Defining Home is finished is heavy heart, heavy head, heavy hero which, to put it simply, is an sbi royalty au, where unfortunate circumstances mean Tommy is forced to become King. It’s going to be a little more plot focused than Defining Home was and I am so very pumped to give it my full attention instead of leaving that lonely one chapter on AO3 like I have been doing.

I was 🤏close to making a Discord server, but ultimately decided I’m much more suited to causing chaos on other people’s servers than running my own. I think at this point the karma would be too great to even consider making my own server, so if you’d like to talk to me on Discord, keep an eye for me on other people’s servers - I mainly lurk, but I’m pretty active on one or two :D

On a more serious note, Defining Home deals with some heavy topics and I’ve had comments tell me that they relate to Tommy’s situation and wish that they had their own found family to run to. 

This Tumblr post has a list of phone numbers and places you can contact if you need help or want someone to talk to. Saying that, I recognise that a list as long as that can be daunting, so feel free to shoot me a message and I can either help you find the right one for you, or keep you company for a bit if you need it. 

Not all of us are lucky enough to have our own found family, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t forever, or that you’re alone. My dms and ask box are always open if you want someone to talk to.

Keep yourselves safe <3

- Lee 

[sepublic]

           There’s so much to unpack here!

           Willow has little miniature Christmas ornaments in her hair… And she’s wearing stockings! The kind you hang over a fireplace and put stuff inside! I love it because it’s something that would seem very intuitive to someone unfamiliar with Christmas- They’re giant socks, why would you not wear them??? Luz would be 100% supportive because they look GREAT on Willow, and honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if she totally agrees- That she’s always wondered why people don’t wear the actual stockings, I can imagine a young Luz wearing them as a kid and Camila having to explain that’s not how it works, and Luz is frustrated because she wants some highly-decorative, poofy stockings to wear; So she’s got that vindication to wear them with Eda, and see Willow validate these ideas by intuitively reaching them on her own! Also… PONYTAIL WILLOW, with golden ring earrings!!! Winter Hexside outfits with winter trimmings!

           Speaking of which- We have Gus wearing an ornament as some sort of earring, which to be fair… That ornament looks like a really big version of Eda’s earrings, and she also did the same with those wire hangers back in Adventures in the Elements, which in itself was pretty winter-themed, so! He’s a bit concerned about Mattholomule’s fascination with that coal… Does he know or suspect the connotations behind them? Or does he just have reservations with Mattholomule being there in general? I love the idea of Luz specifically designating the coal as a gift for Mattholomule, knowing nobody will know about the implications- Except MAYBE Gus, who has it dawning on him the little trick that Luz has done! Oh Luz, you’re so mischievous…

           (Also, Mattholomule’s increasing cameos in both the show and Dana’s own art, in addition to her self-professed enjoyment of him, makes me think he’ll have a bigger role later down the line.)

           You have Emira and Edric all the way in the back… Which, the LAST time we saw them, chronologically speaking and in terms of any content whatsoever, it was the two being dejected over getting stood up at Grom, and for a while I languished over this… So it is VINDICATION, relief to see this most recent sighting replaced by something so wholesome! Emira and Edric, happy, cheered up by their favorite human Luz… Either splitting the hat and sweater, or else wearing it as assigned by Luz, because she knows they’re matching! Let me overanalyze the pairings by saying something about the hat going to Emira because it goes on the head and she’s the ‘brains’ while Edric wears the sweater over his chest because he’s the ‘heart’ of the duo… Not to mention, we have Ed wearing the wreath around his neck like a super-gaudy necklace/scarf, but I think he makes it work! He’s so “Oh!” and surprised but in a pleasant way and Emira’s just enjoying covering up her eyes because the hat is too big or she’s literally just feeling it out for fun.

           Love the idea of Luz initiating the introduction of human culture to the Boiling Isles… But with a distinctly Luz flavor to it, because of the way she chooses to interpret and explain it to others; Especially as she’s no doubt self-aware of the power she has and will TOTALLY abuse it to define some human things by what honestly makes way more sense to her, anyway! Not to mention Eda and Gus adding to the chaos with their own interpretations, which Luz either corrects, enables for fun, and/or replaces with her own even more ludicrous and weird explanations. Luz is a trend-setter and she’s going to revel in this power as much as she can, now all of the things everyone thought was weird about her are going to be mainstream in the Boiling Isles! Nobody can stop her!

           But, back to the art- We’ve got a Hooty Jack-in-the-Box sort of surprise… Amity must’ve had a heart attack, but the fact that it’s not demolished means she didn’t destroy it on first sight. In fact, she might keep it- Because it’s a gift from Luz… With a note saying it’s from Luz! And Amity must be so flattered and touched and flustered by these gifts, is this normal amongst friends? Probably, Luz sent the gifts to EVERONE, so… She’s wearing the snowman sweater and is utterly puzzled by the hat? She has no idea what to make of it, but she also clearly appreciates the gesture at the same time? Luz didn’t really bother putting in much of an explanation, if at all… Maybe she wanted her friends to form their own conclusions to see what chaos they came up with, before saying “You’re right all along!” Or something mischievous like that. The twins would approve.

           Also, if the hat was specifically designated for Amity, then… I’ve seen people point out that it has holly on it, but it can also be misinterpreted as mistletoe- Especially since I’ve heard about the two being confused a lot in media and by mainstream audiences, myself included! I’m just saying, it’s not out of the question for Dana to have intended for that to be mistletoe… And if so, then Luz is saying A LOT by adding it there- Though imagine if it was meant to be just holly, but Amity gets it mixed up with mistletoe… Or Luz realizes it could be misinterpreted as such and freaks out, before realizing her own feelings because she has to actually ask herself- DO I have a crush on Amity or not? But even if I did, it’s not like I’m ready to tell her about it…! If Luz is basically telling Mattholomule that he’s a jerk through the coal and hiding behind the cultural barrier, then… What if she was confessing her crush to Amity in that same sort of way? You never know… Well, I imagine Dana herself does, but you get the idea.

           This was a wonderful Christmas gift by the creator herself to the fandom, and it helps to fill the void of no content for this show these past few months, especially with more of the hiatus coming up- We don’t really know how much longer we have left to wait, especially with covid being a thing! I’ve heard some people suggest that we might get a second piece involving Luz, Eda, King, and hopefully Lilith and Hooty and Owlbert… If so, crossing my fingers!

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter ten

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

The knock at the door made Chloe jolt. 

Aubrey was here, and Chloe was a nervous wreck. Even if Aubrey had shown nothing but support in the texts they had exchanged over the last couple of months, Chloe was bracing herself for judgment. It had become her default setting over the last couple of years, to always expect people to think the worst of her. 

It turned out Aubrey couldn’t make it for dinner that weekend and instead offered lunch on the following Monday, so Beca was currently at work. Meeting her alone made Chloe even more nervous; Beca had become her rock, her lifeline over the past couple of months, and someone Chloe actually trusted, and she would have been more comfortable with her being present. 

She wiped her hands on her apron and padded to the door, sucking in one last deep breath before pulling it open.  Her friend looked the same as Chloe remembered her, except for her hairstyle, which evolved into a neat bob and matched the lawyer persona well.

“Hey Chlo,” Aubrey greeted softly, eyes soft and smile shy. 

“Hi,” Chloe breathed out when she remembered she should say something, blinking. 

Before Chloe could step aside, Aubrey stepped forward and pulled Chloe into a loose hug. Chloe’s first reaction was to tense for a brief moment, eventually wrapping her arms around Aubrey’s back, in turn, her shoulders relaxing as she exhaled. 

“Thanks for having me over,” Aubrey said as she backed away.

Chloe nodded with a small smile and took a step back to let Aubrey through. “Come on in. I uh-- I made chicken pasta. Do you still like that?” 

Cooking had been one of the activities Chloe had rekindled with since finishing rehab. Following a recipe was a good distraction from her cravings. 

“I do. Sounds yummy.” 

“You-- you’ve been here before, I imagine?” Chloe asked as she shut and locked the door behind them, leading Aubrey to the main room.

Aubrey shrugged off her jacket. “A few times, yes. I think the last time was for Beca’s birthday last September.” 

Chloe nodded once more, then remembered her manners. “Can I offer you anything to drink?” She asked as she padded to the fridge. “We have water, flat or sparkling, coke and fanta.” 

“Sparkling water is good,” Aubrey said as she perched herself on a stool, resting her chin over her propped-up hand. “How’s it been living with Beca?” 

“Good,” Chloe replied as she reached for two water glasses in the cupboards, the water bottle in her other hand. “She’s been really amazing with trying to make me feel at home. It’s weird though because I can’t pay rent or groceries. I still feel like I’m taking advantage of her generosity.”

Aubrey hummed. “I get that. But you’re not. Beca wouldn’t offer all those things if she felt like you were taking advantage. And we all know you’re not. You’re getting back on your feet and could use all the help you can get, which I’m sure Beca is happy to give.” 

Chloe took a deep breath and nodded. She uncapped the bottle and poured some water into both drinks. 

“How have you been feeling otherwise?” Aubrey questioned then. 

Chloe shrugged, breaking eye-contact. “It’s been a real rollercoaster, to be honest. Somedays I feel fine, other days it feels like I’m drowning. If it weren’t for Beca’s support or--” The baby, which she had yet to tell Aubrey about. She swallowed, forcing herself to meet her friend’s gaze. “A few days before the end of rehab, I found out that I was pregnant.” 

Aubrey blinked twice in slow succession, much like Beca had done. “You are? I mean--” 

“I’m keeping it,” Chloe cleared up before Aubrey could attempt to reword her question. “I know it probably sounds crazy and irresponsible given my situation and who the father is, I--” 

“I think you’re going to make an amazing mom, Chlo,” Aubrey murmured before Chloe could finish. “And yes, your situation is tricky right now, but it won’t forever be that way. And the father might be a dick whose balls should be fed to wolves, but you and I both know that a  baby sharing your genes can’t be evil.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you going to tell him?” 

Chloe froze. She hadn’t dared broach the subject with her therapist for fear of her telling a judge, and she didn’t know what she was allowed or not allowed to do. “Do I… have to? I mean, legally?”

Aubrey shook her head. “No, you don’t have any obligations to. The father’s name on the birth certificate can be left blank, and that means Marco will have no rights over the child.” 

Chloe nibbled on her bottom lip as she processed that information. “What if he finds out? Can he get custody?” 

“He’ll have to submit a petition to the court through a lawyer in order to have a DNA test done,” Aubrey explained. “After that, a judge decides if he has the right to have custody, but I really don’t see how he could, given his track record. I had a friend at the precinct look him up, and he’s been convicted several times for drug dealing and violence.” 

Relief swept over Chloe upon hearing that. The thought of Marco having any influence on that child gave her nightmares. “Okay. Good.” She cleared her throat when her brain caught up with the rest of Aubrey’s sentence. “I didn’t know he was a criminal.” But she wasn’t surprised, now. “I wouldn’t have-- he was really good to me at the beginning, and by the time his true personality surfaced, I had nowhere to go.” 

“He was toxic,” Aubrey said as she nodded. “A manipulator. He probably loved the hell out of you at first, bombarded you with sweet messages and calls and flattery? And little by little, the connection faded and you started to feel meaningless? Unworthy?” 

Chloe could only nod faintly, because Aubrey had just put into words what her relationship with Marco felt like, without Chloe telling her any of that stuff. 

“I come across so many people with the same profile in my job, and the victims, men or women, always blame themselves. But they shouldn’t. You shouldn’t.” 

Her therapist had already told Chloe that many times, but Chloe’s default thinking made it hard to grasp that. Being with Marco felt like chaos reigned in her head, her emotions, her body, her life, and he found a way to make her believe it was her own fault. 

Chloe mustered a soft smile, feeling more than ready to stop talking about that for now. “Should we eat?” 

The conversation thankfully transitioned to easier subjects. Chloe caught up on the last six years of Aubrey’s life, feeling a little lighter and more at ease around her friend now that it was clear Aubrey held no grudge or judgment towards Chloe for cutting her out of her life. They found themselves reminiscing about their college days, two hours zipping by without Chloe once thinking about her cravings. 

“I’m just a call away, alright?” Aubrey said as she slid her jacket back on. “And if you ever want to come to Boston for a weekend, I have two guest bedrooms.” 

A genuine smile spread across Chloe’s lips as she nodded. “I’d love that.” Chloe was the one to initiate the hug this time, letting it linger. “Thank you for coming down, Bree.”

Aubrey smiled back. “It was my pleasure. See you soon, Chloe.” 

Bean’s thirteen-week-check-up took place the following day. Chloe was set on having as many tests done as possible at this stage, with an NT scan to help assess the baby’s risk of having complications such as Down syndrome, other chromosomal abnormalities, and major congenital heart problems, as well as full blood work to rule out cystic fibrosis and Tay-Sachs.

Bean passed their scan with flying colors, much to her relief. The heartbeat was strong, and 

Bean’s features were unmistakably human this time around; Chloe could make out Bean’s head and their nose and the round belly and tiny feet.

She went home with three pictures, and Beca insisted one should go up on the fridge. 

The following month was punctuated with more therapy, NA meetings, and the visit to Oregon. Chloe felt more at home in Beca’s apartment with each passing day, though she tried her best to stay out of the way whenever Sarah was over. 

On the day of their departure, Chloe was beyond grateful Beca agreed to come with her, as telling her parents the truth felt incredibly daunting. 

They landed in Portland a little after four that Thursday, renting a car to drive the two hours to Newport, where Chloe’s childhood home was located. As Beca parked the car in her parents’ driveway, Chloe was rooted to her seat with nerves. 

Beca’s hand on her leg snapped her out of it. “Hey.” Chloe turned her head to the left, meeting Beca’s soft eyes. “Breathe. In and out.” 

Nodding, Chloe inhaled deeply through her nose and released the air through her mouth, closing her eyes. She reached for the door handle next and stepped out, swallowing thickly as she let her leaned legs carry her to the front door. She pressed the doorbell and stepped back, instinctively reaching for Beca’s hand. 

Her mom appeared on the other side a handful of seconds later, and she engulfed Chloe into a hug before Chloe could even utter anything. 

“Hi mom,” she croaked out, her eyes fluttering shut as she released Beca’s hand to hug her back tightly, basking into the instant comfort being in her mom’s arms brought her. 

Alice pulled away but kept Chloe at arms’ length, her gaze sweeping over her features. “It’s so good to see you, baby.” Her focus shifted to Beca, and she embraced her next, keeping it a bit shorter. They had met each other before when her parents flew to Atlanta for Chloe’s graduation. “Welcome to our home, Beca.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Beale.” 

Chloe’s mom glared playfully, tutting. “It’s Alice to you. Come on inside.” 

They stepped into the house, a smell Chloe knew well drifting from the kitchen: her dad’s famous lasagna, Chloe’s favorite. 

“Hey Chlobear,” her dad greeted as soon as they rounded the corner, smile bright and eyes sparkling as he sat in his electric wheelchair by the couch. 

Tears pricked behind Chloe’s eyes, and she crossed the distance between them, bending down to hug him. His working arm drifted up to snake around her back. “Hi, Dad,” she whispered, emotions trapping her voice in her throat. “I’m so happy to see you.” 

“Me too, sweetheart,” he murmured, his own voice wavering. “I made your favorite. Well, your mom made your favorite under my supervision, ‘cause she would have messed it up otherwise.” 

“Hey,” Chloe’s mom objected, drawing a chuckle from both Chloe and her dad. 

Chloe straightened, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “You remember Beca, right?” 

“Of course I do,” Mike confirmed as he made his chair go forward, then extended his hand. “How are you, Beca?” 

“Hello Mr. Beale,” Beca greeted, shaking his head. “It’s nice to see you again.” 

“You, too. And it’s Mike. No Mr. Beale around this house.” 

Beca laughed, nodding. “Got it, Mike.” 

“I hope you guys are hungry, we’ve made enough food to last us until next month,” Mike commented as he moved towards the table. 

After freshening up, she and Beca sat at the table just as Alice pulled the lasagna out from the oven, then grabbed the salad and the wine bottle from the counter. 

“Wine, Beca?” She asked, holding up the bottle. 

“I’m good, thanks, though.” 

Chloe glanced at her. “You can have some if you want.” 

Beca shook her head, smiling softly as she unfolded her napkin and draped it across her lap. “I’m okay, I promise. Water’s fine.” 

Chloe caught her parents sharing a confused look over the exchange, and she cleared her throat, knowing it was probably best to get this over with. “Mom, you should probably sit down.” 

Concern creased a frown on Alice’s forehead as she set the bottle down and lowered herself next to Chloe’s dad. “What’s going on, Chloe?” 

Chloe took a deep breath, and she felt Beca’s hand cover her own under the table. She flipped hers over and wrapped her fingers around Beca’s, grateful for the grounding contact. “I um--” she swallowed, unable to figure out where to start even though she had practiced her speech countless times leading up to their visit. 

Shame and guilt rushed through her, digging their claws into her heart and lungs, making it harder to breathe. 

“Chloe,” her mother’s voice pierced through the buzzing in Chloe’s ears. Chloe looked up from her plate, finding soft eyes. “Whatever it is, you can tell us.”

Chloe closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath, forcing herself to own up to her situation by looking at her parents while she spoke. “I have a drug problem. Had. I’m--I’m in recovery. I got out of rehab a couple of months ago.” 

A heavy silence settled over the room as Mike and Alice processed the news. Chloe felt like bolting out of the house as she watched her dad swallow thickly, and her mom’s jaw-dropping. She felt a squeeze to her hand and remembered to breathe. 

“Oh Chloe,” her mom whispered and got up to sit in the vacant chair on the other side of Chloe, taking her other hand as she tilted her head to the side. “How long have you been struggling?” 

Chloe cleared her throat. “About five years. I never-- I never graduated from vet school. I dropped out.” 

Her father frowned, his mouth moving wordlessly for a few beats. “But-- the money you gave us for my treatment every month?” 

“I was a stripper,” Chloe admitted quietly. “That’s how I got introduced to cocaine. How I met Marco. How I... made so much money.” She was hit by an array of emotions -- shame, fear, and somehow, relief -- right then, and a sob burst out from her throat before she could reign it in. “I’m s-sorry I lied to you for so long.” She released Beca’s hand to cover her mouth, her body shaking as she crumbled under the weight of her feelings. 

She didn’t fight it when her mom pulled her into her arms, rubbing her back in slow circles and whispering reassuring words into her ear. “It’s okay, sweetie. Breathe. We love you. No matter what.” 

It took a few minutes for Chloe to be able to get her breathing under control, straightening when she did and taking the tissue Beca offered her. 

“You must have a lot of questions,” she murmured, licking her dry lips. She still had the baby bomb to drop, but one thing at a time. Thankfully she wasn’t showing that much yet, and her large hoodie kept her small bump concealed. 

“Thank you for telling us,” her father murmured, and Chloe saw him wipe a tear away when she looked up. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be, as for deciding to seek help.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t do it before. I was ashamed and lost and--” she shrugged. “I wasn’t myself.” 

“How are you feeling now?” Her mom asked softly, pushing Chloe’s hair behind her ear. “You said it’s been two months since rehab?” 

Chloe nodded, sniffling. “Ups and downs. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Beca. She’s the one who encouraged me to get help, who paid for rehab, continued paying for your treatment, and I’ve been staying at her place while I get back on my feet.” 

Both her parents’ focus shifted to Beca, gratitude swirling in their eyes. 

“She’s been incredibly strong and responsible,” Beca said, smiling softly. “Hasn’t missed a therapy session or NA meeting since getting out of rehab.” 

“And this Marco…” her dad trailed off in a questioning tone. 

“He’s out of my life. He wasn’t a good person, but I failed to realize that.” 

“More like he hid it well,” Beca corrected gently. Chloe met her eyes. “Remember what Aubrey and your therapist said about how you didn’t have to blame yourself for that?” 

Chloe nodded. “Right.” 

“Did he… hurt you?” Mike asked next, a tremor in his voice as he seemed to brace himself for the answer. 

“Not physically.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but Chloe didn’t think that slap was worth mentioning. “Just… emotionally. He knew how to get into my head, and the drugs didn’t help. They have this funny way of having you believe whatever it wants you to. Logic and reason no longer existed for me when I was at my lowest. I was ashamed of lying to you every time we spoke on the phone, but the paranoia over you not wanting to talk to me again if I told you was stronger.” 

She was sure her dad had a lot more questions and probably wondered if his treatment and their financial problems pushed Chloe into taking that job, but he remained silent, clearly mulling everything over. 

“We could tell you looked tired every time we called, but we never…” Alice trailed off, shaking her head as a few tears rolled down her cheeks when she blinked. “I’m so sorry.” 

“No,” Chloe croaked out, having feared this: her parents blaming themselves. Her heart felt incredibly heavy as she sandwiched her mom’s hand between her own, glancing at her dad briefly. “I don’t want you guys to feel guilty and think that you should have noticed. I hid it well, especially the first few years. Then it sort of derailed, that’s why I stopped visiting. Please don’t apologize.” 

“Did you take that job because you felt like you had to help us?” Her dad asked, just as Chloe had predicted. “With my treatment?” 

Chloe took a deep breath. “I took it because NYC was expensive and I was struggling a bit with rent. And when your health worsened, I asked for more shifts to help out.” She didn’t want to get into what she was asked to do for more money. She couldn’t. Her dad would be eaten away by guilt if he knew how much of a toll working in the VIP room took on her. The whole truth would hurt him more than a small lie. “It’s when I started doing drugs that everything fell apart. It’s not on you, dad. I promise.” 

Mike swallowed and ran his hand over his face as he visibly tried to keep a hold on his emotions. “You’re my daughter, you shouldn’t have had to provide for me, or to put yourself first.” 

“Dad, please,” Chloe whispered, feeling her throat shrinking. “I wanted to help. I just… made bad choices and met the wrong people. It’s not your fault.” Her eyes found her dad’s. “Please tell me you believe that?” 

Her father remained silent for a stretch as he stared at her. He eventually offered a faint nod, but Chloe wasn’t sure if he was being honest. 

Her mom reached up to wipe her tears away, sniffling. “What… what can we do to help you through your recovery?” 

“Being part of my support system, like you unknowingly have since I got out of rehab,” Chloe murmured with a small smile. “And dealing with more of my visits,” she added, knowing they would both be all for that.

“You are always welcome to move back here, Chlo. For as long as you want,” she offered. 

“I…” she cleared the rising lump in her throat as she briefly glanced down to her lap. “There’s something else that I need to tell you.” Another deep breath. “I’m four months pregnant. With Marco’s baby. But he’s not going to be involved. I’m going to raise them on my own.” 

There. Everything she was ready to share was out there in the open, and Chloe felt incredibly lighter, despite her heartbeat picking up as her parents once again fell silent. She really couldn’t blame them, after everything she had just dumped on them. 

“I know it’s a lot,” she added, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I know my decision to keep it might come across as strange, but I couldn’t get rid of it, and this baby is giving my life purpose again because I want to be a better person for them.” 

“I think you are incredibly brave,” Alice said after a little while, reaching out to catch a tear falling on Chloe’s cheek with the side of her pointer finger. “And I’m failing to find words to express how proud of you I am.” 

Chloe sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand as her gaze met her dad’s once more. She could tell he needed more time to work through everything, and maybe they could talk about it some more the next day, once he had slept over it. 

“That kid is going to be the most spoiled grandchild of all Newport,” he joked with a soft smile, his words loosening the nerves in Chloe’s stomach.

Chloe released a watery giggle. “I love you guys.” 

“We love you, too, Chlobear,” her dad murmured, and after embracing her mom tightly, Chloe stood up and rounded the table to hug her dad. 

They eventually dug into dinner, the conversation shifting to the baby, whether it was okay, what the risks there were, when was her due date... Her parents offered to turn the office into a nursery if Chloe wanted to move back in with them, to which Chloe answered that she would think about it. She had been concerned about how much the pregnancy and having a newborn baby around would affect Beca’s life and her relationship with Sarah, and this would be another alternative to which Chloe needed to give some serious thought. 

Chloe and Beca headed upstairs shortly after dinner, both feeling exhausted as their mind and body were three hours ahead. After showing Beca to the guest room, Chloe changed into her pajamas and washed up for bed, knocking on Beca’s door on her way back to her own bedroom. 

She pushed it open upon hearing a soft come in, finding Beca lying on top of the comforter, already changed in her sleeping wear. 

“You okay?” She asked, smiling as Chloe sat down on the edge of the mattress. “That went pretty well.” 

“Yeah, I…” she swallowed, shaking her head in leftover awe. “I have amazing parents. I didn’t think they would be so understanding.” 

“Of course they’re amazing. They raised you.” 

Chloe bowed her head as blush bloomed in her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “I think my dad is a bit shaken up and part of him feels to blame, but I’m hoping he and I can talk some more tomorrow.” 

Beca nodded. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.” 

Chloe let out a small sigh, and she reached out to squeeze Beca’s hand. “Thanks again for coming here with me.” 

“Not a problem. I’m hoping you’ll show me around the town at some point, take me to your favorite spots.” 

“We can definitely do that tomorrow,” Chloe agreed, her smile genuine. “Goodnight, Bec.” 

“Night Chloe. Night Bean.”

[festivecuriosity]

[October 13, 2020]

♡ Mercury retrograde in Scorpio is happening tonight. I can already feel/see it's influence. It also doesn't help matters that my current household is primarily made up of Scorpios or Plutonian individuals (most of my roommates are "essential workers" like EMTs or caretakers). Brad (the most Scorpio of the house) has called for a rare consideration; that there be silence in the living room (communal space) when he comes home. He's never asked for that before. This feels very symbolic of Mercury Retrograde in Scorpio. A moment of silence in our otherwise very talkative household. Besides that, he's coming home right around the time MRX/Scorpio would be officially beginning.

♤ Identifying omens is part of my practice. It's one of my oldest, foundational, cornerstones of how I communicate with the Universe and my guides. When you notice something (really notice it) to the point that it stands out in your mind and you end up thinking on it all day, it is an "omen". A symbolic representation of the message the Universe is sending you. I was given an omen by the Universe yesterday as to the immediate future/Mercury RX in Scorpio. I was outside (smoking) when I saw a hawk soaring in the air, being pursued by two black crows, and navigating around their assaults. The hawk (personally) represents my spiritual vision/focus/accuracy. The two crows, I believe, represented thoughts that attack my focus. I.e. Huginn and Muninn, thought and memory. Although, Huginn and Muninn are technically ravens. Not crows. I still think the message from the Universe is to tame my PTSD/where my mind goes/stay focused on my goals instead of letting my negative thoughts pick at me.

Also kind of reminds me of the qliphothic sphere/inverted sphere of Netzach. Where the "crows" pick at the beauty of Source. Another reminder to keep my inner criticism from attacking my spiritual focus/my ability to see the beauty in my life and self.

Two other people in the household got omens on the same day as me. One person got a vulture eating roadkill on the side of the road, the other got a brown cricket. Since the vulture means rebirth and ressurection through shadow work, I think the household is going through a transitional phase (what affects one person in the house typically touches all of us). I am not certain on the brown cricket, however. Good luck? What struck me the most about it was that my roommate was trying to catch it...and it always knew when to hop away just in the nick of time.

♧ I've been rearranging/unpacking my boxes from Seattle finally. For a long time now, I've just been living out of boxes, and refusing to do much magic. I didn't even set up my altar when I got all my stuff back from [Redacted abuser]. It's taken awhile to even get myself back to directly communicating with my guides...much less the Universe/Source. Anyways, I'm finally going through my boxes, and setting up an official altar area. When I was getting into my old rock and crystal collection (I was into that stuff way back before I realized how harmful the crystal/gemstone trend is for Earth's environment), I found an old piece of Mookaite that I friend gave me. And I shit you not, the thing physically vibrated in my hand when I touched it.

I've been holding it ever since. Have totally and honestly forgotten all the exact properties of the stones I own. It's been such a long time. I was also practicing "crystal/crystal energy psychicism" when I was homeless as a means to survive the streets so...I'm pretty sure my PTSD is blocking a lot of that information out.

I guess it's time to rediscover crystals again? Not buying any new ones. Just utilizing the ones I already have to the best of my ability. I feel like it was wrong that so many of them were taken from the ground to be pretty baubles for people. I might as well make it worth something by using them to help myself/others/incorporate them into my active life so they hold meaning.

Mookaite feels very grounding and soothing already. It feels like a very receptive stone, inviting energy into it much like organic pearls do. I also notice that it has almost a dream/trance-like affect to it's grounding energy. I think maybe I'll take time to meditate with it tomorrow.

◇ Brad pretty much runs the household that I live in. Further details; I live in a BDSM polycule, Brad is one of the doms. One of Brad's relationships was very close to being homeless recently. While normally, being homeless is... [redacted PTSD disassociating moment] being non-binary and homeless during COVID-19 is even worse. So we took them in. Inevitably, we had to make some major adjustments (about space, because technically we're fitting 9 people in a 2 bedroom house). It's been a test of adaptability through chaos for everyone. One of the major areas of contention is that everything inside the house is getting moved, rearranged, or tossed. And some people (mainly [redacted name]) is absolutely 100% terrible at adapting to change, unless someone is literally dying. Also, while I get that none of this can really be helped, I'm also a bit annoyed by the sudden introduction of someone new.

But even if I'm annoyed by it, I wasn't about to say "no" when Brad told us what was going on. I'm not a monster. I was homeless too and Brad helped me get off the streets. This person, while I don't know them well enough to make a judgement, deserves the same chance that I did to get stable in an era where stability is a pipe dream.

I'm actually not the one having the hardest problem. Surprising, it's the spirit of the house that's having the hardest problem. Our house is an old 1950's model built at the corner of a crossroads. Technically the house kinda exists as a liminal space. And there's so much stuffed inside of it that theoretically anything *could exist* in the house. Sometimes weird shit pops up and then disappears. It's very similar to the Seattle house I lived in when I was with [KILL BILL SIRENS] but has less of a metaphorical underworld cave vibe and more of a Howl's Moving Castle vibe. Anyways, the house itself is having a bad time adjusting to all the change/cleaning that the new roommate is doing...because it keeps hiding and moving (specifically) all the stuff that the new roommate has. They're not a stoner. They have a decently good memory. And I know that nobody in the house would do something like that. Plus, they apparently heard disembodied laughter right after discovering something was missing. The genuis locci (house spirit) is fucking with 'em hard.

I've never seen the genius locci do this before. The worst it ever did to me was hide a really expensive Egyptian cotton pillow case once. It eventually spat it back out after cuddling with it, I imagine. Seriously; Egyptian cotton sheets. Get you some.

So after the 100× time today that the new roommate was swearing about their missing things, I suggested that maybe they need to butter up the genius locci with gifts. Kinda romance the house a bit. Give it something so that it builds a relationship with the spirits that live here. They're a (self-professed) baby witch whose background is Jewish. They mostly excel at kitchen witchery (for now) and incorporating the works and wisdom of the Torah into their life. So they weren't too certain on ritualistic offerings to a house spirit. But with some suggestions from me and listening to their own intuition, they were able to put something quick together. It's nice to see people using magic around the house and learning new skills. And to their benefit, I felt the house chill out a bit after the ritual/gift giving was done.

I have been giving the house/my guides a portion of my nightly tea every now and then. It's honestly nothing fancy but I figure small gifts count for something right?

[akechicrimes]

I'm a brand new goroboy and have questions if you don't mind answering any of them 1. Was everything that Akechi said about the PTs being unjust a part of his detective act or did he really believe that changing hearts was bad prior to the engine room? 2. When did he first suspect the PTs? Did he figure them out immediately at the TV station or did he just become interested in Joker cuz he's gay and figured it out afterwards lol. Basically who sussed who out first? (1/2)

hello welcome!!!!!! we are happy to have u!!!!!!!! 

unfortunately we dont have concrete answers to a lot of these, but i will do my best!!!! these are some really excellent questions so i want to do them justice. and by do them justice, i mean theyre under a cut because it got really long lmfao.

thanks for the ask–this was really fun to write, instead of doing literally any of the work that i was supposed to.

1. Was everything that Akechi said about the PTs being unjust a part of his detective act or did he really believe that changing hearts was bad prior to the engine room?

SHORT ANSWER: we don’t know.

SLIGHTLY LONGER ANSWER: we can’t say for sure but there’s strong evidence that he was probably telling the truth, actually.

VERY LONG ANSWER: there’s strong evidence he both is and isn’t telling the truth in the TV studio scene, but with the qualifiers that (1) he never necessarily says theyre unjust, he says they’re dangerous. (2) he probably thinks the phantom thieves change hearts in the same way that he makes people go psychotic. (3) his sense of justice is basically entirely based on righting wrongs that have been committed against individuals, not what the law says. (also, when i say “individuals,” i mean himself.)

to the extent that he’s lying–he does say that they’re operating outside the law, and that they have unknown and apparently very effective power that cannot be stopped by traditional law enforcement. traditional justice says that if you operate outside the law, that makes you automatically bad. akechi is playing the part of someone who’s lawful good, so when he says, “they’re dangerous and operating outside the law,” he has to say, “that makes them unjust.”

to the extent that he’s telling the truth, that’s basically everything else he says. i do think those viewpoints are his own for a lot of reasons.

when he talks about the changes of heart, he makes it sound like it’s a thing that could just happen to anyone–even people who’ve done no wrong. when akira voices support for the PT, akechi argues back against akira to say “If [Ryuji’s] heart suddenly changed, wouldn’t you think it was the work of the Phantom Thieves?” like it could just happen to any random joe schmoe. he’s acting like someone could just one day change their entire attitude–possibly for the worse–resulting in terror amongst the population.

we have to keep in mind that at this point in time, akechi has no idea that you can steal treasure to change a person’s heart. he doesn’t even know treasure is a thing, let alone that you have to send a calling card to make it manifest. morgana is the person who knew all that stuff, and akechi definitely didnt have access to morgana when he started his hitman career.

so with the way that he’s talking about the changes of heart, i dont think he assumes that changes of heart always change the person for the better. he has no idea that it’s literally removing a person’s distorted desires. i’m like NINETY-FIVE PERCENT SURE that he thinks changes of heart operate in the same way that his psychotic abilities work: you cast a persona spell, and a person goes apeshit.

from his point of view, that’s kind of what’s happening. when akechi casts call of chaos, a person starts behaving in a way they never would under ordinary circumstances in the real world. the changes of heart really look exactly the same way to an outsider’s POV. and to akechi’s understanding, call of chaos can be cast on even good people. from the phantom thieves’ POV, only people who’re mega-dicks can have their hearts changed in the first place, because the requisite to have a palace is a certain level of distortion. (futaba, of course, proving that you don’t have to be a mega-dick to have a distortion, but the TV studio scene happens before futaba.)

akechi’s argument is that leaving that sort of power in just anyone’s hands is dangerous. because that’s a LOT of power for one person to have. akechi would know, considering that he’s in the same position. he’s wary of the fact that there’s no guarantee that that person will use it for good.

that, of course, brings us to the question of “well, what does akechi think ‘using power for good’ is in the first place?” does he think that the phantom thieves are using their powers for good? does he think he’s using his powers for good?

when asked why he seeks justice, akechi says: “Because of sickening human beings… Yes, my contempt for such people drives my sense of justice. It isn’t some grand reason like society’s sake or some lofty ideal. It’s simply an absurd grudge… and extremely personal.” 

the traditional, lawful-good way of thinking about justice is that if you operate outside the law, you’re automatically bad. but akechi’s sense of justice seems to be driven primarily from the hurts he’s suffered, the grudges he still bears, and his conviction that wrongs personally done against individuals should be righted. it’s an end-goal oriented sense of justice.

if wrong-doers are punished and the grudges are appeased, then justice is delivered. how that happens does not necessarily constitute justice. my best guess at this time is that he’d qualify a lot as “the ends justify the means,” since his concept of justice is end-goal oriented. 

of course, i think akechi definitely shows throughout the game that he knows that how you achieve those ends is… not irrelevant. i think his black mask outfit (and a bunch of other things he says) implies that he feels like he is a “villain” of sorts. he demonstrates feeling a type of way about killing okumura. he definitely knows that his actions are morally wrong under particular lenses. take a look at this section:

Akechi: Who cares? My targets were all doing the same damn thing in this eat or be eaten world. [referencing that all his victims were dicks who kind of deserved to get glocked]

Akechi: How is that any different from the Phantom Thieves?

Ann: We’re not murderers!

Akechi: (now looking kind of pissed) So what?! [launches into speil about how it’ll all be worth it when he exacts revenge on Shido]

obviously he knows that murder is morally indefensible. but i think he’s justified it to himself as either not so bad because he killed primarily corrupt people, and/or that it’d be worth it if he achieves revenge on shido. he’s doing some kind of weird karma cosmic-scale balancing of “how much can i get away with and still be able to call it justifiable and justice,” and it looks like his answer is “quite a fucking lot.”

ironically, this makes his views on justice fairly practical. rather than idealistically committed to some platonic edition of justice, he’s more of a “what do i need to do to get the goals i want achieved? what needs to happen to make sure that asshole abusers get what’s coming to them? what needs to happen to make sure that i get emotional closure?” the biggest issue with that is the danger of a Pyrrhic victory–the moment where the means so go far that the ends no longer justify them.

all of this is to say: when akechi is talking about the phantom thieves as potentially unjust, i dont think he has a problem with their methods. “methods” are like a knife–it’s about how you use it, and for what.

i think he knows that changing hearts, and turning people psychotic, is morally skeevy if your sense of justice is very puritanical, but his sense of justice isn’t puritanical. i think he’s wary of what they might be using their methods for. again: his big argument in the studio scene isnt necessarily that theyre unjust, only that they’re dangerous.

seriously, though–changing hearts is potentially a recipe for societal collapse if used the wrong way. imagine if the PT were more self-centered and they went the light yagami route with their new supernatural powers, maintaining peace and order through authoritarian fear. that is, actually, the entire premise of the P5 Vanilla Bad End, in which the PT enforce peace through relentlessly changing hearts and making people too terrified to keep committing crime. 

since his views on justice seem to be defined by what the end goal is, he’d have to know what those goals are before understanding if they’re “just” or “unjust”–which is probably why he keeps hounding akira for akira’s viewpoints on justice, tbh. the phantom thieves are only unjust if their end goal is unjust, not necessarily because of their methods. (see answer to question 2 for related/continued discussion.)

2. When did he first suspect the PTs? Did he figure them out immediately at the TV station or did he just become interested in Joker cuz he’s gay and figured it out afterwards lol. Basically who sussed who out first?

SHORT ANSWER: i pretty sure atlus expects us to believe that he figured it from even before the TV showing–he figured it out when he overheard ryuji saying “It’s not easy being phantom thieves” when they were in the hallway. it’s the same time and place where akechi did his famous pancake fuck-up.

SLIGHTLY LONGER ANSWER: the idea that akechi was just super horny for the guy who gave him shit on live TV and then realized that akira was a phantom thief later as a neat bonus is fuckign SENDING me.

VERY LONG ANSWER: because of the scene with ryuji, i’m pretty sure he knew that akira was a phantom thief, and also i’m half-convinced that he somehow got the TV host to specifically choose akira during the “ask the audience” portion of the show. it’s really too much of a coincidence. 

because of that, i think the other implication of the scene is that he wanted to see what akira was made of when he invited akira for a debate on live television, and was pleasantly surprised when akira had something very interesting to say on the topic of grey morality and achieving justice outside the law.

what’s interesting about that scene is that akechi becomes interested in akira regardless of what akira says about the phantom thieves. akira’s options are “They’re justice itself,” “They’re necessary,” and “They do more than the cops”–so it’s not like akira ever says that he dislikes the phantom thieves, but the level of support ranges and two of these imply a justification/reasoning for it. and then akechi fucking argues back on live television like this is some kind of debate, instead of a daytime talk show meant to distract bored housewives. 

like. akechi gets INTO it. justice is his THING. and here’s akira, who seems to be not only a metaverse user operating outside the law like akechi himself, but also has some pretty grey morality thoughts on what justice is and could be, also like akechi himself.

taking it as a given that he knows for a fact that akira is a phantom thief from the get-go, from even before the TV scene ever even happened, then akechi probably keeps hounding him because akechi’s interested in hearing akira’s reasons. he’s not fishing for evidence, since he already knows. this is very speculative, now, but my best guess is that he keeps hounding akira ever after this scene because he wants to compare notes, one vigilante to another, to hear how akira rationalizes his vigilante work as a type of justice. very possibly, he’s seeking reassurance to himself that his own actions are justifiable. (he certainly seems that way in P5R, especially when he wonders about if a “justice nobody wants” is really a true justice at all, or just someone being self-centered.)

so re: “did akechi figure him out or was he just gay,” the answer is. yes. akechi did figure him out, and also akira made him so intellectually horny on live television that he hounded the man down in public for follow-up dates. 

what a king.

3. Does Akechi have a Velvet Room? Does he experience rank ups with Joker and the game over stuff too? 

SHORT ANSWER: we don’t know. no, seriously, we have no idea.

SLIGHTLY LONGER ANSWER: i’ve seen compelling takes on him having his own velvet room, and i think it’s thematically very fascinating if akechi is quite literally akira’s counterpart in terms of cosmic chess pieces, but i would be surprised if he did. but again, seriously, since there’s no confirmation on the matter, i say akechi’s potential velvet room is fair game.

VERY LONG ANSWER: lore-wise, i’m betting no. akechi was yaldabaoth’s piece, while akira was philemon’s (if i’m remembering my lore correctly). philemon provides the velvet room to aid the people he chooses–yaldabaoth has no such deal. the only reason why yaldo was in the velvet room in the first place was because he wanted to fuck over philemon’s chosen trickster.

it’s the same logic for why someone like adachi wouldn’t have a velvet room: while souji/yu, namatame, and adachi were all given the power to go into the tv world by izanami, only souji/yu was selected by philemon to save the world from ruin, and was accordingly given the resources and aid to do so.

secondary bonus: the psychotic ability/call of chaos just removes a person’s bonds in their heart, which makes them behave as if they were crazy. it’s the exact opposite of joker’s ability to create bonds. yaldabaoth’s one gift to his chosen chess piece was to essentially undo the very social links that make akira strong. so again, i’d be shocked if akechi experiences things like ranking up, or any sort of velvet room/persona fusing mechanic.

personally i think the loki/robin hood divide just happened because he awoke to a persona twice. awakening to your persona just happens at moments of rebellion and strong resolve, and canonically even other persona-users “awaken” (sorta) twice when you max their social link. i’m betting that he just had two moments of resolve: one in which he wanted to be a hero of justice, and one in which he decided he was going to tear shido to the ground no matter how far into villainy he had to go.

but as always, it’s not like there’s a hard consensus on the matter. 

4. How did he kill the shadows of people who don’t have a palace? Does *everyone* have a shadow in mementos?

SHORT ANSWER: he probably kills them in mementos, and also i think we’re expected to believe that literally everyone has a shadow in mementos.

SLIGHTLY LONGER ANSWER: i’m almost certain that the mementos depths section of the game confirms that basically everyone’s shadows are in there somewhere, even if they’re just your average joe with no significant distortions. the palace ruler for that section is “the public,” and also we do see the shadows of palace rulers who’ve had their hearts changed in the mementos depths. so even if you’ve had your heart changed and are supposedly a perfectly good human being now, this evidently doesnt disqualify you for having a shadow in mementos.

VERY LONG ANSWER: morgana says that mementos is the collective distortion of everyone in the area, but not a lot more concretely than that. morgana also says that reality is fairly plastic and that reality is somewhat determined by how we perceive the world, so i think that we’re expected to believe that everyone has, to some degree, some level of distortion.

i could say that jungian theory, which is the theory that the persona series is based off of, says that everyone without exception has a shadow. but this seems a little bit of a doylist explanation. instead i’ll point to persona 3, in which people without shadows literally become comatose and apathetic husks of themselves. this is because having a shadow is actually a fairly important part of a person’s psyche, and not having one doesnt make you a good and perfect person, it makes you a nonfunctional vegetable incapable of cognitive thought.

so yeah, i’m pretty sure EVERYONE is in mementos. with the exception of the phantom thieves, because… i think we’re expected to believe that their personas are in some ways their shadows? but also their personas are like, real-life kinning mythological/fictional characters so hard that you bind them to your soul? frankly i’ve been confused about how shadows work ever since persona 5 had people’s eyes turn yellow when they go through their awakenings, since perosna 4 used to use that as a sign that the person was a shadow, so… maybe i have no idea what the fuck im talking about. LMFAO.

[billyhargrovesbabe]

when words don’t hit | billy hargrove

This was one of those ideas that just wouldn’t stop nagging me until I wrote it. It’s my own little take on a Byers!Reader. I really had fun writing it. It starts out super dramatic, but turns fluffy quickly (or at least as fluffy as it can get). Honestly, it’s got a healthy dose of angst and fluff. Also please excuse any mistakes as I wrote this at like two am. Once again, I have an idea for a continuation of this piece. If there’s enough interest, I’ll post it!

Word Count: 2,325

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of racism, violence, and lots of swearing but it’s Billy so what else is new

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this or any other writing!

You weren’t thinking when you threw the punch. Fuck, you don’t even know if you were breathing or in full control of yourself when it happened. All you knew was that the asshole who had been bullying your twin brother was here, in your house, threatening one of your younger brother’s best friends for his fucking skin color, and you were done with it. Distant memories of your own father shoving your mother into that very wall whilst screaming at her, just like the blond teenager was, flashed before your eyes. So you just reacted. And the world sort of blurred together as your fist connected right below his ribs, next to his spine, and in a perfect kidney shot. You knew it hurt too. You had a mean punch. Between protecting Jonathan from bullies growing up and teaching yourself how to fight just in case Lonnie decided any of you looked like a good target, you could hold your own. You knew when it landed, it fucking landed. But you added a “get the hell away from him, Hargrove,” just for good measure.

So when Billy dropped Lucas, you weren’t surprised. When he grabbed his side in pain, you weren’t surprised. And when he turned to you with a sort of manic look in his eyes, you weren’t surprised. It was when he laughed (and not that fake barking-laugh shit he got away with at school, but full-on chortled), that you were finally surprised. Nobody dared to move or breathe— everyone was just a little too afraid of what the unstable maniac you had just fucking kidney punched was going to do. He held onto his tender right side as he sent you the most lecherous look you had ever received. It was a look he usually reserved for girls like Tina Carpenter or Nicole Harland. Never you, the weird-Byers-kid’s twin. But the smirk he threw your way sent thrills down your spine and in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Well, well, well,” the Hargrove boy drawled. “Look who can pack a fucking punch. I never would’ve thought you were such a little spitfire, Byers. I mean, both your brothers are such pussies.” You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your temper flaring and just rising as you realized he knew exactly what he was doing. He was enjoying getting you all riled up. His eyes narrowed as he delivered what he clearly thought was a devastating final blow. “Tell me, are you this much of a spitfire in bed?”

It was Billy’s turn to be surprised when it wasn’t you who launched themselves at him, but Steve Harrington instead. The fight happened so fast, no one could quite keep up but the two boys in the middle of it all. Somewhere between the posturing, the taunting, and the chaos, it started to go downhill. It wasn’t until Billy was wailing away on poor Steve that someone finally managed to intervene again. Max grabbed the syringe full of sedative and drove it into her step-brother’s neck. You didn’t dare intervene as she finally stood up to the jackass, but you immediately rushed to his side to check on him after if only to make sure he wasn’t dead from that much tranquilizer. You had essentially become the Party’s medic after everything last year (their healer, if you wanted to get nerdy about it like the kids often did). You immediately checked for Billy’s pulse and found it, a little fluttery but definitely there. You glanced at the syringe where it had landed, knowing it had been filled, and seeing it completely empty.

“He’ll be out until tomorrow morning, easy. Maybe even later.” You sighed, turning to look at the mess that was the living room. Your poor mom would understand, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t suck any less when she came home to this disaster. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught an unconscious Steve on the floor. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be making it back to the lab with overnight bags for everyone like you’d promised. There were more important things to handle here. You turned your gaze to the rest of the teenagers in front of you.

“Right. So. We can go kill the demo-dogs, but you little shitheads listen to me. When I say mission over, it’s over. Got it?” They all nodded eagerly, clearly desperate to do something to help. You searched around for Billy’s keys, only to see them in Max’s hands. She sent you a guilty— but very hopeful— grin, and you couldn’t help the slight smirk that crossed your face. You both knew how much it would piss Billy off that his kid step-sister drove his car—and right now, you were all for a little bit of petty revenge. Still, you had to at least pretend to be responsible.

“Alright,” you mock sighed. “But only because I need to tend to Steve and make sure he’s eventually conscious enough to help. Help me get him in the back, and then we can roll.”

——————————————————————

Billy woke up feeling like he had the hangover to kill all hangovers. He laid on his back, not understanding why the middle-right-side was so sore and why he was in an unfamiliar room. As he shifted to the side, he saw you laying there on the other side of the bed and on top of the covers that he was so meticulously tucked under. He tried to sit up and find some water, but a loud grunt of pain tore out of his throat as the ache in his right kidney intensified.

You shot up, locked eyes with the heartthrob bully in your bed, and immediately scrambled over the edge. He would have laughed at your lack of grace if his head hadn’t been killing him. Instead, Billy opted for a glare. A really mean glare. (At least he hoped it was.)

Without a word, you handed him the glass of water you had grabbed for him the night before. After a few seconds of thinking, you handed him some Advil too. Apparently incapable of actual words, Billy merely grunted in appreciation as he downed the water and the pills. You two sat in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the Advil to (hopefully) ease his headache. He was the first to break it. “So. What the hell happened?”

“Well...” You weren’t quite sure how to go about answering. Direct was best, right? Better start somewhere simple... “You’re in my room.” You saw his eyebrows shoot up at that, an excited and smug grin stretching across his face. You rushed to correct him. “Not because of that, jackass. Will’s friends, your step-sister included, were worried about going home last night. By the time they managed to... clean everything up, you were still out cold. Mom decided to let them stay the night, call it an impromptu sleepover, and phoned everyone’s parents this morning to let them know where their kids were. And we couldn’t exactly have you taking up the couch and the living room, so...” You trailed off, refusing to look at the still-too-smug teenage boy in your bed. Neither Jonathan nor your mom had really been all too happy about it (or Steve, for that matter). You calmly reminded everyone that not only were you the most suited to treat his injuries, but you were also fully capable of defending yourself. The kidney punch you had landed was your key piece of evidence. They couldn’t exactly argue with you there, but they made you promise to call them at the first sign of trouble. So what if they didn’t know you had let him stay in your bed? As far as they were concerned, Billy had slept on the cold, hard ground...

As you spoke and the pain began to subside, Billy suddenly realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He leered over at you, a very hot despicable smirk slowly stretching from one cheek to another. You saw that detached glaze settle over his eyes again, locking the confusion and discomfort (and was that embarrassment?) away as his typical jackass mask slid into place.

“You know, kitten, if you had wanted me shirtless that badly, you could’ve just asked.” He drawled it so lazily, like the crass words meant nothing to him, as he practically posed on your bed. You bit back the blush snippy remark that was just itching to fly free as you grabbed his shirt off the ground.

“I wanted to check on your back,” you ever-so-calmly replied, chucking his shirt at his face and hoping to cover the alluring stupid smirk he still had plastered on. “You know, from where I punched you. I wanted to make sure the bruising wasn’t too bad. And I wanted to check if Steve had done any awful damage to you.” The unspoken like you did to him hung in the air between you two. You saw the carefully detached gleam in his eye give way to some indecipherable emotion. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was regret. But the violent teen quickly scoffed, and you were sure you had imagined it.

“Guess I’m just built to last, sweet-cheeks,” he lazily threw the innuendo your way as he pulled the shirt back on. He doesn’t even have to try with these, you thought. You refrained from the eye-roll a comment like that usually would have elicited as you realized he was trying to keep his back out of your sight. He was even shifting so you couldn’t see it as he pulled the shirt over his head. But you had already seen everything. And from your own experience with an abusive asshole of a father and a teary mother who needed patching up (which was left to you since she refused to call the hospital and Jonathan used to get squeamish at the sight of blood), you knew what it meant.

“Billy,” you started quietly. The air in the room suddenly seemed thick with the tension of the situation. “I saw the other bruises on your back. And sides. And the really faded one on your stomach.” The boy in front of you froze, looking like a lion with his curly mane of bedhead that had just been backed into a corner. He carefully watched you, only half-finished with pulling his shirt down over his toned stomach. The detached facade was entirely dropped now as a sheer fight or flight response seemed to kick in. You jumped to beat him to (what could literally be) the punch.

“I’m not going to pry. I’m not going to ask questions.” You rushed to reassure him. After all, you didn’t need to. In your few conversations with Max, you had managed to chat with her enough to recognize a girl dancing around talking about her broken home. You had a hunch where those older bruises had come from. “I’m just going to say this: I know those bruises didn’t come from a fight. You’re too good at fighting for anyone to land a hit that smarts like that. But. Anytime you need to get away from the person who did that, you can come here.”

The offer seemed to sit in the air between the two of you with a huge, weighted presence. You saw the suspicion immediately set in as his jaw set and his eyes started to harden again. How could a guy who had said so little so far communicate so much? You were starting to think he was easier to read than you realized...

“I’m not trying to dig up some dirt on you or gain any kind of upper hand here,” you said, slowly approaching the bed. “And I can guarantee Jonathan won’t try to use it against you. I love him, but he’s too fucking scared of you to even breathe when you’re around.” You tried to joke with him. It didn’t quite land. Joking had never really been your strong suit though— helping was. “But if there’s any household that might know what it’s like to deal with abuse, it’s ours. My dad was a jackass. And while Jonathan tried to protect Will, I was left to help my mom clean up and face him again afterward. And now I want to help you.” You were sitting on your bed by this point, careful not to get too close to Billy. You wanted to leave him with his personal space, in case he needed to run. Instead, he looked you over with an assessing (and dare you say hopeful?) gaze.

“I’m not some fucking charity case, you know,” he practically hissed at you.

“I know,” was your calm response.

“I’ve been managing just fine on my own. Why would I need your fucking help?”

“You don’t. But I want to offer it anyway.”

He sat back at that, seemingly turning the words over in his head. You watched him slowly pull down the first of the many, many walls up in his eyes. “You’re pretty alright, you know that Byers? Nothing like that pussy brother of yours.” You rolled your eyes at the dig and playfully huffed. If this was the game he was gonna play, you could keep up. But you weren’t going to let him get away with being a total dick.

“Jonathan has a lot more going for him than you give him credit for. But thanks.” You sent him a small smile. “And please, call me (Y/N).”

“(Y/N), then.” He wasn’t quite ready to return your gentle, friendly smile. You hoped he would be soon though. In the meantime, you’d settle for the charming smirk that quickly stretched across his face.

“Why haven’t I taken you for a drive yet, huh (Y/N)?” He put an emphasis on your name like he might any of the ridiculous pet names he insisted on calling girls. Billy playfully wiggled his eyebrows at you, blurring the lines between flirting and being friendly. You laughed at him, sending a smirk right back. He didn’t offer you an apology for the night before (of course, there were others who deserved to hear it way more), and he wasn’t trying to fix the damage he had done. It didn’t even come close to patching up the issues his anger and his ego caused. And it didn’t explain or excuse any of it. But it was a start.

“Please, Hargrove. You couldn’t handle me. You said it yourself, I’m a spitfire. And I’m not as easy as the other girls you... drive with. You wouldn’t know what to do with me.”

“Maybe not,” Billy admitted. His smirk lessened slightly, but his eyes maintained that playful glint. “But I’d sure like to try.”

[franklyshipping]

Love Never Gives Up On You ~ A Markiplier and Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

THIS IS A HECKIN WONDERUL ANON PROMPT THAT I'M VERY EXCITED TO WRITE! WARNING: THIS STARTS OFF WITH SOME ANGST REGARDING TOXIC AND UPSETTING RELATIONSHIPS, SO DON'T READ ON IF YOU FEEL THAT THOSE THEMES MIGHT AFFECT YOU! PRIORITISE YOUR OWN HEALTH PLEASE! Okey dokey LET'S DO IT!

TAGGING: @silvlee-shepherd and @chase-brodlee

The only real sound in the room was laboured, rasping breathing. The only movement was that of a half-curled body, rocking back and forth and back and forth, never stopping. This is why the worst thing you can do if you're feeling even a little bit not good, is stew in your own thoughts. That's what Chase Brody was doing and let me tell you, he was NOT having a good time inside his own head right now.

It was official, he and Stacy were no longer married. The divorce had been finalised and all was said and done, Chase was in a stable living space with all the Septics too....but he honestly couldn't have felt worse about the situation. Up until right now, he'd never actually imagined what it would be like not being with Stacy anymore. He felt so empty....he even missed the fighting....because then at the very least she was talking to him. Most of all though, he missed his kids. His beautiful, innocent, smart kids who had none of their father's sadness or their mother's anger, they were just all perfect. Chase whimpered into his hands....he just wanted things to be back like they were, he just wanted his famil-'

'JACKIE-BOOOOYYY-o-oh my! O-Oh Mr Brody I-I am so sorry!'

Chase jumped and hurried to wipe his face when his door was opened at speed, by none other than Silver Shepherd himself, who evidently was looking for the heroic septic. Silver wrung his huge gloved hands awkwardly, since at the moment to him it just looked like he'd severely startled Chase. Chase averted his eyes, every thought in his head was wishing Silver out of the room.

'J-Jackie's in the gym, y-you'll find him th-there....'

Chase's teeth were gritted as he stammered, hoping he could hide his shit emotions for just a few more seconds, long enough for Silver to accept his words and just get out. However, whatever you might think of Silver Shepherd, if he sees even the slightest hint of distress or discontent he will fight it until it's not even atoms. Silver saw Chase's tension, his watery eyes, his blotchy tear-stained cheeks. Jackie-Boy Man could wait.

'Hey ah....are you alright? You don't look...well....'

Silver tensed when Chase let out a dry, joyless laugh before replying lowly.

'Wow, thanks, you r-reeeeally know how to s-sweet talk a guy huh?'

Silver nibbled his bottom lip nervously, before shutting Chase's bedroom door behind him and tentatively stepping further into the room, looking down at Chase as he spoke softly.

'L-Look uhm....if it's worth anything, I-I'm quite an unnoticeable person. B-By that I mean, if you were to tell me things, the odds of someone asking me about you is basically impossible...I'd never repeat anything you told me....'

Silver was getting closer to Chase as he spoke, and eventually decided to sit next to Chase on the carpeted floor. Now, Chase may not have been looking at Silver, but I can assure you that he was listening. With all the chaotic thoughts swirling around in Chase's head, the one thing he needed was just plain logic. And it was logic and honesty that Silver was offering him.

'I g-....guess that m-makes sense.'

As Chase sniffed and wiped his face, Silver decided to keep quiet. He knew that he needed to be careful and tactful with this situation of delicacy, and to do that he had to allow Chase to gather his thoughts at his own pace and without pressure. It didn't matter that Chase wasn't looking at him, what DID matter....was the fact that he talked.

'I-I've ah....just gotten divorced, from the person who a-always put me down and....made me feel like everything I ever d-did was wrong and never good enough....'

Silver's expression softened under his mask because, for reasons that will be addressed later, Silver knew before Chase even said it...that there was a but coming.

'But it....despite what everyone is saying, it just feels l-like I've made the biggest mistake imaginable. Y-Y'know she did love me! She always said I w-was cute a-and quirky! We were good together, and I was good at making her laugh and smile and she always looked happy when one of my trick-shot vids got loads of views, sh-she was proud of me!'

Chase was resolute as he wiped his eyes, and yet his shaky voice persisted. Silver felt a pit in his stomach grow as he saw it....as he saw Chase trying to defend her.

'I-I mean y'know, granted, i-it couldn't last I mean this is the real world! I could never actually s-support her off all of that, we had to prioritise, f-for family's sake! It was always just a stupid hobbie, I-I had to grow out of it eventually! A-And when the kids came along y'know, changes had to be made. I c-couldn't be a-around them dressed like a teenage thug, I had to be an example to them! S-Stacy was so good y'know, planning what we all ate s-so I never had to think about it, k-keeping track of my weight s-so I didn't risk my health around the kids....'

Chase said much more besides this, how even though Stacy would be stern, making sure his sugar intake was monitored, keeping track of his phone calls so the bill could be managed, always having the location on his phone turned on wherever he went so she always knew where he was in case of emergencies. And of course, making sure she always supervised if any of his septic family visited. They were weird she said, she had to make sure the kids were safe she said. Of course, with how much Chase loved Stacy, whatever she said he went along with...with all of his heart. As Chase talked, Silver felt sick. Sick that he wasn't closer to Chase so that he could fix all of this, but by God he was going to help in some way even if it killed him.

'....b-but I-I know all the things I did wrong now! I-I shouldn't have over-reacted and left I mean, sh-she was just always trying to look out for me and the kids and m-maybe if I can just see her again we coul-'

'Chase.....I-I'm sorry, may I say something? Is that okay?'

Chase swallowed, shakily exhaling at Silver's interjection as he glanced at the hero. Chase laced his fingers together and nodded, mainly because his mouth was so dry that it felt like it was going to light up on fire at any second. Silver exhaled through his nose as he thought for a few seconds....before making a decision. First, he slipped off his oversized gloves, setting them aside, before he pulled off the mask part of his costume. Once that was set aside, he smiled gently to Chase.

'You uh....y-you've just told me a-a lot about yourself, that takes a lot of strength, i-if that doesn't sound too cheesy. Uhm, w-with your permission, can I tell you a little about me? Just so it's more even, yeah?'

Through his slightly blurred vision, Chase looked over Silver's face. He was an Iplier alright, and Mark's face was a trusting one....but something about Silver's just had this innocence and....strange tranquility that made Chase want to focus. Another step away from the chaos.

'....yeah....a-alright.'

Silver smiles at Chase, before taking a few seconds to collect himself. This was going to be a raw conversation.

'I uh....I-I had a girlfriend once. She was funny, clever, a-and just more than I thought I deserved in a person....but uhm....she would say things, make comments about things....'

Silver fiddled with his fingers as he spoke, and Chase couldn't help but listen to him. When Silver trailed off, Chase sat up a little straighter, looking the hero up and down.

'What....what things d-did she comment on?'

Silver smiled dryly as he replied.

'At first, she said I was too fat, and that I was an idiot.'

'That's nasty-'

Chase's breath hitched in his throat as the words came out of his mouth, out of instinct. Because that's what happens when you see something bad happening to someone that isn't you....everyone's always faster to fight back when it's someone else. Chase bowed his head a tad, but Silver's smile was a little wider as he softly nodded.

'Yes....yes it was. It was nasty, it was cruel bullying, and it bordered on verbal abuse with how many times she reminded me of my weight and lack of brain cells....'

Silver let out a light, shaky sigh as he remembered it all, rubbing the back of his neck as he continued.

'But ah....well, I always thought she was looking out for me, she wanted me healthy and all that. Plus, she always told me that i-if I was really meant to be a superhero there were....certain things I had to be. I had to have strength, I had to hone my look for the public and....well, that was the basic gist of it all. I even ended up creating an ego of myself with a six pack of abs and the charisma of a book character....and she chose him over me.'

Silver never stopped smiling his dry smile as he said his piece. Chase swallowed as Silver then looked at him, his voice softening as he asked.

'What do you think? About all those things she said, all those things she told me I had to do?'

Chase sniffed harshly, feeling a pit develop in his stomach, since he was almost reeling from everything Silver had told him. Chase looked up a the hero as he replied, shakily, but with a certainty that made Silver feel that he was doing some good here.

'Nasty....sh-she was nasty to you, you shouldn't have had to change for her....'

Silver perked up at Chase's words, tentatively placing a hand on Chase's shoulder as he whispered.

'....that last bit....can you say it again for me?'

Chase was starting to feel new tears springing to his eyes. He knew where this was going, he knew what Silver was getting at....but thankfully, deep down, Chase wanted to get at it too.

'....you sh-shouldn't have had to change for her.'

Silver squeezed Chase's shoulder reassuringly, because he could see in Chase's eyes that it wasn't just Silver he was saying this for. There was a little silence between them now, where Silver watched and waited, and Chase repeated that phrase. Over and over again in his head until he had them blaring in neon lights in the front of his brain.

'H-How....uhm....'

Silver smiled reassuringly as Chase cleared his throat and moistened his lips, before muttering.

'How d-did you....get away from it?'

As Chase and Silver's eyes met, Silver smiled his biggest smile so far.

'My family. Do you know how many of them there are? I didn't....until they found out what I was going through, and then I got love and support from every single one of them.'

Chase let out a light laugh through his nose at the thought of about thirty people aggressively providing Silver with their support....and he smiled at the thought of how his brothers would probably be even more intense and wildly loving if he asked for their help.

'I....Ihi can kinda imagine that....'

Silver giggled, nudging Chase's shoulder with his as he replied.

'Oh yeah? I bet even one of mine could be wilder than all of yours put together, have you met Wilford Warfstache?'

Now, Chase could take things like insults and nastiness....but you question the wild energy of his brothers and you good sir have a storm coming. Chase felt himself smiling and playfully glaring at Silver's smug, challenging smile and thinking....game on.

'Have you met Antisepticeye? Dude he's feral!'

Silver spluttered and burst into giggles, but he was still determined to defend the absolutely crazy honour of his Iplier family.

'Yeheah well King LITERALLY lihives in a tree!'

Chase was giggling too now....things from earlier were not forgotten, they were just being marvellously overshadowed by all the good that Chase's true loved ones had to offer. Chase folded his arms resolutely as he pursed his lips at Silver, speaking matter-of-factly.

'Well Marvin spits at people who touch his crispy cereal, and Robbie communicates with nibbles instead of words!'

Silver sat up straighter, raising his brow and folding his own arms playfully.

'Well Bim is way more of a nibbler than Robbie is! H-He's obsessed with p-people with soft tummies....'

Chase grinned at that as he listened to Silver stammer and avert his eyes....and Chase just couldn't help himself. He poked Silver's spandex covered belly with a teasy grin.

'Awww does he target yooou? Poor little Silveeer!' 

Silver's eyes widened as he squeaked and covered his tummy, his eyes widening with embarrassment. Obviously he was overjoyed at Chase being so playful, but damn he already got targeted for tickles nearly every day at home and he was NOT going to let it happen now! He narrowed his eyes at Chase.

'....you shouldn't have done that.'

Chase grinned, looking Silver up and down curiously as he saw the hero's pink cheeks and narrowed eyes.

'Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?'

Silver smirked then, a smirk that you wouldn't fathom a superhero wearing, but I can tell you that Silver wore it scarily well. So much so that it made Chase gulp, especially when Silver leant closer and replied with a giggle.

'Ohhh I think you already knooow....'

Chase's eyes widened, and he let out quite a prompt squeak when Silver grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him into his chest, trapping him in a giggly hug.

'I looove cuddles, don't you?'

Silver had affectionately buried his face into the crook of Chase's neck, grinning as Chase giggled and struggled and became the far blushier one out of the two of them.

'N-Noho w-wahait c-c'mon I-Ihi ohonly pohoked you!'

Silver chuckled into Chase's neck, sending tickly vibrations down the man's spine as the hero kept his arms wrapped around Chase's torso. He was trapped, and all Silver's for the tickling, so Silver let the nuzzling begin as he purred.

'Ohhh but that was all it took Chase....that was all it took to bring forth my tickly vengeance!'

Silver growled dramatically as he nuzzled into the soft, sensitive skin that Chase had to offer as said man attempted to scrunch up and fight back. Emphasis on attempted. No matter how hard he pushed, Silver's hold on him remained strong, and with his face buried deep into the crook of Chase's neck....there was no way to block it now.

'N-Nohohoho stahahappihit stahahap! Ihihi'll g-gehehet yohou bahack!'

Chase spluttered amidst his mirth, attempting to fight back with his words since he knew Silver's strength surpassed his by a mile. His little threat merely made Silver giggle, before he developed a devious little thought.

'....are you threatening a superhero?'

Chase wriggled, getting chills down his spine at Silver's lowered tone. He got even more chills when he felt Silver smirk into his neck and growl.

'Because if that's the case....then that would make you a villain that I must vanquish!'

As soon as Chase heard Silver's words, his eyes widened and he started to formulate a reply saying that Silver absolutely did not need to vanquish him and that it was all a big misunderstanding. However, Silver didn't give him the chance to wiggle out of what he had planned, in any regard. Silver smirked and let his hands slip down to Chase's fleshy sides where he could attack them with the most evil squeezy tickles you have ever seen.

'NOHOHO NOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEASE!!'

Chase threw his head back with his hysterical giggles before trying to curl up his upper body, but Silver had the talent of being a very dextrous fellow. He was rather adept at tickling you see....well, how else was he supposed to interrogate his regular villains, he couldn't very well HURT people! So Silver's torture method of choice was tickling, and as Chase was now realising, Silver very much made it into a torture.

'Beg all you want but I will NOT stand for villainy, no sir! And if that means tickling villains like you into submission then by heck I'll do it!'

Silver heroically spoke with his chest puffed out, his resolute fingers wiggling into and scratching Chase's sides non-stop. Chase tried to push his hands away, but every time he moved or shifted he just felt like he was exposing himself more, he was caught between wanted to attack and wanting to defend himself! Being caught in the middle like this meant he could do neither, all he could do was scrunch his red face up with flustered mirth.

'IHIHI'M NAHAHAT AHA VIHIHILLAIN!!'

Silver raised an eyebrow at that, letting his tickling fingers sneak under Chase's t-shirt to target his bare sides as he mused.

'Oh? Then why, pray tell, would you threaten a superhero such as myself?'

Chase shook his head as he squealed, kicking out with ticklish desperation as he cried out VERY preciously.

'IHIHI DIHIDN'T MEHEHEAN IHIT!!'

Silver grinned, fighting hard to hide how giddy he felt at having such a cutie at the mercy of his tickling. Chase was so cute in the way his face scrunched up when he was embarrassed, and how as time went on his struggling got weaker and weaker, which made it easy for Silver to keep on tickling and teasing to his villaino-HEROIC heart's content.

'Hmmm, how do I know you're not just saying that to get me to stop tickling you?'

Chase gasped as his giggles softened a little, since Silver had slowed his tickling so only his fingertips traced Chase's sides rather than wiggling deep into the flesh. Chase gulped and shivered, hurrying to stammer in a way that he hoped would sound believable because my goodness the tickling was breaking him.

'N-Noho I-I-I'm ahan h-honest person I-I'm t-tehelling the truth!'

Chase exclaimed with a whimper, trying to crane his head round to try and see if Silver was thinking about being merciful. Granted, Silver did think about it...however, there was something in his way that was preventing him from providing mercy. Amidst the tickly kerfuffle, Chase's t-shirt had ridden up and exposed Chase's stunning, ticklish-looking stomach. Silver couldn't resist. He leant in close to Chase's ear, and grinned with shining eyes as he whispered.

'Sorry....but I don't think I believe you just yet!'

Chase....absolutely....shrieked. Not only had Silver had the evil idea of blowing a raspberry into the crook of Chase's neck, but all ten of his devilish fingers had set about poking and scribbling all over Chase's stomach.

'AAHHH NOHOHO NOHO FAHAHAHACK!!!'

Silver gasped dramatically, scribbling harder as Chase writhed about hysterically; I mean, if that wasn't a villain's vocabulary then he didn't know what was!

'You rude little villain! Oh yes, I think some more laughter should wash that rudeness out of your mouth!'

Chase laughed and laughed for sure, arching his back as his limbs flailed about recklessly. His face was crimson and his eyes were filled with tears of mirth...even through the madness of the tickling Chase was still having thoughts. Flustering thoughts of his family, how Schneeple always reprimanded him about his cheeky mouth, how Anti and Jackie would gang tickle him until he wept with joy and nothing else....how they'd all make him just feel happiness, and nothing else.

'IHIHIHI'M SAHAHARRY SIHIHIHILVEHER EHEHEHEE PLEHEHEEEEASE!!!'

Chases laughter was flitting between different shrill pitches as Chase thrashed and weakly tugged at Silver's fingers. Silver kept up the tickling though, giving Chase's lower tummy a good hearty scratch as he mused with a grin.

'You've got a seriously tickly tummy haven't you? Does that tickle Chase, hmm? Does it tickle bad?'

Silver almost started to sound like Wilford fricking Warfstache with how much he was cooing, and that just pushed Chase over the edge of flusteredness. He was shrieking and bucking from the scratching and teasing, it was all he was thinking about, anything else that might have been in his mind before had been seriously overshadowed. 

'YEHEHEHES YEHEHES!!! PLEHEHEASE NOHO MOHOHOOORE!!!'

Chase whined through his desperate laughter, feeling achy already from the force of his own laughter, and thankfully Silver heeded his sweet begs. Silver's fingers drew away from Chase's tummy, making the man gasp and hug his abdomen as his residual giggles made him titter adorably. Silver kept hugging him though, Silver's hugs were inescapable.

'Ahalright, alright no more....for now at least.'

Silver snorted and giggled when Chase loudly whined into his shoulder....before his whines swiftly turned into little huffs and snores. Silver grinned and rooted around for his phone, before throwing out a text to his heroic septic companion saying that their planned mission for today was going to lean more towards snuggling rather than the scaling of buildings.

WOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS FICCY LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOOOO LUV YOUS XX

[talpup]

Light In the Darkness:66

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud.  He knew there would be trails.  He knew trouble would come his way.  Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant.  What he didn’t know.  Didn’t expect.  Was that literal Chaos would come his way.  That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble.  Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

66.1

Fuegoleon didn't know what to do.  This was uncharted territory for him. Granted his sister was grooming him to be her next Vice Captain and one day take her place as Captain; but to be thrown into this position with a war starting no less.  He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Nozel must be feeling.  He felt bad for the Silva; but that didn't stop him from being furious at his friend and rival for dragging him into the turbulent deep end along with him.

"What do I do?"  Fuegoleon asked his Captain.

Mereoleona looked at her brother, impatient with him.  Fuegoleon would have to learn and learn quickly if he wished to survive.  She couldn't look after and guide him during a war.  Her duty as Captain of the Crimson Lions wouldn't allow it.  She cursed Nozel for naming Fuegoleon his Vice Captain.  Why hadn't the wrenched Silva heir taken any of the other Captains second in command?  She was sure Sir Jorah would have allowed, if not encouraged, such a thing.  Had Nozel not done so because he had thought having a Vice Captain who had actually earned the position would subvert his authority as acting Captain?  Or had the option of taking an already named Vice Captain never occur to the fool?

"We're headed to the War Room.  The Wizard King has called a Captain's meeting."

"But I'm not a Captain.  Not even an acting one."  Fuegoleon said.

Mereoleona sighed, irritability.  "No.  But in war time Vice Captain's are usually present, though not vocal, during many of the meetings." At her brothers confused look she growled.  "Stay by Quince and don't speak."

They entered the War Room that had more than just Magic Knights present. Fuegoleon paused at the door taking in the high ranking Healers, Investigations Mages, and Sentries seated or standing in the room.

Quince grabbed Fuegoleon somewhat roughly by the arm and pulled him to one of the seats along the wall behind were Mereoleona had sat at the table.

Bronn who had been speaking with Jax came around the large table and sat next to Nozel’s acting Vice Captain.

"How you doing there Lion Cub?"  Bronn asked.

"Leave him be, Bronn."  Quince warned.

Bronn held up his hands to the Crimson Lions Vice Captain.  "Peace. No sense in us fighting when we'll be tried of battling soon enough. And that's coming from a guy who loves to fight."  He looked Fuegoleon over.  "Seriously.  How you holding up?"

Fuegoleon turned his eyes to the Black Bulls Vice Captain.  "Fine."

Bronn patted the royals back.  "Keep saying that.  Maybe you'll trick yourself into believing it."

"He said he's fine."  Quince growled.

"The King just declared war with the Diamond Kingdom."  Bronn said. He glanced across the room at Gilly.  "Anyone who says they're fine is blood thirsty or lying.  I know that Lioness sister of his is a glutton for battle.  But I don't see this one eager for bloodshed."

"That's enough.  Quiet down."  Jorah ordered, entering.  He stood beside his seat at the head of the table.  "Where's my Knights Commander?"

"Here, Sir."  Greywright entered the room with Nozel in tow.  He pointed to a seat between Nozel's Captain and Jax, directing the royal to sit.

"Of course."  Jamie rolled his eyes.  So it had begun already, the Golden Dawn Captain thought.  It might start off with something as simple as Nozel’s lacking knowledge and inexperience causing someone to be tardy to a meeting.  But soon enough it would be something more important and pressing.  The Kings appointed acting Captain was going to get someone killed, Jamie was certain of it.  He just hoped it wasn't him.

"What was that?"  Pyter questioned, tersely.  He hadn't been pleased at Nozel's appointment.  But the young man was one of his.  He'd be damned if he sat by and let anyone disparage a member of the Silver Eagles, even that someone was his best friend.

"Enough." Greywright ordered, his impatience clear.

"Didn't acting Captain Nozel name Fuegoleon Vermillion his Vice Captain?" Heath questioned.  The Purple Orcas Captain looked over his shoulder at Fuegoleon.  "In case you didn't know.  It's customary for Vice Captains to sit behind their Captains on occasions such as these."

"Leave him alone."  Breigha said.

"Is that so?"  Bronn asked from his seat beside Fuegoleon.  "Care to tell me the way of things, Heath?  Cause apparently I don't know them either seeing as I'm sitting over here and my Captain over there."

Heath turned back around.  "Bloody Black Bulls.  Since when do you lot ever do what's expected."

"Speaking of squad names.  I'd like to know what our new fellow Captain plans to call his squad."  Win leaned over looking passed Jax to Nozel.  “The Periwinkle Pups has a nice ring to it if you ask me.”

Jorah lift his chair a few inches and slammed it back down causing several people to jump.  All eyes turned to the Wizard King who looked over the Magic Knights Captain's.  "No.  By all means finish your petty, childish in fighting.  The war will wait."

"We could only hope."  Bronn muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”  Jorah warned, turning to him.

Bronn clamped his mouth shut and shook his head.

"Good. I was beginning to think you truly didn't know what was expected of you at times such as these."  Jorah said.

66.2

Standing with his Captain, Nozel watched Mereoleona and Quince make their way to them with Fuegoleon in tow.

"A team of four Magic Knights may not sound like much."  Pyter told Nozel.  "But any more will only make matters more difficult on you.  I have faith you'll do well.  I, as I'm sure Leona is, are here for you should you have questions or require assistant.  Ask all you can, while you can.  Once were out in the field you may not be able to.  You don't want to cost someone their life because you were too proud to seek help when you had the chance."

"Yes, sir."  Nozel nodded.

"Don't call me sir, Nozel.  It'll be that much harder for the other Captains and Magic Knights to take you seriously.  Address your fellow Captains by name.  That includes me."  Pyter said.

"Yes, si—Pyter."  Nozel cleared his throat.  The untitled name sounded weird and disrespectful on his lips.

"Any idea who you'll be picking to fill the other three openings on your team?"  Pyter asked.

Nozel eyed Fuegoleon.  "I wanted to discuss that with my Vice Captain."

Pyter nodded, pleased with the response.  "You two know each other well enough to know who would work best with you.  Remember.  Magical strength and ability, as well as type; while vitality important, isn’t everything.  You must be mindful of personality and work ethic.  Unfortunately, you will also have to take into account who would respect you and not harbor resentment of your temporary position."

It’s a good thing he’s heir to the second family of the kingdom, Pyter thought, sure that Nozel’s royal rank would afford him enough respect based on that alone.  Then again, Nozel wouldn’t be in this position if he weren’t a royal Prince and heir to the second family of the kingdom.

"I would appreciate any thoughts and suggestions you and—Mereoleona may have once I've spoken with my Vice Captain."  Nozel remarked.

Reaching them, Mereoleona arched a brow.  "I'd be interested in the names you and Leon pull."

"Agreed." Pyter looked to Nozel and told.  "You may have the east wing as your base until we head out."  He glanced at his Vice Captain who speaking with Jamie.  "I’ll have Kess instruct the Silver Eagles they are not to enter the area."

"Sir—Pyter, that’s entirely unnecessary."  Nozel said.

"Where are you and your Vice Captain to stay and work then?"  Pyter asked.  "We leave in three days.  You must decide on your team by tomorrow morning at the latest.  Where do you expect them to sleep?"

Nozel blinked having figured that Fuegoleon would simply return to the Crimson Lions base at the end of each day; as would the others once they were picked.

Pyter shook his head surmising what the younger man had thought.  "You are a Magic Knights Captain.  Your squad must have a place to reside. Together."

Fuegoleon looked over at his sister, countless questions running through his mind.

"I'll have one of the servants pack up a change of clothes and something for you to sleep in.  You can come by the Crimson Lions base tomorrow to get whatever else you’ll want or need."  Mereoleona gave Pyter a communicative look.  "If it's alright, I'll come by later this afternoon or early evening to see who you're thinking about for your squad."

Pyter nodded.  "That works for me.  Captain Nozel?"

Nozel barely managed to control the filch at the title and nodded.

66.3

Fuegoleon sat in a plush chair with a plop.  Throwing his head back he heaved a sigh.  Nozel watched him wondering what he was thinking.

“Thanks for pulling me into this mess.”  Fuegoleon said, answering the unasked question.

“What was I suppose to do?”  Nozel asked.

“Not put me in a position I’m hardly ready or qualified for.” Fuegoleon commented, dryly.

Nozel bristled.  “You’re a Fourth Class Senior Magic Knight.  You’re one promotion away from being eligible to be a Vice Captain.  You’re way more qualified and ready for your position than I am mine.”

“I won’t argue with you there.”  Fuegoleon remarked, watching Nozel make his way around the desk feeling bad for the predicament his friend was in.  “What are you going to do?”

Nozel sunk slowly into the chair, ill at ease even if it was just a regular desk in a regular office.  “With luck, not get us all killed.”

“Really, Nozel.  It’s just the two of us.  You can tell me.  Did your father have something to do with this?”

“How am I suppose to know?  I barely see or know the man.”  Nozel snapped.

Fuegoleon’s eyes lowered, sorry he asked.  He might have thought of his own father as somewhat tough and sometimes distant.  But compared to Nozel’s father, Leonidas Vermillion was the most caring, present father there was.

“I wouldn’t put it passed him.”  Nozel went on.  Thinking that after his father hiring a gang to try and kill Yami, he wouldn’t put anything past Lord Nathyn Silva.

Sure, Nozel wanted Yami gone and threatened the foreigner quite often with his impending demise.  But, Nozel’s threats and imagines had always been within the confines of the law.  Not paid gangs.  Even at the Battle at the Border when he had been tempted to take Yami out, he had known he never would have done so.  Hiring assassins was one of the few things Nozel had thought his father incapable of.  One of the few lines he had thought the man wouldn’t cross.

The flesh on Fuegoleon’s arms pricked at the way Nozel said the words. He gave his head a shake and focused on the task at hand.  “Well, it’s done now.  So, Captain, what three Magic Knights are you thinking of taking?”

“Teris.” Nozel said, without hesitation.

“Now wait--”

“There’s no wait.”  Nozel interrupted.  “She has rare light magic.  She is powerful and a good fighter.  Capable of maintaining a clear head under fire.  More over she’s a thinker.  You saw the way she was searching for answers to that other mess.  She resilient.”

“And your Intended.”  Fuegoleon put in, knowing how it would look.

“That has nothing to do with this.”  Nozel said.

“Nothing?” Fuegoleon challenged, lifting an eyebrow.

“That has…very little to do with this.”  Nozel amended, unwilling to lie to Fuegoleon now that he was his Vice Captain.  At the Vermilion's expression, he said.  “Even if Teris were not my Intended, I would want her for my squad.  We know each others strengths and weaknesses.  The three of us have trained and sparred together so many times over the years that we know what the other is thinking in battle before it’s even acted out.  You look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want her with us.”

“I’d be a fool not to.  Anyone would her on their squad.  There’s a reason all the Captain's raised their hand for her the day she took the Entrance Exams.”

Nozel scowled.  “Then why are you giving me a hard time about it?”

“Because everyone else will.”  Fuegoleon said, plainly.  “They’ll think you chose her for the exact same reason I baited you with.  She’s your Intended.”

“So what?  You were checking to see if I took offense?  What reasoning I had to give to any of those who would dared say such things?” Nozel questioned, tersely.

Fuegoleon stared across the desk at Nozel.  “Exactly.  I was doing what any good friend and Vice Captain would do for their Captain.  I was looking out for you.”

Nozel lifted his chin, posture straightening.  “I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

“You should care.  At least some.”  Fuegoleon said.  He took in the Silva’s set jaw and sighed.  “Nozel.  We would’ve had a hard enough time simply because it’s war.  But now that the King has personally given you a task and made you an acting Captain to see it through, we’re going to have a rough go of it even among our own. You trusted me enough to name me your Vice Captain.  Now trust me to do my job in seeing you’re prepared for whatever may come so that you will succeed.”

“Fine.” Nozel snapped, looking away.  He glanced back at Fuegoleon and asked.  “How did I do?”

“Well enough.  Next time don’t negate that Teris being your Intended has nothing to do with it.  Everyone knows that’s a lie and it’ll appear defensive.  Simply admit that her being so has very little to do with it and explain why.”

“That sounds...reasonable.”

Fuegoleon smirked.  “Well I am a reasonable man.”

66.4

Yami sat in the great room sharpening his katana.  Venice winced slightly at every scrape.  Tobin found the slow, steady rhythm comforting in its own way; and his eyes grew heavy, closing.

Another slam sounded from the Captain's office at the back of the house. Teris looked down the hall.

A couple hours after she had arrived at base, Jax and Bronn had returned.  Shortly after that, the Captain had filled the Black Bulls in on all the pertinent details.  Soon after Bronn had left again, likely to say his goodbyes to Gilly.  Not long after Bronn had gone, Greywright appeared wanting to speak with the Captain alone.  The two men had been in Jax’s office for well over thirty minutes.  And every so often a raised voice or slam could be heard.

“How much do you wanna bet they’re arguing about you two?”  Tobin asked, eyes still closed.

Yami looked over at Teris, the whet stone in his hand halting a beat.

“Stop it, Tobin.  And you too.”  Venice snapped at Yami.  “It’s unnerving.”

“Need a sharp blade for battle.”  Yami said, continuing.

“The reason why isn’t what’s bugging me.  Not really.”  Venice muttered.  “It’s the sound.  Go outside and do it.”

“No.” Yami said.

“Teris.” Venice pleaded.

“What?” Teris turned to her friend, distant eyes focusing.

“Thanks a lot.”  Venice huffed, getting to her feet and heading upstairs.

“No, really.  What?”  Teris called.

Yami smirked.  Lost in her own head again, he thought, watching Teris.  At least this war should keep her away from the page of Chaos.  He wondered what this meant for those in Magic Investigations that were looking for information.  Or the Sentries and Magic Knights that had been patrolling and searching for clue as to where the Agents of Chaos were housed.  No doubt all of that would be pushed to the side as everyone focused on this new thing.

Tobin cracked an eye open.  “Why’d you stop?”

Yami lifted the stone to begin again when the sound of a door slamming open echoed throughout the house.

“You think this is a request!”  Greywright’s voice stormed.  “I’m not asking, Jax.  It’s an order.”

They couldn’t make out what their Captain said.

“That doesn’t change anything.  King Agustus made him an acting Captain. You want to talk about things we don’t approved of?  That none of us like?  Let’s talk about that.  Sir Jorah said he could have three other Magic Knights from any squad and of any rank…” Greywright’s voice lowered to the point it could no longer be heard.

Yami and Teris looked at each other.

Tobin righted his head.  “That doesn’t sound good.”  He looked between Yami and Teris.  “What’s the possibility that the Royal Bird picked the both of you?”

“None.” Yami muttered, a growl etching into his voice.  Nozel Silva would rather die and fail than choose him as a member of his team.  He sheathed his katana and stood, stepping toward Teris.

Teris met him half way.  As worried as she was for Nozel and Fuegoleon, she wanted to stay with the Bulls.  Wanted to stay with Yami.  Staring at him, she told.  “I don’t want to go.”

“Don’t think you’ll get much of a choice if Jax isn’t even getting a say.”  Yami rumbled.

Yami let his emotions follow through him like he did when he fought.  He needed to keep a clear head, not let his concern for Teris and anger at Nozel rule him.  They clearly didn’t have much time left before they would be parted.  And he didn’t want the last thing Teris saw of him to be him furious and struggling to keep it together.

“Royal Bird and Lion Cub.  You’ve trained with them?  Know how they fight and think?”  Yami asked, needing to be sure.

“Of course.  It’s how we learned.  Sparring with each other.”  Teris answered.

Yami nodded, relieved at that.  “It’ll serve you.  Having comrades that you know and trust.”

“I already have comrades I know and trust!”  Teris argued, fiercely.

Yami pulled her into his arms.  He savored the heated feel and heady scent of her.  “I love you.”

Teris tried to push him away, feeling frantic.  “Stop that!  This isn’t goodbye.”

“Of course not.”  Yami said, refusing to let her go.  “I just don’t know when I’ll get to hold you like this again.”

Teris wrapped her arms around him, burrowing her face in his chest.  “Some birthday for you this turned out to be.”

Yami smirked against the crown of her head.  “It wasn’t all bad. Started out pretty great.”

Teris blushed at the memory that seemed so long ago.  “A little too great.”

Yami grinned.  “Maybe.  But it’ll hold me till I can hold you again.”

“Same.” Teris smiled.

“You be careful out there, Princess.  You have more to look out for than Diamond Kingdom Magic Warriors.”

She pulled her head back and looked up at him.  “You too.  Don’t do anything stupid, Sukehiro.”

Yami smirked at her calling him by his proper given name.  It had been so long that it sounded weird to his ears.  “No guarantees.  Though I promise I’ll return to you.  I’ll always return to you, Ikigai.”

“I’m holding you to that.”  Teris said, not willing to waste precious time asking him what the foreign word he continually called her but refused to translate meant.

Yami caressed her cheek taking in every detail of her beautiful, beloved face.  “Things get really bad out there you light travel and leave those royal brats behind.  You hear me.”

“Yami.” There was no way she would ever do such a thing and he knew it.

“Fine. Then promise me not to turn to that blasted History of Chaos till this mess is over.  All of that stops until this mess is over and your back where you belong, with me.”

“You think the Agents of Chaos will be kind enough to stop while we fight?”  Teris challenge.

Yami quickly tightened and loosened his hold around her waist, jerking her slightly.  “I’m not talking about those lunatics.  I’m talking about you.”

“Kiss me.”  Teris breathed, leaning into him.  Her face tilted up, offering herself to him.

Yami growled and straightened out of the reach of her lips.  He knew her too well to give into his desire and obey her wish before getting her word.  “Promise me.”

“Fine. I won’t turn to the History of Chaos.  Not that I’ll have the time.”  She muttered.  “But I can’t promise that I’ll stop thinking about it all.  I can’t control where my mind goes.”

“You’ll have little time for thinking on any that as well.”  Greywright said, standing at the mouth of the back hallway.  “I’m gathering you overheard enough to know what’s going on.  Teris.  Go on up and get your things.  Quickly now.”

Yami gave another low growl at the interruption.  He pulled her closer, giving her the kiss she had asked for, if not somewhat rougher than she had expected.

The Magic Knights Commander kindly averted his gaze.

Tobin sat up, smiling as he watched and encouraged.  “Get it.”

Without breaking the kiss, Yami threw his friend a two fingered salute.  He gave Teris’ lower lip a parting, plucking nibble and stepped back leaving them both breathless and wanting.  As badly as he wanted more, he would have to leave it at that.

A gateway opened along one of the great rooms walls.  Bronn entered. Seeing the Magic Knights Commander, he scowled.

“Teris. Upstairs.  Pack light and quickly.”  Greywright commanded.

Though Teris didn’t want to obey, her upbringing and training as a Magic Knight made her hurry to comply.  Yami moved to follow.

Greywright snapped his fingers at him and ordered.  “You stay.”

Yami stopped but scowled at him in much the same way Bronn was. Greywright huffed.  As different as the two men were, they were so very similar in many instances.  It was little wonder why they didn’t get along.

Bronn sauntered over to the Knights Commander.  “What are you doing here ordering us about?  Why’d you tell Black Sheep to pack?  We’re not headed out for another two days.”

Not in the mood to deal with the Jax’s surly Vice Captain, Greywright called for the Black Bulls Captain.  “Jax!”

“And now you’re barking at my Captain?  As Magic Knights Commander don’t you have more important things to do than hang around here bossing us around?”  Bronn demanded.

I certainly have more important things to do than putting you in your place, Greywright thought.  Difficult as Bronn had become, the Commander would’ve done so and seen Bronn dishonorably discharged if the man acted against him.  But with the start of a war, they needed every Magic Knight they had.

“Jax!” Greywright yelled again.  “If you want to keep your Vice Captain I suggest you quit pretending you don’t hear me and get out here. Now!”

Jax came bounding down the hall and skidded to a halt.  Seeing Bronn, he jerked his head at him.  “Hey.  Thought I gave you half an hour.”

“So I took a bit longer.”  Bronn shrugged.

“There’s been a development.  Come to my office.”  Jax beckoned, turning back the way he had come.

“Why’s Black Sheep upstairs packing?”  Bronn asked, eyes sliding to Greywright.  He never saw the block of stone that flew from the wall, launched by Jax’s magic.

Bronn fell to the floor, knocked out cold.

Greywright spun around to face the Black Bulls Captain, prepared for anything.

Jax massaged one hand with the other as if he had physically hit the Vice Captain.  Seeing Greywright’s expression, his hands lowered to his sides.  “What?  Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to do that.”

“I have.”  Yami admitted.

Tobin nodded his agreement.

Still staring at the Captain, Greywright lifted a censuring eyebrow.

Jax bristled and defended.  “You obviously didn’t have a better idea else you wouldn’t have called me to handle it.”  

“I could've done that.”  Greywright remarked.

“No you couldn’t.  Your Knights Commander.  You gotta rise above and all that.  Besides, I know Bronn better than anyone.  He was looking for a fight.  It was the only way.  I’ll deal with him when he wakes.  But you and Teris best be out of here by the time that happens unless you want two bumps on his head.”  Jax looked around. “Where is she?”

“Right here.”  Teris said, descending the stairs, Venice and Bran following.

“I don’t like this Captain.”  Venice said, upon seeing Jax.  “She’s a Black Bull.  She belongs with us.”

“The Bulls won’t all be together out there anyway.”  Jax said, thinking the same.

“Even so.”  Venice argued.

Greywright looked between them.  It was no wonder Bronn had become as difficult to manage as he had when Jax let the rest of his squad bicker back like that.  They were at war.  Did none of them understand that?  If there was anytime to listen and obey without question, it was now.

“Teris and Yami are stronger together.”  Bran said.  “Even if they can’t restore each others mana levels.  They can combine their mana to be a force if need be.”

Jax glanced at Greywright.  “Such arguments have already been made ad nauseam.”

Having sympathy on them, Greywright explained.  “Given the restlessness of their mana which stops them from even attempting to feed off and boost the others, I highly doubt such a combination of magic could be controlled.  Who knows the scale of destruction such an attempt would cause.”

Yami stared at the Commander.  Teris looked away as if it were all her fault.

“Is that what you’re taking her?”  Bran asked.

“Bran.” Teris tried to silence him before he got in trouble.

“Cause you don’t trust them to be able to control all that?”  Bran persisted.

“You don’t question orders.  Your only concern is following them.” Greywright said, ire rising for a moment.  Damn these Bulls.  Who the hell did they think they were?  He saw the worry in all of their eyes; even Yami’s, as well hidden as it was.  It made him soften and tell.  “Separating them is for their safety as much as anything else.  That’s all you need to know.”

Bran looked from Teris to Yami and back.  “Can one of us go with her? I’d volunteer.”

Greywright huffed.  “I’ve humored you enough.  Teris.  Let’s go.”

66.5

Greywright used his teleportation charm to take Teris to the Silver Eagles base.

“Good luck.  Try not to get into too much trouble.”  The Knights Commander told her.

Teris looked back at him watching him use the charm once more, presumably to head back to Magic Knights Headquarters.  She turned back to the main entrance of the base she had previously been barred from. Entering, she was grateful to come across the Silver Eagles Vice Captain who was heading down the grand staircase.

Reaching the bottom, Kess turned and headed down a hall, beckoning.  “This way.”

Teris was led to the entrance of the east wing and left alone.  Having never been in that portion of the base, she looked about walking slowly.  It was then that she realized it was more than glitz, room size, and furnishings that differed the Silver Eagles base from that of the Black Bulls.  It was the sheer size of the main building as a whole.

“Hello?” Teris called, hating that she felt so unsure of herself and that it sounded in her voice.  “Leon?  Nozel?”  She heard footsteps and was surprised to see Randall, Fuegoleon’s friend and fellow Crimson Lion.

“It’s about time.  They want your input.  Leave your things there.  One of the house staff will take them to your quarters.”  Randall told.

Teris lowered her single bag and made her way down the hall to him.

“You pack light.  You realize you won’t be going back to your base, right?”  Randall remarked.

“You realize we’re going to war, right?”  Teris quipped.

Randall tilted his head as he lead the way.

“They got you too huh?”  Teris grumbled.

Randall turned his eyes on her as she pulled beside him.  “You don’t sound overly pleased by it.  Don’t you see this is a chance for us to prove ourselves?”

Teris huffed.  “At best, we all survive and learn a lot of hard, hands on lessons on why coming up through the ranks is the best and proven method for success.”

“You have that little faith in your Intended?”

“He’s not my Intended!”

“Only, he is.”  Randall said.

Teris scowled at him.

The Crimson Lion looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  “Don’t you go trying to manipulate or get any special treatment from the Captain because your his--”

“If you say Intended one more time you’ll be spending the war in a recovery room at Healers Halls.”  Teris growled.

Randall turned his eyes forward and didn’t say another word.

They entered a meeting room.  Nozel sat at the head of the table looking every bit a Magic Knights Captain.  The sight both relieved and annoyed Teris to no end.  Seated in the Vice Captain's position, to Nozel’s right, was Fuegoleon.

Her cousin turned to her.  “I hope you brought whatever you require to stay and head out from here.”

“Why me?”  Teris asked, staring at Nozel.

“I think a single small pack isn’t much.  But she seemed sure it was all she needed.”  Randall reported, taking his previous seat to the left of Nozel.

“Teris is like Leona in that.  They don’t require much and have a way of packing a surprising amount in a small space.”  Fuegoleon told Randall.

“Is no one going to answer me?”  Teris demanded.

Without looking up from the files his was examining, Nozel informed.  “You and Randall were easy picks.  I spoke with Pyter and Mereoleona about my choice of the two of you and they both agreed.”

“It’s Pyter and Mereoleona now, is it?”  Teris asked, looking for anything to add to her list of grievances.  “You sure took to this temporary position rather quickly.  Probably going to be difficult--”

“I’d choose your next words to the Captain with care.”  Fuegoleon warned.

Teris turned to her cousin barely believing all this.  “Leon--”

“Vice Captain.”  Fuegoleon corrected.

“I see.”  Teris said, icily.

Nozel finally lifted his eyes to her.  “No, Senior Magic Knight.  You do not.  Nor do I care if you do.  All I require from you is to respect my authority and obey my orders.”

Teris glared, thinking how he must be enjoying this.  Acting as Captain. Holding himself above others.  Even if it was only to be a team of four.

“Now sit down and assist us in picking the final member of my squad.” Nozel ordered.  He saw her mouth open and cut off the name he was sure she was about to offer.  “Every member of the Black Bulls has already been rejected.”

Teris’ mouth snapped shut, frown deepening.  She doubted any of the Bulls had even been considered.  Pulling out a chair she sat further down the table, a space away from Randall.  Fuegoleon lifted an eyebrow at the childish antic.

Nozel released a slow, steady breath.  No doubt Teris would prove difficult again.  Being difficult sadly seemed to be part of her nature.  But at least the hardest part was out of the way.  He was grateful that it had gone down so quick and easy.

Nozel turned his eyes back on her.  "Before we go over our narrowed list, I'd like to hear if you have any suggestions."

Teris blinked.  She never would have thought Nozel would hear out anyone's consideration, least of all hers.  Especially when it came to adding a name to the short list for the teams final member.

She thought a moment, annoyed that the acting Captain had already taken out the first four to five suggestions she would have immediately made.  Yami, Bran, Venice, Tobin.  Considering where they were going, Gendry would have been a good option as well what with the wealth of raw metal beneath the barren land of the Diamond Kingdom.  It wasn't just because these people were her trusted friends.  They were fighters.  At least Yami, Venice, and Tobin were.  In any case, it didn't matter.  Naming one of them when Nozel had just said ever member of the Bulls had been rejected would only cause further problems.  They were facing enough trails without her adding to the mix.

"Zara Ideale."  Teris finally said.

"The peasant from the Purple Orcas?"  Randall questioned, an amused, disbelieving lit to his voice.

"One of the nine left standing during the Squad Challenge.  Teris reminded, eyes trained on Nozel.

Nozel sighed.  He should have known Teris would pick some low bred commoner.  His cool blue eyes slid to Fuegoleon.  The Vice Captain shook his head, thinking Teris was just being difficult.

"Seriously? Did no one consider him?"  Teris asked, in mild surprise.

"He's been a Magic Knight for how long?"  Randall questioned.

Fuegoleon pulled the mans record from the pile of discards that hadn't even been looked at, and opened it up.  “Eight years.”  He answered as he continued to scan Zara’s file.

"Eight years."  Randall said, turning back to Teris.  "The man’s been a Magic Knight for eight years and was only just promoted to Third Class Intermediate because he was one of the nine left standing during the Squad Challenge.  And, I might add, is still a Third Class Intermediate Magic Knight nearly a year later.  Not to mention that he was one of the first of the nine out when the challenge continued."

Teris bit her tongue thinking it unproductive to mention that Randall hadn't been one of the nine left standing.  The Crimson Lion too caught up in a battle with some Coral Peacock that he landed in one of Captain Heath’s sonic traps, and all but took himself out. Instead she said.  "Considering how things work, I think the fact that Zara has risen that far quite telling."

"You're right."  Randall agreed.  "It’s telling of his supreme lacking."

Teris turned back to Nozel.  He was the one she needed to convince.  "We teamed with him during the challenge.  You saw what Zara was capable of.  I'd go so far as to say that if it weren't for Zara Ideale you and I may not have made it to be one of the nine."

Nozel’s eyes hardened, narrowing at such a suggestion.

Teris went on.  "He's a hard worker.  Loyal and trustworthy.  He’ll have no problems following your orders no matter the circumstance."

Fuegoleon sat forward.  "Anyone that does--"

Nozel held up a silencing hand.  "Continue."  He encouraged Teris.

The acting Captain had figured Teris would make a preposterous suggestion, which was why he had cut all the Black Bulls from contention and not just Yami Sukehiro.  But Teris wasn’t speaking with her heart.  She was being calm and reasonable.  Well, as reasonable as such a suggestion as Zara Ideale could be.

Teris glanced at her cousin before going on.  "Zara has a curious mix of ash and trap magic that will not only assist us greatly in battle but will see us protected at camp.  He has a way of looking and thinking about things that I know none of us would ever consider. Oh, and he knows his way around the Diamond Kingdom.  Its terrain, landmarks, and natural shelters."

"How do you know that?"  Fuegoleon asked, flipping through Zara’s surprisingly small file considering it contained eight years worth of service.  "Nothing in here says that."

"He told me."  Teris replied, eyes still on Nozel.  "His father ran with the caravans that haul raw ore from north of the Diamond Kingdom back to here."

"That's some dangerous work."  Randall commented, impressed.  "Did he do so as a smuggler or in service of the kingdom?"

"Since we don't acknowledge our involvement or funding of such endeavors does it matter?"  Teris asked.

"Yes." Fuegoleon said, righteously.  "It speaks to the mans character."

"Fine.” Teris all but rolled her eyes.  “He was working for the Clover Kingdom."  She didn’t see how Fuegoleon found it perfectly acceptable for such smugglers to be funded by the kingdom but a moral issue when they weren’t.

"Still don't see were Zara himself fits in.  Stories from his father won't serve us."  Randall said.

"Zara began making the trip with his father at age nine and continued doing so after his father's death, up until the point he became a Magic Knight."  Teris said, wondering what Nozel was thinking behind his cool, distant exterior.

Nozel held his hand out.  Fuegoleon passed Zara’s file over.

Eyes never leaving Teris, the Silver Eagle opened the mans paltry record and questioned.  "If none of this in Zara’s file.  How do you know of it?"

Teris returned her acting Captain's gaze and straightened her shoulders. "He told me."

"I don't recall him saying any of this during our time together in the challenge."  Nozel said, flipping through the service record, eyes flicking from the pages to Teris and back.

"We've had occasion to work together on a couple of missions since." Teris informed, and added.  "He's a friend."

"Of course he is."  Nozel muttered.  He scanned the final page and closed the folder.  Leave it to his Intended to befriend every low born person she met.

If it hadn’t been for the orders that had come in mere moments before Teris had arrived, Nozel would have dismissed Zara despite Teris’ well worded reasoning's.  But having received his orders.  Knowing that he and his squad wouldn’t be fighting at the line.  Zara Ideale’s knowledge of the Diamond Kingdoms terrain would prove invaluable, and might just save their lives.

Nozel looked at his Vice Captain seeing that Fuegoleon was thinking the same.  There was no need to discuss this one with his Captain or Mereoleona, Nozel thought.

Decided, Nozel ordered.  "Leon.  Inform Headquarters that I will be taking Zara Ideale of the Purple Orcas as the final member of my squad."

"Really!" Teris asked, unable to believe it.

Nozel turned back to her.  "He better be as familiar with the Diamond Kingdoms land as you’ve made his knowledge out to be."

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

"Careful Jax.  I've killed people for less."  Mereoleona warned, eyes igniting.

"His a spatial mage."

"Of that I'm aware.  And?"  Mereoleona’s lip twitched understanding dawning.  "You want Bronn with him case one of those other groups do show up to try and take Yami.  It won’t matter if Yami complies with an order to get out.  Bronn can simply send him away to safety."

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

Anyway, would you imagine the madness that would be the Civil War (2006) Event if it was released today?

Like...

1- There is a major explosion wiping out a suburban, white picked american town in the midwest, explosion started right next to a school, caused by a team of C List superheroes literally attacking a group of B list Supervillains, who were having a barbecue there for some reason, just to get more ratings on their reality show rather than any heroic duty. Many people die, mostly kids due to the school, and we see the bloody aftermath. Even the Sentinels, compared to burning crosses in terms of racial sensitivity by Wolverine, help out to fish out people from the debris.

2- Because of this, major Anti Superhero Sentiments start sprouting up in the country. One of the victims’ mother (A major player in the event believe it or not) spits on Tony Stark’s face. The Human Torch gets lynched by some black stereotypes because he was allowed to go into a exclusive nightclub with a white girl due to his celebrity status and they weren’t, major protests start going trough the nation, all demanding SOMETHING to be done against those pesky superheroes, As monuments are being torn down and what not, as ALL superheroes, as a social class, at fault for what has happened there during the explosion.

3- This brings us to the Government Regulation Thing, THE Superhero Registration Program. Maria Hill, who wasn’t a Skrull Chaos Agent and has never been (It’s important you remember this), announces to Captain America that the... senate? chamber? Anyway, someone is going to approve this new law (Which, you know, isn’t law yet btw) that will require all superheroes to have their Identity revealed to the public and become paid government workers. They get a pension and health insurance and insurance for any collateral damage they cause as long as they do what they are told and do not step out of line.

You know, Normal, TOTALLY not fascist shit.

4- Anyway, Cap obviously is outraged by this, for “How Long until it will be Washington that tells us who the real villain is” (Which is, you know, SUPER RELEVANT), and claims will never sign up for any of this, which Maria Hill, who, again, is not a Undercover Skrull Chaos Agent, knew he was going to say so she tries to arrest him for breaking a law that isn’t a law yet, unleashing plenty of armed guards and a couple of attack helicopters on him. She fails, he runs away, and the other superheroes are presented with a choice.

CONFORM OR BE HUNTED DOWN LIKE DOGS.

5- If you think this was bad prepare for the real bad shit to start now, because you have to keep in mind this:

The registration side are the supposed good guys here. They are what the narrative consider to be the one who win at the end, whose ideals were better than Captain Fucking America’s. Keep this in mind as you read this:

6- The Major 3 players of the Registration Side are Tony Stark, Mister Fantastic and Hank Pym.

6A- Tony Stark is a war criminal. He tries to stage a terrorist attack on Independent Nation Atlantis, using a “Mind Controlled” Norman Osborn (More on this later) to pull the trigger, so he could both kill Namor and start war with the underwater kingdom, whose Non Namor Rulers will surely try to get revenge against the surface for such happenings, sell weapons during the ensuing war, AND unite the divided superhero community against a common enemy, in this case, Atlantis.

Tony Stark is also responsible for the Supervillain Rehabilitation Program, which is taking willing and unwilling supervillains alike and putting bombs in their brains, ready to blow up at a sign of disobedience, so to use as enforcers for the registration side. Many of those villains have a kill count on the double digits. Many of those villains where later deployed in hunt down and capture missions of Superheroes who had defected, superheroes they all had a hate boner for and loved nothing more but to beat up and potentially kill/maim. One of the fucking Hobgoblins was among them. BULLSEYE WAS FUCKING AMONG THEM.

He manipulated Spider-Man into revealing his identity to the world, something that caused major Bullshit to everyone involved, for, once Spider-Man realized what kind of bullshit he had signed up for and decided to go rogue, Tony first hacks the stark patented supersuit he gave him as a gift so it malfunctions, then sends 2 bloodthirsty supervillains armed to the teeth with explosives and with bombs in their brain to capture him and rough him up a little, then removes peter’s wife and aunt from the family protection/hostage program, which forces them to hide out in a crappy motel in fear that one day a supervillain discovers where they are and bombs them, which guess what is what fucking happens in the end since a sniper finds out they are there and shoots Aunt May, which is what ultimately leads to the worst story in comic book history ONE MORE (FUCKING) DAY.

6B- Reed “Mister Fantastic” Richards is presented by the narrative as emotionally distant and abusive to his wife. He will, with the help of Tony Stark and Hank Pym, create a mechanical clone of Thor, who was absent from earth at the time, with the sole purpose of crowd control and dispersion in the event of a superhero vs superhero fight.

Lethal Force is apparently authorized and approved, for The first mission he is deployed in, Clone-Thor, the clone of a bloody Norse god, ends up Killing Black Goliath, a black superhero, something not contested, in fact almost condoned by the narrative and the registration side, and both the reason why Spider-Man defects and a Hydra Scientist (Oh, yeah, they also conscript Hydra Scientists in the thing so tho create more bio weapons and shit) finds the reason why he considers those three his favorite superheroes.

Also Reed Richards is a McCarthy apologist. He talks about this one uncle of his, a artist, who was considered a communist and was put on trials for having left leaning, liberal views/just being a plain weird artist (I think he was also gay coded?), and he says how he mocked the question and the absurdity of the whole situation in particular and McCarthyism in general, which ultimately blacklists him from work and makes him die alone and without money, so Reed Fucking Richards of course said that the moral of that story is that “My uncle was wrong, If there is a law that might seem unjust, you shouldn’t be down to clown but you should just shut your mouth and keep going.”

The Fucker.

6C- Hank Pym starts a fucking child soldiers conscription program. Teen Superheroes discovered by shield will be captured and separated from their families, Identical Robotic Decoys put in their place to prevent the families from finding out, and will be conscripted into the registration program as child soldiers.

They will be given a usa army approved regiment of training, and will be soon deployed on real, life or death missions, either involving the capture of rogue superheroes or fighting “enemy” forces such as AIM or HYDRA, what the government seems more fit to fight at the time.

The Kids, for ages seemed to vary from 15 to 19, will be trained and encouraged to kill, especially if faced with faceless hydra goons as they blast down their aircraft in a dog fight in the skies. This will of course scar and traumatize the, again, 15 years old government sanctioned child FUCKING soldiers, but not as much as the alternative to this.

For, as it is shown, failure to comply with orders, as well as emotional instability due to being, you know, a 16 years old girl in stressful situations such as, you know, a guy turning into a giant spider in front of you, will cause the government to “terminate” your employment under them, which will result in them forcibly taking away your powers, most of whom you were born with, with invasive, unwilling, non sedated surgery on you, as it happens to a girl whose arm is a literal magic gun who had her, you know, magic arm cut off after she accidentally misfired and kills another of the kids watching from the, you know, not that safe watching room not even a glass mirror away from the training room.

No wonder the girl whose superpower is literally just “can make pretty clouds with her mind” is so eager to kill as many people the government as her to after being conscripted while she was just flying around on her cloud and has to witness... you know, all of this shit.

6C- Maria Hill, Director of Shield and, again, not a fucking Skrull Chaos Agent, starts hunting down unregistered superheroes. Any superhero that didn’t sign up the registration list at least on the exact midnight of the day the law is made law, will be hunted down and forcibly imprisoned without a due process.

This happens to Luke Cage, who, again, on the exact midnight the law is enforced, not a minute more, had his apartment swarmed up with cops in tactical gear ready to “arrest him” despite him doing nothing yet, all the while shooting around the, you know, predominantly black neighbor like they are the Simpsons’ Texan guy. His wife and newborn daughter are also hunted down, the two fleeing to Canada, a safe heaven for superheroes and their families in this time of crisis, for undefended families of superheroes become leverage the registration side can use against them to make them sign up, for at some point a superhero must have revealed his identity to another superhero, another superhero that will statistically be either on the registration side snitching on you, or, you know, a Undercover Skrull Chaos Agent, if not both.

Captured heroes are shipped off to a private prison owned by Tony Stark and his goons in the Negative Zone (Think hell, but more depressing), where they will be interned without, again, any semblance of due process, and will be fucking kept in torture pod of virtual reality for the entirety of their stay. They will not be allowed any contact with the other inmates, or even to feed, relieve or just wash themselves, everything will be done by the pods, so that they will be in eternal, perfect imprisonment until they “see the error of their ways”.

Somewhat worse than the Barry Allen’s private prison in the Flash, if only by just a little.

Some brain washing was also implied to happen.

7- Cap’s Side is, of course, against all of this, yet it will be Cap’s side to lose the civil war, for , when Captain America is pummeling Tony to the ground for everything that has been going on in the middle of a devastated time square, some REAL WORLD HEROES (You know, a cop, a nurse, a fireman, and so on), tackle Steve to the ground, blame HIM for everything wrong that has happened, and ask him to stop in his futile resistance.

Statistically Speaking, at least 2 of those people were a Skrull Chaos Agents BTW.

Steve “sees the error of his ways,” surrenders to the police, is about to be given a sham process (He gets one but fucking daredevil, a lawyer, doesn’t as he’s shipped off to Tony’s Hell Prison? I guess there is a upside on getting arrested by the program in front of witnesses that you cannot all silence) until Sharon Carter shoots him on the steps to the courtroom because he was being mind controlled by a undercover hydra hypnotist that might or might have not been conscripted by the “let’s conscript supervillain scientists in the registration program, WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?” thing.

8- Also Hawkeye comes back to life for a bit and is immediately almost manipulated by Tony into taking the Captain America’s role after Steve's death, except this time working for the registration side against his friends, which he ALMOST accepts because he doesn't know what the fuck is going on yet but he trusts tony until he meets Hawkeye (The girl one) and Patriot during his first mission as Registration Cap who tell him “Duuuuude, Steve’s body isn’t even cold yet, what the fuck” which makes him go “Holy shit Tony, what the fuck?” and make him decide to abandon the shield and shit and lay low for a while.

9- Oh, yeah, also this happens:

(Recognize that journalist? Is the same journalist that gives Hydra Cap a interview about how inhumane Hydra was during their regime, the one he sends to the labor camps and mocks with “I’m sure you can complain about it on Twitter later.” That wasn’t just a dig at the (Justified, oh so justified) detractors of Hydra Cap on social medias, but also a dig at THIS. FUCKING. SCENE. THAT WILL LIVE IN INFAMY FOR ALL DAY TO COME, FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA IS OUT OF TOUCH WITH THE REAL AMERICA BECAUSE HE DOESN'T USE MY FUCKING SPACE).

10- What else what else... Oh, yeah, everyone favorite absolute monarch T’challa, King of Wakanda and Black Panther, married with X-Men’s Storm at the time, X-Man that, btw, have been pretty much neutral during this whole shitstorm due to, you know, the “genocide” they recently suffered by the hands and mystical powers of one Wanda Maximoff, both of whom have diplomatic immunity due to the, you know, status as the rulers of a hyper advanced nation who holds the cure for cancer among other things, has his wife taken hostage by the united states. They go to the united states on a joint diplomatic mission, and are promptly ambushed and kept grounded in the states, separated from each other, until at least Ororo signs the registration program, T’challa having to follow closely behind, and then they will be allowed to be let go.

Again, I can’t stress this enough, The United States try to strong arm 2 foreign rulers, one of whom a mutant, into signing up a domestic policy about domestic internal affairs of public security.

Because of course they do.

10- I think I forgot some minor shit happening like speedball’s entire arc or Wolverine’s revenge plan or the Latverian Caper, but I think the gist of WHY this bullshit would have blown up today is all here.

For you see, now, imagine all this shit all the implications, the crimes, the horrors and stuff...

Just Imagine, all this shit is going on... with a Secret Invasion of Skrull Chaos Agent coming soon to shake thing even more...

And the president of the united states, the one that, again, ultimately will decide who the REAL enemy is, where the real supervillain to fight is...

Is Donald Fucking Trump.

How long until the superhero child soldiers are tasked to guard the border I wonder...

[oldtvandcomics]

MY OPINION ABOUT ENDGAME

I’ve written this nice long YouTube comment about Endgame, and it contains pretty much everything that I think about that movie, so I’m just going to copypaste it here. Because of the subject of the video, a lot is about Steve/Bucky not becoming canon and what happened instead.

Spoilers after the break.

Ok, I don't care, I have OPINIONS and need to share them somewhere.

1) Stucky was never going to be canon and I think most of us are adult enough to admit that. HOWEVER what the movie did in general felt as if it would ignore everything we know about Steve, Bucky and Peggy.

- Did they keep Steve and Bucky apart? Totally.

- Steve ending up with Peggy. Would have been nice, IF that was where they had been going since 2011. It is not. They had a movie together where they have some flirting going on (a lot less than other superhero love stories, if you ask me, but shipping googles, don't ask me). After that, Peggy got an entire season about mourning Steve and slowly accepting his death, and a second where she started dating again, and Steve two plus movies where his motivation was mostly "OMG, Bucky is alive" and "I need to protect Bucky". THEY BOTH MOVED ON. This felt like a last minute "let's do something that gets Steve out of the way and will count as a happy ending".

- Steve living in the past. Ok, ok, ok, this is a BIG one for me. As many others have pointed out, he is now in a time where he full well knows Bucky is being held prisoner and tortured, and it's either letting it happen or key points in history will change. He is also watching SHIELD being founded and recruiting former HYDRA agents, as consequence of which PEOPLE WILL DIE, and Steve knows that, because HE'S BEEN THERE. Is he just going to sit there and let it happen??

Also, if we are already at it: Imagine the following scenario. It is the early 50s and Steve Rogers has just returned from the future (2023, right?) to spend the rest of his days with the love of his life, Peggy. Segregation is still a thing. Residential schools are still a thing. Women don't have the same rights as men. Queer people don't have any rights, period. Disabled and mentally ill people are being constantly mistreated, part out of ableism and part out of genuine ignorance in the medical field. The US is in cold war with the Soviet Union, and both sides do stuff that are not ok, and also highly classified. Steve, having lived in the future knows about them because it's history. Should I continue?

We normal people would maybe play the well-behaved time traveller and sit around waiting for history to happen, BUT NOT STEVE ROGERS. He is famous, and very influential because of his status as Captain America, and he has got a significantly smaller tolerance for bullsh*t than the other people in his time, because he has seen a world that is more accepting. He is going to try to fight everything at once. This is going to be chaos.

- Finally, and I haven't seen this pointed out yet, but HOWARD. Steve just returned to a time when Howard Stark was still the Howard Stark we know from The First Avenger and Agent Carter. A little weird and egocentric and visibly ND, but all in all a nice guy. I don't even know where to start with how much chaos this is going to cause. The memory of Steve Rogers has been a driving force behind Howard's entire life. Having him actually BE there will 1) prevent him from idolising him, and 2) Steve will be able to say little things to him like "Howard, you really have got a nice son there, maybe you could spend some more time with him?". Will Tony without his abusive childhood still become Iron Man? I think so, yes. Will it still completely change who he is as a person? Also yes...? Don't even mention that Steve perfectly knows how Howard and his wife are going to die, namely assassinated by Bucky, because...

(Also, remember Agent Carter season 1 when Howard openly told Peggy tat he'd been in love with Steve? Yeah, that is going to be a fun discussion when they announce their engagement. Seriously, someone should write it.)

Conclusion: While I understand how the idea of Steve returning to Peggy might have sounded good on paper, the writers just didn't think it through and as a consequence, it feels rushed and as if they'd just butchered not only one, but at least three or four of our beloved characters and their story arcs.

2) My opinion about Endgame was that it was nice. But definitely not good or something I'd want to rewatch anytime soon.

- It bit off more than it can chew. One movie to close off six character arcs is not enough by far. They should have made at least three. One for Steve and Tony, one for Clint and Natasha, and one for Bruce and Thor.

  -> Tony's character arc was the one I was almost completely happy with. Minus the Pepper wearing the suit bit, which I feel should have been a big emotional moment but instead was just kind of there and came a little out of nowhere. Steve, see above, would have needed either a different ending or a whole lot more thought in it.

  -> Clint becoming a pretty terrible serial killer was just somehow never dealt with?? Because THAT? That would have needed a complete movie to make sense and to give him time to actually redeem himself. Natasha... Redemption equals death. I'm not a fan of that trope, especially because she already seemed to have redeemed herself at that point? She didn't need to die? Also, fine, I get why it could make sense, but killing off the one female protagonist these movies had for quite some time feels really, really... It makes me feel cheated. Given more time, they could have developed the whole arc better.

  ->Bruce making peace with the Hulk IS exactly what should have happened to him. HOWEVER, it all happened in that short moment when the screen was black and read "five years later". That is... Not what I'd call good character development. Again, this would have needed TIME. Give him a movie. Combine his story with that of Thor. Could have been great.

  -> Thor. This is the one that makes me just ANGRY, so I'm giving it it's own bullet point. Look, what happened to him completely makes sense. It also feels as if the movie hadn't taken him and his pain seriously. Like that scene in his cabin, that was totally played for laughs, and after that, they just didn't give him enough time. And I get it, there WAS NO TIME. There was just too much going on.

But people, alcoholism and PTSD are SERIOUS subjects, and if you want them there, you need to commit to write them properly. Marvel can do that, as they have proven with their Demon In A Bottle storyline, Iron Man 3 or The Incredible Hulk episode Alice In Discoland. But these are all separate stories that revolve around these themes. There is no way someone could manage a nuanced and sensitive representation in an ensemble movie that also juggles at least eight other characters and aims to close off eleven years worth of movies. There is just not enough time.

So what they should have done instead: Either make Endgame three movies, and give Thor and Bruce one where they can support each other while dealing with his trauma and the Hulk, or just leave out the entire arc. Thor's arc was finished in Thor: Ragnarok. He became king, learned to accept that his father had done many bad things and made peace with Loki. They should have left it there and only used him to drive the action forward instead of trying to have him evolve in any direction.

(In this version, the massacre at the beginning of Infinity War shouldn't have happened. Give them some more time to arrive on Earth, and than call Thor and Bruce away to fight Thanos while Loki is benched because the Asgardians need an acting king. Thor behaves more or less the way he did in Ragnarok, goes on his quest to get the axe, and Endgame is just plain different.)

- While I do enjoy a good "everything is bad AU", Endgame didn't make it work. Probably because they messed up the characters part.

- Nice call backs, though. Especially the one when they redid the Star Lord dancing in the cave scene, and than cut to Rhodey and Nebula watching him looking like a complete idiot. :D I really liked that one.

- Good action scenes. The end fight when all the dusted heroes came out of the portal and they were these dark silhouettes with a bright light behind their backs! Wheeeeeeeeeeee!!!

Conclusion: Nice movie. Not a fan. Only half achieved what it set out to do.

[ateloautoatychi]

Bye Bitch, I Won’t Miss You

So, it hasn’t even been 4 hours since I made this thing, and I already need to dump shit out of my brain. Still feels kinda awkward, but I’m pretty sure that will eventually go away.

I was just watching this cari cakes video (she’s amazing, love her travel vlogs) and she was talking about 2020 ending and her highs and lows, and I had to turn it off because I felt like I would end up spiraling. Not that it did anything, since I’m now word vomiting out the spiraling I could have just kept in my head. She was talking about how this year was just straight up weird: it felt so long but short, how so much yet so little has happened, and how things have changed but also stayed the same. It just made me think of my 2020. 

Honestly, thinking about it felt so sad, because this was supposed to be my year. I started this year with literally 5 months left of my senior year of high school. My biggest worries were finishing my research and getting into the 2 colleges I applied to, and the next 2 months were spent worrying about just that. By the first week of March, I had gotten into my top university choice, taken my supposedly 2nd to the last exams as a high school student, and I had gone through my research defense. I remembered thinking that I just needed to survive ‘til April, and I would be free for a month to just hang out with my boyfriend and my friends and just waste away the last month of high school. Of course, that didn’t happen. We were sent home a few days after my research defense. I had a suspicion that it would be my last day in school, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. I didn’t say good bye to my classmates and friends properly, and I had to jokingly tell my boyfriend that he needed to hug me properly because we didn’t know when we would be able to hug each other again. I knew that since the coronavirus was discovered in China I was joking about shutting down school and ending my misery, but I regret that so much now. What started out as a weeklong break for them to disinfect the school ended up with the announcement that we weren’t coming back. I didn’t even find this out in a way I would have preferred: I had woken up to so many notifications and they all ended up being messages sent the night before about us never coming back. 

I then spent the next 3 months being sad and working on my final research paper on and off. Our teachers had let us forgo doing any work regarding all subjects that weren’t research, so research was my only problem at the time. Well, it was supposedly my only problem then. I had been dealing with so many emotions. I was so angry that I didn’t even get to spend the best part of senior year. I didn’t really know what I would have done with that time, but I was sure that it would have been better than anything I ended up doing. I also had to come back home and live with my parents 24/7. I had only stayed during weekends for the last 6 years so it was such a huge culture shock for me to be here everyday. I lost my independence and I was trapped with my verbally abusive father. The fact that I didn’t know my own family anymore was terrible, but knowing that I couldn’t see my friends instead or just leave the house for a while made it 10 times worse. 

Besides that, I was also preparing to enroll into university. Around May I had to start preparing for my enrollment, which was just such a mindfuck because I hadn’t even finished my high school research yet. I wasn’t cleared graduate but I already had to reserve a slot for my course. I was so overwhelmed because nothing was going according to how I imagined it. I had struggled so much in high school, and I couldn’t believe that this was how it was going to end. 

I got to visit my high school one last time by the end of June. I wasn’t allowed inside though, so I was only able to take pictures outside the gate. By the time my dad got my grades and the medal I was supposed to receive at the end of the year and gave them to me inside the car, I started bawling my eyes out. What else could I have done in that moment? My final moments as a high school student were a world away from how they were supposed to happen. 

(So I have started crying, but I’m pretty sure that writing this all down and releasing this from my brain will help, so I will continue) 

July was hazy, but I guess the most memorable part was just the talks and preparations for the online graduation they had planned in August. I think I was also starting to talk to my blockmates more often (we had started looking for each other in May, and I guess I just wanted to make friends so I tried to be active). 

The biggest changes in my life thus far were all in August, and they all happened inside our house. I spent the first 2 weeks preparing for graduation. By the day of graduation, I couldn’t watch it live because the Wi-Fi was so slow. I was so upset I threw a fit. I couldn’t take it anymore. Nothing had gone the way they were supposed to go, and the one thing I wanted more than ever to have didn’t happen. I wasn’t able to take a graduation photo with the graduation cap and gown, I wasn’t able to finish high school, I missed my friends so much, and then this too had to fail me. All my friends were live messaging and congratulating people as they were watching it, and I was missing out. I was missing out on the last bit of my high school life. My dad threw a fit too, I guess he didn’t want to get upstaged. The scene he caused was my tipping point that day. I took a nap because I was so upset. I think we watched it that night but my dad had an attitude at the time and I was so out of it, so I had so little of the attachment I expected to have while watching it. 

4 days after graduation, I had my first day of college. I was still reeling from graduation but I already had to dive in. Within days of starting I had my first meltdown: we had slow Wi-Fi, and I was left to just watch my frozen screen and choppy audio. I ended up leaving the class to take a nap to stop myself from crying. Countless issues with similar concerns followed. 

The first half of the semester was a train wreck. I had walked in hoping that the suffering I endured in high school would give me an edge in college. Of course, I was wrong. Honestly, I just wanted a break. I didn’t know that the suffering would continue. I didn’t know how to study then. I was procrastinating my studying, because I knew that I could go through the lectures at a later time. I hated my professors because they expected me to know everything before they even taught anything. (This literally does not make sense I could go on such a long rant about this) I guess my favorite moments of that half of the semester were when I was joking around with my blockmates about how sleepy I was during one subject and when my friends straight up told the professor that the reason why I couldn’t answer him was because I was on the toilet. (I mean it was true, but they could have thought up a better excuse.) 

I almost broke up with my boyfriend during this time too. We were both so overwhelmed with school and life. I was hurting everyday because it felt like we weren’t even talking anymore. I guess I was also comparing this time to high school and I was hoping that we could still pull off our relationship like how we did then. (I mean, at that time it was also pretty rocky because he was so busy.) I was selfish and wanted him to pay more attention to me. He was so disappointed in himself and decided that he wasn’t fit to be with me. We patched things up but I still cry whenever I think about it for long. You can say I’m overreacting, but I experienced the worst pain I had ever felt on that day.

The finals half of the semester was pretty bad too. With the double-whammy-back-to-back typhoons, the university made some interesting changes to the curriculum that actually just made the whole thing worse. While I tried so much harder during this half, I didn’t actually feel the effects because the situation was also just harder this time around. The Wi-Fi also just REFUSED to cooperate with me during finals period. I had 2 exams where I had issues with the internet, not to mention all the other times I was scared out of my wits that my professor would call me during a time that I had no internet (she doesn’t believe those types of things). During finals, I had a fiasco with my exam because the Wi-Fi was slow. At that point I had Truly had enough. I had studied so hard for that exam, and I was so scared that I would get a zero. I ended up being able to take that exam, but I had to take it back to back with the next final I had. Not a good time but I ended up surviving both. 

The last 2 weeks were uneventful, but my dad has been choosing chaos over the past few days, and yesterday he just exploded again. I don’t think the things he said yesterday were the worst things he had ever said, but they still hurt. Pretty sure he just implied that I’m using my mental health as an excuse, and that he is so sick and tired of the fact he can’t scold me because I would end up killing myself. I love how he couldn’t hold it in until 2021 but then again time is irrelevant he is setting such a great example of this concept! I spent most of yesterday thinking that I would like my parents to have formal diagnosis of their own mental illnesses because I’m pretty sure they both have issues. At this point I don’t really need them to get better I just need closure that they too are also fucked up in the head. My mother’s whole personality depends on every surface in the house being clean enough to eat on and her obsession with accomplishing things, and my father is just a verbally abusive narcissist who knows how to target someone’s innermost being. I know they both act like the other person is worse, but I think that they are both messed up (my mother because of my father) and that they need to own up to the fact that their children are fucked up because of them. 

Did I mention that I haven’t seen my boyfriend throughout the shitstorm we’ve had since March? I miss him so much. 

So yeah, that was my 2020. This post just exposed that I couldn’t move on from everything that didn’t happen the right way. I would argue that there was nothing else I could do, but considering that the whole of 2021 will probably just look the same, I need to do something about it so that I don’t off myself. I definitely will not be making solid new year’s resolutions for 2021, but in general I just want to learn how to roll with the punches and accept the unknown. Honestly, I just want to make sure I reach the end of 2021, considering that I didn’t think I would make it to the end of 2020. I just hope that I have the people and things that I love until the end of the new year, and that I can do whatever I need to survive. 

Hello to 2021, I guess. Please be, at the very least, a little kinder than 2020. 

[askauradonprep]

A Pirate’s Life For Me

So, the Hooks kinda blew through the competition in the family dynamics vote. I’m not super surprised tbh. The Hook family is very popular, as evidenced by the plethora of head canon requests I’ve got, the 26 requests in my ask box for Harry (plus a couple for CJ) and the asks I got for Hook during our “Parent questions” theme day. The Hooks, and Harry in particular, seems to have become quite the fandom magnet. So here is the head canon post as promised. 

Under a read more for some seriously unhealthy and abusive dynamics. Some of this gets DARK. Also because this is going to be very long. Content warnings for abuse, graphic and blunt mentions of death and violence, one mention of suicidal thoughts, and mentions of Frollo being creepy (but not graphic and he doesn’t actually physically harm anyone).

Captain James Hook

- Hook drinks more than he used to because of the conditions on the Isle - not just because it’s miserable, but because wine is often cleaner than water. That’s done wonders for his temper, as I’m sure you can imagine - he’s volatile, vengeful and violent as ever. 

- When Hook was in a good mood, he’d send a drink to their table and drink with the crew. They’d sing sea shanties and pirate songs. Harriet was maybe six her first time and the other two were both like 8 when he first did it. 

- He has his kids call him ‘Captain’ to his face. He doesn’t like being called dad. 

- He’s very controlling? Like, his kids are not going anywhere permanently. He needs them around to help with the shop and they can leave when he says. 

- Don’t give him the idea his kids are disloyal. There will be hell to pay. He’s big on ‘crew’ - it’s not like having allies, who team up while the getting is good. Crew’s have agreed to band together and watch each other’s backs. You’re on his ship, you’re crew, KIDS. And if you are disloyal......eek.

- How good of a parent Hook is drastically depends on whether he’s in a good mood, a neutral mood, or a bad mood. When he’s in a good mood, he’ll move heaven and earth for his kids, as much as a villain can anyways. 

- And when he’s in a bad mood (which is most days) he is actively dangerous for his kids to be around because he’s violent, has volatile moods and he’s a drinker. When he’s feeling neutral, he just…..meh. He probably won’t hurt his kids but he won’t go out of his way to interact with them either.

- Although, one constant is that he’s a protective dad - either because you’re messing with his kids (good mood) or because by messing with his kids, you’re messing with him (neutral and bad mood). This seems to have carried on to his kids - no matter how mad they were or how much they wanted to avoid each other, if you harm or threaten one of their siblings, they will make you regret it. Assuming they get to you before you stare down the barrel of a gun held by Hook. 

- He’s set himself up as a role model, getting the kids to emulate him to an extent, while also frightening them with his mood swings, explosive anger, threats, locking them in either their room or the brig, and violent lashing out. He also has a nasty habit of playing them against each other and violently controlling them, especially if they try to leave.

- He’s not worried about coercing his kids into his feuds or fights. It’s fine, he’ll be there to shoot anything hurting them if something goes wrong, but they’re going to fight for him dammit. He’s hardly above emotional blackmail or loopholes in deals. 

Hook’s wife

- Died in childbirth. According to Harriet, ‘CJ’s fat head ripped her open and she bled to death’

- She was cold, cruel, stoic, and quiet. She never really got up in arms about much, unlike her husband. There was a kind of balance there. 

- She usually kept Harriet away from Hook when he was in a bad mood, as well as Harry, who was only an infant at the time. 

- She looked quite a bit like Harriet, but with CJ’s hair. 

- She wasn’t one to be crossed unless one wanted a knife in the ribs. 

- When she was mad at her kids, she tended to withdraw and pretend they were gone. 

- She was probably a pirate or something similar who worked with or served pirates. 

- I’m thinking Harriet is the only one of her kids who remember her - Harry was only a year old and she died giving birth to CJ. 

- Nobody’s quite sure if she was actually the mother of Harriet and Harry as well. Hook’s not sharing and she’s the only mother Harriet remembers - she was around when Harry was born, though Harriet doesn’t remember well enough whether or not she actually gave birth to him. For simplicity’s sake, Harriet’s just decided ‘fuck it, she was our mother’ and the other two don’t know any different. 

Regardless of whether she was the mother of all his kids or just CJ, Hook must have been very fond of her - he keeps a picture on a nightstand around. Meanwhile, if there were other mothers, there’s no evidence of it. 

- She used to tell Harriet stories and teach her how pirate songs went. She also used to hum to Harry when she wanted him to go down to sleep. 

Harriet Hook

- Harriet is about 19 when the franchise starts and about 20 now - so, about 3 years older than Harry and 4 years older than CJ. She's the oldest VK. 

- When her mother died, she took it upon herself to do most of the day to day raising of her siblings. As time went on, other adults noticed and started paying her dad to have her babysit. I don’t think there’s any VKs she hasn’t watched at least twice (outside things where villains are meeting to plot a way off the isle or partying or something, where she’s stuck in charge of the VKs in general). As she got older, she got her crew to help a little, but even with kids her age, she was usually in charge. Some of Hook’s crew used to nickname her ‘The Pirate’s Wendy’. She hates that nickname. She can’t deny that she’s stuck in the crux between her sibling’s sister and being their mother figure though (even if she’ll flatten them if they ever dare CALL her ‘mother’). 

- Harriet deeply resents that she had to raise her siblings. She was four - she never should have been responsible for two children only a few years younger than herself. She was TOO YOUNG. And it’s Hook’s fault, sure, but people aren’t always rational and sometimes she can’t help but resent her siblings for it. That isn’t helped by the fact Hook’s hired her out as a babysitter for anyone with cash, goods, or offering favours. She is NOT their NANNY. She used to have an iron fist style of babysitting - she figured if they were more afraid of making her mad than making their parents, they would listen to her and not make her look weak and incompetent to the parents (

- Harriet tends to cope with her environment by drinking, reading, or joining in the crew’s singing (as long as her dad isn’t working - he’s still a crack shot). 

- She’s not much into taking over as any kind of HBIC the way Mal or Uma is. She’s okay just chilling with her pirate crew and claiming seniority on the other kids. Mal tried to frighten her once and she laughed. “Really? I used to be your goddamned babysitter, don’t try to intimidate me. Sit down, little girl.” 

- She’s alcoholic as heck? Like, if she’s sober by noon, it’s a very sober day for her. Rum, whiskey, beer, and vodka are her favourites and she always has at least one flask of each on her - one on each hip and one up each sleeve. Don’t give her that look, she’s too SOBER to deal with the VK’s shit. 

- Even for an Islander, she puts things in as blunt and mean spirited as she can. She once told Gil when he was 8 and told her that his parents were going to have another baby, she told him ‘Fat chance, kid. With your mother’s hips and how much trouble babies give her, your father will kill her before he gets another baby out of her.’ 

- Because of all her time babysitting for them, Harriet talks to and listens in on the adults more than most. She occupies this weird place where she fits with the VKs and with the adults. Sometimes she uses this for both, telling them what the others had been saying. 

- A lot of the kids she used to babysit come to her for advice when they want someone older to help, but don’t want to talk to their parents. She’ll make them and grumble and complain about how she’s not their nanny and she was supposed to be free from these darn kids years ago and why do they come to HER for everything, god dammit. But after she’s done grumbling, she’ll help out. Usually after making them give her something.  

- When she’s really done with one of the other VKs, she takes a deep breath or clears her throat and then says very calmly “You’re a hateful child” or “You’re hateful children”. That is her way of saying ‘last warning’. If she’s screaming, yelling and swearing? It’s cool, keep pushing her buttons. If she does THAT? Sit down, shut up, and don’t do...whatever you did to annoy her. It’s NOT worth it. There will be consequences and you won’t like them. She once taped her brother to the ceiling for three days when he didn’t heed it. Their dad didn’t notice and she had to get him down. He’s listened to ‘You’re a hateful child’ since then. 

Harry Hook

- Harry has severe and undiagnosed dyscalculia, and so hasn’t learned to count. He might if he could get it diagnosed and get assistance for it, but how’s he gonna do that on the Isle? 

- Harry knows he’s got something wrong but he has no idea what. All he knows is something is wrong - those anger episodes are not normal. He is a little afraid of losing himself in that anger but he’s not sure what he could do about it. Any therapists on the isle are not therapists who should probably be trusted (if there are any). 

- Harry’s room is a mess but he always knows exactly where everything is. He keeps things where he can see them. It’s organized chaos. 

- Harry locks first years in their lockers regularly. 

- He is a real tool - don’t let him know you’re afraid of anything because he will use it against you. Not even in the more despicable ways, he’ll just troll with it, like yipping and barking at Carlos. 

- He is very much flirting with everyone a lot - the question is is this good flirting (he’s serious) or bad flirting (trying to make you uncomfortable or trying to lure you into a false sense of security). 

- He doesn’t sleep with an eye open (metaphorically) like some of the others on the Isle, but he hears EVERYTHING. Walking down the hall outside? He heard you. The whoosh of opening his port hole? Heard you. Tip toeing foot falls? Busted and he has his hook at your throat. 

- He works out - his arms will attest to that. 

- He’d rather get in big fights than little ones. Rumbles with rival gangs, three guys ambushing him, when people he’s shaking down for Uma fight back, it’s all good. 

- He’d probably be super fun at parties until fights break out at which point all bets are off. His calm and lucid moments tend to be best with Uma and his crew, not parties or bigger social spaces. He’s too trollish. 

CJ Hook

- CJ has a very eclectic mix of friends. She seems to have a penchant for people with magic though, such as Freddie and Zevon for example. 

- She’s always swinging from rigging, rafters, etc. She’ll find a place to swing from, wherever she is. 

- She’d rather have fun and adventures than feud with people specifically. If the Boreadonians are gonna party, she wants to watch the show. 

- She’s 15 during the time of the first movie, so about a year younger than Mal and co.

- CJ has sticky fingers with her sibling’s stuff - she regularly steals Harry’s stuff to piss him off. She always makes sure she gets Harriet’s stuff back before she realizes it’s missing because she likes not being throttled. Her favourite is to take his hook and make him do something or beg for it back. She steals from Hook too, but never for long and not very often. 

- Everybody sees how flashy and theatrical she is, but underestimate her. After all, surely she’d be too obvious to fool people and she has no patience. That’s usually when she sets her trap. People are so busy watching her do big, flashy things they miss the web she caught them in. 

- Never ever ever give her or loan her anything. You will not get it back. Ever. “This is mine now”. 

- She just takes eyeliner from her brother and other makeup from her sister. 

- If she doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find her. 

- She is very good at multitasking - she always has at lest 2 or 3 things going on. Mostly things that will be unpleasant and annoying if not actually super harmful for people. 

Captain Hook and Harriet

- Hook bragged about being the first to have a kid when she was born. 

- She was Hook’s pride and joy for the first 4 or 5 years of her life and if you asked him, he’d still claim she’s his favourite (though she’s not about to believe it - she knows full well it’s CJ). 

- When he feels like being ‘a father who teaches you things’ he’ll probably be with Harriet, showing her how to sail or be a captain. To date, she’s the only one of his kids he’s let steer the ship. 

- Unfortunately, Harriet also took the majority of his wrath, because she felt responsible for her kid siblings. She still has scars from knives, whips, his hook, and cigar burns to prove it. 

- He used to pick up books or anything else she could read while he was away for a few days. She’d read receipts if she had nothing else, so anything is good. He’s been known to brag about his ‘bloody smart’ daughter. 

- Hook is absolutely ignoring Harriet’s alcoholism. Go figure - he induced it in her, both by giving his six year old  hard liquor and by driving her to drink. 

- Harriet tried to move off the ship into her hideout a few years ago. When he found out, he acted very calm about it and told her he wouldn’t dream of taking out any frustration on her. Harriet thought she’d caught him on a good day. When she came back though, CJ had a black eye and Harry was clearly shaken. Hook told her he’d said he wouldn’t take any frustration on HER, but he couldn’t guarantee his temper around her siblings. She’d never been so angry as the moment she realized he would absolutely use her siblings who were like children to her to control her. 

- She sometimes steals his gun, for various reasons. She’s occasionally considered turning it on him...or on herself. But she’s got nobody to look out for her siblings so she’s not done that. 

- Captain Hook once feuded with Claude Frollo for half a year after he made Harriet uncomfortable while she was babysitting his daughter, Claudine. He didn’t hurt her, but the way he put his hands on Harriet’s shoulders too tightly and his tone creeped her out (while he was talking about how pirate’s lives were short when he was a law man) and she mentioned that to Hook. Nobody messes with Hook’s kids, so he asked her how she wanted him to answer this. She told him to scare them out of their minds. So he did. His crew would throw bottles, rocks, dirt, and all kinds of things at Frollo’s house, yell and jeer, break things,  insult and threaten his daughter, rattle swords, and sing very threatening pirate war songs. Finally, on the last night, Captain Hook came up to the front of the crowd and fired into the air and yelled “Frollo, I know what you did! Come out and die!” and fired again. Since that day, Claudine’s been afraid of pirates and especially Captain Hook and his children, Harriet’s not babysat for Frollo, and Harriet’s not sure what to make of this. On one hand, he took Harriet seriously and went to torment Frollo. On the other, was it because he cared about Harriet or because Frollo messed with Hook by messing with Harriet? And did he know what kind of man Frollo was when he told her to babysit for him in the first place? Hook would probably say it doesn’t matter - nobody threatens his kids. 

- Hook is proud of her for having her own crew, even if he doesn’t say it.

Captain Hook and Harry

- Hook likes to give his son a hard time for only being a first mate. “Why can’t you be more like your sisters?!” Which hurts Harry a lot. Turns out you can’t set yourself up as admirable and then tell your kids they don’t measure up. Who’da thought? He HATES disappointing his dad. 

- If Hook’s being honest, he forgets about Harry a lot. Most of the time he remembers he has a son, but not much more. He doesn’t even always remember his NAME. It’s not uncommon to hear Hook talk about ‘Harriet, CJ, and ....the other one’ or ‘the middle one’ or ‘the boy’. Harriet then reminds him of Harry’s name and Hook carries on like he’d used the name. 

- They don’t talk much unless Harry’s really messed up and Harriet wasn’t there to redirect Hook or when he specifically wants father-son time. 

- Harry very much wants his dad’s attention and for his dad to be proud of him. He does a lot to emulate him. He nicked one of his dad’s hooks and it’s his now. His dad was impressed he managed to get it and he was in a good mood, so sure, let the boy keep it. He doesn’t know Harry tried to get his hand bitten off because he hates that he still has both hands. Maybe that would be the kick in the ass he needed to be an actual decent dad. Or maybe he’d sink into denial and ignore Harry more - he denied that Harriet was an alcoholic because of him and that CJ avoids home for days on end because of him. 

- Those rage episodes Harry has are inherited from Hook, though Harry’s might be exacerbated by other mental illnesses or issues (I am not certain about what, as I would like more time to research various conditions). Hook recognizes them and sometimes he’ll have Harriet stick him in the brig until they’re done and then there will be consequences when they’re done (and his son will probably not like them). Or he’ll just leave the kid there until he remembers to come get him. He doesn’t know Uma can calm Harry down and probably wouldn’t care if he did. 

- Most of the time though, Harry isn’t being beaten or locked up - he’s simply ignored. That’s fine for Harry, he doesn’t need to take his dad’s temper like Harriet or avoid home because she doesn’t recognize it like CJ does. If it’s bad for him in particular, he can always hide out at Uma’s or Gil’s or the Lost Revenge. 

- There may be a rift in their future if there’s tension between Hook and Uma’s crews. Harry would never turn on Uma, but he doesn’t relish the idea of fighting his dad - he idolizes his dad! But even so, his dad should avoid threatening Harry’s crew, especially his captain. If Hook paid attention, he’d have noticed his son following Uma around, worshipping her, and nipped it in the bud when they were children. He hasn’t though, and Hook might live to regret that. 

- If you asked Hook, he’d profess to love his son. And, admittedly, because his mother and later Harriet protected him, Harry probably has quite a few decent memories with his dad (even if his dad doesn’t remember them). 

- Harry used to follow his dad around and listen to his stories about Neverland and Peter Pan

- Harry’s also the one Hook brings on the fishing trips for the shop the most. 

Captain Hook and CJ

- CJ is blatantly Hook’s favourite. He says she’s the most like him, and he spoils her as much as he can on the Isle. Harry and Harriet try not to let Hook see how much it annoys them - that’s not a reprisal they need. 

- She can get away with murder and all kinds of things the other kids or the crew would be scourged for. 

- She’s taken the least of his wrath, but she is not exempt. She sort of doubts her ability to tell when he’s in a bad mood that she can’t fix, so she tries to keep her distance. She likes to wander and annoy her friends. 

- When Hook feels like being an affectionate father, it’s a good guess he’ll be with CJ. 

- She used to hide when he was coming home from a fishing expedition and then jump out onto him to surprise him. She nearly gave Harriet a heart attack doing so, worried for his reaction, but Hook laughed and threw her in the air, saying ‘Hello, my hearty!’.

- When Hook is in a neutral mood or only a little bit of a bad mood, sometimes CJ can cheer him up. Sometimes if he’s in a bad mood, but not too bad, she’ll go up to him and give him a kiss on the cheek like she used to. 

- Most of his harm to CJ comes from threats and watching what he does to her siblings (and also being compared to them and himself, usually unfavourably).

- He’s also fairly stifling for CJ, frustrating her. He doesn’t let her steer a ship or keep a hideout because he is again, a controlling man who doesn’t like his kids having too many places to escape too. Besides, he ‘needs them’ for fishing. which is one thing for Harriet, who takes his anger and gets mad (and then drinks and sings with the crew) or Harry (who slips through the cracks) but CJ’s whole thing is relying on keeping her distance, so this is very annoying for her.

- CJ’s learned to read maps from him. She’s probably the best navigator out of her siblings. Hook says she has a nose for treasure.

- She’s a lot like him - scheming, manipulative, maniacal, and eager for adventure. Maybe that’s why she’s his favourite. Regardless, he sees himself in her and he’s fine serving as his baby girl’s mentor. 

Harriet and Harry

- When Harry was very little, he couldn’t pronounce “Harriet” properly (even though he had NO issues with “Harry”, Harriet was so mad). He called her “Hettie” instead. This went on until he was 8 or so (he’d long been able to say her name by then, but by that point she was ‘Hettie’ in his head). It went on until he annoyed her one day and because of that she slapped him and after that he called her Harriet. He only calls her Hettie now to annoy her. 

- Harriet used to use Mal’s feelings for Harry to get her to quit annoying her. She once told Mal if she didn’t quit being a pain, Harriet was showing Harry a picture of Mal with spinach in her teeth. She’s also threatened Harry with telling Mal embarrassing things. 

- Harry’s never been able to beat her in a sword fight. She always puts him flat on his ass. 

- Harriet thinks it’s hilarious watching Uma sabotage Harry flirting (not because Uma’s possessive or jealous, but because it’s funny as heck watching him get flustered and annoyed). Good job, Uma. 

- Harriet’s tried so hard to teach Harry to count but nothing ever worked. She despaired of his school years until he learned to cheat off Uma. 

- When Harry was very small, he used to crawl into her bed. He’d ask her not to tell Hook. She’d grumble about it and tell him he was too old for things like that (He was 4-6 but this is the Isle and this is the Hook’s family), but she’d let him and she wouldn’t tell their dad. The last thing she wanted was the consequences for it turning to her because she wasn’t going to let him dish them out to her little brother. 

- Harry really really doesn’t remember his mother. Even though he’s seen her picture, it doesn’t have any emotional connections for him. Mostly he can only imagine Harriet in that role. 

- She routinely drags him around by his ear and she can go on screaming rants for a long time about how frustrating he is or how stupid he’s been. When he was little, he was a cheeky little brat - he figured since CJ could sometimes calm down their dad this way, he could calm down Harriet by kissing her cheek and saying ‘Love you Hettie’. She almost throttled him - THAT’S NOT GOING TO WORK YOU LITTLE HELLION. And then she’d probably smack him upside the head and tell him not to do that anymore. 

- They both have really bad tempers and so when they fight, they go below the belt. She once told Harry she wished she was an only child and he told her he wanted to gut her half the time because Hook made a better parent. She told him he could deal with their dad himself then. They don’t apologize for things but after a few weeks they’d sit closer together in the mess hall and that’s good enough. 

- Harry isn’t really cognizant of just how much Harriet’s taken care of him (and CJ, but she might have an idea about that). He didn’t think about how she surely had homework she wasn’t doing when she spent a long time trying to teach him to count. He didn’t think about the fact he’s not seen her eat as much as he does because she’s always making sure he and CJ aren’t skipping meals (and he certainly doesn’t know she once stole their dad’s gun and threatened to send someone to hell to get Harry and CJ that food because business was slow and there was a food shortage). He doesn’t know she was redirecting their dad’s anger to her or that sometimes she was screaming at him to knock something off or dragging him around or smacked him to get him to do something because otherwise their dad would be FUCKING PISSED at him. He certainly wasn’t thinking about how, when their dad threatened Uma over some business dealing with Ursula, Harriet was holding him back and making him look at her instead of Uma not because he was being ‘weak’ or ‘annoying’ by yelling, but because she didn’t want their dad to get mad and also didn’t want him to watch if Hook really DID kill Uma (and ohhhhh, he hated her for holding him back). I’m not sure if he’d ever find out but maybe if he ever got some distance and got to think about it a lot, he might notice. 

Harriet and CJ

- CJ’s not quite sure about how she feels about Harriet in her head - one part of her brain says ‘sister’ and the other part says ‘mother’ and she’s not sure which is right. 

- When Harriet wanted CJ to shut up one day, when CJ was very little, she told CJ she’d braid a bead in her hair as a celebration for her first successful theft. It’s never hit CJ that Harriet just wanted her to sit down and shut up and quit annoying her - all she knows is when she does something impressive, like get a big score, Harriet braids a bead in her hair and the beads are pretty. 

- CJ’s favourite thing to do as a toddler was give Harriet heart attacks. She had to find the biggest thing in the area and climb it and swing from it. Harriet says she’s had grey in her hair ever since CJ was born. She hasn’t but it’s never stopped CJ from trying. 

- Sometimes CJ will stay in Harriet’s room with her, when Harriet’s drunker than usual and she’s scared Harriet will get alcohol poisoning. 

- These two fight all the time. Sometimes over silly things like makeup and sometimes over big things like piracy. 

- CJ routinely gets Harriet’s crew in her traps - both to test them for Harriet and sometimes to annoy her and sometimes to ‘punish’ her for crossing her in some way (real or imagined). 

- Sometimes when Harriet’s decided CJ’s been gone too long, she’ll drag her back by her hair and she doesn’t really care how much CJ doesn’t want to be at home unless their dad or brother is on a rampage. 

- Harriet actually gave CJ her first taste of alcohol. CJ was seven and had a fever, so Harriet gave her some bourbon. It worked (or they thought it worked) and she felt better and so when daddy gave her some rum a few months later, it went down easier. 

- Harriet’s temper puts CJ on the defensive all the time. CJ’s blaise attitude pisses off Harriet. These two haven’t worked an equilibrium out yet and they’ve occasionally fought physically. 

- CJ’s childhood screwed with Harriet’s education massively. She entered school late and was held back because she was busy dealing with toddler CJ. It’s not come up much, but Harriet sometimes wants to strangle CJ for it. 

Harry and CJ

- Harry calls her ‘Callista Jane’ just to piss her off. Pissing her off is his favourite thing to do with his little sister. 

- CJ’s favourite thing to steal is his hook. She’s also quite fond of rearranging his things, and breaking into his room just because he locked it or told her not to come in. He likes to tease her about crocodiles. 

- The only reason Harry hasn’t punted her through a wall for going through his stuff is because she’s his baby sister. Something about her being the baby stuck. It’s never stopped him from threatening her, hurting her friends, or bullying the heck out of her though. 

- The two of them used to play together most of the time when they were really really little. Harriet was a bit old for their games but they were always right smack in the proper age range. It made for some good fun before CJ started hanging out with Freddie and Zevon and before Harry had Uma and Gil. 

- These two are always making fun of each other for their romantic interests or trying to ‘warn them off’ because their sibling is the worst. There’s no sibling protectiveness here. They’re just making fun. 

- Harry gives CJ a surprising amount of brotherly advice. Now granted, most of that advice is phrased as ‘Do this/Don’t do this or I’ll *insert threat here*” but still. Call him a softy (no, don’t, he WILL hook you). 

- Harry and his friends used to go around annoying and bullying the heck out of CJ and her friends. 

- When they were still relatively young (think like 8-12) CJ would come up to Harry and his friends to try to get them to play with her. CJ’s games are manipulative and often not fun for anyone but her, so he’d try to refuse. CJ is always wiling to boss him around though and she does not care - Dad/Harriet (take your pick) said you would so GET OVER HERE HARRY. Sometimes they’d have fun together but most of the time Harry wants to strangle her. 

- Neither of them have any impulse control - don’t let them get in trouble together, they will egg each other on and escalate to all hell. 

- Harry worries about her in Auradon a non-zero amount. Most of the time he plays it off like he’s glad he has some peace and quiet. Sometimes he really is glad she’s not there to annoy him. Sometimes he’s fine because he knows she can handle herself. Sometimes he doesn’t care. Sometimes he wants to kick her around a little and annoy her. And sometimes he just plain misses her and worries about her and would do anything to have her home with him again WHO SAID THAT?

[smashbuddies]

Part Nine: Side Quest

Ding-dong!

Daniel groaned, and buried his face into his pillow, just barely awake. Maybe that was just his imagination. So he could just peacefully drift back to sleep and...

Ding-dong! Ding-ding-ding-ding!

“Oh my fucking god!”

It took all his effort, but he dragged himself out of bed, eyelids still heavy. The one day he wanted to sleep in, and some goddamn, piss-brained, piece of shit fuckhead had to abuse his poor doorbell and his ears. Well, he was going to give the fucker a piece of his mind.

He stomped down to the door, fists clenched at his side, and swung it open, ready to yell. But he instantly deflated as soon as he saw who it was.

Snail.

They looked pretty miffed for a second, before staring at him like they didn’t even recognize who he was. After a short moment, they blinked, and intelligently said, “Uhhh, are you another weird clone?”

Daniel promptly slammed the door in their face.

He was such a fucking idiot. At the very least he should’ve gotten dressed, but no, he had to be a fucking hot-head and answer the door in his goddamn pajamas with his messed up hair. There was no way he could live this down. They’d seen him at something other than his best, and that was unacceptable.

Maybe he could pretend it never happened.

So he went back upstairs and made himself look half-presentable. At the very least, put on a nice suit and brushed out his hair. Then he made his way back to the door, and thankfully, Snail was still there.

Unfortunately, his rash decision to change just made the situation even worse.

“What the fuck was that?” they asked, glaring at him with their arms crossed. “I show up early for once and you slam the door on me?”

His face grew hot. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh, so you’re trying to tell me that wasn’t you that answered the door looking like you just woke up?” Their outrage melted away into something much, much worse. They gave him that stupid Grin he hated and said, “You look pretty cute with bedhead.”

“That wasn’t me,” he immediately responded with, even though he knew it was a terrible lie. “It was Daniyal.”

“Really,” they said, as if asking if he was really going to stick with that. “Daniyal?”

Just then, Daniyal popped in from the kitchen. “Did someone say my name?”

Daniel turned and gave him a very pointed look. One that said you better say the right thing. “You answered the door a minute ago, didn’t you?”

Daniyal frowned. “No? Why?”

That son of a bitch.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Daniel suddenly asked, teeth clenched. God, he could throttle that bumfuck bastard. “Like with Andy?”

“Right, yes! I made some soup for them, I really hope they like it.” Daniyal ducked back into kitchen for a split-second before emerging with a sealed container. After squeezing his way out the door, he said, “I’ll be back later!”

As soon as he was gone, Snail gave Daniel a look. “So, you wanna go for a different lie, or do you wanna admit that you wear Mario pajamas to bed?”

“Alright, fine!” he snapped harshly, face as red as could be. “Look, I didn’t think you’d be coming over so early. Sue me.”

“Well, you always get pissed when I show up later than noon,” they said bluntly as they brushed past him. “I thought I’d be a good boyfriend for once and show up nice and early. Didn’t think you'd be taking a page from my book today.”

Daniel huffed and carelessly slammed the door shut. “I had a rough night.”

They gave him a cocky look from over their shoulder and teased, “Couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

“Uh-huh, sure,” he answered. Better to stroke their ego a bit than tell the truth. Then he noticed the backpack slung over their shoulder, and raised an eyebrow at them. “What’s that?”

They carefully set it on the couch and took a seat. “My laptop and tablet. I said I’d show you some of my art sometime, so…”

Right. He'd almost forgotten about that. Hell, that date happened, what? A couple weeks ago? Give or take a day or two? He remembered being excited about seeing their art. And that in turn kick-started the memory of him wanting to show them Sonic and Knuckles.

“Yeah, that sounds nice, actually,” he said with an earnest smile. “I have something to show you too, let me go get it real quick.”

He barely made it up three steps before he heard Snail call out, “You should change back into your pajamas while you’re up there.”

“What?” he bit out, backtracking just so he could glare at them. “Why the hell would I do that?”

They rolled their eyes. “Because you don’t need to be so formal inside your own damn house. Besides, I have to see you slip into something more comfortable eventually. So why not now?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas,” he pointed out, ignoring the ambiguously intentional innuendo. But really, if they had shown up in their sleepwear, he would’ve been pretty miffed, so his argument was weak.

“Well, that’s because I know how to dress like a normal person,” they readily countered, and oddly, their comment kind of hurt. “You don’t have to try and impress me. We’re dating, and we’ve already fucked a whole bunch. Just relax for once.”

Daniel stood there for a moment, on hand gripping the banister tightly. Normal, what would their punk ass know about normal? He’d show them.

A little while later, he came back down the stairs with his beloved Sega Genesis in hand. He heard Snail’s little hitch of breath, but pointedly ignored it in favor of getting everything set up. Plug in wires, make sure everything’s sitting steady and all. And maybe he bent over a bit, just to show off his ass a bit. It still looked nice, and he knew it

Dusting off his hands, he brought the controller with him as he plopped himself down on the couch and pretended like Snail’s bewildered stare didn't exist.

“Do you you wanna play first?”

“You actually own a t-shirt?” they asked, eyes not-so subtly raking him over. “And jeans?”

“Of course I do,” he muttered, playing up his bitterness just a bit with a side-glare. “I can dress normal.”

“You sure can,” they agreed. Then they leaned over and began to press quick, heated kisses to his neck. “You can also rile me up pretty good. Don't think I didn't notice what you were doing.”

A pleasant shiver ran through him, but he shoved the controller against them and said, “I was getting everything ready. So we can have a nice time playing a game together.”

They huffed and swiped the controller from him. “Not my fault you have a nice ass.”

After selecting Sonic, they stared at the TV for a solid few seconds, as if waiting for something to happen. Daniel huffed, and crossed his arms, already getting fed up with the wait.

“Well? Are you gonna play, or what?”

“Huh?” They blinked, and with a little testing, then realized that they sure as hell could move around. “Oh, I was kinda expecting a cutscene or something. You know, how games usually start so you don’t get lost.”

“It’s a Sonic game,” he argued, sitting back and watching them meander through the first zone. “Your only goal is to get rings, collect chaos emeralds, and go.”

“Well, I don't even know where I am!”

“Angel Island.”

“Okay, well, why am I collecting the fucking chaos emeralds again? You'd think Sonic would be able to hold onto the damn things.”

“Does it matter? Just shut up and play the damn game.”

Suddenly, the controller found itself in his hands as Snail huffed out, “You’re the video game expert here, you play it!”

“Fine!”

Not surprisingly, they spent more time griping than actually getting through the level. But that was fine. Daniel thankfully knew it like the back of his hand, and quickly found his way to the first bonus stage. Not his favorite, but he got through it just fine. Especially since the really important part was coming up soon.

Get the blue spheres!

From there, pure instinct took over. Right, right, right, right, get the rings, go straight, jump, left, left, left, left. For a moment he was taken back to when he was just fifteen years old, playing this game for the first time after school.

He just barely registered Snail speaking.

“Holy shit, you’re really in the zone right now, huh?”

“Hm?” Snapping out of his daze a bit, he managed to answer, “Oh, yeah. I’ve played this game a lot. Not usually on it’s own like this, but…”

Snail shifted. “On it’s own? The hell does that mean?”

“There’s a way to combine the cartridge with the one for Sonic 3.” Despite being engrossed in what he was doing, he liked answering their question and educating them. “Some sort of lock-on thing. I think it also works with Sonic 2.”

“What’s the point in doing that?”

Things followed a pattern from there. Snail would ask questions about some aspect of the game, and Daniel would answer while half-zoned out. He couldn’t see their face, obviously, but he could hear as each word from their mouth became more enthusiastic and interested than the last. Time seemed meaningless, and it just kinda slipped away. The only thing even showing its passage was each stage that Daniel cleared.

It was really nice to just relax with Snail like this for once.

Soon, he was at the last stage, flying through space as Super Sonic while Snail cheered him on. Their encouragements fueled him, and his heart stopped every time he crashed into something. C’mon, he was so close, he couldn’t fail now! Not in front of Snail!

Time stopped. He’d done it. The Master Emerald was saved, and he could relax. While the final cinematic played, he let out a deep sigh and set the controller down. The biggest grin slipped onto his face as a wave of joy washed over him. There was almost nothing more satisfying than beating a game.

“That was something,” Snail said, tone unreadable. But there was a smile on their face, so that had to be good, right? “I can’t believe how fast you went through all that.”

He shrugged in an attempt to play humble, but it didn’t work out so well. “I mean, that’s what Sonic’s about right?” After a second, his smile turned a bit more sheepish. “Sorry you didn’t get to play though.”

They waved him off. “I liked watching you, don’t worry about it. Besides, you’re really cute when you’re all into it.”

That certainly made him blush. To distract himself, he offered the controller to them, “There’s still Knuckles’ route if you wanna play.”

“As nice as that sounds, I think I’m kinda, uh, gamed out,” they said right before pulling their laptop from the backpack. “I wanna show you my art now, if you don’t mind.”

Honestly, he’d never thought about how digital artists did their thing. So when Snail showed him all the pieces they’ve done for different clients- or even just for fun- he was kind of blown away. There were all sorts of things, and they were all pleasing to the eye. Really, it was almost hard to believe that Snail could do all this.

“So people just pay you to draw for them?” he asked while they scrolled through their folder. “How does that work?”

“Well, they tell me what they want me to do and I give them a price. It’s not, like, and hourly wage kinda thing,” they answered, a small frown on their face. “It kinda sucks, but you know. Not nearly as much as it did when I first started off.”

He only nodded, not knowing what to say.

After a moment, they huffed. “Want me to draw you something real quick?”

It took him a second to register what they had asked. “Uh, are you sure? You usually get paid for that.”

They snorted and opened up some program on their laptop. “Well, you just spent two hours talking nerd at me, which you usually get paid for. Besides, I just need to warm up a bit. Won't be some big thing.”

His eyes glanced over to that TV, where the credits were just ending. “Alright, well, mind drawing Sonic?”

The look they gave him was almost taunting. “You really are a nerd.”

“Shut up.”

Seeing them draw was definitely a new experience. The tablet was certainly something strange to behold. His brain couldn't quite handle the disconnect between their swooping hand motions and the curves appearing on the screen. Almost as if it was some kind of black magic. Or maybe he was just old.

As if.

It surprised him when part of the way through, they pulled a picture of Sonic up. “What’s that for?”

“Reference,” they answered, eyebrows furrowed together with focus. “Can't pull him outta my ass. Besides, I need to get the right colors.”

“Right, right.”

Like he knew. Hell, the last time he seriously drew anything was when he was eight years old doing Inky for all of his school art projects. Since then it’d just been doodles in the margins of notes, tests, and then scripts.

While they worked, he asked the occasional question. Why are they redrawing over their old lines? How do they get the right colors? Thankfully, they didn't find it annoying and readily answered him just as he did for them earlier.

Eventually, he found himself leaned against them, eyes half-drooped while they colored. For once, he didn't feel all that on edge. Like he could just breath and be without anything coming in and ruining that.

“And… Done!”

He blinked several times. Sure enough, there was a smirking Sonic giving him a thumbs up right before his eyes.

“Cute,” he mumbled, sitting up and stretching to wake himself a bit. “I like it.”

“Good, good,” they said as they set the laptop on the coffee table, their voice having a bit of a sly edge to it. Hooking their arm around his waist, they continued, “You know, I think I've changed my mind. I do need a little payment for that drawing.”

Since he wasn’t a dumbass, he quickly caught onto their little game. But he’d play coy anyway, just for the hell of it.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, glancing over at them with a neutral look. “Name your price.”

They leaned in close, cheeks just a tad pink, and said, “A kiss.”

Wow. To think, this was the same person that would easily pin him down and tell him how hard they were gonna fuck his brains out. Getting flustered over demanding a simple kiss. It was so contradictory, yet so them.

Letting out a deep sigh, as if this was the most demanding task they could ever ask of him, he said, “Well, I guess I could do that for you. Since you did a pretty okay job.”

For a second, they looked offended, but he shut them up before they could get a word out by planting a sweet kiss right on their lips. With a low hum they reciprocated it, pulling him close so the two of them were flush against each other. The warmth and closeness had him wishing that little moment could last forever. Sadly, like every other good thing, it had to come to an end.

“Guess that’ll cover it,” Snail teased, eyes alit with joy. “Next time, though, don’t be a dick before you pay me.”

“Duly noted.”

A long moment passed where they just sat there, almost entwined with each other. Daniel could feel the slow rhythm of their breathing. Despite the sun still being high in the sky, he felt cozy enough to fall asleep right then and there. But an urge to say something hit him. So he did.

“Thanks for coming over,” he half-whispered. His heart pounded the word vulnerable into his chest. And he sure as hell was. “I like just hanging out like this. It’s nice.”

“Please, I come over all the time, you don’t need to thank me,” they said, sounding half-asleep. “Just keep getting me snacks and it’s all good.”

Prick. Still, that wasn’t too big of a demand. If they could keep having moments like this, then he wouldn’t complain.

Three little words filled his mouth with sweetness. Instead of letting them fly free, he swallowed them down. Was it too soon? He didn’t know. But that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.

[davidmann95]

What is the 'Two-Face problem' regarding his stories? What can be done about it?

That he’s locked into a setup that forces him to tell one of, appropriately, two stories. This has been covered in better detail before by others, but in short: the only stories to really tell about him are his origin, because it’s so full of dramatic potential, or an attempt to cure him, because he’s Batman’s noble former ally in the war on crime laid low by a demon within, so any story of those two clashing that isn’t about Batman trying to save him is going to seem trivial. Even the recent My Own Worst Enemy, which went as far afield of traditional stories for either of them as having him on shotgun to Batman wrecking his way across the American South with a chainsaw while being pursued by KGBeast - and I definitely liked the idea it introduced of Two-Face intentionally bringing out the worst in others, something I’d like to see be a sticking element for his character - it’s still ultimately a story about whether he can be cured, and whether one side of him can overpower the other. And the answer to both is of course “no”, because then you can’t use Two-Face anymore.

Here’s a dirty little secret about Batman’s villains, at least from my perspective. Yes, he unquestionably has the best rogues gallery in comics, but they’re not THAT much better than most other major characters’ rank-and-file. Not that they’re bad by any means, but they’re absolutely artificially inflated by circumstane. By Batman’s nature as a weird solver of elaborate puzzles who’s easily put in physical danger, it’s easier for them to provide a serious and distinctive threat to him even in a ‘serious’ context than it is for a guy with a flamethrower or boomerangs to reasonably challenge a nerdy cop who can outpace light. And since Batman’s more concretely and popularly defined psychologically and symbolically than probably any other superhero, it’s tremendously easier for creators to at least nominally parallel him in some meaningful fashion than it is for Superman’s guys - if most writers can’t think of anything to show Kal-El as other than Nice and Good, they’ll have a hard time coming up with a contrast for him other than Mean and Bad. It’s a triumph largely by contrast that lets even simple Bad Guy V Good Guy stories by average talent coast by on atmosphere and basic observations. Hence why the likes of Penguin struggle after all these years, since his ability to parallel Batman isn’t nearly so immediately obvious and simple (it’s absolutely possible, but it’d require more thought and effort than most are willing to put in), while even the usually pretty flat Scarecrow can easily carry a comic because hey, he relies on fear too, there’s probably something in that.

Harvey has been able to coast in largely the same way most of the time. Harvey’s good, Two-Face is bad, and he reflects the most obvious, banal aspect of Batman possible, that he has a dark side represented visually. And truth be told, I think that vein has well and truly been bled dry. Even aside from whether or not it’s a good idea for a villain in the first place - sensitivity towards mentally ill people has never been Batman stories’ strongest suit, and the modern Harvey Dent is the most stereotypical example possible in that regard, an abused child who grows up to be a gruesome freak with a dangerous, violent alternate personality that emerged or even developed in a single moment of highest drama - there’s not that much to it. You get Harvey and Two-Face arguing and never winning, he feels bad but sometimes doesn’t, Batman feels bad, everyone feels bad, we get to ponder about the darkness hidden inside the human heart and that, sit down for this one, Batman kind of has two faces too, you guys. Like I said, it’s banal, the most facile of observations on Batman as a character that ultimately tracks back to the idea of him as ultimately mad himself and driven above all by vengeance and violence, an interpretation pretty much every Batman story worth its salt moved on from over a decade ago.

It is absolutely fixable though, largely because there is of course a second Two-Face out there, the original, and he’s always worked better. People just tend to forget about him because the aesthetic leans more easily towards the guy I talked about above. And it’s a GREAT aesthetic, from the face to the suits to any bisected hideouts or getaway cars he might bring into play. But that’s all that stuff is, same as Riddler’s question marks or Joker’s playing cards; all that, even his face, is an expression of his pathology, not the core of it.

That’s the coin.

The coin’s turned into a pretty insignificant part of his character over the years, a simple compromise between the two identities over who gets to drive that’s often forgotten, but really think about that thing if you take away the identity divide. Harvey Dent is a man so at odds with the world around him and alienated from any recognizable principles, so unable to make decisions or make a distinction between the value of good or evil under his own power, that he’s surrendered his very decision-making capabilities to this thing. The coin decides his soul, the coin decides who lives or dies, the coin is horrifying on a level the split-personality take can’t even begin to compete with. A million arguments between the DA and the Mob Boss could never so brutally and simply capture the sheer brokenness of Harvey Dent’s soul as him showing the part of him that can understand or care about consequence is just gone, and that he’s replaced it in the most chaotic, meaningless way possible.

I tend to think Batman’s villains work better when they oppose his philosophy or aspects of his overall narrative rather than his psychology, especially since the bedrock observations about his psychology in play there are like I said generally pretty simple. Riddler’s not interesting because He’s Obsessed Too!, but because he threatens to tear down the idea of Batman as unstoppable and always one step ahead of crime. Maybe Joker also Had A Bad Day, but he’s endured because at his best he threatens the basic logistical and moral assumptions Batman’s world is built on. My terrible (but surprisingly popular, thanks guys!) take on Mr. Freeze is rooted in the idea that he’d be more workable long-term as someone who finds security and power in becoming something bigger than an ordinary man after a tremendous loss, rather than him ‘just’ also being sad about losing his family. And while I don’t really care that much about Which Face Is The Real One, the idea of Two-Face as a man who in spite of devoting his life to fighting chaos and forcing the world to make sense just like our hero ultimately completely succumbs to that chaos on the most fundamental philosophical level imaginable, whether in defiance of the justice he once served or as a theoretically purer version of it (which the coin can stand for either way), really does it for me. 

He can still have the face and accompanying visuals and gimmicks as Gotham-level realizations of said philosophy and representations of the defilement of the good man he once was. Rather than locking him into a rigidly defined paradigm of which side is stronger (though you can still do that too, directly over good and evil!), he becomes inherently unpredictable and therefore infinitely more dangerous and dynamic. He becomes a threat to Batman’s entire approach to life rather than a walking problem to be fixed, putting them on a much more even footing for a back-and-forth rivalry and letting more standard confrontations between them be as charged with drama as whether or not Harvey can overcome the worst in himself, opening up far more possibilities for him as a supervillain. The alternative may have gotten more play as of late, but exhibit A for my preference: it’s the take The Dark Knight went with, the objectively most critically acclaimed story that guy has ever been in. I Believe Harvey Dent and Two Face Hate Each Other has had its day and run its course. Harvey Dent Believes In Chaos.