#blue period said ‘please; please. i want to kill someone with my art’

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i can’t be trusted when i enter my weird self-deprecating writing moods because it’ll inevitably end with me going manic and thinking ‘i want to write something so good it’ll kill someone’

[simplyahoe]

Kinktober Day 6 : Nipple Play

Dedicated to a lovely @cakepop-tatertot

Also here are the prompts again

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TW : time travel, slight dub con, threesome, Light Bondage, overstim

Character : Akaza/Hakuji, Koyuki

Male Reader

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You laid on the tatami, a bit stunned from falling into a portal while sparring with Akaza and dropping into a house.

Across the room is a couple.

A very familiar looking male, around 18, with black hair and pink eyelashes. His eyes are a beautiful light blue. He is in a martial arts gi, criminal tattoos around his arms.

The girl on the other hand, doesn’t look familiar at all. Black hair held up with a snowflake pin. A very familiar snowflake. Pink to light blue kimono with a snow pattern. Pink eyes with white flower irises.

“Who are you?” Akaza’s voice came from the guy

“I’m a demon slayer…..” you stared at the two “you?

“I’m Hakuji and this is my Fiancé, Koyuki.” Hakuji’s brows furrowed

You thought about it

“Could any of you tell me what time period it is?”

“Of course, Edo.” Hakuji answered

“Time travel.”

You huffed. It isn’t a demon blood art. You two were sparring in the safety of Akaza’s small safe haven.

“Anyone here made a wish of sorts?”

Silence.

Slowly Koyuki raised her hand

“Eh?!” Hakuji looked a bit shocked

“I kind of made a wish on a star.” She hid her face behind her sleeves “I wanted to know what will make you feel good for our wedding night.”

His face became red. In fact, his blush went down his neck and to his ears. Just like a specific demon you know. It then clicked in your mind, Akaza looked really similar to Hakuji. They looked like twins. It means that Akaza and Hakuji are one in the same. What could have happened to make him turn into a demon?

“I think I have a vague Idea, but don’t kill me if I’m right.” You pointed at Hakuji “I am currently involved with a demon named Akaza.”

“So?” I guess being a brat has always been in his blood

“And he looks an awful lot like you. So something bad might happen to cause you to become a demon.”

“Wha-“

“I’m not done.” You gave a pointed look “to put it simply, Akaza and I fuck. We live in Taisho, so Koyuki-San must have passed somewhere along the line.”

That gave them a shock

“And if I’m correct, I’m supposed to be here to teach her the ways of fucking you.”

You ended the statement there to give them time to process what was just said. It took a few minutes but Koyuki was pretty quick about it.

“Please teach me!” She grabbed your hand “If I don’t have time left, I want to make the most of it!”

“Wait.” Hakuji’s voice wavered

“This means the three of us fuck then.” You grinned

“Do I get a choice?”

“Nope, if you want to send me home, we fucking tonight.”

“Wait…”

You two didn’t listen, pushing him to the bedroom. Koyuki pulled out a futon while you held Hakuji in place. When she nodded, you threw him onto the bedding, sliding behind him and holding his thighs slightly open with your legs.

“WAIT!”

He yelped when you slide his gi off his shoulders, catching his elbow before it can hit your face. Wrestling his arms behind his back, you held both his wrists with one hand, using the belt to tie his hands back. He struggled, but it held.

“Lady Koyuki come here”

You wave her over, pulling her hands to his chest

“His neck and ears are his weak points, but these are what get him going.”

You pinch a nipple, gaining a squeak from the shy, squirming Hakuji. He bites his lip in an attempt to keep quiet.

You lick the shell of his ear before nibbling on it, gaining some quiet sounds from the Soryu fighter.

“Try it.”

She watches as her fiancé wriggles in your grasp before nodding in determination and pressing his other nipple. His gasp is music.

“Good boy.” You murmured into his ear

Koyuki noticed and took a mental note. She mimicked your movements as he started to fight his bonds. Licking his ears and kissing down his neck, remembering your words.

It’s odd seeing black hair with blue eyes, but it's nothing too much of a shock. His mannerisms are still pretty similar, just less shy about his body.

His nipples are now hard, the one that you played with is slightly pinker. Mainly from your rougher treatment.

“How about you try sucking and gently biting them?”

“Wah?”

Slightly pleasure dazed, Hakuji didn’t really catch your words. He only watched his future wife get closer to his chest, till she latched on. He threw his head back, resting against your shoulder, as a moan fell past his lips.

“Ple- please st- stop.”

“Hmm?”

“Feels we-weird. Please.”

“Oh is that so?”

You worked off his pants and fundoshi. Hakuji barely managed to move his head to look at what you are doing. His dick in hand, you motioned for Koyuki to sit back and watch, grinding the tip of your thumb into his slit.

“Ghiiiiii!”

He grit his teeth as he came. Eyes rolled back as tears fell from his eyes. Head thrown against your shoulder his entire body tensed. He unknowingly pushed his whole body against you. As he fell from his high, he drooped into your hold.

“It tastes a bit weird, but do you want to try?”

White painted knuckles pressed against her tongue as she licked some of his release off. Her face scrunched at the taste. Shrugging, you licked your hand clean.

“Ple…. Please…. Enough….” Hakuji huffed

“If that was enough, why am I still here?” You kissed his tempel “don’t worry, I think after the next thing I’ll be gone.”

“Please….” His eyes closed, “Take care…. of me……”

“I will.”

You laid him down, untying him and spreading his legs. Motioning Koyuki closer, you showed her the lube piece.

“That dissolves in saliva, do you want me to dissolve it?”

She nodded

“I will be teaching you how to fuck his ass. So I will put the lube in your hand ok?”

She nodded once again. You stuck it in your mouth, waiting until it fully liquefied. Pulling her hand to your mouth, you allowed the lube to drip from your mouth. Once it was all out, you guided her hand.

“Slow at first.”

You muttered to her, as her middle finger slipped into his ass. Once her first finger fully entered you motioned to her how to move her hand.

“Now I think he is loose enough for a second finger.”

Her ring finger started to slip in. She worked through the motions taught, quickly gaining some soft, weak cries.

“Now, find the prostate. It will make him feel the best.”

You put Hakuji’s head onto your lap, allowing her to fully explore on her own. His hands weakly grasped onto your uniform. Tears falling faster as more noises slip from his lips.

Quiet praises fell from Koyuki’s lips as she explored. Until his thighs came together accompanied with a loud yelp.

“You found it! Now that place will make any man feel good, but I learned that he likes it rough.”

You played with his short hair, brushing tears away every so often. Hands traveled down to play with his chest.

“Got it!” She quickly started moving again, drawing cries and moans from his lips.

This is getting you hot, pants feeling uncomfortable and tight. You moved your pants down enough to pull out your dick.

“May I?”

You looked at Koyuki

“Go ahead. You become someone important to him.”

Hakuji didn’t give a second thought, he allowed you to enter his mouth. You muffled his sounds with your dick, the vibrations becoming pleasant. He is sloppy, saliva dripped from the corners of his lips as he tries to suck you off.

“MMNNNNHHH”

He squealed through his second orgasm, noise only muffled by your cock. The vibrations shocked through you, causing you to cum down his throat.

Hakuji slowly came down. Hips rutting against nothing. Koyuki wiped her hand off with a pre-prepared towel, a satisfied smile on her face.

You pulled out. He gasped for air, trying to slow his breathing. Saliva and white dribbled down his face

“Gonna….. Die….” With his last thought said, he slipped into unconsciousness

“You did good, Lady Koyuki.” You fix your clothes as you started to fade, “ But there is nothing else I can teach.”

“Thank you” she chirped, way too happy having finger fucked her fiancé into oblivion

“See you on the other side.”

Black

“Oi… OIIIII!” Akaza flooded your senses

“Huh?”

“You disappeared for an hour and returned asleep.”

You laid on your back, head in his lap. He leaned over you, hands in your hair, gently massaging your scalp. His little vest covers you like a very tiny blanket.

“Let’s just say, you were cute as a human.” You smiled up at him

“I hope you remember that I don’t remember anything about being a human >.<“ he has such a cute pout

“Yeah.”

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Decay: part II

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: this talks about alcoholism, implications of sex, mentions of technical assault (Jessie kissed Warren while he was drunk and she made him think she was Mother Nature!), also we get into Warren’s backstory a bit. I’m not trying to make anyone out to be a villain, but the story overall is much more upsetting than usual.

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! Not exactly the mood needed right now— I am very sorry, but I’m working on a much happier piece for Mother Nature and Warren! I’ll try to have it out before the end of the month!

Part 1 if you need a refresher!

Warren didn’t want to tell anyone about what happened. He wanted to pretend it never happened. To just hole up the memory of the night deep into his mind. He always hid and pushed away trauma. Why should this be any different?

His friends wanted to get Alex or maybe even Charles involved, but he protested. 

“It’s my word against her’s.” 

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to support you, and Jean and Charles are telepathic—”

“What can I really do? Press charges? If I do that then and use Jean or Charles to back me up, it becomes a whole mutant’s rights issue. It’s not worth it.” 

(Y/N) hated seeing Warren look so defeated. Jessie going about Xavier’s unscathed by everyone who wasn’t close with Warren, and him thinking it was his fault. 

(Y/N) had said she must have eaten something bad at the Halloween party, causing her to feel sick and sprout poison ivy. Also why all the plants died. 

If Hank and Charles could tell she was lying, they didn’t say anything. 

Rumors started amongst students about what had happened at the party— if Warren had actually cheated on (Y/N), if he did something to Jessie, or if Jessie forced herself onto him. 

Warren didn’t like the rumors involving (Y/N) in the mess. He didn’t like the stares and whispers they got when people saw them together. 

“Poor girl, staying with him even after he cheated.”

“Maybe she’s too naive to realize.”

“I knew they’d never work out— (Y/N)’s too good for him.”

“I bet he forced her into going out with him.” 

“I mean… he’s not ugly—”

“Yeah, but he’s not a good person and (Y/N) is!”

It made him sick to his stomach. Warren didn’t force her into anything— and he thought he had changed, that people were finally trusting him. 

Guess he was wrong.

—

Warren wasn’t even paying attention in his environmental sciences class. They were watching a video on how a plant species can be invasive, required to take notes on it. 

Warren was texting (Y/N), phone brightness turned down all the way. He just wanted to go to bed for a while and ignore the real world.

When the bell rang, dismissing students, Alex told everyone they’d finish the video, next class. 

Warren got up to leave, but Alex stopped him. 

“You doing alright?” 

“Uh, yeah.” He lied. “I’m not in trouble am I?” 

Alex hesitated to answer. 

“No.”

Warren nodded, noticeably nervous. 

“There’s a rumor going around saying you assaulted Jessie Rowe.”

Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. “I didn’t.”

“Okay… But something happened, didn’t it?” 

Warren didn’t respond.

“Warren, you have to tell me what happened.” 

“I got tipsy and she kissed me. I thought she was (Y/N), but then (Y/N) walked in and Jessie tried to act like I tried to kiss her.”

 Warren’s eyes were pleading— pleading for Alex to not get mad at him for drinking, or mad at him for not speaking sooner. 

“Um, no one got hurt, and now there’s just a rumor going around, so you can like, give me detention for drinking or whatever it’s fine—”

 “I’m going to have to tell Professor Xavier,” Alex told him. 

“Please don’t tell him I was drinking! I can’t— I won’t—”

Alex could see the desperation in his eyes. Warren had nowhere else to go. He, like many other students, depended on Xaiver’s entirely.  

“You’re a good kid Warren— you’ve opened up to others, you were sober for almost six months, you have a good group of friends and even a girlfriend— Charles isn’t going to punish you. I just don’t want you to spiral down and lose all the progress you’ve made…” 

“I just,” Warren rubbed his eyes. “Don’t wanna make a big deal about it. I’d rather it just blows over. Everyone will eventually forget about it anyway.” 

“Are you aware of the rumors involving (Y/N)?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, so, this involves her and Jessie. I know—” 

Alex and Warren turned their heads to the door. Someone was opening it. 

(Y/N) stepped inside. Warren hadn’t shown up to the library during their shared free period like he said he would, so she was worried about him. Plus, he hadn’t been doing too well since the Halloween party…. Neither of them had been. 

Her eyes were pink and purple— she was full of worry for her boyfriend. 

“Oh!” She gaped, soon as she saw Warren and Alex sitting at his desk, in the middle of what looked like an important conversation. 

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” She asked. 

“No. You can stay.” Warren told her. (Y/N) dragged a chair over and sat next to him.

“Right, as I was saying, Charles isn’t going to expel you, but he might want to make a police report. I’m not sure what good it will do, but—”

“I don’t want to. It’s not going to do anything but cause problems.” 

(Y/N) was immensely confused. She had no idea what they were talking about. 

“We’re gonna talk to Jessie, maybe a few of your friends, and knowing Charles, he won’t expel either of you. We’ll do everything we can to get the rumors to stop…” 

Oh! It finally clicked in her mind. 

It was about the party. 

“Okay… Thank— thank you, Alex.” 

“Yeah, we should go to Charles’s office— what class do you guys have next?” 

“I have lunch.”

“AP art.”

“That’s… Ms. Burnwood, right, (Y/N)?” 

She nodded.  

“I’ll make sure your absence is excused.” 

“Thanks.”

Alex took them up to Charles’s office. Warren then explained everything that happened, while trying to not get his friends in trouble for also drinking. 

Jessie was brought up to Charles’s office and questioned. She caved pretty easily, with (Y/N) glaring at her the whole time, and amid their telepathic principal, lying wouldn’t do her any good. 

Jessie was “grounded”— she couldn’t leave campus during the semester until after Thanksgiving break— she was also to stop encouraging the rumors, and had to talk with one of the school counselors once a week until they deemed it no longer necessary. Jessie’s parents weren’t in the picture, so notifying them wouldn’t do any good. 

Warren’s punishment was less severe, he couldn’t be out later than nine on weekends, (just until Thanksgiving break) and he was required to go to group therapy to help him deal with his former alcoholism and past traumas, for the rest of the school year.  

—

“You don’t have to tell me what goes on at group therapy.” (Y/N) told him. 

“I know.” 

“You don’t have to tell anyone.” 

Warren smiled a little, “I know.” 

“Okay…” (Y/N) kisses his cheek. 

Warren wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I hope it goes well… it should.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah… Here,” Her hand was in a fist. When she opened it, she revealed a daisy and a four-leaf clover. 

“You don’t really need luck or anything but, um, I thought, you know—“ 

Warren accepted the small gift, taking it from her hand. “Thanks, baby. I love it.” 

—

Group therapy was awkward. Warren hated it. He knew it would be good to talk about… well, everything, probably, but he had a hard time opening up to total strangers. 

“Alright, in case you’re new or don’t remember, my name is Allison… We have a new member with us today, he’s going to be with us for a while.” Allison looked at Warren. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Okay… Um, my name is Warren.”  

Everyone replied with, “Hi, Warren.” 

“And um, I’m a mutant.” 

Allison smiled, “That’s great! Do you go flying a lot? 

“Uh, yeah.”

“What kind of metal are your wings made of?” A girl with washed-out blue hair asked.

“Titanium, I think.” 

“Well, Warren, welcome to the group,” Allison interjected, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Now, we’re going to do an ice breaker of sorts, and then just have like, regular conversation. We can all go around and say our favorite color and why.” 

Warren blinked. He didn’t— he didn’t have a favorite color. 

“And don’t say you don’t have a favorite color. If you can’t pick a favorite, choose one you hate the least… We can start with Trey.” 

Warren thought of color options—

Black?  No. Black wasn't his favorite, despite being 95% of his wardrobe. It absorbed the most light, helping him blend in with the darkness and look tough, something he needed in Germany. 

Blue— The color of Kurt— his roommate and friend, who he tried to kill. Twice. Something he still felt remorse over. And Apocalypse. The man who gave him the metal wings and tattoos, forcing him to aid in mass destruction, only to leave him for dead when he was no longer useful.

Red— the color of Alex’s plasma beams. And how the Horsemen were a result in him almost dying.

White and Silver— the colors of his wings. Past and present. How each reflected hardships from Warren’s life. How he hated them and a child and almost resorted back to that self-deprecation when they shifted into metal and the consequences finally sank in. 

But what about green? The color of healthy plants that thrive. The color of (Y/N)’s eyes when she’s happy.

Warren liked the color, despite (Y/N)’s eyes rarely being green around him. However, it didn’t mean she was unhappy with him.

Her eyes were pink around him. A way of saying “I love you” without actually saying it. The pink meant she cared about him more than most people— that she trusted him, accepted him for who he was despite his past, and that she would be there for him when he needed her. 

Not many people could say they would do those things for Warren, or that they had.

His father cared more about the family name and how his son couldn’t possibly be a freak. His mother didn’t want his wings to tarnish her image, and while she was still his mother, she left him on his own most of the time. 

And how all his past relationships and flings— they didn’t have much meaning. There was never any real affection behind them. They saw the cage fighting king and wanted a piece of that. 

(Y/N) looked past all of that. She saw how he responded to what life threw at him. She saw the tough guy act, the big softie, the broken boy who ran away in fear, the man who thought he wasn’t good enough— she brought out his good side, making him realize he deserved happiness, love, and a home, that when you hit rock bottom, you can only go up from there. 

He decided pink was his favorite color, because it showed someone cared for him in ways he wasn’t used to. He would do anything to keep it around forever.

“Warren, what’s your favorite color?” 

“Pink.” 

He got a few funny looks. They were probably expecting him to say black, based on his general aesthetic. 

“And why is that?”

“Um, it’s my girlfriend’s eye color… she’s also a mutant.” 

Allison smiled, “That’s very sweet.” 

She moved on to the next person, “Rose, what’s your favorite color?” 

She said, “Green.” But Warren wasn’t paying attention to why. 

The ice breaker eventually ended, and Allison shifted the discussion to other things. 

“Now Warren, since you’re new, usually new members spend most of their first meeting talking about themselves. Just so we can get to know you and whatnot.”

“Okay… um… anything specific you want to know?” 

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” 

“Okay… So, I was born into a really small family. Just me, my mom, my father, and his brother. I don’t really know what happened to my grandparents. I never asked... 

When I was three we moved from Westminster to Centerport.”

“Where’s that located?”

“Oh, uh, Westminster’s close to London.” 

Allison looked impressed. 

“I went to a private all-boys school when I was little. I don’t remember the name of it though.” 

“Were you born with your wings?” Allison asked.

“No.” Warren responded. “They started to grow when I was eleven… I was terrified. I spent almost every day trying to rip them out… but once all the feathers are gone, you’re left with nothing but bone. It hurt like hell, but I used a pocket knife and a razor to try and cut them or at least file the bone down.” 

“It wasn’t hard… but it hurt a lot. I spent so much time worrying about my wings and if people would discover them, that I started to fall behind in school… I wasn’t like failing or anything, I had access to all kinds of tutors and everything, but my parents quickly found out I was falling behind. My father was barely aware, telling my mom to ‘deal with it.’ She tried her best, but I was so scared of them discovering my wings…”

   Warren sighed, “My parents had a beach house in Italy, and we were supposed to go there for my fall break. I was so terrified. I couldn’t go swimming, they’d see my wings… But I couldn’t find a way out of the trip. I was twelve at the time and my mom… She saw my back when I came out of the shower...”   

“She screamed, and my father came running to us. When he saw my back, he was disgusted. The look on his face was drilled into my skull for years. And it wasn’t even that bad, they were just growing back after being cut, so they weren’t even that big… but I just remember how scared my mom was, and how disgusted my father was… I just started crying and apologizing, but it didn’t do anything.” 

“We left our trip four days early and I was pulled out of school. My parents decided to homeschool me, which basically meant, cut all contact with everyone from school and have a few tutors come to the house.” 

“Did you have contact with anyone outside of your home?”

“I saw some family friends, and one or two kids of my parent’s friends… my parents hired countless doctors and all kinds of people, doing tests on me, trying to find a “cure”. Every time they failed my parents just got more upset— I was becoming a waste of time and money. They were becoming more distant and cold, wrapping themselves up in their work, and I was locked up.”

“What happened to your wings?”

“My mom said the scars they would leave were ugly, but I was forced to let them grow out.” 

“My parents were arguing a lot, always sad or angry… mostly because of my wings… I was getting tired, tired of hiding, tired of the arguing, I wanted it all to stop…”

“Can you please stop?” Warren thought he was going to cry. 

His father glared at him, disgusted by the wings, and how his son was on the verge of tears. 

Warren could hear his parents arguing from down the hall. That’s all they seemed to do when they were home— fight. 

Warren blamed himself. If he was just normal. If he didn’t have those damn wings!

He wanted them to stop. He’d do anything to make them stop. 

Warren thought about getting on to the roof and jumping. Not even flying down, just falling to his end. His end of suffering, and his loveless, lonely existence. 

“Are you going to do it?” 

Warren looked over his shoulder to find his father standing behind him. Watching him peer out the highest window in the house. 

“No! I— I’m sorry! I wasn’t—”

His father scoffed. “Did I raise a coward?”

Warren couldn’t look him in the eyes. “No sir.”

“I’ve scheduled for you to have spinal surgery next week. Your doctor is coming to prep and evaluate you for it. This surgery should fix you.”

Warren’s eyes were closed, trying not to imagine the pain, trying to not cry in front of his father. 

“Or you can fall out the window… in a freak accident.” 

“So I jumped out the window. I didn’t fall to my death as he had hoped, but I flew. I flew far away. I flew across the Atlantic for a few hours before I started to get tired. I spotted a ship and I got close. It was a fishing boat, a large one. The crew let me stay for the night until they went back to land… After that, I flew from São Miguel to Cascais. From there I just kind of fucked around Europe.” 

Warren sighed. Allison told him to take all the time he needed and he could stop if he wanted for the day. Let someone else talk. 

Warren nodded and kept quiet for the rest of the meeting. 

—

Alex picked him up when the meeting ended. Alex didn’t ask about the meeting. It wasn’t his business and he knew Warren would talk when he was ready. 

“Where do the others think I went?” Warren asked. 

“Training. They’re busy anyway, most didn’t notice you were gone.” 

Warren silently nodded. 

Alex pulled into Xavier’s garage, parking and letting Warren slip out and go up to his room. 

Warren kicked his shoes off and laid on his bed, putting in his earbuds and playing some soft songs. 

(Y/N) was heading up to Warren’s room to use his shower. She was covered in paint, for she helped clean up after the fourth graders used the art room. 

(Y/N) knocked on the door, making sure no one was there before she entered. 

Warren didn’t hear her and (Y/N) almost didn’t notice him laying on the bed. When she did, however, her entire demeanor changed. 

“Hi, Angel!” She went over to practically smother him in light kisses. 

Warren pulled out his earbuds and smiled. “Hi, Flower.”

“When did you get home?” She asked, scooting over to the open side of the bed. 

“Like ten minutes ago. What have you been up to?” 

“I got paint all over me,” (Y/N) frowned. “I was going to take a shower and wash it off.” 

“You can do that. I was just kind of laying here.” 

(Y/N) bit her lip, unsure of how to handle the situation. 

“If you disassociate your whole day will feel off. You should take a nice relaxing shower with me, instead.” 

Warren chuckled. 

“Not like that, Bird brain!” She exclaimed. “We can use one of my lush bath bombs and my rose-scented exfoliator.” 

“Are you saying I smell?” Warren joked. 

“Eh,” (Y/N) shrugged before slipping her bra off and throwing it in the hamper. 

Warren scoffed and wrapped his arms around (Y/N), peppering her neck in kisses. “How dare you!” He teased. 

“Ah!” (Y/N) laughed. Warren’s lips on her neck tickled her skin. “That’s why I’m going to bathe.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll join you.” 

(Y/N) hummed in victory, wiggling out of Warren’s grip, and headed into the bathroom to grab her stuff. 

The last time she used the girls’ communal showers was before they were even dating. (Y/N)’s toothbrush made its way into Warren and Kurt’s bathroom, then her shampoo and conditioner, and then eventually most of all her other hygiene products. 

(Y/N) set her soap and other things on the edge of the tub and drew up warm water, filling the bathtub up about halfway. 

She sprinkled in rose petals and got Warren into the bathroom. They both stripped off their clothes and stepped in the tub. A bit difficult, for Warren had to fold his wings back and get in first, with (Y/N) practically sitting in his lap, face to face, but they made do. 

(Y/N) dropped an orange bath bomb in the water and grabbed her jar of exfoliating scrub, rubbing it on her arms and legs to help remove the paint. 

Warren closed his eyes and rested his chin on her shoulder. 

“How’d it go today?” (Y/N) asked as she grabbed a bar of soap and rubbed it onto her skin. 

He didn’t respond. 

“I’m sorry…” She murmured. 

“Don’t apologize. It wasn’t terrible… I talked a little bit about my parents.” 

(Y/N) nodded as she applied her rose exfoliator onto Warren’s skin. 

“I’m really sorry…” Warren let out. He sounded as if he was on the verge of tears. 

“Baby,” (Y/N) looked into his eyes. “it’s okay.” 

“I— I just—“ Warren hiccuped, letting out a choked sob and releasing some tears from his eyes. 

(Y/N) rubbed his back, avoiding the tender spot around his wings, whispering, “Let it out, it’s okay, Angel.” 

Warren silently cried into (Y/N)‘s shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him in comfort. The emotions he felt almost made him sick— love and affection— and a lot of it too. He couldn’t remember a time before when he felt like that. He never wanted to leave (Y/N)‘s embrace. 

Warren lifted his head up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Sorry— um—“ 

“It’s okay.” (Y/N) cupped his face in her hands, leaving a kiss on each cheek. “Want me to wash your hair?” 

Warren nodded. 

“C’mere—” (Y/N) grabbed the shampoo from the bathtub ledge, pouring some in her hands, and then lathering it into Warren’s mop of curls. 

Her hands gently massaging his scalp felt like a touch of heaven to Warren. He didn’t want to cry again, but he couldn’t help himself.  (Y/N) was heartbroken at her boyfriend’s demeanor, but it was good he was letting it all out.  

She finished washing his hair and drained the tub— them both getting out— Warren holding onto (Y/N) as she gently dried them both off. 

“Thank you, He mumbled.

“Of course, Baby…”   

—

Most of their dates shifted to either being at the mansion or during the day. Warren felt bad, having to limit things for them, but (Y/N) didn’t care. 

“We can do more stuff during the day… And at night all our friends will be gone… We’ll be all alone…” (Y/N)’s tone was almost teasing. Warren had to chuckle to himself, she was doing her best to make the situation work.

His second group meeting was set a bit later in the day, around 6 pm on a Saturday. Warren told (Y/N) he probably wouldn’t be back until after dark. 

“Call me if you need me. I’ll be here—” She motioned to her empty bedroom. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” He teased.  

“You too, Baby.” 

Warren drove himself to his second group therapy meeting. Alex offered to drive again, but Warren felt bad having him taking time out of his day to drive him to group therapy. 

Not everyone who was at the first meeting was at the second one— but Warren saw some familiar faces. 

“Hey, Warren! Welcome back,” Allison greeted him. 

“Hi.” 

He took a seat near a guy in a grey hoodie with an eyebrow piercing. 

“Alright everyone, we’re going to go around, say our name, and if we have any pets. If you don’t that’s okay! You can say, what kind of animals you’re interested in. Let’s start with Collin…”

Warren zoned out for a bit until it was his turn. He didn’t have a pet, and he didn’t really have an interest in a specific animal. People made jokes about him being a bird, but he didn’t necessarily have a connection with them. 

“I don’t have a pet… My girlfriend has a lot of plants though…” 

“Ooo! What kind?” 

“Um… Almost all kinds— her mutation helps grow them and stuff…”

“That’s cool.” Someone commented.

Warren awkwardly nodded. The ice breaker continued around the circle, and when finished, Allison had some people give updates on how they had been since the last meeting, others talked about how they were feeling in general. 

“Warren—”

“Yeah?” He asked. 

“Do you want to continue talking from where you left off last week?”  

“I can, sure.” 

The floor was given to him, and Warren continued his “backstory”. 

“I ended up in Germany. Messing around, staying overnight on stranger’s couches. I tried to find work, but it was hard being almost 15 at this point and no papers… I ran into muggers and they tried to, well, rob me, but I fought back. I wasn’t very good but it got them off and away from me… I ended up in a bar… The last thing I remember was falling asleep and then waking up in a locker room of sorts. A bunch of men shouting in German, um, some in English, but basically I was told to go out into ‘the ring’. People were watching— shouting and cheering, for the other guy in the ring. He was kind of short and hairy, but he had these claws, and he could really kick ass. I barely made it out of there— I didn’t win— but I didn’t die. People enjoyed watching us. They cheered, calling him Wolve-something, and they called me, Angel.” 

“I wanted to leave, but the people running the ring gave me some money and I found a place to stay for the night… the job offers weren’t exactly lining up… so I agreed to more fights. I got really good, fighting other mutants, probably in the same situation as me, but I quickly realized, kill, or be killed…” 

Warren quickly realized people had very concerned looks on their faces. “I didn’t kill anyone! But I did beat them up pretty badly— the more fights I won the more money I got— and it was that or die… I did it for about two years before I met someone… 

I was alone at a bar, I was bruised and a bit bloody, and this girl with purple hair came up to me. She was one of the guards in the fight club— she worked for some guy named Caliban, I think. I don’t remember… Anyway, her name was Betsy. She said she’d been watching me for a while, saying my fighting was impressive but could be improved… Uh, She offered to help me out, and we went back to her place. She helped clean up the blood on me, and um, then we made out, and I spent the night… This went on for a while, she’d watch me fight and give me tips and pointers, and we’d make out and stuff…”   

“How long is, awhile?” Allison asked.

“Um, Like two-ish years? I don’t know— but um, we had this like thing going on, and I thought we were maybe dating? I dunno. But whatever we had I fucked up.”

Warren groaned as Betsy aggressively pressed her mouth against his. He had just won another fight and went back to her place to “celebrate”. 

“God, B… I love you...” 

 Betsy froze, her body tensing up. 

“What?”

Warren panicked, her face did not seem pleased. “It slipped out— I’m sorry—”

“No… You don’t mean it… We can’t be together.”

“What do you mean?” He asked. “I thought we were together.” 

“Angel— this isn’t a relationship— we just fuck while I give you some pointers on your punches.”

“I know this isn’t traditional, we don’t go out on dates—”

“You don’t love me! We’re too young— I’ll lose my job. I spend all this time one you so I don’t lose my job, you’re the best fighter—”

“You keep me trapped here?” Warren asked, slowly piecing things together. 

“It’s not like that—” She tried to explain. 

“I’ve tried to quit fighting for almost a year now! I told you I wanted to leave, and this whole time you’ve been keeping me here?” 

“You’re young and naive, and I’d lose my job, everything—” 

Warren stood up, ignoring Betsy’s excuses. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Away. Since we’re not together and I don’t love you.” Warren slammed the door behind him and headed back to the ring. He needed to let out his anger. 

—

Warren went on a winning streak— he won ten fights in a row— the feeling was borderline euphoric, the crowds cheering for their champion, Warren getting to sink someone’s teeth in or watch them fall to the ground. 

Warren was amped up for his eleventh fight— the announcer was talking about his next opponent— 

“The Incredible Nightcrawler!” 

A lanky, devil looking, blue boy fell out of a cage onto the floor of the ring. Warren circled him for a moment before meeting him on the ground. 

He wasn’t fighting, just teleporting around the cage in small bursts. 

“Fight!” Warren yelled at him. “Or they’ll kill us both!” 

The blue boy looked terrified, but he fought back when Warren attacked him. 

At one point he managed to drag Warren against the side of the electric cage, burning his wing. 

“Ah!” Warren cried out in pain. Suddenly he saw the blue devil escape from the bottom, so in a risky move, he flew up and ripped off the upper walls of the cage, and flew out. His flying was wonky and jagged for one of his wings was broken.

Warren had nowhere to go, so he went back to the one place he shouldn’t have— 

Betsy’s place. 

—

“I was drunk as shit and angry and this blue wrinkly man came with Betsy and some other girl I didn’t recognize, and he just held his hand out and metal grew out of my back and on top of my wings. I was healed, in a way, but also it kind of ruined my life. The blue man also just held his hand  out and gave me these tattoos…”

“You weren’t one of the horsemen with Apocalypse, were you? Like last spring I think… Out in Cario?” One girl in the circle asked.

“Yeah… Um, I never killed anyone, and I don’t do that anymore. The X-Men took me in and I’m trying to get my shit together.” 

“We don’t judge here, and from what I’ve heard, the X-Men do great things! Like the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man.” Others in the group murmured in agreement. 

“You’re built like a transformer dude,” The guy sitting next to him commented. 

“Thanks…” 

“I think you can do a lot of good, Warren. You’ve spent a lot of time running from your problems, but you seem like you’re grounded now… I was told you came here because you relapsed.”   

“It was an accident— I haven’t drank since.” 

“And that’s good! It can be really hard to open up and talk about your past, but you did it…”

Warren nodded along to what Allison said. 

“I think you can do even better if you acknowledge your mistakes and learn from them… and don’t be afraid, don’t push them into the back of your mind… I think— if you haven’t already— talk to your girlfriend about some of this. Doesn’t have to be a lot or all at once, but being open and honest does good in relationships.”

“Yeah, um, sounds good.” Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. He was terrified to talk about all of this with (Y/N).

She didn’t deserve the burden. (Y/N)  was this innocent, happy, light in his life. Warren didn’t want to ruin that. 

He thought (Y/N) was too good for him, and she would eventually realize that and leave him.  

But he trusted her. He trusted (Y/N) with his life. Perhaps a bit foolish, but he rarely ever felt sure about those types of things. He decided to trust his intuition.

—

Warren drove home in silence. 

He pulled into the garage and put the keys on the key rack before heading up to (Y/N)’s room. 

He didn’t even bother knocking on the door. He just walked right in and flopped onto the bed, in (Y/N)’s lap.

She was surprised, but she quickly came to her senses and tried to figure out what happened. 

“Baby?...” (Y/N) looked down at Warren’s face as she tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear. 

“I…” Warren burst into tears, all his bottled up emotions coming out at once. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Warren sat up and (Y/N) hugged him tightly. 

“I have… things… I want to tell you… about my past…” Warren scrunched his nose. 

“My parents and other stuff… but I’m scared.” He admitted.  

“Warren, baby, I’m not going anywhere. Tell me whatever you need to, whenever you feel ready, okay?” 

He slowly nodded, still crying. 

(Y/N) kissed his forehead and rubbed his back, being silent and supportive. 

“Can… Can you promise me… Promise me you won’t leave because of my past. I’ve done really bad shit and—” 

“I promise I’m not going anywhere. I mean it.” She reassured him.  

Warren wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his tears slowing down.

“Thanks…” He mumbled.

“Of course, anything for you, Angel.” 

[kelleah-meah]

So again, I watched a Youtube video on Dark Academia and decided to share my 2 cents

I'm not going to share the video this time because it doesn't really matter (It was a vid by Jack Edwards, if the mystery is killing you), but I felt compelled to take a look at the comments section to see what people were saying in response to the video.

As I suspected, it was mostly superficial comments on how the Youtuber looked, Hogwarts references, and general love/hateration on the dark academia aesthetic.

But one young person who identified themselves as a high school student who loved the aesthetic but felt very excluded from it because she's not from a wealthy background shared her thoughts on why she felt the DA aesthetic is toxic and boxes people in.

Well, I disagreed with that and thought I'd shared my perspective on it, while also being respectful of the fact that she's going through a difficult period in life, and her conclusion was likely a reflection of that.

Here's what I said:

Please feel free to ignore this, but what you said really touched me, and I feel like I can offer some advice. Just for background info, I'm an African American woman living in city that's predominantly POC. I'm also in my early 40s, and I run an arts and culture blog.

Regarding your response, might I suggest that you appreciate that no *one* person is just *one* thing. Even college professors at historic universities like Cambridge and Harvard wear blue jeans and sweatshirts, but they simply don't do so within the scope of their jobs as professors. They're not boxed in. They're simply applying one version of themselves to a specific space, while applying another version of themselves to another specific space.

That's not limiting or toxic. That's just being human. No one is a "hippie bohemian" or "trendsetting fashionista" all the time. You simply apply what works for you in that aesthetic that you like to your life where you feel it's appropriate.

I agree with you that everyone should live their lives, but the purpose of aesthetics is to feel free to explore the different aspects of you. Something you may be into today may fall by the wayside 10 years from now. And that's OK. Because you're a human being who is constantly growing, developing and exploring. It's one of the more beautiful parts of life. And goodness knows life is hard enough as it is, so why not embrace it?

As someone who lived the "dark academia life" before it was an aesthetic (we're talking the 1990s-early 00s), I never felt alienated by the dark academia world itself. I went to an upper middle class high school (not private school though) and I was surrounded by economically privileged kids who went out of their way to make me feel excluded. But the beauty of dark academia is that all the things that make it what it is are available to everyone outside of that environment.

Almost anyone can read these books if they borrowed from the library, listen to this music online or borrowed it from the library, write handwritten letters, wear clothes in a similar style but at a lower price point, go to museums (on a free day or discounted day), visit art galleries (which is usually free, and if you go during an opening reception, you also get to enjoy free wine and finger food), drink coffee (if you like coffee), write poetry, learn to play chess, study hard, and so on.

It's not the aesthetic that makes you feel excluded, it's the people you associate with it. I enjoyed many of these activities while going to an inexpensive state university on a scholarship. There were days when I dressed in ironed trousers and a nice blouse or sweater, and there were days when I wore ripped jeans and T-shirts.

We're all a work-in-progress, and you should give yourself space to do just that. For me, I studied English Lit., then went into publishing. Now I work for an art gallery, go to the theater for fun, and play jazz and classical albums on my record player. But I also wear blue jeans every day, shop at Aldi's to save money, and blast hip hop and pop music when I want to dance around my home.

Give yourself time and space. Those kids at your school may exclude you, but this aesthetic doesn't. It's for everyone if you know how to adapt it to the person you are now. Not because you're trying to be something you're not, but because you're drawn to something that brings you joy.

Just know that you're not alone, and the road ahead will be worthy of the literature I'm sure you talk about on your blog (should you ever choose to write about it). Have a great rest of your day!

[rhmg-au]

The sequel to the first one, only in the Toppats’ POV.

More will come for these two stories, but beware of major angst ;)

This AU belongs to @rhmg-au . Please follow them, reblog their art, give them fanart, support them in any way possible, etc.

TW: Killing, blood, gore, implied torture

———

Ellie was panicking.

She was extremely scared at the moment, scared that something could go wrong, scared that they could be wiped out from existence, scared that the government had already did something to Henry.

A few days ago, the leader of the Toppats orchestrated a plan to rescue the captured members. Of course, it came with risks, risks that they could be killed or taken along with them, and there’s the matter of that killer…but Henry wanted to save them, and he’ll be willing to take the fall if it meant that they were safe.

So, they went along with the plan, and it was mostly successful…mostly.

They were able to come and collect who they came for, but Henry…wasn’t so lucky.

He was captured.

Since she is his right hand lady, Ellie took the responsibility as temporary leader until they were able to bust him out, or even be permanent if…she doesn’t want to think what would happen to him now that he’s in their grasp.

If only she had gone back for him, despite his claims that he’ll be alright. God, she felt like such a failure for letting him be taken.

After what he had done for her, helping her out of the Wall, she failed to return the favour.

Her mental state wasn’t as bad as Reginald’s though…anyone would be doing better than him. Ask anyone on this space station and they’ll say the same thing as her thoughts.

What happened during the launch sequence made something inside of him snap.

And she couldn’t blame him, anyone who had to see their close friend be taken away by your enemies and you couldn’t do anything about it would be enough to shatter someone’s confidence.

She’s growing very concerned for him as the days past though…especially after Henry was captured.

She was sitting in the office, the one where the leader’s got. Stacks of papers were filling her desk, most were finished but there’s still uncompleted paperwork she has to do, and she felt like she was having a headache from them. Great power comes with great responsibility, and that quote literally defines what being the leader of the Toppat Clan is like.

She’d seen bags under Henry’s eyes from time to time, and now she’s probably going to have them too at this rate.

There was a knock on the door, causing Ellie to look away from her work. “Please come in.”

The door opened up, giving in light into the room. Sabine Setorion entered, her sky blue hair swaying despite there wasn’t any wind inside the space station, the face that contained that unhealed third-degree burn and stitched scar as well as a purple earpiece used for communications is recognizable to anyone. Another thing that made her stand out from the rest was that she had all of her limbs replaced by cybernetics, well almost all of them. The only one left is her right arm. Her spine, left arm, and legs were reconstructed with metal, similar to Right.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Ellie shook her head, swinging her chair around to face her. “You aren’t, really. What is it you want to talk about?”

Sabine shut the door behind her, blocking the light out and leaving them in near darkness again, had there not be a lampshade on the desk, or the blinds opened to showcase the stars. “About your proposal of going down to earth and saving Henry. The executives agreed on it.”

The red haired perked up at this, the meeting ended around 3 hours ago, when she proposed the idea of raiding the government to get their leader back. Not that she just wanted to not be leader anymore, she wanted Henry back safe and sound.

“This can have terrible consequences, but bringing home our family is worth the risk.”

“But we’re also gambling the lives of the rest for the others. I do want Henry back as much as you do, him being my childhood friend and all, but I don’t feel comfortable with endangering the lives of the other Toppats.” Sabine adjusted her blue top hat with a metallic band around it, feeling like it would fall off at any given moment.

“I understand your concern, but as long as we’re well prepared and everything goes smoothly, we should be able to go through without anyone falling.” Ellie stood up from her seat and placed a hand on her shoulder, in attempt at comfort.

“Well, if you’re really sure. I’m just worried is all.” Sabine smiled a little at the gesture.

“We’re in this together, no matter what comes our way.” Ellie mirrored her smile.

“We should prepare ourselves for tomorrow then, huh?”

“Alright, alright. It’s nighttime from what the clock said, so let’s head to bed.”

———

The day arrived.

Screams were heard, bullets were fired, blood was shed.

The raid began approximately ten minutes ago, when the Toppats gathered around the government base, readying their weapons and the signal Ellie would give for them to attack.

As soon as it was, the stage was set.

“The cells are there, come on!” Ellie urged the two Toppats following her, Reginald and Earrings, to where the holding cells are located.

Obviously, Reginald was onboard with the plan, it was mostly for Right rather than Henry, it was understandable. He wanted his right hand man back after weeks of separation. Ellie was feeling the exact same, except that Henry wasn’t gone for the same time period as Right was, she’s still determined to get them both back regardless of time differences. Earrings was there because of her battle functions with her earrings, she’d be a great distraction provider should the need arise.

A few soldiers stood in their way, preparing their guns to shoot at them. Earrings was quick to react as she shined her diamond earrings at them, blinding them and causing them to drop their weapons, prompting an easy victory as they overpowered the disorientated soldiers.

“I swear if they done something to Righty…” Reginald mumbled to himself, the pistol tight in his grasp as he shot the last bullet into one of the soldier’s head.

“If they did, we’ll tear this place down. I can guarantee that, isn’t that correct El?” Earrings turned to Ellie, who finished off the last military person with a kick to the gut. 

“How could I pass up that opportunity for what they did to us? Our family?” She asked, her red hair flying against the wind that came up.

“Let’s get going, before more soldiers come.” The former leader of the clan mentioned, overlooking the chaos that came with their attack.

It was horrifying to watch, to say the least. Many Toppats and soldiers charging into the fray and either getting severely hurt, killed or apprehended, that last one only applying to the clan members. It felt painful to watch, as their family get slaughtered for the sake of everyone else in the clan, or they get captured. Either of them doesn’t sit right with them.

What they’d give to stop this endless cycle of hurt.

But they weren’t going to make senseless wishes as if they would come true. They need to take matters into their own hands, things aren’t going to resolve on their own. Miracles are just myths that aren’t true and are only told to children.

Ellie and Earrings nodded quickly, the three of them going into the cells, rushing down the halls with metal bars speeding past them as they try to find their acquaintances, while also shooting down guards on their way.

They stopped at one particular cell, sitting inside was a familiar individual.

“Henry!” Said male perked up from where he’s sitting on the bed, rushing over to the bars, a smile crossing his face at the sight of seeing the clan still well.

“Ellie? Reginald? Earrings?” He questioned, as if he thought this was a dream or his mind decided to torment him with a fake promise of getting out of this enclosed space of a cell.

By the time that sentence was spoken, the door was opened by the blonde Toppat, having picklocked it while he was talking. “It is, we’ve come to bust you out.”

“Where’s Right? Is he here somewhere? Is he hurt?” Reginald immediately asked, still not relived, he’ll only be once he finds where Right is and brings him back with him safely.

Henry looked away for a moment, a face full of guilt. That didn’t mean any good. “He’s not in the cells-”

“Then where is he?!”

“He’s…been rewired.”

“What?”

“Rewired, they turned him to their side. I tried to snap him out of it, but I wasn’t able to.”

A moment of silence initiated between the four, everyone but Henry speechless. Reginald was easily the one to be the most devastated, Right working for the enemy by force…he knew the government wasn’t kind but this was insane.

“Those…heartless bastards!” He shouted suddenly, his grip on his pistol and his fist clenched so tight it made his knuckles underneath his black gloves turn to a stark white. “I can’t believe they had the will to do this! This is torture!”

“Reg, we need to keep our heads calm, being rash isn’t going to-” Ellie knew how dangerous it was to go headfirst into trouble out of sheer rage, despite she herself doing that a lot.

“We’re going to save him, take this whole place down and get the clan back to the orbital station.” Reginald’s tone of voice changed to that of commanding, stern, full of rage. At the moment, he didn’t care about anything other than Right, the clan, and taking down the government, too blinded by anger to think clearly like he usually was.

“We need one other person before we go.” Henry’s voice spoke up, getting out of the cell with the three, a revolver tossed into his hand by Ellie. “He may work for the government, but it’s clear that he’s seen just how horrible their general is.”

“But are we really going to make it out if we save him?” Reginald questioned, getting some of his composure back, but it wasn’t enough to quell his rage.

“He genuinely tried to help, I saw it all. He’s worth saving just like him.”

Before an answer could be made, a bullet shot through the air, barely missing Earrings’ arm.

The four of them turned to the guard who fired at them, and he was about to pull the trigger again when he was stabbed from behind, by a sword it seemed. The body was discarded off from the blade, revealing a bloodied faced Sabine standing there, breathing heavily.

“You need any help?”

“Nice timing there.” Earrings muttered, a sigh of relief leaving her.

“Actually, I have a proposal. You and Earrings can go find Right while the rest of us can find whoever Henry needs to look for.” Ellie suggested, looking around to see if anymore guards are coming to arrest them.

It doesn’t seem like the worst of ideas, yet it does has it downfalls.

But if that guy is really important…and if he wants to focus on his goal of finding Right…

“Very well. Come along, Earrings.” Reginald took her arm and ran down the hallway, back to where they first got into the cells.

“Who is this person you say is important?” Sabine asked, once the two are out of sight and Ellie made sure no more guards are coming in to arrest their asses.

“He is actively trying to help Right, he now sees just how horrible the general is. We need to help him, just like how he’s helping us taking back our friend.” Henry explained, gesturing with his hand for the two to follow him.

“Wait, is he out on the battlefield?” Ellie asked, running down the hall.

Henry shook his head, his expression now showcasing guilt. “No, before you guys came, I saw that bastard hit him on the head, knocking him unconscious, and dragged him away from me.” His face contorted into rage. “He’s doing something to him, I know of it.”

“We’ll get him back, and when we do, are you going to have him join the clan?” Sabine questioned, all of them now outside of the cells as they continued to follow where Henry’s heading.

“He’ll be much better off with us than that bastard, that’s for sure.” Henry responded, already having made up his mind about it. He would more than likely accept, since the experience with such an abusive asshole had an impact on him.

They soon reached a building, it was stark white on the outside, it had glass doors, revealing a white hallway behind them. It didn’t look as bright as it could have been, since the sky was a dark grey, it didn’t quite captured the full beauty of the construction as the clear day and sunlight did.

“This is the place where he’s taken to?” Ellie questioned, shooting a soldier who tried to attack them.

“Yeah, he told me about this yesterday, a lab. I believe this is where he is.” Henry answered, pushing open the glass doors to allow them to enter.

“And if it’s not?”

“Then we keep searching until we find him.”

They ran down the white hallway, stopping at two other doors that are made of plastic, or some other material. The windows giving them a little sneak peak inside, an operating table was there, multiple types of equipment were there, and something looked like it was raising above the floor as if it was being consumed but it got stuck halfway through the ground.

Soon, they were treated to the full version. It wasn’t too different to an average lab, but the technology there and the lifted up piece in the floor was different than a regular lab.

The group looked at one another, nodding in unison. There was only one way to settle their suspicions, well more of Henry’s but you get the point.

They quickly headed down the stairs, an opened door at the end.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they saw who was in the room.

General Galeforce, Dr. V and two other people in chairs, seemingly strapped down to them, dried blood, cuts, bruises, and a torn uniform were seen.

Immediately, Henry held up his revolver, a dark glare on his face now. “Let them go, now.”

Sabine let her eyes wander to the blonde woman, hers and Dr. V’s eyes widening when they recognize who the other was.

“Sabine?”

“Mother?”

[officialscaramouche]

Companions

pairing: Chongyun x Xingqiu

summary: After being transported to ten years in the future, Xingqiu finds the harbor in disarray. Desperate to find answers, he sought out his best friend, Chongyun, to no avail. Chongyun's home, too, is found falling apart and Xingqiu realizes that his friend is gone as well. He takes the opportunity to reminisce by going through Chongyun's room when a strange man wearing the exorcist clan's colors walks in.

warnings: none

word count: 4,522

also posted on ao3!

Ch. 2 of 5 < prev | next >

Xingqiu looks at the back of the stranger in front of him. They’re tall, about as tall as his older brother. His shoulders aren’t broad, but they’re wider than the average. The man wore a pristine, white Wudang robe with a strikingly familiar navy blue clan banner that hung beneath the shirt. He donned a hood that loosely hung from his head, blue and gold trim that lined the outfit. “Your wear…” Xingqiu hushed, stepping forward slightly and reaching out subconsciously. “These colors...the pattern...why do you wear them?”

The man turned to look over his shoulder slightly, his hood hiding all but his nose that peeked out from behind the fabric. “Because it is mine.” He says curtly, turning back to face the inside of the drawer.

“Are you a fanboy?” The stranger asked after a moment.

Xingqiu was taken off guard, pulling his hand back. “Of the Taoist exorcist clan? No—”

“No, of Xingqiu. The author of the Cursed Claymore series.” The man pulled out a box and placed it gently on the table. He tinkered with the locking mechanism for a moment before popping it open and pulling objects out.

“What? I am Xingqiu. Heir to Feiyun Commerce. Apprentice of the Guhua Martial Arts Clan.” The man stilled, his hands halting their search within the box. He turned, fully this time, facing Xingqiu. The boy couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Feiyun Commerce went under almost half a decade ago. And the Guhua Clan is extinct.”

Xingqiu placed a hand over his mouth, tears welling in his eyes as he was hit by a surge of turbulent emotions. “Y-You!”

“This is not funny, fanboy. I know Xingqiu personally. He would never trespass into my family’s home like this!”

Xingqiu sticks a thumb into his chest. “I am Xingqiu! Heir to Feiyun Commerce and apprentice to the G-Guhua...Believe me! I don’t know what’s going on! Chongyun, you have to help me get back home!”

The man takes a defensive stance, pointing harshly at the scholar. “How do you know my name?!”

“Because I am Xingqiu! Your best friend, Xingqiu!”

“Quit playing with me! What do you mean by ‘home?!’ Your home at the harbor is gone!”

“I mean that I was reading this book and then— and suddenly, I was here! Not home! Liyue Harbor was normal! I had just left home, I just spoke with my father! I was waiting for you, and then— please! I don’t know!”

The older, battle-worn Chongyun lowered his shoulders, his eyes sharp as he watched Xingqiu closely. “This book— let me see it.” Xingqiu meekly extends the book forward, Chongyun swiping it roughly from his hands. The exorcist begins flipping through it carefully, his eyes scanning the pages.

Fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, Xingqiu watched nervously. “I-I don’t know what it says. I can’t read it…”

“This is enochian,” Chongyun states as he continues to read the book.

“You can read it?”

“No. But I recognize it. Many evil spirits use enochian to communicate with the living, but it’s mostly used for demonic practices.” Xingqiu swallows, looking to his fingers as he toyed with them nervously. “Where did you get this?”

“Ah...Wanwen this morning.”

“The bookstore? Near the tea house?”

“Yeah, my favorite one.”

Chongyun eyed Xingqiu suspiciously before returning to the book. “I can see why you called this a diary.”

Xingqiu perked up, walking towards the exorcist, grabbing onto his arm to peer over onto the pages. “What can you read?”

Chongyun grimaces at the sudden intrusive touch, but points to the book. “It’s written from the author’s point of view. Here it’s talking about meeting with a medium. Something about someone dying. But it could be anybody. In my experience, this demon only seems to seek out exorcists and mediums.”

Xingqiu pouts, furrowing his brows. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Chongyun shoves Xingqiu off his arm and closes the book, pressing it into the scholar’s chest. “I don’t know, you tell me, fanboy.”

“I’m telling you! This is the custom-made outfit that I got measured for back when I learned I was to be the heir!”

Chongyun smirks and crosses his arms. “You know your stuff. I wonder where you read that.”

Xingqiu stomped his foot and shook his finger in Chongyun’s face. “I’m serious!!”

Chongyun rolled his eyes and turned back to look into the box he found. “Okay ‘Serious,’ help me look for something.”

Xingqiu sat back on the bed and crossed his legs, turning his nose upward. “No.”

Chongyun sighed and dropped his head. “Maybe you really are Xingqiu because nobody’s got an attitude like him.” Xingqiu smiled proudly to himself at the half-insult. “But fine. You’d only get in my way anyways.”

“No! I can help!”

“I don’t want your help.”

Xingqiu skipped over to the exorcist and peered into the box. “What are you looking for?”

“Some lecture notes. The last time I was here I had to quickly seal everything up.” The older man gives Xingqiu a knowing look. “But I figured that since it’s already broken I might as well look for what I need.”

“Lecture notes? Why?”

“Because this is no normal you hun ye gui. And...frankly I didn’t pay attention to my lectures. Ugh, it’s not here.” Chongyun slammed the box shut and moved over to his bookshelf, noting the adult novel laying on the floor. Chongyun gave Xingqiu a glare, but the scholar looked away and whistled, pretending to not notice.

Chongyun pulled out some textbooks and journals. He flipped through them hurriedly, throwing them to the side haphazardly when they proved of no import. “You should treat those texts a little better,” Xingqiu tutted, picking up the books and dusting them off, placing them gently on the drawer.

Chongyun rolled his eyes. “‘You should treat those books better,’” he mocked.

“When did you get so grumpy.”

“I’ve always been grumpy. I just never voiced it when I was a kid.”

Xingqiu crossed his arms. “No, you’re not grumpy. And you have a pretty fine time expressing your feelings to me.”

Chongyun stood, dropping the last notebook to the floor after learning nothing about what he needed. “You think you know it all, don’t you fanboy?” Chongyun pushed past the young scholar and stalked out of the room.

“Hey!” Xingqiu shouted out, running after the exorcist. “Where are you going?”

“To the study,” Chongyun replies, not looking back as he made his way down the stairs. Xingqiu follows behind him, quickly making his way down, watching Chongyun turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs.

Xingqiu was a little giddy. He’d never seen the clan’s study before but Chongyun always complained that it was ‘too big’ and had ‘too many books to read,’ so he imagined it was a second heaven for him right after Wanwen. Boy was he wrong.

It was better than he imagined. He watched as Chongyun pushed the heavy wooden door, the bottom scraping the planks of the floor. “Stupid door,” Chongyun hissed, kicking it. Xingqiu walked in with large glassy eyes, his mouth hanging open. “Close your mouth before you breathe in too much dust,” Chongyun said, wiping his nose with his shirt after sneezing.

“This collection is incredible!” Xingqiu looked the walls up and down. The walls were made of inset shelves. The only space not lined with books was where the two small circular windows sat. Even the floor was littered with books, as the shelves were all fully stacked with two or three rows of tomes laying on each shelf. “You read all of these?”

“Unfortunately,” Chongyun sneers, pulling up a wooden stool. “Can’t say I remember any of them that I don’t practice.”

Xingqiu climbed the nearby ladder and began to run his fingers down each spine. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come over more!”

“They’re boring. And these books are only used for studying exorcism. My dad wouldn’t have let you in anyways.” Chongyun slams a book onto the desk below him. “Ugh, not here either…”

“I would’ve paid him to let me— wait so you believe me now?”

“About what?”

“That I’m the real Xingqiu.”

Chongyun laughs. “Oh, no. But it’s nice to pretend.” Chongyun gets down from the stool and walks around, eyeing the titles of the books he walks past. “I haven’t spoken to Xingqiu in almost a year.”

Xingqiu looks back to Chongyun, a frown on his face. “Why not?”

“Hm. We’re both busy. We both have lives.”

“But I love spending time with you.”

Chongyun pulls out another book and flips it open. “You also have a career. Like I do.”

Xingqiu jumps down the ladder and meanders over to the exorcist. “Can you tell me about myself? Like what I’m doing now?”

Chongyun points to the ladder. “No. Help me look, please.”

Xingqiu stomps his foot. “Why! I just want to know!”

“Because you should know already, fanboy. I’m looking for anything on the topic of guidance talismans, unique talismans, stubborn demons, and demons that don’t kill. Well, don’t kill normally.”

Xingqiu huffs and rolls his eyes, walking to a random shelf to start looking for any book that hints at any of those topics. “You’re bossy.”

“And you’re annoying.”

Xingqiu stares blankly at the books in front of him. “Do you mean that?”

“Absolutely.” Chongyun turns from the shelf and walks to the desk, opening the drawers.

“Have you always thought of me like that?”

Chongyun stops, purses his lips and stares at the ceiling. “No, Xingqiu was never annoying to me. But you, you’re annoying.”

“I am Xingqiu!”

“Whatever.”

The two search for books in silence for a period before Chongyun breaks the silence. Xingqiu has a small stack of books that might have something important. “Aha!” Chongyun slaps a small scrap of paper onto the desk. “Fanboy, come see this.”

Xingqiu picks up his stack of books and trudges over to the desk. “What is it? Who drew that? It’s horrible.”

Chongyun flicks the scholar. “I did.” He flattens out the wrinkled paper. “It’s the talisman I’m looking for. It’s a guidance talisman. They’re very rare and very difficult to make. It takes a master exorcist to make one, and most masters can’t make one.”

“Are you a master exorcist?”

“No...my mom was, though. The strongest in my family...but not even she could make one.”

“What do you need it for?”

Chongyun grabs the book at the top of Xingqiu’s stack, pushing it to the side after reading the title. He picks up the next, and does the same thing. “Do you have Demons, Deities, and the Paranormal? By Po Lang.”

Xingqiu looks at the books quickly. “No, let me look.”

Chongyun grabs his wrist. “No, it’s okay. The you hun ye gui is a lost soul. They’re easy to quell when you know who the soul is and what keeps them here with the living. But this you hun ye gui has been lost for a long time. I doubt any of its relatives are alive or remember who it was. Without that person’s belongings or without knowing what it wants, I can’t send the soul on to the afterlife. I need a guidance talisman to guide it.”

Xingqiu looks at the books he has and opens the one he has on talismans. “Have you encountered this demon already?”

Chongyun crumples the paper in his fist and hangs his head. “Yes...for a very brief moment.”

Xingqiu looks at the exorcist with worry. “Is that when…”

“Yes. I was coming home from a job in Sumeru...I hadn’t seen my family in months. My mom wrote me a letter saying that she’d make my favorite food when I got home. I was looking forward to it.” Chongyun chews his lip, fighting back tears. Xingqiu stood in silence. “When I got here, my cousin Lam was the only one alive...it killed him as soon as I saw them. I chased after it, but it feared my yang energy and got away. I didn’t want to go too far, anyways. My family was scattered across the yard.”

Xingqiu looks out the window and eyes the freshly dug mounds. Chongyun must’ve buried them, he thinks. “I-I’m sorry, Chongyun…” Xingqiu wiped the tears that streamed down his cheeks.

“You just missed it. This was, what, not even a week ago?”

“And that’s why you’re looking for it, right?”

“Yes. I need to send that demon on. It already tormented the harbor. Everyone fled three years ago.”

“Ah...that’s why it’s empty.”

“And that’s why my family stayed here. This you hun ye gui is stuck in this area. It won’t go anywhere else. The harbor was always a lively area, there’s no way I’d be able to find the one thing it wants.”

“If there isn’t anything here, what can we do to stop the demon?”

Chongyun looks towards the windows in thought. “There’s a library Xingqiu told me about near Wangshu Inn. Very well-hidden. He said he found volumes of very specific, niche topics. Maybe we can find something there?”

Xingqiu nodded, pushing the rest of the books in his stack to Chongyun. “Here’s what I’ve found so far. Look at these, I’ll keep looking.”

Xingqiu climbed back up the ladder and began pulling books one by one, reading the title, checking for an index, and reading a little bit of each text. Chongyun watched the young scholar for a moment, chuckling, before inspecting the books in front of him.

Chongyun kicked the heavy door again as he walked in, throwing back the cup in his hand. “Here,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tapping Xingqiu’s shoulder with the other cup in his hand.

“Ah, thank you,” Xingqiu grins, dabbing his sleeve onto his forehead, gathering the sweat there.

“Really, you can stop now. I accepted a commission in that area, so we have to go anyway.” Chongyun leaned back on the desk and crossed his feet, taking another sip from his drink.

Xingqiu dropped the book in his lap dramatically and slouched forward, letting out a loud throaty groan. “I’m finally onto something, I swear!”

“Look at you!” Chongyun gestured vaguely to the mess that Xingqiu sat in: scrolls rolled out in every direction, open books stacked on other opened books, a stain in the wood where he spilled the ink pot, his shoes and socks off and discarded in different corners of the room. “Get up, we gotta go.”

Chongyun hooked his arms underneath Xingqiu’s pits and dragged him to the door. “No! I’ve a lead!”

“Ah!” Xingqiu tripped over himself for possibly the hundredth time this afternoon. Chongyun grabbed a firm hold on the young boy’s forearm before he fell and split his head open.

Pushing the scholar forward, Chongyun smacked the back of his head. “I told you to stop kicking rocks! Quit it, you’re like a child!”

“I am a child!” Xingqiu slaps the exorcist pathetically in the chest. He furrows his brow and looks Chongyun up and down, pulling his hand back hesitantly before gently pushing back again.

“What.” Chongyun growls, grabbing Xingqiu’s wrist.

“Hm. You’re...firm.” The boy turns on his heels and proudly stomps away.

Chongyun smiles, albeit confused, and checks the ad he picked up on a bulletin. Please! I need someone to free me from the terror! Six hilichurls have made camp along my route in the Guili Plains! Halfway to Wangshu Inn, near the ruins! Chongyun looked at his surroundings. “Hey--”

Xingqiu widely swung his arms as he walked. “Do you think I can grow muscle? How did you get your muscles?” Chongyun wrapped an arm around Xingqiu’s waist and half-threw the boy off the road. Xingqiu rolled in the loose dirt, hitting his head on the ground. “Hey!” He shouted, rubbing the back of his head. “Why��d you--” Above him, Chongyun held a wide stance, his back hunched as he held up his claymore.

Chongyun’s clan’s banner blew gently, the blue and gold contrast beaming off the sunlight. “Stay down! The commission--” A hilichurl leapt out from a nearby bush, holding it’s fists high above it’s head. Chongyun quickly held up the side of his blade, blocking the attack. “Eugh!”

Chongyun swings his blade to the side, shoving the hilichurl aside. Chongyun jumps, slamming down his blade onto the hilichurl. It dodges with a roll, and leaps once more toward Chongyun. It tackles him, encouraging the other hilichurls to jump from hiding. “Chongyun!” Xingqiu darts out and unsheathes his sword, striking one of the hilichurls on top and pinning it to the ground. It squirms beneath him as Xingqiu holds it down with a foot, pulling the blade out of the hilichurl’s chest, and piercing it’s skull. Behind him, Chongyun grunts, grabbing his attention.

Chongyun swings his claymore upwards, sending a gust of icy wind that sends the hilichurls’ bodies hurling. Of the four, three lay motionless on the ground. The remaining one weakly crawls away, grasping for grains of dirt for support. Chongyun lugs his claymore over his shoulder as he stalks over to the last hilichurl. He raises his claymore by the hilt with both hands, bracing himself with a wide foot stance. Xingqiu looks away when Chongyun plunges the blade downwards.

The hilichurls begin to dissipate one by one, turning into black and red dust. Xingqiu places both hands on the ground to support him as he stood up. Chongyun stepped up in front of the boy and extended a hand to help him to his feet. “Thanks for your help.”

Xingqiu sheaths his sword and dusts off his shorts. “You still use the same claymore.”

With a wave of his hand, Chongyun’s blade vanishes. “Are you still trying to convince me that you’re really Xingqiu?”

“No,” Xingqiu sorted his messy hair, slipping his long bangs out of his face. “I just thought you’d use the one your mom gave you.”

Chongyun lowers his gaze as he thinks of the birthday gift. His mother gave him her favorite sword when he finally donned the title of exorcist and was able to do jobs on his own. “It means too much to me,” he explains. “I ended up giving it to you to take care of.”

Xingqiu puts a finger to his chin. “Me?”

Chongyun smiled shyly, scratching his neck. “Ahem, Xingqiu I mean. He doesn’t go out much anymore.” The exorcist waved his hand forward. “Come on, let’s start looking for the library.”

Xingqiu beams, eyeing the exorcist knowingly. “Where did I say this library was?”

“Uh, near some ruins. It was hard to understand him because he was really excited.”

Xingqiu puts his fists on either hip. “I am so smart and I know everything!”

“Except how to shut up and be helpful!”

Xingqiu covered the sun from his eyes with a hand, peering into the distance. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

Chongyun opened his map and turned it every which way. “Sure. I’ll humor you this time.”

“Do I have a girlfriend?”

Chongyun turns and glares at the boy. “Really?” Xingqiu nodded expectantly. Sighing, Chongyun put a hand on his waist and looked to the sky in thought. “Not right now— he did before, though, when he first inherited the company.”

Xingqiu jumped up and grabbed Chongyun’s hand. “Was she pretty? What’s her name! Why did we break up?”

Chongyun pulled his hand back and laughed. “She was alright, but he thought she was pretty. That’s all that mattered.” Xingqiu waited expectantly for him to continue. “Uh...he was too busy to have a relationship. She wanted all of his time but he didn’t have any to give her. He hasn’t dated since. He says he’s just not interested.”

Xingqiu puffs his cheeks in a pout. “That’s lame! Are you sure he’s the real me?”

“Are you sure you’re the real Xingqiu? He’s more mature than he was before. Besides, he likes his solitude now.”

Xingqiu stomps his feet as he walked on, Chongyun closely behind. “I bet I wished you came over more.”

Chongyun rolled up his map and slapped the back of Xingqiu’s head. “He understands that I’m busy. Now enough, we have to find this library. Keep an eye out for a camp so I can collect this commission. It’s weird, though, that there were only five hilichurls. The ad said six.”

Xingqiu, walking a bit ahead, points to the distance. “What’s going on over there?”

“Huh?” Chongyun squints to see further.

“It looks like...a man? And—”

“And the you hun ye gui!!”

Chongyun breaks into a sprint, summoning his claymore once more into his right hand. “W-Wait!” Xingqiu scrambles as he chases after the exorcist.

The book didn’t describe the you hun ye gui— at least, what he could read. So he wasn’t sure what it would look like...but he was terrified. The demon was huge, standing three feet taller than the man there, and as wide as half a house. The demon was dark brown and black, with bright yellow eyes. Horns stuck out of its head, claws growing out of its fingers. He felt himself tremble as he got closer.

He watched as the demon swiped its right hand and knocked the man back, throwing him to the side. Chongyun let out a feral shout as he threw his claymore over his shoulder to swing it forward with a mighty force. “Ch-Chongyun! Be careful!”

The demon looks at Chongyun and roars, shaking the ground with its strength. But, after sensing the overwhelming amount of yang energy, the demon runs away instead of staying to fight the exorcist. “You bitch! Come here!” Chongyun stops abruptly before the man laying on the ground and watches the demon take off over the hills. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Chongyun bites to himself, kneeling down to check the man’s wounds. “Are you alright?”

Xingqiu stumbles up to the two, panting. “Chongyun…” he breathes. “Please be careful!”

“It ran away! Like a coward!”

“Still!”

The man on the ground coughs up blood, groaning in pain. Xingqiu pulls his hair behind his ears and kneels down. “We’re gonna help you, stay still—”

“No,” the man waves his hand frantically. “I’m not going to make it. Please—”

Chongyun cradles the man’s head as he lays him down. “Where are you hurt?”

“Really, I don’t want the help!”

“Who are you?” Xingqiu asks, pressing two fingers to the man’s wrist.

“My name is Zhang Wei, I’m a medium.”

Chongyun quirks an eyebrow and fishes into his pocket. Xingqiu smiles warmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Zhang Wei. I’m Xingqiu, heir to Feiyun--”

Chongyun hangs the ad in front of Zhang Wei’s face. “Zhang Wei, I completed your commission, I ask for pay.”

Zhang Wei laughs, raising his brows at the exorcist. “I have no money.” Chongyun scowls and stands, balling his fists at his side. “You’re an exorcist. You know why I have no money, boy. Look, you’re desperate for some too.”

Chongyun crumples up the ad and throws it at the medium. “Don’t hang ads if you can’t pay for the job.” The exorcist turns to walk away, stopping before taking the first step. He fists his pocket and takes out a small satchel. He throws it to the scholar. “Herbs. For the pain.”

Xingqiu looks at the little mesh satchel, tied with a blue silk ribbon. He finds it nostalgic despite never seeing it before. He unties the satchel, ushering for Zhang Wei to show him the wound. “It won't hurt for much longer,” he sings, rubbing the herbal paste on his wounds.

Xingqiu turns in circles, scanning the orange horizon for Chongyun. “Chongyun!” He calls out, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Chongyun!!” Xingqiu made his way to the top of a hill for a better vantage point; from there he spots Chongyun sitting around some rocks looking at the sunset. “There you are,” he sighs, skipping down the hill.

Chongyun stared at his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked to the side when he heard Xingqiu’s delicate footsteps. Xingqiu takes a seat by his feet. “Are you deaf now, too?” He chides, elbowing his leg.

“Sorry,” Chongyun breathes, turning his head away.

“Oh, no I was just joking.”

“No, I’m sorry for leaving you behind. First when I saw the you hun ye gui, and again when Zhang Wei had no money for me.”

Xingqiu gently rubs Chongyun’s arm. He flinches a little, but lets him touch him. “Don’t worry about it! You chased after the you hun ye gui because you’re upset. I can tell that you’re a little more accepting of your emotions. It was hard to tell what you were feeling back when you and I were the same age.”

“No, it’s not that…” Chongyun trails off, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Xingqiu presses. “I may not be the real Xingqiu anyways.”

Chongyun snorts, rolling his head to the side. “You’re a damn good fanboy, you know that?” Xingqiu grins, entertaining his older friend.

“Come on, tell me.”

“Ah, fine.” Chongyun slides off the rock and sits beside Xingqiu on the grass, staring into the setting sun. “The advice Xingqiu gave me...when we were younger. You know, about my yang energy. Instead of trying to reduce my yang energy, I should find a demon that’s immune to it.” Xingqiu nods. “Well...I did. It had been years after I was already considered a full-fledged exorcist. We were both grown adults at this point. I...got too confident. And I got really hurt. It left me...unable to work. I had to stay home in bed and rest.” Xingqiu frowns as he watches Chongyun talk, observing his expressions and listening to the tone of his voice. “This time, you were too busy for me. I kept asking for you to come by but you were always doing something. I was just so bored by myself in the bed.” Chongyun stops to chuckle. “The one time you came by, it was for fleeting minutes. You simply said hello, apologized for not coming over more, and gave me medicine. The same medicine you gave to Zhang Wei…”

“Well, if you needed it, why didn’t you use it!” Xingqiu puffed out his cheeks. “I oughtta have a talk with me!”

Chongyun ruffled Xingqiu’s hair playfully. “It’s okay. I like seeing him busy. I like knowing that he’s happy and not bored. But still...I do miss him. And that’s why I kept it instead, because I don’t get to see him often.”

Xingqiu stood abruptly. “Let’s go see me.”

“Huh?” Chongyun looked up at Xingqiu with a surprised look.

Xingqiu bent down and picked up Chongyun’s hand. “Come on! Where do I live?”

Chongyun unwillingly got up, slouching meekly as Xingqiu dragged him forward. “But let’s look for the library first.”

Xingqiu pulled the exorcist’s arm. “We can ask me about it when we get there!”

[funkyfreshramblings]

A Story Twenty Years in the Making

CW: Swearing, sex, transphobia (Look, I'm not proud of who I was).

Shortly after I was born, a cousin of mine was as well. My mother took me to a store where she looked to buy a dress for her new niece to celebrate her birth. A woman stopped and looked at my mother, baby Devon in the stroller, dress in her hand, and curiously spoke up.

"Excuse me miss, but you know that you have a boy, right?" The woman shopping, presumably for her own daughter, had said to my mother.

"Of course I know I have a son. What about it?" My mother said in response.

"Well, that's a dress you're holding. Why would you be buying that for your son?" The woman puzzled.

My mother, quick as a whip and smarter than most people I know today, responded without a second thought.

"I'm letting him experiment with his sexuality."

---

At twelve (12) years old, I became aware of this really weird website. You see, everyone was talking about it, a schoolyard rumour we didn't dare to talk about in front of the teachers. The mythical status of this website was nothing to scoff at, students would huddle around and talk about their findings. It was like an ARG, a new puzzle added every day. The school was rife with these conversations, and everyone was hooked.

I'm of course talking about Pornhub.

Obligatory "don't go on Pornhub unless you're the legal viewing age in your country" aside (even though I'm aware those warnings stop nobody), I too became a curious mind. One day, when my parents had slipped out of the house and I was alone, I pulled it up on my computer upstairs. What I say fascinated me, women and men having sex.

Sex. Woah. Penises, vaginas, anuses. There was everything on this website. Everything. Including this one tab which I didn't dare click.

This one category had what appears to be two men on it. I assumed it was two men, after all neither of them had pronounced breasts like all the women had. And the title of the category? Gay. 'What the fuck does that mean?' twelve-year-old (12) me thought. I ignored it, thought it was weird, and continued on.

In the back of my mind, I was curious. A few weeks after watching straight porn and being mostly repulsed by how awful the women screamed in those videos, I tried it. I clicked on the category tab and was immediately hit with my first exposure to the gay community.

'Twink? Bear? Fisting? Now that's nasty.' I was curiously disgusted but clicked on anyways. "Twinks" looked cute, so I clicked there. Wait, cute? Did I really think these guys were cute? Like I thought my girlfriend was cute?

The video was, simply put, less aggressive than straight porn. Holy shit was straight porn aggressive. It terrified me how much those women screamed like the men were killing them by inserting their penises too far into their bodies. But gay porn looked softer. It was sweeter, with more love. After all, sex is about love, right? Forgive my younger self, you see. He clearly did not understand that nothing in porn is about love. But hey, when working with a half deck, you have to make the cards work.

So I watched gay porn over straight porn. That doesn't mean I'm gay! But wait, if gay porn is between two men, what is porn between a woman and a man. What's porn between two women? Never mind, I'm not that curious about two women together.

A quick Google search sent me down the most soul-searching adventure I'd ever partake in. At least, up until this point.

I soon learned what gay meant, what straight meant, what lesbian meant. You mean boys liking other boys was normal? Girls can like other girls? Wait, you can like boys and girls?

Oh, wait, you can also not be sexually attracted to anyone.

Asexual was a term I first read those years ago, and I soon thought that it described me. See, up until this point, women never interested me sexually. I was twelve (12). Sex really never crossed my mind, even when it was supposed to. But I was watching porn, I thought!

Doesn't matter. I didn't want to be part of those acts. That's what made me ace, I thought.

My lord was I wrong. (Not about ace people, but about my identity. This is where things get juicy. And chuddy.)

---

Okay, so cut to two years later. I'm fourteen (14), in grade ten (10) during Art class. One of my friends sat beside me, my ex across from me, and I hated Art class. Why'd I taken this god-awful course again? Regardless, as I sat there and thought, I thought about my bullying up until high school.

I filled out as a kid. I mean that literally, I grew tall and wide really quickly. No one fucked with me when I was in high school. No one wanted to, and I faded to the background.

But in elementary school, I was the new kid. Backing up to 2009, eight-year-old (8) Devon moved. I would celebrate my ninth (9th) birthday in a class where no one knew me or no one cared. Well, that's not true. One kid cared. Bless that kid. Regardless, 9-year-old (9) me had a target on his back. A big one, and it quickly meant I was being bullied.

My mother is terrifying. I use bold there because I don't think italics can describe just how terrifying mama-bear is when she's angry. After finding out that I was being bullied, she pulled into the school and chewed out the principal. And the parents. And the kids. Hell hath no fury like a mother who went through the shit mine did. So quickly the bullying died down.

Stopped? No, but quieted. My new friends surrounded me in a wonderful bubble of love, but that didn't mean they also didn't pick on me. The most common insult? Gay.

Gay? Like, porn gay? No no no, I said. I'm not gay.

Cut back to 14-year-old (14) me, thinking throughout Art class. I swear Ms. Taylor had it out for me. Oh, right, gay.

'Holy shit.' I thought.

'Wait. They're right, I'm gay. I like men. Holy shit I really like men. Men are hot, and I want to be with one so bad. But I live in this crap town of conservatives (my parents taught me right, conservatives are some of the shittiest people on the planet after all).'

Okay, so I'm gay. I figured that out at the very least! Now I have to tell people.

Oh. Fuck. I have to tell people.

Coming out. Hell, as I like to call it. First to my friends. My friends would understand, after all, I had a pansexual friend. What the fuck does pansexual mean? Never mind that Devon, focus on your own damn self for a second.

Oh. My. God. I have to tell people.

I pulled up my big boy pants and blurted out in the middle of class...

Nothing. What did you expect?

I waited 'till the next morning. That made sense.

---

"Hi, Sierrah!" I said to my colourful friend. Her hair was always a different colour every month and still is. I wish I had half the hair strength she must have.

"Hey, Devon!" She said, blue backpack on her back, meeting up with me to walk to school in the morning.

"I have something to tell you. I'm gay." She looked at me and squealed before wrapping me in a big hug.

"I'm so proud of you!" Okay, one down. A lot more to go.

My best friend in high school used to be someone who I absolutely despised. We bonded over our shared dislike of our shared ex. We became really close. Telling him was pretty easy. Okay, two down.

Remember that girl I sat beside during Art? Not my ex, the one I bonded with my best friend over disliking, I meant the girl sitting beside me. Well, let me tell you.

No one can give me a reception nearly half as good as what she did when I told her.

"Sara, I'm gay," I said. Less than five (5) seconds later, my face was buried in the tits of Sara. That was... fun. Not sexual in the slightest, it was fun. She was warm, and she loved me. I could tell that as a friend, Sara would become the most important person in my life. Thank you, Sara. Should you ever read this.

I hope someone reads this.

Anyone?

Moving on, I eventually told all my friends that day. None of them gave a shit! Cool!

My parents.

Oh no. My parents were next.

I'm skipping that part, it's no longer relevant.

Sorry. (Not sorry in the slightest.)

---

So I graduated the gay kid of 2018. Yay! Seventeen-year-old (17) me made it to grad!

But before I did, I need to preface this part of the story. I was, unfortunately, a fan of Soygon of Asskad. And Blairina Weiss.

Shame. Shame. Shame. Not a day goes by where I'm not sorry for my actions during this period of my life. I am so profusely sorry for the racism and transphobia I perpetuated during this period of my life. I was even homophobic. God damn it, Devon, what the fuck are you doing?

I am now a proud socialist. University helped. So did Vaush, and BadBunny (who's chat might be reading this. Henlo Nicole! Henlo chat!).

Scream at me about Vaush later.

Okay, where was I? Right, grad. University applications.

I made it into the University of Toronto Mississauga. Canada's best university. One of the best universities in the world. Holy shit, I should be more proud of myself for that. I am proud. I made it there, and as I write this, I'm on my last year.

Here's to me becoming a med student soon, I hope!

So school happened. I went to school as a shy gay kid with undiagnosed anxiety problems. That wouldn't last, and soon my anxiety was written in the prescriptions I was handed over the counter for Lexapro. This is where I met my first friend from university.

He will remain unnamed for legal reasons.

He introduced me to one of the most beautiful men I've met to this date.

S. (Name redacted for reasons you need not know. Not legal reasons. Personal ones. Please respect this decision.)

Woah, was this guy just... hot. He was an athlete, no way he'd like me. He probably also sleeps around, and I don't want that.

Boy was I wrong. I soon found out that S was very much into me. I was someone's crush. Wow!

That eventually turned into a... relationship. You get the gist. Affirmation.

I was very, very gay. S helped me understand that I was very very gay.

Okay, so eighteen-year-old (18) Devon was gay. That was very clear.

So that's the end of the story, right?

No.

We just crossed the halfway point.

---

Cut to twenty (20). I am gay, an active chatter in BadBunny's (Twitch streamer, not singer) discord, and really really confused.

See, progressive streamers like BadBunny typically have features to add yourself to a role on Discord that would tell everyone your pronouns when they clicked on your profile. This is a really good way to affirm pronouns of everyone, so I'm down.

Well, I do have one problem. Any/all isn't listed here. Wait.

Wait...

Any? All?

Why do I feel like this?

I'm cis. Let me make that clear. I am cisgendered. I identify as a man, I was born a man, and I think I will always be a man. I think.

But I know pronouns don't necessarily tell you someone's gender. They is a really popular pronoun for all sorts of non-binary identities, all of which are different from each other. So pronouns do not equal gender.

Can I really use they/them, she/her, he/him, fae/faer, fawn/fawn, etc/etc. all while being cis? I think so, let's try it! I don't know how to describe my gender, all I know is I'm apathetic to my pronouns.

Cut to a TikTok video. I learned my fucking gender identity from a TikTok video. This is why representation is important.

"Gender Apathy" we're the words coming from this person's mouth. She? He? Them? Didn't matter, they didn't care. I didn't care.

We didn't care.

Holy fuck.

---

Google has been a really important resource for me as an academic student. Wikipedia articles affirm my suspicions before I move onto Google Scholar to look up articles.

I'm fucking kidding.

Fuck Google Scholar.

But Google did introduce me to the world of fandom wikis.

Is gender wiki a thing? LGBTQ+ wiki?

As it turns out, it is.

Gender Apathy is an article there, as well as many many other identities. If you're question, do some keyword searches. You'll never know what you find.

Anyways, Gender Apathy. Cisapathetic, which I kind of interpret as someone who identifies as cisgender but doesn't really care? I guess? This is all still confusing, but whatever. Cisapathetic.

I quickly shared this with all my friends. I found something new out!

But we aren't done yet.

---

Cut to a little while later. It's Pride month, 2021. This month, if you happen to read this as soon as it goes up! Someone on TikTok is making Pride moths.

Fucking TikTok.

Moths were, at one point, a really popular meme online. Lämp. Gen Z humour will be the end of us all.

So naturally, people found a love for moths. Great, that's lead us to this point. I notice during these videos that these moths are pretty. I want one, or rather, two.

I want the modern Pride moth. The trans flag and a black and brown stripe were included on this modern Pride flag to signal that BIPOC are central to Pride, and need to be celebrated and that our trans friends need our help. Need our platform. Need our rights too.

And I wanted the Gender Apathetic moth. After all, it was something new I discovered! Well, I noticed something in the comments while I was requesting a Gender Apathetic moth from this creator (they were open to suggestions, so please don't heckle me about it). One commenter said the words "are you doing a Neptunic/Uranic/Saturnic moth as well?" What the hell are those?

To the LGBTA wiki!

Neptunic is described as a sexuality "attracted to women, feminine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Saturnic is described as a sexuality "attracted to androgynous aligned non-binary people."

Uranic is the one I'm really curious about then. I'm attracted to men, after all. Uranic is described as a sexuality "attracted to men, masculine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Woah.

So let me back up a little bit.

When I had access to Twitter (they suspended me for defending my sexuality from someone who was saying gay men all have AIDS, so thanks Twitter) I once made a thread talking about how I didn't feel comfortable with calling myself gay.

"But Devon," I hear you say, "the whole first half of this story was dedicated to you realizing you were gay! How can you say that after wasting so much of our fucken' time?"

Give me a minute, dear reader. Let me explain what I said in this thread.

As I type this out, I recognize the transphobia I had against trans-men even while typing out that thread. I want to say, right here, right now, that my sexuality is trans-inclusive. Men with vaginas are still men. I am still very much attracted to men with vaginas. But this thread still falls on transphobic remarks. Once again, I profusely apologize for my past. I am currently working towards being a better person to my trans friends, both online and offline. I am doing my best to be better. I love you all, and I thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this.

Oh, and U of T, if you're reading this, before you even think about kicking me out for admitting my previous bigotry, I urge you to think about your staff first. Jordan Peterson still has a job and makes the campus trans-exclusive as he continues to teach. Catch yourself before you come for me, a student doing his best to be better.

Okay, so back to the Twitter thread.

I essentially said something along the lines of this:

I really struggle with calling myself gay when in reality, I'm only attracted to people with penises, and who lack vaginas and breasts. I would have sex with non-binary people who have penises. So am I really just "gay?"

But in a lot more words. Before I continue, I want to take the time to explain how this comment is transphobic, and why I am sorry and why I want to explain that I no longer feel this way. Okay? So, here's the short of it:

I go by the term gay, but by saying I'm explicitly only attracted to people with penises while liking men, I was indirectly making the point that trans-men are not men if they too do not have penises.

This is not true. Trans men are men, and I have come to realize my attraction for trans men as well, despite genitalia. My sexuality encompasses men of all kinds, and non-binary people who are masculine aligned or neutrally aligned. Once again, I can only apologize and do better.

I am sorry for my previous transphobia. I hope I can make it better by acknowledging it and doing my best to avoid these implications ever again.

Okay, now that we have all of that out of the way, let's talk Uranic again.

Uranic really does describe me. I feel it in every bone of my body, that I really do find myself sexually attracted to even non-binary people.

So, gay is out, uranic is in.

Where does that leave me today?

---

When I started this post, I explained how I was a cisgendered gay man who was a liberal who almost fell down the alt-right pipeline. But as I type this post, not only has my identity evolved, but so has my political ideology. I am a cisapathetic, uranic man who still uses the term gay in casual conversation because it's easier even though it doesn't really describe me, socialist.

BadBunny/Nicole, chat, if you're reading this, thank you. You helped me a ton in discovering socialism and to reject ideas of capitalism that only serve to continue the systematic racism against black people, the systematic transphobia that kills trans people, and even the systematic homophobia I face as a "gay" man.

Wow, that was long. Really long. If you made it this far, give yourself a pat on the back. You just read the life history of a twenty-year-old (20) and how he came to understand his identity.

I love you all.

Signed,

Devon.

FunkyFreshHomo on Discord.

[emberbent]

Book 3: Water | Chapter 1: Tenok

Shinza uttered a moan as she slurped the seaweed noodles from her soup.

Amrit arched his brow. “Should I leave you two alone?”

“I can’t help it!” she defended with her mouth full. “I haven’t had Water Tribe food since I left Republic City.”

She wafted the fragrant steam from the broth up to her nose and inhaled deeply. The little restaurant on the outskirts of the Northern Water Tribe’s capital city was quiet - that period between the lunch and dinner crowds - and they had the place nearly to themselves. Amrit watched her from his side of the table, picking at his fermented turtle-whale meat. He’d never really jived with the nuanced flavors of Water Tribe cuisine, but watching Shinza enjoy her food with such gusto, and just being with her again, was more satisfying to him than food.

Shinza finished off her noodles with admirable speed, drank the remaining broth, and found Amrit leaning forward in earnest when she finally set her bowl down. 

“So fill me in! How was the temple?”

A highlight reel flashed across her mind of the events that had occurred during her training, and suddenly, she felt cold and exposed as the rapture of their reunion slipped away. “A lot happened up there.” 

Sensing a story coming, Amrit poured them each a cup of tea from the cast iron pot that sat between them. “Like what?”

Spirits, where was she even supposed to start? She warmed her fingers around the little metal cup. Then she said, “You know how my chi was blocked when I came to you, and we couldn’t figure out why?”

Amrit nodded, wincing a little. “Of course.”

“It turns out my parents knew I was the Avatar,” she said. “They found out when I was little, when the accident happened. They had my memories repressed and my bending blocked so I’d grow up thinking I was a non-bender.”

“Why?” he inquired, looking as disturbed as Shinza felt. He couldn’t help but glance at her scarred hands. “How did you find out?”

She scoffed at herself. “When I miscalculated an airbending move and threw myself into a rock face.” Rolling her eyes and sipping at her tea, she continued, “I have no idea why they did it. I want to believe it was to protect me.”

“I guess that’s why it took so long for the Fire Sages to find you,” he surmised. 

“I found out something else, too,” she continued. “Avatar Yeong didn’t die of an illness - he was assassinated by the Org.”

Amrit blanched. “They killed a baby?”

“Yeah,” she grunted. Her expression darkened. “They did. Which means we can’t put anything past them.”

He searched her face, looking for the worry she liked to hide. She chewed on her upper lip and stared hard at the table.

“Can I see your tattoo?” He changed the subject. She pushed up the sleeve of her thick fur coat to reveal the tattoo of Xia that wound and curled up her arm as if it were alive. 

“When my parents found out I was the Avatar, they hired a former Dai Li agent to block my bending,” she explained. “I got a letter from her while I was at the temple. She said she wanted to apologize to me in person for her role in suppressing my abilities. And I went, like a fucking idiot.”

“Trap?” Amrit inquired, tracing the crisp black lines on her forearm.

“Yeah. I barely managed to get out.”

She still felt the heat of the embers as she bent them into Nobu’s eyes. Smelled the charred flesh. Heard the crack of Yanyu’s arms as she snapped them with her bare hands. “Actually, I’d be dead or worse if Xia hadn’t rescued me. Oh, by the way, I’m probably wanted for murder in Gaoling.”

“Let’s get some sake,” he offered. “You deserve it.”

He put the order in with a passing waiter, and when the little jar arrived, he poured them each a cup. 

“It wasn’t all bad, though.” She managed a smile. “Korra and Jinora helped me restore the link to my past lives, and I invented my own airbending technique.”

His face lit up. “Really? That’s badass! Let’s see it.”

She squinted, trying to figure out how to scale down the move so she could politely do it inside the restaurant. “Okay,” she said. Then she made a faint gesture with her hands. “Reach for my cup.”

When he did, his fingertips met an invisible wall of solidified air. His brows rose in appreciation. “I gotta say, this suits you.”

“How so?”

“It’s a defensive move. Stealthy, inconspicuous. It uses your opponent’s own strength against them.”

Shinza beamed and accepted the praise. 

“Did you miss firebending?” he teased.

She snorted. “Do you mean, did I miss you making me run drills until I puked? No, I didn’t.”

Amrit grinned mirthfully. After a beat, he sobered and said, “I wish I could have been there for you. I didn’t realize you’d gone through so much.” 

Shinza swelled with affection and reached for his hand. The truth was that she wouldn’t be here with him if he hadn’t sent her off with Xia when she’d left the island. And if he hadn’t shown up at the temple when he did, she likely would have ended up wasting valuable time looking for a waterbending teacher.

“You were there for me,” she insisted. “Even if not in person. You always have been.”

The scene played again in her mind: Amrit dismounting Xia, gathering Shinza up in his arms. The flood of warmth she felt. “When you showed up at the temple this morning, I was so relieved I could have kissed you.”

“Why didn’t you?” he smirked.

Shinza felt hot blood rush to her cheeks. She ignored him, finishing the rest of her sake. “So who’s this guy we’re meeting with?”

Amrit pulled a business card out of his coat pocket and passed it to her. 

“Doctor Tenok Amaruk.” She read the name aloud, smoothing her thumb over the beautifully designed card, and then frowned. “Professor of… Water Tribe Cultural History? I thought he was a waterbending teacher.”

“Mmm, no, I didn’t say that exactly,” Amrit hedged. Pinned under Shinza’s severe gaze, he buckled. “Okay, full disclosure: I don’t actually know if he’ll agree to teach you.”

Shinza tutted. “You said you’d found me a teacher!”

“I said I may have found you a teacher,” he corrected, putting his hands up in defense. “Look, don’t worry about it, okay? I’m pretty sure I can convince him.”

__

The outer fortress of the Northern Water Tribe’s capital city had been impressive, but it was nothing compared to the interior of the city itself. As they strode through the gates, gleaming structures made of pure ice dominated their view. Residential terraces surrounded the city center, their tenants overlooking the lively streets below. Crystal-clear water, sourced from innumerable waterfalls, flowed through the street canals. For a moment, Shinza forgot to warm herself with her breathing as she took in the splendor of the Water Tribe Chief’s palace ahead of them, glinting like an enormous diamond in the sunlight.

They stepped into a gondola, which ferried them to the university, where they were to meet Dr. Amaruk. Amrit looked uncharacteristically nervous. 

“What’s your deal?” Shinza whispered.

“Nothing,” he returned. “I’m good.”

The University of the Northern Water Tribe boasted a sprawling campus, all sparkling blue buildings made of ice and smooth, snowy courtyards. The semester was coming to a close, and students milled about, rushing to their final exams. Amrit and Shinza made their way to the main building that housed the faculty’s offices and checked in with a secretary, who offered them a seat while they waited for their meeting time. After a few moments, the secretary motioned for them to go into the office. 

Tenok Amaruk was a middle-aged man, willowy, and much taller than both Amrit and Shinza. He wore a smart set of tailored garments - an artful combination of current and centuries-old Water Tribe fashion, trimmed with fur and handmade beads. They all settled into their chairs. The professor pinned Amrit like a fly across the desk with his sharp silver eyes.

“It’s been a long time, Mr. Han.” He inclined his head with stiff politeness, ignoring Shinza completely. “How can I help you?”

“Thank you for meeting with us,” Amrit returned the gesture. “I’d like to introduce you to the Avatar, Shinza Kwon.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Shinza greeted, mustering as warm a smile as she could despite the look of pure disgust Dr. Amaruk wore as he gave her a cold once-over.

He grunted. “And what exactly is it that you want from me, Miss Kwon?”

“I’ve just finished my airbending training,” she replied, getting down to business. She wasn’t afraid of this asshole, but she didn’t want to be here any longer than she had to be. “We came in from the Eastern Air Temple this morning. As you know, the next element in line is water, so… I’d like you to teach me waterbending.”

She looked askance at Amrit, who had clearly passed off leading the meeting to her and looked to be sweating bullets. He was usually so self-assured and confident - what was his deal?

Dr. Amaruk glanced at her expressionlessly from behind his little circular frames. “Absolutely not.” Then he took to the stack of ungraded papers on the corner of his desk with a red pen. “You may see yourselves out.”

Quiet fury rose up in Shinza. With her fists clenched, she rose from her seat and started for the door. She saw no sense in wasting time on someone who clearly had no interest in teaching her, or treating her like a human.

“Ten,” Amrit beseeched. The old nickname caught the professor’s attention and made Shinza pause. “Please.” 

Tenok put down his pen, daring Amrit to go on. 

“The Organization is out in full force in Republic City. They have cells operating in the Earth Kingdom and spirits know where else. She’s already over ten years behind, and the semester is almost over anyway.”

“I need your help,” she admitted through her clenched teeth. “The Org murdered Avatar Yeong, and now they’re out for me. I need to learn waterbending as soon as possible.”

Tenok took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Then he said, “Fine.”

Shinza’s jaw relaxed and she came back to her seat.

Amrit looked like he wanted to fold up into his chair and disappear. “So what’s next?”

“You tell me, Mr. Han,” Tenok replied with a thin smile.

“I guess we’ll get accommodations in the city. And then --”

“You’ll both stay with me,” Tenok sighed, waving his hand as if Amrit were speaking nonsense. “If the Organization is rallying as you say, we can’t be certain there aren’t also cells here in the North. It’s safest to stay out of plain sight.”

__

Shinza and Amrit trudged back across campus and headed to the part of town where Tenok lived. The air between them was fraught.

“Do you want to explain to me what the hell that was all about?” Shinza laid into him as they stepped into the gondola. She still trembled with carefully-bridled rage remembering the way the professor had treated both of them. “That was the weirdest fucking meeting I’ve ever been to in my life!”

Amrit opened his mouth but then closed it, defeated. He leaned forward and let his head fall into his hands in shame. “I didn’t think it would go that way. I’m sorry.”

Shinza wasn’t satisfied. “But why him? Why not someone else? Anyone else?”

“Do you know any other waterbending masters?” Amrit lashed out. All of his emotions glimmered in his dark eyes as he met her gaze. “I thought maybe the past could stay in the past, okay? The embarrassment is bad enough. I don’t need to be grilled.”

She crossed the boat and settled next to him. She said softly, “I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me you had history with this guy.”

He shook his head. “It’s complicated, I guess.”

A moment passed, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “That was hard for you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I really am sorry.”

“I know.” 

__

Something else Amrit had left out was the fact that Tenok lived in a mansion. It was modest compared to the ones occupied by important government officials and the like; but it was large enough that Shinza could wander off by herself, free to choose her bedroom from the numerous ones available. 

Amrit was careful about the one he selected. In the end, he chose one down the hall from Shinza - not too far away from the main bedroom, but not too close. He and Shinza may have worked things out, but he had no idea where he stood with Tenok.

He unpacked his things and then took a walk around the house. Some things had changed - repairs had been made, more Water Tribe artifacts had been hung up on the walls. But by and large, the house was exactly the same as he remembered it from over a decade ago. The sight of it brought back memories he hadn’t let himself think about for a long time.

He found himself out on a terrace that faced the city center. It was midday, and the polar sun was setting. Amrit let out an exhausted sigh and settled into a chair, grimacing as he worked to pry off The Leg, whose metal had contracted painfully due to the frigid temperature. He winced and rubbed at the sore, blistered skin just below his knee, where his shin ended.

“I can’t decide if I should feel sorry for you, or if you deserve it,” Tenok sounded behind him.

Amrit tensed. Tenok came around to settle in the chair next to him, sizing up the younger man with his leonine gaze. With surprising tenderness, he asked, “Why did you come back?”

“Shinza needed a waterbending teacher,” Amrit replied half-heartedly.

“Is that so?” Tenok replied. Amrit had changed since he’d last seen him. He was a man with a purpose now, with mirth in his eyes. Tenok continued, “You made a fool of me today.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“Was it foolish to think you had come back to me? After all this time?”

Amrit chanced a glance at Tenok. His heart ached for seeing him again, and for all the memories that overtook him. Tenok was older, thinner. He still wore his hair the same - long, tidy dreadlocks that rested nobly on his shoulders and fell down his back, some tied up into a dignified cascade at the back of his head. But at his temples, the once salt-and-pepper hair had turned white. There were frown lines around his mouth; it pained Amrit to think he might have given him those.

Amrit stood carefully, making his way on his good leg to lean on the balcony. “I’m sorry I left.”

“I’m not angry that you left!” Tenok replied, incredulous that Amrit could be so thick. He joined him at the balcony. “You had a life to return to. I understood that. But you didn’t even say goodbye.”

That wasn’t true; he’d had no life to return to. Gao and his unborn children had been taken from him. He hadn’t yet assumed his father’s position teaching the fledgling firebenders. His identity as a husband and father had been shattered. Tenok’s comforting warmth had been sutures for the gaping wound in his soul, and he simply couldn’t have withstood losing him, too. So he’d ripped the sutures out himself. After he’d left, he hadn’t gone back to the island; instead, he’d wandered the Earth Kingdom, lost as he’d ever been.

Amrit locked eyes with him. Tenok melted at the feel of his calloused fingers brushing his sharp jawline. “You’re right,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Tenok gathered him up in his arms, holding him tightly. Amrit let go of the railing and leaned against him for balance. He snaked his arms around the older man’s waist, comforted by his familiar peppery tobacco scent.

“I accept your apology,” Tenok whispered in return. “Would you sit down, please?”

Amrit hobbled back to his seat. Tenok glanced at his leg. “I can help, if you’ll allow me.”

Amrit hesitated, but then conceded. “I’d be grateful.”

Tenok lifted his leg onto his lap and melted some of the ice nearby, warming the water and letting it coat his hand. It glowed blue with potent healing energy, and Amrit immediately relaxed under Tenok’s hand. The professor worked carefully at the end of his leg, gently softening the tensed muscles and repairing the blistered skin. 

Amrit closed his eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”

@chromecutie @hetapeep41 @jaymzbush @my-remedy-is-euphoria

[sympathyfortheblinderdevil]

All is Fair: Ch 11

Hi, Y’all!  Thank you for being so patient and not giving up on this fic even though I have been egregiously late with updates. At best, my life is erratically populated with periods of leisure time and periods of hectic, soul-crushing work. I, like many of you, am in the midst of a forced period of leisure time, so you will probably see more frequent updates. I appreciate those of you who are willing to stick around to see what happens next, and I hope you are in good health. Tell me what you think! x

Discovery and Dissolution

Polly Gray sat in her Bentley, wrapped in fur. Through her dark glasses, she watched the scene on the street where Lia worked. The bitter north wind cut straight down the sidewalk in front of the library and sent patrons scurrying for shelter within. A cluster of people shuffled through the arched brass doors, and Lia stepped out. She was a vision in a blue cashmere long coat, a mink collar clutched around her neck. The wind caused her coat to flap and play peek-a-boo with leather boots that stretched up to her knees. Both items were gifts from Tommy, Polly surmised. She noticed that Lia still wore an older pair of wool gloves. Guess he couldn’t think of everything.

 Despite the cold, Lia wore a little smile as she walked along. She’d been hard at work referencing and cross-referencing research with a professor of Art History at the University of Birmingham, and he was pleased with the help she’d given him. He had mentioned working with her again in the near future. Lia had come a long way from shelving books. She was beginning to realize the kind of life she had only dreamed was possible when she first came to Birmingham.  As she neared the corner, though, she was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed familiar-looking woman in a posh car was watching her.

 Polly lowered her window and called out, “Lia, Lia Montrose!”

 Lia slowed down and warily approached the car. Polly extended a sumptuously gloved hand, looked over her sunglasses at Lia, and introduced herself, “Polly Gray…Tommy’s Aunt Polly.”

 Lia visibly relaxed and took her hand at those words, “Mrs. Gray…I’m pleased to meet you.”

 “Get in, it’s time we got acquainted.”

 In a matter of minutes, Lia found herself sitting in the kitchen at No. 6 Watery Lane while Polly found two cups and put the kettle on. She then reached into the cupboard where she found a tin of tea. Upon opening it and sniffing the contents, she decided that it would do. Decked head to toe in Parisian tailor-made garments, she looked odd moving around the kitchen with such familiarity.

 While they waited for the kettle to boil, she offered Lia a cigarette and lit one of her own. They’d spoken hardly a word since they entered the house. Lia was loathe to break the silence with small talk, so she waited for Polly to say what was on her mind. They sat, smoking and soaking in the dusty quiet of the dimly lit room.

 Only when Polly poured the tea did she finally speak. “I brought you here so that you could see where Tommy lived...where we all lived before the money came.”

 Lia looked all around the room and smiled, “So this is where Tommy began.”

 Polly waved her hand with a flourish and laughed, “Who knows where Tommy began. If I hadn’t witnessed his birth I’d swear that he was flung out of heaven and barred from hell.”

 Lia smiled knowingly, “Well, Lucifer was a fallen angel.”

 “Exactly.” Polly raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the rickety chair. “I want you to understand why Tommy is,” she searched for the right words and finding none she continued, “the way he is.”

 Memories flooded Polly’s mind as she looked all around herself, gesturing here and there with the hand that held her cigarette. “Look around you, Lia. This is where we moved when things got better. You don’t want to know where we lived before when things were worse.”

 Lia swallowed hard and held her cup with both hands as if to draw every bit of heat out of it. She was suddenly cold. She had not grown up with much, but she was certainly comfortable. Her home had a lightness about it. The room where she sat with Polly was cozy, homey even, but the air was laced with soot and traces of despair.

 “Does that explain why he is so driven?” Lia wondered aloud.

 “Partly,” Polly mused. Then she looked at Lia with soft brown eyes, almost like she sympathized with her. She felt sorry for anyone who loved Tommy, even herself. “He has always been different. Clever and driven since the night he was born.” Then she looked away, “But he did have a big heart.”

 Did.

 It wasn’t Polly’s intention to make Lia uncomfortable or uncertain of her place in Tommy’s life, but Lia couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. Lia’s chair creaked as she shifted her weight and sat her teacup on the table, and Polly saw in her eyes a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before.

 “We all had to make sacrifices to get where we are today, but Tommy has sacrificed the most. Business comes first. Always. Ada says that Tommy likes you, he may even grow to care for you, but there are certain things you will have to accept if you want to be with him...”

 “So he has said,” Lia broke in. She immediately regretted cutting Tommy’s aunt off, though Polly showed no sign of being offended. She just sipped her tea and smiled.

 “Has he said what he plans on doing with you when he returns to London, Dear?”

 Lia winced a bit at the question. “No.”

 There was silence between them again. A clock ticked out the seconds from the next room and the sounds of people shouting to each other in the street filtered through the walls. Having finished her tea, Polly lit another cigarette and let the quiet grow around them. She believed that you could learn a lot about a person by how they chose to deal with spaces in conversation, so she waited and watched.

 Lia ruminated on Polly’s last question as long as she could, then stood and looked toward the parlor, silently asking permission to go in.  Polly rose and accompanied her. Dusty furniture and photographs sat frozen in time as if they were waiting for Polly to run the sweeper or Ada to polish the tabletops. The fireplace sat waiting to be lit. But she couldn’t see Tommy until she looked up the shadowy stairwell. It was narrow, and she could barely see the top stair in the darkness, but something in the woodsy smell that drifted down reminded her of him. Polly caught the wistful expression on Lia’s face and placed her hand on Lia’s back.

 “His room was up there,” Polly nodded.

 Polly peered into the darkness and flipped a switch, then nodded in the direction of the stairs, inviting Lia to climb them.

   ***

 The sleek grey Bentley rolled along Cannon Lane and splashed slush in its wake. Lia sat in back with a heavy woolen blanket wrapped around her legs. She made small talk with Rodney, the Blinder up front. Already, she knew that he had a fiancé and that they were to be married in June. His mum and dad were from Coventry, and they were both deceased. Also, Tommy had taken him under his wing as a boy of thirteen. Tommy kept him from starving and from, as Rodney put it, “…falling in with the worst sort of criminal element.” It seemed like everywhere she turned there was another person with a story about what Tommy had done to help them.

 Rodney delivered her to her door, and eager to get out of the cold, Lia darted inside.

  “Jenny, are you here?”

 A few snowflakes floated to the floor while she hung up her coat and unbuttoned her mink lined gloves. She noticed that the kettle was on, and so she called out again.

 “Jenny!”

 Her cousin bounded down the stairs, pulling her arms through the sleeves of a cardigan as she came.

 “Jesus, Lia!” she laughed. “Is the bloody house on fire?”

 “I have news,” Lia beamed.

 Jenny nodded her head and set about fixing tea, “Go on then. Tell me your news.”

 “WE have the use of a car.”

 Jenny froze and her heart sank. “Come again…”

 “A car, Jenny! Tommy doesn’t like the idea of my riding the bus and walking to work, so he is sending a car ‘round for us every morning and afternoon. One of his men will drive us to and from work,” she enthused.

 Jenny stood blinking at her for a moment then responded in a monotone voice. “A Blinder, Lia. ‘One of his men’ means a Blinder. I’d rather walk in the rain and snow.”

 She turned her back to Lia and got out the plates, careful not to take her simmering mood out on the crockery. She tried her best to keep her distrust of Tommy out of her relationship with her cousin, but it was hard to keep things light when every other word out of Lia’s mouth was “Tommy”.

 Jenny had taken quite a bit of flack at work because of Lia’s connection with Tommy Shelby. She’d had her fill with entering rooms full of chatter only to have them go silent, and she had dodged several sideways comments about her recent promotion. She hated to kill the mood, but someone had to be the voice of reason. Rolling up to work chauffeured by a flat cap wearing thug was more than she could tolerate.

 Lia balled her fists and tried to modulate her voice as she asked, “Why do you hate him so much? Hmm? He is good to me and he wants to help you too.”

 “Help? Is that what he calls it?” Jenny turned back around and eyed Lia’s obviously new and obviously bought by Tommy clothes. “If you want to play house with him and let him dress you up as his little doll that’s your business, but I won’t be ferried around town in a car that was paid for with blood money.”

 “That’s not fair, and you know it. Our family weren’t always saints. Granddad was the first one in the queue to spunk away his wages on the horses and the last one out of the pub at night.”

 “Right, and it was people like the Shelbys who were more than happy to take his wages off of him while Nan and our dads went shoeless.”

 She had a point. Lia hated the fact that she had a point. Damn Jenny for always knowing how to snatch the stars from her eyes. Lia sat down and put her head in her hands to hide her tears. It was so easy to let Tommy do little things for her, to buy a scarf here and some gloves there, to make life easier for her in a thousand little ways. He never made her feel like it was payment for services rendered. How could Jenny take all of Tommy’s kindness and turn it into something dirty, something tainted and wrong? The gifts and the thoughtful things he did for her were not part of a transaction, they were just part of the way he liked to take care of her. She wished that for once Jenny could see the goodness in Tommy.

 Since Aunt Polly had shown her the house and the betting shop where Tommy had launched his empire, she had a deeper understanding of him. Since she’d stood in his tiny bedroom where he had wrestled with the echoes of the tunnels and sweated through nightmares of poverty and war, she saw him through different eyes. She had grown to tolerate his last-minute cancellations and welcome him without pouting when he’d kept her waiting half the night.

 Polly had opened her eyes to the man behind the façade in a way that he could never do himself. With that understanding, she opened herself up to the possibility of a life with Tommy. No, nothing about what happened between them was mercenary. Tommy just took care of people in his life. She was used to Jenny acting like an older sister and alerting her to pitfalls she had overlooked, but this was too much. The tears of frustration and despair that she had hidden behind her hands were becoming tears of rage. Over and over Jenny had proven that she wouldn’t ever approve of her relationship with Tommy, and Lia was finished with seeking her cousin’s approval.

 She wiped her eyes and spoke through gritted teeth, “You know, Tommy has offered to let me stay in one of his properties near the library. Maybe it’s time to take him up on that offer. I’d hate for my reputation as the Shelby whore to rub off on you.”

 Jenny put down the knife she’d been using to slice the bread. “Calm down. I didn’t say that…”

 “But that is what you meant.” Her words came out clipped and cold. “I don’t want my reputation for sleeping with the Gangster of Parliament to ruin your chances with some nice mid-level clerk, so I’ll just move out.”

 “No…don’t! I’m just worried about you. You are like my little sister and I’m afraid you’re riding for a fall. What happens when this is over?”

 Lia abruptly stood and lashed out at Jenny, “Over?” Lia growled.

 The word struck a chord of fear in Lia that made her dizzy. In an instant, all of her nights with Tommy, the taste of his sweat, the feel of his mouth, the smell of his sheets, flashed through her mind. She turned that fear into rage and took a step toward Jenny as she shouted, “I love him! That’s enough for me! Why can’t it enough for you?”

 It was true. She loved him so much that it hurt. Her face was red and blotchy and her chest heaved with every breath. She was tired of fighting Jenny at every turn, and at that moment all she wanted was Tommy’s arms around her.  She needed him so badly that she felt like she would fly into a million pieces without him holding her together.

 Jenny took a step backward and bumped into the kitchen counter. Lia looked truly deranged. A realization came over Jenny like a wave. Lia was a different person now— a person who turned a blind eye to the ugly side of her man and made excuses for his shortcomings. It had been happening gradually over the last few months; the absent-minded dreamer that she had grown up with had disappeared. Back then, no matter how far out Lia got Jenny was always the voice of reason who could reel her back in, but Lia wasn’t listening to her anymore. This was different.

 There seemed to be no turning back. Jenny knew that she had already said too much, but couldn’t resist a parting shot as she headed for the stairs. “Love? How can you love him when the only things you have in common are each other?”

 Even as Jenny said it, she wondered if it was true.

  ***

   Tommy and Arthur were sitting opposite each other at Tommy’s desk in their shirtsleeves talking about horses. Arthur had put too many logs on the fire and the room was like an oven. It was past the close of business and they should have been heading home, but they had lately taken to staying for drinks a couple of nights a week. Arthur would tell stories about Billy and the chickens, and Tommy had even opened up a bit about Lia. Arthur was cursing the heat and rolling up his sleeves when they heard someone pounding at the door.

 “You expecting company?” Arthur asked in his rough, whiskey soaked Brum.

 Tommy ran the tip of his tongue along his teeth and shook his head, “No.”

 They stood and Arthur made his way toward the door, his hand on his pistol.

 “Who’s there?” he boomed.

 A muffled voice called, “Lia Montrose. I need to see Tom…Mr. Shelby.”

 Arthur turned in his brother’s direction and feigned seriousness. ”Shall we let her in, Tommy?”

 Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed, “Open the fookin’ door; it’s freezing out there.”

 Lia entered the building shaking snow from her disheveled hair and stamping the slush from her boots. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and her eyes were a bit watery from the wind. She imagined that she looked a fright, but Arthur thought she looked like an angel.

 Arthur stood there looking her up and down while she tried not to gawp at the pistol hanging loosely under his arm until Tommy cleared his throat and began to make introductions.

 “Lia, this is my brother Arthur. Arthur, Lia Montrose.”

 Arthur straightened up and offered to take her coat. As he hung it on the rack, he smiled a bit too broadly and said, “Tommy has told me a lot of nice things about you.”

 Tommy knew that something was wrong because he and Lia hadn’t planned on seeing each other until the weekend. After a few pleasantries, Tommy stared at Arthur until he made his excuses and left.

 Chills shook her body; she was shaking like a leaf, so Tommy took her by the hand and led her into his office where a fire roared and two glasses of whiskey were already waiting. He sat her down on his desk and took a seat in front of her, all the while rubbing the warmth back into her arms and hands. She looked down into his crystalline eyes and tried to find the words to say what she’d come for. At that moment, she was ever so grateful that Tommy knew how to take his time with her. He would wait until she was ready to talk.

 She finished her first glass of whiskey and leaned into him. She breathed deeply and sighed, feeling better already simply for having him there to hold her.

 “I don’t know what to do,” she mumbled into his collar.

 “About…” he prompted her while stroking her head.

 She sat back up and his hands went to her thighs rubbing slow, soothing circles over her skirt. She watched his hands and thought about what Jenny had said. She didn’t know very much about him, other than what they did together. Hell, she only just met his brother. His business dealings were a mystery and she had learned more about him from the papers than from his own words. So what if she became breathless around him? So what if her tummy fluttered every time he entered the room? Surely there was more to love than the helpless infatuation she felt for him.

 Tommy lay his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her hips thinking that maybe she would be able to tell him what was wrong if his eyes weren’t watching her. She ran her fingers through his hair and took a deep breath.

 “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

 “Is that right?” Tommy whispered.

 Lulled by the sensation of her fingernails on his scalp, he could feel the knots in his shoulders loosen. He was trying his best to be attentive to her needs, but his mind drifted to what he’d like to do with her on his desk.

 “Jenny and I had an awful row… the worst one we’ve ever had,” she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and went on, “I can’t live with her anymore.”

 That got his full attention.

[persephonescat]

Birds and Other Supernatural Phenomenons

Chapter 3!!!!!!! Wow. 

Ch. 1      Previous    Next    Masterpost    AO3

________________

Ch. 3: I Came Here to Have a Good Time...

The problem with making friends with a villain past midnight and getting into an hours-long debate on psychology with them? 

Well, you know the thing when you lay unconscious in your bed in order to function? It kinda gets left out.

Marinette drank two cups of coffee in the morning - she didn't even like coffee -, and she still wanted to kill everyone she laid her eyes on and then herself. (Guess who spent their practically non-existent free time reading memes?)

It was too early to check on Luka and Kagami, plus they made her promise she would at least try to have a good time, and Kaalki had absolutely no interest in taking her to Paris if there wasn't a clear threat. Normally, she wouldn't have thought about going on a school trip at all. For two years, she managed to "get sick" every time there was an outing on the horizon, and she took no pleasure in going to a different continent for two months, while Paris' population was completely vulnerable to a terrorist. 

However, Gotham might've had been even more dangerous than Paris, and she couldn't let her classmates go without protection either. Not to mention how the whole trip was... kind of her fault.

In her protection, last year, when Mrs. Bustier presented the class with the opportunity, she didn't think they had any chance. So when the woman said she was going to speak to her colleagues in her favor if Marinette filled out the application and convinced the class to reach the requirements, the girl didn't think twice. They shot a cool campaign-video, got recommendations from Jagged Stone, Cheng Shifu, Nadja Chamack, Penny Rolling, Gabriel Agreste, Audrey Bourgeois, the major, the principal and even the Kitty Section for good measure, then she wrote a five pages long essay about the ways they could spend the vacation and the money that came with it. Now that Marinette was thinking about it, they might've overshot the mark a little.

Thanks to Mrs. Bustier, this way she could at least maintain her grades a bit, which came handy after the late-night patrols she was still getting used to at the time.

Giving the Miraculouses to Luka and Kagami after swearing never to use them again was hard, but necessary. As Ladybug, she fed them a story about having to go to the east for a Miraculous-mission two weeks before Marinette actually left, so she could see them in action - Hawkmoth was getting sloppy; he only sent out one akuma during that time period, and it was a pretty weak one too -, and so it wasn't that easy to connect the dots, 'cause... Ladybug and your friend, who magical camouflage or not, look pretty much alike, leave and come back at the same time. You have three guesses.

She made them promise to call her if there was any damage she had to "Cure" or if an akuma was too difficult for them to handle, and she hoped that at least Kagami, being the more responsible one, would keep that promise.

Alya's voice, still hoarse from waking up, pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Mornin'." She stopped to yawn and tried to smooth her red tornado of a hair out. "Where did you get coffee?" 

Marinette pointed at the pot on the counter. Alya shuffled towards it with closed eyes, muttering "coffee" under her breath over and over again, her hip hitting every chair on the way there. She might've cursed a few times, but it came out so tangled, Marinette wasn't sure.

Then came Nino storming down the stairs, probably waking the entire city with his steps, humming Jagged Stones' Jeudi soir. He put a hand on Alya's back, lead her to a chair, then poured her a cup of coffee and smiled at Marinette while mixing two spoons of sugar into it. She smiled back fondly. 

She wasn't sure when she and Alya stopped being best friends. Things just... changed. Marinette started growing out her hair, wearing it in a braid instead of piggy tails. Alya's usual shirts were swapped to fandom T-shirts and crop tops. Marinette's clothes got more red and black, Alya started running another website beside Ladyblog, about her everyday life and various topics from movie-critiques to the art of journalism. Marinette ran out of pink lipstick and purchased a cherry one instead. Alya went to a festival with Nino and it was the best week of her life. Marinette's crush on Adrien disappeared, while Alya's relationship with Nino got more and more serious. 

It was slow and painful at first, but she didn't realize how much changed over a few months until one day she reached for her phone to call her friend and tell her something about a commission she got, then it hit her: they were not like that anymore.

It was comforting, on some level, that she no longer had that responsibility. Or that's what she told herself.

When the rest of her class arrived, she stood up and left the cafeteria. 

***

In the morning, they went sightseeing. Not as if Gotham had a lot of sights, they might've been the only people stupid enough to go there for fun.

No, it was more like two hours of "don't go here", "don't go there",  and "please, don't go there either" as they were shown around the city by a young lady whose posture was radiating stress all the time. Marinette could understand why. Their last stop was the Wayne Tower, where they were told to pair up with each other and discover the shops, cafés, and restaurants around the square.

She locked eyes with Adrien and mouthed "cover for me". The boy nodded, then Marinette quickly turned around the corner and walked around the square a few times before finding a sympathetic café, only one street away from the tower (technically, it wasn't on the square, but close enough).

She took a seat and ordered her third cup of coffee that day (she was healthy like that), before pulling out her phone and researching Wayne Enterprises. She checked it out back home of course, but there was a lot more material there than she had time for

She was reading yet another biography on Bruce Wayne and pretending her tired eyes weren't constantly tearing up and stinging from the screen when she heard it.

"I can't believe it. Have you read this?" an old man asked his wife sitting at the table next to Marinette's.

"Please, Robert, you can't throw a tantrum every time someone gets killed in this city," the women answered flatly.

The man turned a few pages in his newspaper then pushed it under her wife's nose.

"Not just someone, Martha! A girl! A young girl! She was barely older than Katie!" That seemed to pique the woman's interest.

"A girl, ya' say?" she murmured, pulling out her glasses. "Who did it?"

"You'd think they know, right? I mean, they have a list of all the psychopaths rummaging the streets, it can't be that hard to figure out, but no-," the wife shushed him just by raising a finger.

She took a few seconds to read the article before speaking up again.

"This says it was near Crime Alley. No girl goes near that just by accident."

"She was stabbed twelve times in broad daylight! She wasn't that near Crime Alley, look-," he turned the newspaper, searching the lines then he pointed at something, "-she was found on St. Anthony Street! That's five streets over!"

The woman hummed.

"What did ya' say, how old was she?"

"Sixteen. Katie might've seen her a few times, they went to the same school."

A waitress came and interrupted them, giving them their check. Marinette, who was pretending to drink her coffee peacefully all along now turned to them just as the man opened his wallet.

"Excuse Moi? May I ask what time it is?" She asked with a thick French accent. 

The man stopped halfway in paying the waitress and glanced at his watch, giving Marinette enough time to study the wallet in his hand. It was small and black leather, probably a gift. There was a picture too, just as she expected. It showed a girl around thirteen with blond hair and bangs, smiling in her school uniform. "Katie", if she had any luck. 

"Half-past two," the man told her helpfully.

The girl thanked him with a smile, paid for her coffees, then left the shop. 

She walked around the block to get out of the old couple's sight before visiting the Gotham Gazelle's official website on her phone. The dead girl's name was Joanne, but her surname wasn't published and there was no photo of her. She was found the day before yesterday, with twelve identical knife-wounds on her body. The police said they were looking for the culprit, but they clearly didn't have much to go on, given their lack of suspects.

Marinette took out her sketchbook and started scribbling down some notes.

Joanne

16 yrs old

Lives in Gotham

Student

She paused. The uniform on Katie's picture was blue with a red tie. Gotham didn't have many schools, but they all had different uniforms. Blue and red meant Gotham Academy.

Student in Gotham Academy

A quick Facebook search later she had the girl's last name and profile picture. Bless the modern age.

If she had to be in Gotham, she might as well not die in boredom, right?

St. Anthony Street was a little over thirty minutes from the Wayne Tower. She had time.

________________

As always, coffee is my nectar and comments are my ambrosia, so penny for your thoughts!

Ch. 1      Previous     Next    Masterpost    AO3

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[jamesginortonblog]

No one could accuse James Norton of allowing himself to be typecast. The 34-year-old has played a vicar-turned-sleuth in Grantchester, a violent rapist in Happy Valley, and the aristocratic hero of War & Peace. He’s also number three in the betting to be the new James Bond. And he’s just about to add to his library of opposites with two new roles: the staid tutor John Brooke, who marries Emma Watson’s Meg March, in the star-studded new film adaptation of Little Women; and the flamboyant real-life figure at the centre of the Profumo scandal – Stephen Ward – in BBC One’s The Trial of Christine Keeler.

“Ward was 100 per cent the fall guy,” says Norton, sporting a dark-blue crushed velvet jacket and settling in on a chaise longue in an upmarket London hotel. The actor looks every bit as debonair as you’d expect for a man playing the high-society osteopath with connections that ran from Soho to the aristocracy. “The government needed to clear their own name by tarnishing someone else’s.”

It was Ward who introduced the 46-year-old Secretary of State for War John Profumo (Ben Miles) to 19-year-old model and showgirl Christine Keeler (Sophie Cookson) at a party at Lord Astor’s country house estate of Cliveden in 1961. It led to an affair that exposed Profumo as a security threat – thanks to Keeler’s simultaneous relationship with a Russian naval attaché.

Keeler and her friend Mandy Rice-Davies (Ellie Bamber) often stayed at Ward’s London mews flat, and the 50-year-old former public schoolboy would later be prosecuted for living off immoral earnings in a dubious case of establishment revenge. The two had contributed small amounts to household expenses. Ward committed suicide after the judge’s summing up amounted to a direction to the jury to find him guilty.

Amanda Coe’s stylish, evocative drama establishes Keeler and Rice-Davies as sexually liberated young women for their time. Does Norton think they were victims? “Ward definitely used certain relationships he had with young, beautiful women to ingratiate himself with the wealthy elite,” he says. “He also groomed them to a point… but it’s too simplistic to say he was a man who groomed young women. His relationship with these young girls was often a very positive one, he would enable them, take them out of poverty.” Keeler was from a disadvantaged background and fitted the mould of the “alley cats” Ward liked to befriend. Norton gives a terrific performance as the sleazy Pygmalion.

“I really warmed to him… you fall in love with these characters, and Stephen Ward was way ahead of his time, so brave in how he lived his life and expressed himself, his sexual tastes, his flirting with cross-dressing, in a world that was still incredibly repressed.

“And the final reckoning was that Stephen Ward had somehow corrupted these Tory ministers and it was all his fault, which is absurd.”

I wonder if Norton, the son of a retired college lecturer and a mother who taught medical ethics, is as dazzled by the truly posh as Ward was.

“Wealth or class are not things that I’m particularly dazzled by,” he says. “I am by talent.” He cites Little Women director Greta Gerwig and her partner Noah Baumbach, who made Netflix’s Marriage Story, as an example.

Norton himself is part of a powerhouse acting couple, with British star Imogen Poots, whom he became close to when they starred together in a play in 2017. They seem very happy. “It’s good,” he says, but adds, “my personal life is very normal, I have a house in Peckham, my [parents] live in Yorkshire. There's very little glamour and scandal.”

There was a little bit of the latter when his previous girlfriend, actress Jessie Buckley, said their break-up had been “acrimonious”, but Norton is far too canny to add fuel to that particular fire.

Similarly, he won’t comment on the rumours linking him to James Bond, insisting they are “based on nothing”. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have strong opinions on the series in general.

“We all know that with James Bond, large parts of it, and all the versions of it in the past, are now antiquated and it needs to be updated,” he says. “And I think that Barbara Broccoli and the producers are very aware of that. Bringing in people like Phoebe Waller-Bridge can only help.”

Might the spy be a little too one-dimensional for someone who has taken on so many interesting parts? Daniel Craig, who is stepping aside after the latest film No Time To Die comes out in April, has often seemed unhappy with the role.

“If I was to take on a franchise,” Norton says, “I would always want to complement it with something completely different.”

He has just taken on a big HBO sci-fi series, The Nevers, he says, and is in negotiations with the BBC about doing a second series of McMafia. We chat about the fact that the first series attracted a measure of criticism, including some for his own performance as Alex Godman, the scion of a Russian mafia family drawn reluctantly into the underworld. “There was an article about the three wooden faces of James Norton,” he says with a laugh.

How did he take it?

“It’s a rite of passage that you have [bad reviews],” he replies. “Ultimately, it’s an art form which is deeply subjective and you’re never going to please everyone.” The character was intended to be “inscrutable and calcified”, he adds. Nevertheless, he admits he might play it slightly differently second time around.

“Yeah, possibly,” he says. “But, then again, you don’t want to pander to the people who didn’t like it. There's so much content out there that people who don't like it can go and find something else.”

One of the factors that Norton and director James Watkins agreed upon when sketching out Godman’s background was his public school education. Norton is a public school boy too; a former pupil of Ampleforth, the leading Catholic boarding school which was found to have covered up the sexual abuse of scores of children in a devastating report in 2018.

Norton never saw any wrongdoing during his time there, but does admit to being “quite badly bullied” and credits one of the monks - a Father Peter - with helping him get through it. “I was able to go and just talk to him and he basically became my therapist,” says Norton. “I just sort of sobbed my eyes out.”

Has it left a mark? “It probably has a bit,” he says. “It’s not defined me, but it has informed who I am. I’m hyper aware if someone is being in any way ostracised on a film set, for example.”

On Little Women, he found himself on set with some of the industry’s biggest names, including Saoirse Ronan, Timothée Chalamet, Meryl Streep and Laura Dern. The film’s a deliriously romantic and sentimental take on the novel’s sibling rivalries, but it takes its duty to Louisa May Alcott’s study of the economic subjection of women seriously. “It's important for us to go back to those punctuation marks in the struggle towards equality and recognise how far we've come, but also how we're not quite there yet,” Norton says.

He and Watson were given the task of writing their own marriage vows for the film, which he says he laboured over but arrived with them unfinished to discover that Watson had already written hers and they were beautiful. He was just young enough to read the early Harry Potter books, he notes, but has only seen a couple of the films – “Don’t tell Emma.”

He plays Chalamet’s tutor – did he fancy the 23-year-old as everyone else seems to right now? He smiles. “He’s a beguiling and bizarre, unique force of nature,” he says. Norton had been wondering about wearing a suit to today’s photoshoot, but is glad he didn’t as he’s just bumped into the younger man in a Gorillaz tee-shirt and sunglasses. “Whenever he’s around, I feel about 10 years older than I am.”

Among all its bold women, I wonder if his own character – John Brooke – is just a teeny bit dull. He laughs. “He’s a little quieter than some of the other characters, but that allowed me to just witness all these great women actors. It was incredible.”

There’s certainly nothing dull or quiet about the character he plays in the film Mr Jones, which is released in February. It’s the surprisingly little-known story of Gareth Jones, the journalist who uncovered the Holodomor – the man-made famine genocide inflicted by the Soviet Union upon Ukraine in 1932-33, which is estimated to have killed up to 7.5 million people. “He blew the whistle on the Soviet Union,” says Norton. “He was the first person to go [to Ukraine], and come back and tell the world.”

In the West, the economic crash of 1929 had led to the Great Depression. “Everyone was looking at the Soviet experiment thinking, ‘Oh, it's working’,” Norton says. “They were getting into bed with Stalin and trade deals were being made. And no one was calling them out. Until this one serious, bespectacled, earnest Welsh journalist got on a train and risked his life to blow the whistle.”

I wonder if those types of films can command a big enough audience to keep getting made? He accepts that independent cinema is in a period of shrinkage, but says, “while the audience for this type of film might not be as big as a Marvel movie, we have to protect those stories because film isn't just about escapism. It's also about education.”

[comicsnsuch]

Tales from the Dark Multiverse

Hi! Thanks for finding this tumblr. The plan is to share and write about comic books, comic book art, other things that interest me and such, thus the name of the tumblr. Maybe you share some of the same interests, or maybe you’ll discover something new.

I’m going to try to post as frequently as possible, but that frequency will vary depending on what real life is like week to week. On slow weeks, there will be more stuff, on busy weeks less.  You get it.  Hopefully if you check in now and then you’ll find some new content.

I work (worked?) in a comic book shop, but as I have been recently reminded, due to the COVID-19/Coronavirus epidemic, I am non-essential.  Thanks State Government! Always good to have a self esteem boost! 

Anyway… I love comic books, reading them, talking about them, (thinking about) making them and so on. Always have, always will. I wanted to have an outlet for sharing that while I can’t be in the shop doing it face to face with customers and random strangers. 

I’ll be writing short reviews for what I’ve been reading, new stuff, old stuff, posting pics, etc.  

 Feel free to comment, but please keep it friendly. Assholery will not be tolerated.

To start with I just finished reading all of DC Comics Tales of the Dark Multiverse one shots. 

                                     I made this in MS Paint!

These started coming out in 2019 and the last one was released in early 2020. The idea behind each is Tempus Fuginaut, a sort of Watcher type character for the DCU (who I think debuted, or at least I fist remember seeing in the Sideways ongoing, a Dark Nights Metal spin off) observing the multiverse and introducing a story that takes an important moment in DC history and asks “what would have happened if things had gone differently?” DC’s version of What If?  in a nutshell.

       That’s Tempus Fuginauts big ol’ head in case you were wondering

 As the “Dark” in Tales of the Dark Multiverse might imply, these are not happy stories.

The first one shot that was released was Tales of the Dark Multiverse Batman Knightfall by Scott Snyder and Kyle Higgens with art by Javi Fernandez.  

This was probably my least favorite of the five issues. Since the “No Justice” mini series event I’m over Scott Snyder. I feel he has so many ideas rattling around in his head that he begins one story, gets too excited about the next one and leaves you underwhelmed with the current arc but dying to read the next. (That being said I of course checked out Batman Last Knight on Earth, having read his and Capullo’s entire New 52 Batman run I didn’t want to miss their “final” word on Batman, but have not read his just wrapped run on Justice League which I hear was quite good). 

I read this one right when it was released a few months ago, so my memory of it might not be the best.  

This one centers around the Knightfall event where Bane breaks Batman’s back and Jean Paul Valley/Azrael takes on the role of Batman. In this reality Bruce never recovers and Jean Paul remains Batman becoming Saint Batman, a Bats Azrael mash up. Javi Fernandez does a great job on the art and Snyder loves chopping people up. 

                                                      Gross.

Definitely worth the read if you’re interested in it or are a fan of Batman or just the Knightfall era. If you grab this series in collected format it’s not so bad that I recommend skipping it, just not my favorite from this batch of books. 

Next up is Tales of the Dark Multiverse Death of Superman by Jeff Loveness with art by Brad Walker and Andrew Hennessey. I really enjoyed this one, it was a good quick read and had a nice arc to it. One of the better issues from this series if you’re asking me.

Right after Superman dies defeating Doomsday in the Death of Superman story arc, the rest of the Justice League shows up, literally as the blood is drying.Ten seconds too late. Lois Lane blames Supes’ death on the heroes for not being there to aid him. 

She makes her way to the Fortress of Solitude and thanks to the Eradicator gets herself all the powers of Superman. She then goes about dishing out justice, with extreme prejudice, to the villains the heroes normally let the revolving doors of the DC justice system handle. This involves a couple of great scenes with Batman and Lex Luthor. Loveness nails the dialogue and the character arc he puts Lois on is great to read. 

                                  Walker and Hennesey do it again!

There’s more to this story than I’ve put here, but I don’t want to say too much and ruin your enjoyment of it if/when you read it.

Special shout out to the art team of Brad Walker and Andrew Hennessey. I feel like they don’t get enough love. They killed it on the Demon Hell is Earth mini, and from what I can tell are crushing it on Detective Comics. Dudes can draw. Spread the word!

Then we move onto Tales of the Dark Multiverse Blackest Night by Tim Seeley and Kyle Hotz. 

This one was a bit wordy, but a lot of fun! I would put this one in the middle of the pack. 

Seeley brings together an interesting bunch of characters including Sinestro, Dove, Lobo and the New Gods! The plot is a little complex, but basically after the Color Corps lose the battle against Nekron in Blackest Night, Sinestro is looking for a way to undo the damage done and becomes a pawn in Scott Free’s plot to do the same. 

Give Seeley a Lobo book or a Hawk and Dove book, or a Mister Miracle book!. He gives each character a unique voice which makes their joint travels through the plot that much more fun to read.

Kyle Hotz’s  art in this issue reminds of a 90’s Image Comic in the best possible way. Lots of detail and cool poses. I also see a lot of Bernie Wrightson in there with Hotz’s heavy use of black and the sinewy musculature of the characters. The book is worth the price of admission to see his renditions of Dove and Mister Miracle. 

                                                          kewl!

 I’m glad to see Hotz working more or just seeing more of Hotz’s work. I don’t know if he fell out of the industry after drawing the original The Hood mini for Marvel with Brian K. Vaughan, working with Eric “The Goon” Powell on Billy the Kid’s Old Timey Odditys, doing art on Carnage Mind Bomb and more I’m sure ( I just can’t remember it all), or I just wasn’t paying attention to what he was working on. If it’s the later, shame on me, if it’s the former, welcome back Mr. Hotz, you’re crushing it and I look forward to seeing more from you. Check out more Kyle Hotz work by following him on Instagram @kylehotzcomics.

Let’s not neglect the oft overlooked inkers! I’m not sure who inked what, but on a guess, Dexter Vines and Walden Wong brought a smooth, cleanness to the proceedings with lots of nicely tapered lines. Again just guessing here, because I don’t know for sure, but Danny Miki used a finer line bringing a scratchy-ness the others didn’t but also amazing detail and clarity on some of the portraiture in the later half of the book. 

Who’s next? Why it’s Tales of the Dark Multiverse Infinite Crisis!

This one may have been my favorite. When the original Infinite Crisis series came out it was a period  where, due to personal lack of enjoyment, I wasn’t reading much of DC’s output, but I did read the Countdown to Infinite Crisis one shot this issue takes as it’s jumping off point. After having read this issue, it makes me want to go back and read Infinite Crisis. I would say that’s the sign of a good issue.

In this alternate reality Blue Beetle, Ted Kord, kills Maxwell Lord instead of vice versa, making himself the head of Checkmate. He then goes about trying to prevent the coming crisis. It’s kind of a tale about absolute power corrupting absolutely, it’s also an underdog tale about getting in over your head.

                Sorry if these images aren’t the best, I’m new at this!

James Tynion IV does a great job catching you up on any old DC continuity plot points you may have forgotten or never knew about in the first place.If you’re reading Tynion’s current run on Batman, or his work on Detective Comics and Justice League Dark, you know he can handle a complex plot like this and does a great job condensing it all down to a single issue.  Aaron Lopresti and Matt Ryan handle the art and they do a great job. Always happy to see Lopresti’s name on a book I want to read.

Bonus points: You can never have too many Ted Kord, Blue Beetle comics, especially when Booster Gold pops up, even if only momentarily. 

If this series leaves you wanting more Blue and Gold action may I direct you to Booster Gold (2nd series) #32 thru about 38ish for some quality comics.

Final one, Tales from the Dark Multiverse the Judas Contract!

I’m not as old as my writing may imply so I had to read the Judas Contract in collected format about 20 years after it was originally released and after having seen it on many a fanzine’s (Wizard) best of list.  When I finally got to read it I wasn’t super familiar with the Titans of the era and already knew the big twist in the story, so it just washed over me without any great effect. None of the shock that someone who was reading it fresh in the 80’s might have experienced. 

I ended up liking this twisted take on the Judas Contract much more than when I read the original. “Sacrilege!” I know, I know, but like I said there was no surprise when I first read it, while this one zigged instead of zagging multiple times and kept upping the ante in scale. 

Kyle Higgins and Matt Groom do a great job reinventing a classic that I’m sure many people had high expectations for. This was a fun faced paced tale.  I enjoyed the hero moments Dick Grayson and Wally West were given. Like the Knightfall one shot Higgins co-wrote with Snyder there’s no shortage of dismemberment and disfiguration, which is neither a plus or minus in this situation, just thought it was worth noting.

Tom Raney handles the art chores here and he does a fine job.  Some of the figures seem a little squat, and their heads are too big in certain panels. Could I do better? No, so who am I to say anything? I just noticed it, here and there, it took me out of the flow of the story every now and then. That’s all. Big fan of his work on Stormwatch and Outsiders with Judd Winick. I also hear he’s super nice, so if you’re ever at a convention where Tom Raney is, seek him out! 

                                      They seem squat, right?

It’s worth mentioning these books are all done in DC’s prestige format and are extra long at about 48 pages each. All covers are by the fantastic Lee Weeks. A nice way to spend the afternoon.

There’s the first post. A little longer than I thought it would be. If you made it this far, I hope it was clear and you understood what I was saying and I hope you liked it and want to return for more. 

Until next time!

[jahaanofmenaphos]

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

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TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 09: OUR SPIRITS, KINDRED

QUEST SUMMARY:

When Ariane is kidnapped and the signs point to Sliske, Jahaan is forced to confront the Mahjarrat once again. But this time, things take a turn for the twisted, and Jahaan uncovers the truth behind Sliske’s obsession with him. Can Jahaan survive Sliske’s games? After all, broken bones heal faster than a broken mind…

CHAPTER 3: METHOD OF MADNESS

Leaving the wight-turned-dragonkin staring blankly into the distance behind him, Jahaan walked through into the next chamber. There, it wasn’t just Ozan and Ariane who he saw. No, alongside the huddled up couple were Major Mary Rancour, Sir Tendeth, and Idria - one of the Guardians of Armadyl.

“Sliske got you all too, huh?” Jahaan drawled, exchanging a small nod of greeting to the Major, who looked just as worldweary as Jahaan sounded. “Is everyone alright?”

Nodding, Idria assured, “Yes, the Brothers have been guarding us, but we’re okay. Do you know what this is about?”

“I can shed some light on that,” Sliske faded into view, looming over the gathered group.

Mary Rancour snapped around, heatedly demanding, “Sliske! Release us all at once!”

“No! I will release you gradually!”

The Major blinked. “...what?”

“While you’re trying to figure that one out, this is how this is going to go,” Sliske started wringing his hands, his voice developing a wicked overtone. “As you may have realised, we are no longer in Daemonheim. I welcome you all to my new humble abode, after the Zamorakians made a mess of my last one. Jahaan here is our guest of honour, and you’re all going to help him through these little trials of mine. You’ll find out the details as we go, but I’ve put a lot of thought into them, so I do hope you have fun!”

Utterly baffled, Jahaan shook his head and replied, “Why do you think I'll do this, Sliske? This is madness! Worse, this is nonsense! What is the point of all this? Just to get me to jump through hoops?”

“In reverse order: not exactly, it's a secret, no it isn't, it kind of is… and because I'll kill more of the hostages if you don't.”

Jahaan faltered. “M-More of...?”

Sliske raised an arm; the cowering Sir Tendeth screamed as he was lifted into the air, surrounded by a purple aura. After a couple of seconds of being held up, he dropped dead.

“By the gods!” Mary Racour gasped, stumbling backwards. Even Idria, normally courageous to the point of being foolhardy, had to reconsider intervention. She was powerless without her rune stones, after all.

Jahaan watched the corpse fall to the ground with a dull thump, and a thick lump rose in his throat. "Sliske..." 

Unphased by the horror he’d just inflicted, Sliske continued, “You see, there is a reason for all this, Jahaan. Two, in fact. The one you'll get now is that I'll present the Staff of Armadyl to you when you are done.”

Idria’s head shot up, fully alert. “You’ll what?!”

“I’ll give him the Staff of Armadyl,” Sliske reiterated, smiling innocently at Jahaan. “You see, soon the Staff of Armadyl would have outlived its usefulness for me. So, here’s the deal: play along with my games, and it’s yours, to go all stabby-stabby on the gods if you so wish. You might liven up this dull period of my contest, after all. Plus, your little friends can go free, as an added bonus. What do you say?”

Jahaan’s eyes examined all the hostages carefully, apprehensively awaiting his response. He didn’t trust Sliske to be true to his word on this, naturally. He didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him. However, he also realised that there was no choice but to play along for now in the hopes that an escape opportunity would arise later down the line.

Sighing, Jahaan answered, “I have no choice. I'll play your stupid game.”

“My game isn't stupid, Jahaan. You'll see that very quickly. Now, there’s the door, so let's get moving!”

Sliske teleported away. After he did, Ozan rushed up to Jahaan and, in a hushed tone, asked, “Are you sure about this, Jahaan?”

“Not even slightly,” Jahaan gravely responded. “But we don't have much of a choice right now.”

To the group, he ushered them to come closer before he quietly said, “Everyone, keep your eyes out for a way to escape as we progress. The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”

When the group entered the large expanse Sliske had directed them to, they saw what looked like an arena. A fighting pit, more like. Desolate and unmaintained from centuries of abandonment.

Where the fuck are we? Jahaan wondered to himself, gazing at the ancient architecture. However, his curiosity was cut short like a bullet to the chest when he saw the other residents Sliske had summoned down in the pit.

They were six figures he recognised all too well, faces that were etched into his mind like carvings on a tree, determined to stand the test of time, to outlive him and all his other memories.

The ragged and torn clothing, along with the tangled mess of brunette hair that covered his blue eyes. He was exactly how Jahaan had found him that day in the cave. Cyrius.

Short and with an expression of perpetual annoyance, the grey haired gnome stood with his chest out and proud, defiant to the end. Hazelmere.

Covered in grey robes, he looked empty without the cocoon of steel armour protecting him, but his stoic expression was stronger than any shield. Turael.

Sporting a pompously flamboyant green hat that only someone like him could pull off, coupled with a perfectly trimmed moustache. Harrallak.

Dark red skin protruded from the slashes in his shirt, exposing the scaly flesh below. He looked completely unphased by the unfamiliar surroundings, ready to take on the world all over again. Mazchna.

Her beige robes covered her from head to toe, strands of ginger hair poking out from the sides of the hood, a fringe covering one of her steely green eyes. Lassyai.

Yes, Jahaan recognised them instantly, but they were all paler than normal, and they looked slightly… hollow.

“Lassyai!” Idria cried out, beginning to rush towards her fellow Guardian of Armadyl, until the blade of Dharok’s greataxe barred her journey.

Like he’d seen a ghost, Jahaan stumbled backwards, knocking into Ozan, who sported a similar expression of confused horror. “H-How are you all here?!”

“I can answer that,” Sliske’s self-satisfied voice echoed around them. “You see, I ‘borrowed’ these souls for today’s proceedings. Iccy’s going to be FURIOUS - I wish I could see the look on his face!”

“Jahaan!” Cyrius called out, a heart-melting smile on his battered-looking face. “Ozan! I’m so glad you’re both still alive.”

Jahaan felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. “Cyrius… all of you… I thought I’d never see you again...”

“Death is a great uniter,” Harrallack commented, dryly. “Then again, it seems ‘undeath’ is as well…”

Always straight to the point, Mazchna asked, “Do you know why we are here? Or how?”

“Yes, I was rather enjoying the afterlife,” Hazelmere cut in, irritably. “Then in a blink, I’m here. And it’s cold.”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll be back in the afterlife before you know it,” Sliske assured, a darkness in the edges of his voice. “How you get there, however, will be up to Jahaan. Which brings me to why I brought you all here. You see, Jahaan, you always blamed yourself for the death of these fine warriors. It was never your fault, you know. Well, until now, that is.”

Jahaan gulped. “What do you mean?”

“It’s simple, really,” Sliske continued, a wicked grin slashed onto his face. “These lovely men and women want to return to the afterlife. You’re going to help them get there. To do that, all you have to do is put them back to rest…”

Fear crept into Jahaan’s tone. “What do you mean by ‘put them back to rest’?”

Sighing, Sliske rolled his eyes. “Honestly, do I have to spell everything out to you? You’re going to have to kill them, Janny. One by one.”

Jahaan’s face was a picture of disgust. “I’m not doing that!”

“Oh I think you will, for if you don’t kill them, the Brothers will. Trust me, they’ll make it much more painful than you ever would. Whether they get a quick and merciful re-death is entirely up to you."

The shock subsided once Sliske’s words sunk in, replaced instead by something much more tangible, much more familiar: anger.

Rounding to where Sliske was perched, Jahaan gripped his fists into tight balls, teeth clenched so tightly they felt like they could shatter at any moment. “SLISKE!” he roared, saliva spitting uncontrollably, like venom from a rabid animal. “RELEASE THEM BACK TO THE AFTERLIFE NOW!”

Sliske’s response was deadly, bone-chillingly calm. “I already told you how to return them to the afterlife. There’s no need to yell.”

Before Sliske could even get the last syllable out, Jahaan had already began storming towards the stand inhabited by the Mahjarrat, fully intending to scale the brick work with his bare hands if he had to. However, the sudden shriek from behind him stopped him dead. Spinning around, Jahaan saw Guthan had the razor-edge of his spear tight against Ariane’s jugular, who flinched away in terror. In a flash, the six warriors had charged forwards, but a conjuring of shadow binds kept them in their places.

“Leave her alone!” Ozan cried, charging towards Guthan, but Torag knocked him to the ground, shattering his left ankle with one of his hammers.

The sickening crunch of the bone and Ozan’s subsequent scream made Jahaan quiver. Holding his hands up slightly, Jahaan tried to ease his shaking as he turned back to Sliske and stuttered, “O-Okay… okay I-I’m calm. P-Please don’t hurt him again.”

Smugly, Sliske replied, “I thought you would have figured this out by now: whoever gets hurt is entirely up to you. Understand?”

Nodding feverously, Jahaan agreed. “Yes, yes I understand. Please, don’t hurt them anymore. Please.”

Satisfied, Sliske nodded his head towards Guthan. The Brother released Ariane, and she immediately rushed to Ozan’s side.

Fighting his restraints, Tureal roared, “Sorcerer! Release us or pay the price!”

With a grin slashed into his face like it was carved by a crude blade, Sliske retorted, “I don’t think you’re in any position to make threats, Tureal. After all, you couldn’t even stop poor little Lucien, and I’m rather certain I’ve far surpassed his power by now.”

Huffing, Hazelmere loudly grumbled, “Can someone PLEASE tell me what is going on here?”

Lassyai blew a stray clump of ginger hair out from her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? He,” she jerked her head towards Sliske’s perch. “Is one of those Mahjarrat bastards, like Lucien. Sadistic, all of them. And he’s stolen the Staff of Armadyl!”

“But why?!” Hazelmere persisted, “What is going on?!”

“ENOUGH!” Sliske fiercely cut in, hushing the room to silence. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he rounded on the six warriors. “By the gods, I’m surprised you didn’t bicker Lucien to death. And here you were supposed to be Gielinor’s best and brightest. But the World Guardian knows what’s going on, don’t you, Janny?”

Through it all, however, Cyrius’ eyes had never left Jahaan. The World Guardian had been staring numbly into space until a broken murmur from Cyrius broke him out of his stupor. “Jahaan…?”

Gulping, Jahaan’s voice was fractured as he quietly explained. “This is Sliske. He wants to hurt me by getting me to hurt you. I don’t know why.”

Betrayed… the notion danced around in Jahaan’s mind, conjuring nausea in his stomach and bile in his throat. He wasn’t angry now - he was too tired for that. Instead, he was more… heartbroken.

Seeing his old friends. Seeing Ozan hurt and scared. Knowing what he had to do. Not knowing what else was to come. Not being in control of a damn thing.

And, above all, not knowing why.

“Just do it Jahaan,” Mary Rancour urged, anger biting into her frustration. “They’re already dead - it’s not like you’re actually killing them or anything. The sooner this is over, the sooner we can leave.”

“Yes, do it, World Guardian,” Sliske malevolently echoed, waving away the restraints of the warriors as he did so. He motioned to Verac and Karil; the former handed Jahaan a blade, thin like a kitchen knife, while the latter aimed his crossbow at Idria. “Or do you need further encouragement?”

Weighing up the blade in his hand, he turned towards the warriors, all regarding him with a cocktail of confusion and apprehension.

Unsurprisingly, Hazelmere was the first to speak. “Well, get on with it then! What do I care if you kill me again? I just want to go back to the peace and quiet.”

Sniffing a laugh, Turael turned a challenging glance to Sliske as he added, “Yeah, means nothing to me. Have at it, Jahaan.”

The others cut in with similar resistant barbs, focused on either trying to rattle Sliske, calm Jahaan’s nerves, or perhaps both.

Jahaan knew they didn’t fully comprehend what was going on, or why, or even how. But he recognised the main thing, and that was they were doing in death what they always did in life - they were supporting their comrade.

Despite everything, he forced a weak, defiant smile. “Your plan backfired, Sliske. You’ve given me the chance to do something I’ve wanted to do for years. You’ve allowed me to say goodbye.”

But as the blade bit down on Hazelmere’s thin skin and he looked deep into those blue eyes, the fear and nerves and sickness all came flooding back. Defiance had crumbled, but that was internally. Externally, he tried his damn best to keep his resolve steady. Then again, the hesitation no doubt gave it away.

He didn’t want to give Sliske the satisfaction of watching him break.

“Hurry up,” Hazelmere grumbled; Jahaan knew it was for his sake, not out of genuine annoyance. This was the only way Hazelmere knew how to be supportive. “My feet are aching, and I had tea brewing.”

Sniffing a faint chuckle, Jahaan whispered, “Goodbye, Hazelmere.”

In one swift motion, the first deed was done. There wasn’t much in the way of blood, but the way his body crumpled to the ground, a dull and lifeless thud, brought back the painful vision of the first time he saw Hazelmere fall.

Mustn’t give Sliske the satisfaction, Jahaan reminded himself, swallowing hard and blinking back the salty tears threatening the edges of his eyes as he moved onto Turael, then Harrallak, then Mazchna, then Lassyai.

The last was Cyrius.

He looks just as beautiful as he always did, Jahaan found himself ruminating, gazing into his warm blue eyes through blurred vision. Blinking himself back into clarity, a few stray tears escaped down his cheek, and he didn’t have the will to brush them away. Cyrius didn’t give him a look of pity, though. His serene smile encapsulated his contentment as he said, “Do you remember that trip we took to Baxtorian Falls? We camped out there for days, watching the leaping salmon and trout dancing through the air.”

This thought broke Jahaan; he choked back a sob, trying to mask it inside a laugh. “How could I forget? You burnt everything we caught.”

Cyrius chuckled now, a full-bodied chuckle filled with warmth and comfort. “Do you remember how we got back down the waterfall?”

Jahaan felt like his heart momentarily stopped. “I-I do…” he stammered out, swallowing down the large lump in his throat.

Cyrius looked on the brink of tears now. “I was so scared of jumping in that whirlpool. You told me people did it all the time and lived to tell the tale, but still. Remember how you took my hand, and you led me to the bridge,” Cyrius reached out and lightly took Jahaan’s hand in his, the one with the knife. “If you hadn’t held onto me I swear I would have chickened out. Tell me, honestly, were you sure we were going to make it?”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Jahaan confessed, “Honestly? I guess not.”

“Me neither,” Cyrius replied. Jahaan could see his own reflection through the water in Cyrius’ eyes. “But you know what? I didn’t care. If we hadn’t made it out, I wouldn’t have cared, because right there and then, everything was perfect.”

Cyrius wrapped Jahaan’s fingers around his own. “Because you are perfect.”

Suddenly, Cyrius leant forward and planted a deep kiss on Jahaan’s lips. But before Jahaan could even register what was happening, Cyrius pulled away, and he had taken the dagger with him.

Jahaan barely opened his mouth before Cyrius slit his own throat with the blade.

When Jahaan climbed the ramp out of the pit, Sliske was there to greet him, clapping slowly. “Good show, Janny. Good show indeed!”

Jahaan didn’t stop, he just stormed right past Sliske and towards the entrance to the next chamber.

The doors creaked open slowly, allowing Jahaan to enter. When they closed behind him again, he leant back against the door and tried to steady his breathing. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, so he clenched them into balled fists, squeezing so hard his fingers started to turn purple. Chattering teeth thrummed in time with his rapid heartbeat, while waves of nausea threatened to overwhelm him.

Calm down, Jahaan hissed internally, There’s no time for this now. You have to focus. Pull yourself together

Trying to swallow his feelings like bile in his throat, Jahaan prepared to embrace Sliske’s latest torture chamber. In front of him he saw two incredibly large god statues - one of Saradomin and one of Zamorak - with an eerily familiar looking gentleman attached to them. Blue and red chains held him taut in a crucifix position. Upon closer inspection, it appeared as if they were actually pulling him in both directions, agonisingly stretching his limbs. Above him towered a tall statue of a very sadistic looking Mahjarrat.

Hurrying over, Jahaan could only look on in abject horror as the man’s body shook against the tension, quivering in pain. But when he got close enough to see his face, Jahaan felt like throwing up. “You!”

Blonde hair, parted at the side, but messy, like a comb-over had gone wrong. Dark eyes, empty and lifeless. The man was an animated corpse.

And a long, thin scar across his throat.

“Sir Tenly,” Jahaan could actually feel the bile forming in his throat as he uttered the name. The former White Knight’s eyes fell on Jahaan, a flash of panic, desperation and anger all in one nanosecond.

“You! You’re the- ARGG!” the pain of the chains cut him off, but he was determined to finish, teeth gritted as he spat, “you’re the bastard that murdered me!”

Jahaan flinched backwards, eyes wide and bloodshot. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by another scream of pain from Sir Tenly.

Desperately, with a face creased and a brow strained, Sir Tenly hissed, “You have to help me - these things are tearing me apart!”

“Yes, they are, aren’t they, Sir Tenly?” Sliske taunted, his disembodied voice echoing around them. “Jahaan, this one is very simple: Sir Tenly is being torn between two gods, Saradomin and Zamorak. You have to figure out which one doesn't have a claim on his soul and make them let go.”

Sir Tenly’s arms struggled against the chains. “Saradomin is my lord and light! Aaaargh!”

“Then that's simple, isn't it? All you need is a key to Zamorak's chains. There is a machine for making them over in the other room where your friends are. They just need to put a hand into that little box to power the machine.”

Already feeling like he knew the answer, Jahaan warily inquired, “And what happens when they do?”

The Mahjarrat replied, “Ah. Well, if I told you, that’d ruin the surprise now, wouldn’t it?”

Jahaan could practically feel Sliske’s smirk.

“Hurry! Do it! Free me!” Sir Tenly beseeched, “My vitals feel like they are being sliced apart!”

“Well, that might be because I hid the Saradomin key in there…”

Jahaan choked on the lump in his throat. “What?!”

“If you think maybe Saradomin has less of a claim on Sir Tenly than he declares, all you have to do is dig it out. I’ll let the two of you have a nice reunion. Have fun!”

Hesitantly, Jahaan edged closer to Sir Tenly, his eyes stinging with tears in them. The man whose life he cut short, all over a stupid insult.

Jahaan gulped. Now he’s here, suffering again, thanks to me...

He didn’t know what to do; his mouth hung open like a dumbstruck animal, his feet nailed to the floor. It wasn’t until another cry of pain from Sir Tenly snapped him out of his trance.

“Why is this happening to me?!” Sir Tenly wailed, face contorted with agony. “I was a good Saradominist! Who is this- ARG! This MONSTER?!”

Gulping, Jahaan tried to straighten his thoughts out enough to tentatively reply. “It’s not you. He’s… he’s doing this to get to me. It’s one of his sick games.”

"You're putting an unfair amount of the blame on me, don’t you think, Janny?” Sliske cackled, menacingly. “After all, you were the one who sent this man to an early grave. How can you call me ‘sick’ or ‘twisted’ or evil’ when you’re nothing but a cold-blooded murderer yourself, hm?”

Sliske’s words cut through Jahaan like a knife through raw chicken, chilling his very core. It was Sir Tenly who pulled him out of his own mind.

“Who even is this monster?!” Sir Tenly exclaimed, but after another sharp hiss of pain, he corrected, “Nevermind, I don’t care - just get the Zamorak key and get me out of here!”

The Zamorak keys can only be forged from pain, while the ‘light’ of Saradomin tears Sir Tenly up inside, Jahaan darkly realised, watching the corpse in front of him writhe in pain. His head was still reeling from Sliske’s previous truth. What poetic irony, Sliske.

“What are you still standing there for?!” Sir Tenly strained against his chains. “Get the key, NOW!”

Exhaling a shuddering breath, Jahaan declared, “O-Okay, I’ll get the Zamorak key.”

“Hurry! I don’t know how much more I can take!”

Resolving himself, Jahaan rushed over to the doorway separating himself from his comrades, who had been ushered into a small box-like room that extended into his chamber. He knew exactly what he was about to ask of his friends, but there was little choice in the matter. Pressing up against the door, he shouted through, “I need a Zamorak key.”

“A what key?” a puzzled Ozan called back.

“Long story short, Sir Tenly is strung between two statues,” Jahaan hurried to explain. "I need to unlock the statue of the god who does not have a claim on his soul. So, I need a Zamorak key.”

“Who’s Sir Tenly?” Major Mary Rancour inquired.

“Not important,” Ozan cut in, sparing Jahaan from having to explain himself, for which Jahaan was incredibly grateful. Small mercies, after all.

Back on track, Ariane asked, “How do we give you that key?”

Jahaan hesitated, the guilt setting in. “Is… is there a machine in there with you?”

Idria confirmed that there was.

“One of you needs to put your hand inside it. It’s… it’s going to hurt, but Sliske said that’s the only way to get the key.”

Hands on her hips, Idria protested, “Why do we need to get hurt over this Sir Tenly’s sake?”

“Because Sliske will hurt us all if you don’t.”

Idria countered, “But how do we know he won’t just hurt us anyway?”

Echoing around them, Sliske cheerily conceded, “She has a good point. I am a terrible person.”

Idria waved her hands to the sky, satisfied at being proven right yet again.

“The thing is, my dear, if you don’t play along, well…” Sliske warned, “Remember dear old Sir Tendeth? Lived up to his name, didn’t he…”

Biting his lip, Jahaan said, “I’m sorry guys. I need that key.”

Exhaling deeply, Ozan was the first to declare, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Ariane gave his hand a light, reassuring tug before he limped over to the machine. There was a little box that opened as he approached. A metal grill was on the bottom inside it.

Wincing, Ozan cautiously edged his hand inside, and the box clamped down to secure him there. 

The scream was earth-shattering as blue fire rose from the grill and engulfed Ozan’s hand.

When he was released, he fell to the ground clutching his scorched palm.

The sound made Jahaan feel sick, but he steeled himself through the waves of nausea. “Ozan, I’m so sorry…” he mumbled, but he doubted anyone could hear.

The next thing he knew, a key was placed through the letterbox-sized flap to his right.

The sounds of Sir Tenly’s wailing snapped Jahaan back into focus; scrabbling to grab the key, he hurried over to the Zamorak statue and tried to unlock it.

Tragically, the key broke in the lock.

“What’s happening?!” Sir Tenly demanded.

Jahaan heavy-heartedly called back, “The key broke!”

“Useless sandboy!” Sir Tenly hissed. “Do it right this time!”

The hairs on the back of Jahaan’s neck stood up and he froze, utterly, clenching the broken end of the key tightly into his fist. He couldn’t quite tell if it was in his imagination or not, but he swore he heard Sliske laughing.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he ignored Sir Tenly and went back over to the large door, shouting through, “Guys, the key broke in the lock. I’m so sorry, but I need another.”

Sighing, Mary Rancour volunteered, “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Despite telling herself she didn’t want to give Sliske the satisfaction of hearing her scream, her shriek was incredibly high pitched.

Taking the key, Jahaan went to unlock the Zamorak statue again. Alas…

“It broke again!” Jahaan exclaimed, his shoulders sagging.

“Are you kidding me?!” Sir Tenly replied. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“I’m not!” Jahaan snapped back, indignantly. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but out of anyone, he was glad it was someone like Sir Tenly up there and not one of his friends.

He walked significantly slower this time over to the door. “Hey guys, I need another key…”

Idria did not look impressed. “Of course you do.”

Shaking his head, Jahaan said, “I don’t know what to tell you.”

Grumbling, Idria replied, “I guess I’ll do it then.”

A hand, a box, a flame, a scream, a key.

And again, it broke in the lock.

Sliske’s voice floated tauntingly around them. “Hmm it broke again… I wonder why that is, Sir Tenly…”

The realisation Jahaan had been fighting back since the second key broke crawled across Jahaan’s skin. Walking up the steps to Sir Tenly, he somberly announced, “I need the Saradomin key, Sir Tenly. There’s no other way.”

“What are you talking about?” Sir Tenly gruffly protested. “The Saradomin key won't unlock the chains. All you'd be doing is symbolically removing my love for him, just like that monster wants!”

“I’m sorry… I have to…”

“NO!” Sir Tenly bellowed. “I am a White Knight of Saradomin! Get a Zamorak key and release me!”

Gulping, Jahaan stepped closer. “I’m sorry.”

“No! I follow my lord willingly!” Sir Tenly desperately resisted, his fearful eyes quivering.

Having to force his hand closer to Sir Tenly’s soft, undead stomach, Jahaan whispered, “I’m so sorry…”

With a sickening squelch, Jahaan’s fingers stabbed into Sir Tenly’s belly. As the knight writhed in torment, he felt his fingertips knock against something metallic.

“Mercy! Please, stop this torture!” Sir Tenly desperately begged, his head shooting around in all directions as his body convulsed with agony.

Jahaan was shaking, his heart breaking at the pained sobs of a proud knight, no matter how ignorant or rude that knight could be. Reaching in further, he felt his hand brush against dusty organs. The sensation made Jahaan gag.

“Please stop! You’re tearing me in half! ARRRRGGGG!”

Finally, Jahaan managed to hook two fingers onto the teeth of the key, but it didn’t budge easily. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he woefully declared, “Sir Tenly, I have to pull harder. I’m sorry.”

As he began to pull, Sir Tenly unleashed a blood-curdling scream. “ARRRRGGGG! Please stop the pain! My god, why are you letting this happen?!”

Jahaan felt the key catch on Sir Tenly’s ghostly insides as he pulled harder.

“Will the truth make it end?!“ Sir Tenly was in tears at this point, head hung low as he cried out, “ALRIGHT! I'm a Zamorakian! Now please, LET THIS END!” 

Finally, the key came free with a ‘slurp’, covered in whatever juices were left of Sir Tenly’s insides.

Refusing to give into his nausea at this second, Jahaan raced towards the Saradomin statue. Unsurprisingly, the key fit perfectly, unlocking Sir Tenly’s chains. As Sir Tenly swung loosely towards the Zamorak statue, the Saradomin statue toppled over backwards at the loss of contact, knocking a large hole in the wall behind it.

Satisfied that Sir Tenly was free, Jahaan realised nothing was holding him back now, and thus he threw up. A lot.

Once that was out of his system, and most of the goo had been wiped off his hand, Jahaan staggered back over to Sir Tenly, who had become free from all his chains now. “Are you alright?”

Clutching his stomach, Sir Tenly shot him a deadly glare. “You ripped a key from my chest and revealed my true Zamorakian faith, proving I’m a heretic. Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

Jahaan forced a hollow smile. “Sarcasm - that means you’re good to go.”

As quickly as he could, he rushed back over to his friends and hissed through the door, “Guys, are you alright? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, we’re holding up,” Ozan assured, but the shivering laced in his voice betrayed him. “What about you?”

“Sir Tenly’s free,” Jahaan dodged the question. “The fallen statue knocked out a part of the wall. I’m going to see if it leads to a way out. Can you guys keep Sliske busy while I do that?”

“We’ll try,” Idria replied, biting her lip. “Don’t be long though. If you get outside, bring reinforcements back with you. I don’t trust Sliske to keep his word about the Staff, but as long as we can corner him here, we have a chance of getting it back.”

Mary Rancour concurred, “Indeed. We have to use this situation to our advantage. Good luck out there, Jahaan.”

“Same to you, everyone,” Jahaan replied, but he hesitated before leaving. He wanted to say something else, something reassuring and confident to try and keep everyone’s head above water. But knowing he’d no doubt sound as scared as he felt, he held back.

With that, Jahaan hurried over to the hole in the wall, slipping behind cover wherever he could, and entered the caved in tunnel. From the lack of protest on Sliske’s part, he seemed to get away with it.

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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[narutoocgallery]

I mostly want a full review of my character, You may publish if you like, i wouldn’t mind. :) Thank you!!

General

Name: Megumi Yoko

Age: (Part I) 12-13 (Part II) 15-17

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Blood Type: O-

Birthday: October 18 (Libra)

Personality: Peace loving, Elegant, Irresolute (very hesitant), Diplomatic, Idealistic, Avoids head-on arguments ( Just like how she fights lol) and Mellow

Good Trait(s): Diplomatic, Tactful, fair-minded, Peaceful, Calm.

Bad Trait(s): Detached, Indecisive, avoids confrontations, will carry a grudge

Like(s): gentleness, sharing with others, the outdoors, sweets, swimming, warm water/weather, the sounds of moving water, and Harmony.

Dislike(s): loudmouths, conformity, Dry areas, large social groups, Snow, Given to many opinions, Difficult decisions and Short range fights.

Hobby(ies): Swimming!, and Sewing

Fear(s): thunder/lightning, abandonment (or being alone), being forgotten or not remembering things, and being buried alive.

Strength(s): Water Areas (Ocean, Lakes, Rivers, etc) Water style jutsus, and Swimming,

Weakness(es): Lighting style jutsus, Strong Fire style jutus, Dry areas, and heat

Personal Quote: “…well ya know…”

History: (Sorry if this sucks)

Megumi was born in the hidden mist village, her mother and father were respected ninja of the mist. After Marriage Megumi’s mother was shortly pregnant And became a stay at home mom. Megumi’s father kept being a ninja and was away from home a lot, this was normal. One Afternoon when Megumi was 6 years old Megumi’s home was broken into by rough ninjas

Megumi’s mother was out-numbered and she knew she had no chance to live though this but she wanted to save Megumi. She hide Megumi away and told her to not come out no matter What she heard, Megumi was hidden in a closet ( if the rough knew about her or not they left her.) Megumi’s mother was killed, her body was left on the floor to bleed out.

Once it was quiet Megumi peeked out to only see her dead mother on the floor in a pool of blood. Megumi sat down next her dead mother, she was covered in blood but she seemed to have zoned out. She didn’t Leave her mother’s body until her father came home and pulled her away.

At the age of 8 Megumi started growing scales on her feet/legs. This was a passed down trait in her father’s family that skipped him but got to Megumi. She tried her best to hide them from everyone

at school and in the village but it wasn’t hidden for so long. The kids at her school found out about her scales and she became out casted and labeled as a “Freak”. This made socializing with others hard for her. She didn’t make a real friend until she was 12 and got put into a team with Yachi and Takeshi who became her friends.

Megumi’s Father wasn’t around as much as he wanted to, He had many missions he had to do and had to be away for long periods of time. Megumi’s father loved her without question and that is why he did so many missions. He always left her in the cable hands of the village elders who treated her better than any kids at school. Megumi had a hard time calling the elders her friends but they were all she had at that time.

Looks and Appearance

Body Type/Looks: Thin and Pale

Height: (Part I) 147cm [4'10] (Part II) 155cm (5'1)

Weight: (Part I) 33.9 kg (Part II) 39.8

Makeup/Facepaint: None

Hairstyle(s): (Part I) Long, Curly Purple hair tied up in a ponytail. (Part II) Long, Curly purple hair that is wore down and ends at her mid-back.

Accessories: Small Gord that holds Water/(part II only) Poison water.

Scent: Wet Strawberrys.

Scars or Tattoos: has some small cuts on her left forearm. (It’s always covered)

Jewelry and/or Piercings: None.

 Traits: Her Feet/Cafs are covered in scales, these help her swim and stay longer under water.

Relationships

Parent(s):

Ryuunosuke Yoko (Father)

About: Ryuunsuke is a respected ninja of the hidden mist, He is well known for his powerful Water wolf jutsu that he kept in his own family.  

Tomomi Yoko (Mother)

About: Tomomi was a beautiful women and was much liked in her village; She was once a powerful Ninja but stopped when she got married to Ryuunsuke Yoko; Soon after their marriage, She becomes pregnant. She has her first child; Megumi. As Tomomi was at home; their home was raided by thugs against the mist village. Tomomi was killed; She managed to save her daughter.

Sibling(s): None-

Relative(s): None besides mum and pops.

Best Friend(s):

Yachi (+Teammate)

About: Yachi and Megumi were put in team together, Over the years of fighting together they became best friends. Megumi trusts Yachi more than anyone else in the Hidden mist village.

Friend(s):

Takeshi (+Teammate)

About: Takeshi and Megumi where put together in a team; Trust was low at beginning because of Takeshi’s quiet and miss-trusting looks. But slowly they began to trust and get along better, the more missions they went on and they got to know each other.

Sensei(s):

Yori-Sensei:

About:  Yori-sensei is the ring leader of Megumi’s Team. Not much is known about Yori, besides that Is powerful enough to go toe-to-toe with kakashi of the hidden leaf.

Student(s): Megumi couldn’t teach a monkey to breathe.

Crush(es)/Spouse/Bf/Gf:

Gaara of the Sand.

About: Gaara and Megumi didn’t start out liking each other. Megumi was incurably scared of Gaara after his fight with Rock Lee and even more so when Gaara’s demon was unleased. Megumi avoided Gaara for a long awhile. Her fear disappeared when she finally saw that Gaara wasn’t the monster he used to be.

Megumi ran into Gaara (and his siblings) why out on a mission with her team. Her fear of him was still their but he proof that he has changed.

Rival(s): Nah.

Enemy(ies): nah.

Pet(s): No pets

Favorites/Least Favorites

Food(s): Namagashi (type of wagashi, which is a general term for snacks used in the Japanese tea ceremony.) Taiyaki ( “baked sea bream,” is a Japanese fish-shaped cake.)

Drink(s): Green Tea, Calpis Water

Color(s): Blue, Black

Season(s): Spring

Time of Day: Afternoon (2:00am-6:00am)

Weather: Semi-Summer with Clouds.

Flower: Dahlia

Animal: Wolf/Dog

Ninja Information

Birth Village: Hidden Mist

Current Village: (Part I) Mist (Part II) Sand

Academy Graduation Age: 12

Chunin Promotion Age: 14

Rank: (Part I) Genin (Part II) Chunin

Ninja Status: Villager

Are you in the Akatsuki?: Nah

Bijuu [Tailed Beast]?: Nah

Teammates: Yachi, Takeshi (Talked about in relationships)

Sensei: Yori-Sensei

Nindo: “Fight to be remembered.”

Chakra Element: Water

Weapon(s): (Part I) Kunai, Water (Part II) Kunai, Poison water

Jutsu’s

(Part I)

*Water Wolf Jutsu - Family/Clan based

Rank: B-Rank

Range: Vary

*Water Style: Wild Wolf Fang Jutsu- Family/Clan based.

Rank: C-Rank

Range: Long Range

Water Style: Raging Waves (Rank-C)

Rank: C-Rank

Range: Short to mid range

Ninja Art: Hidden Mist Jutsu (Rank-D)

Rank: D-Rank

Range: All Ranges

Water Clone Jutsu (Rank-D)

Rank: D-Rank

Range: All Ranges

(Part II)

Water Beast Jutsu ( X headed water wolf)

Rank: B-Rank

Range: Long Range

Water Style: Marine Battle Formation Jutsu

Rank: C-Rank

Range: Short to Mid Range

Water Style: Mount of the Serpent

Rank: B-Rank

Range: Long Range

Water Style: Poison Rain Jutsu

Rank: C-Rank

Range: Long to mid Range

Water Style: Poison Dart Jutu

Rank: B-Rank

Range: Long Range

Water Style: Water Whip Jutsu

Rank: B-Rank

Range: Short to Mid Range

Water Style: Black Rain Jutsu (??)

Rank: ??-Rank

Range: Short

NINJA STATS

1 - 5: Horrible

6 - 8: Below average

9 - 10: Average

11 - 13: Above average

14 - 16: Talented

17 - 18: Gifted [This is Sannin level]

Strength in Jutsu

Ninjutsu [ninja techniques]: (I) 11 (II) 13

Genjutsu [illusion techniques]: (I) 7 (II) 8.5

Taijutsu [martial arts techniques]: (I) 9 (II) 11

Kekkei Genkai [bloodline traits]: (I,II) 0

Doujutsu [eye techniques]: (I,II) 0

Kinjutsu [forbidden techniques]: (II) 2

Fuuinjutsu [sealing techniques]: (II) 9

Strength in Missions

Intelligence:(I) 9 (II) 11

Wisdom: (I) 7 (II) 9

Strength: Physical: (I) 8 (II) 9, Water: (I) 10 (II) 13

Agility: (I) 9.5 (II) 12 (she’s good at running away lol)

Dexterity: (I) 8 (II) 10

Stamina: (I) 7 (II) 9.5

Constitution: (I) 1 hit O.K (II) 4 (Can take a hit but not many, She’s a distance fighter.)

Charisma: (I) 4 (II) 7

Comeliness: Cute as frick (I think she is.)

Chakra Control: (I) 10 (II) 14 (She needs the chakra control for 90% of her jutsu,)

Cooperation: (I,II) 10 ( This doesn’t change much.) 

P.S Please take your time <3

General: 

Generally fine, with a few points to consider.

 a)      Her personality you describe as ‘peaceful’ and ‘calm’, which doesn’t sound like someone who carries a grudge. Also, someone who is indecisive wouldn’t make for a very diplomatic personality, I think.

b)     You can’t really like harmony but dislike conformity, as the opposites usually go hand-in-hand.

 History:

Again, generally fine, the level of violence and adaption to family life is realistic to Naruto. I like the idea of growing scales on the body. It’s a distinctive character trait – it’s a bit of a shame that you decided to cover them up in the character design – maybe as she gets older she becomes more comfortable showing them?

However, I’m not sure she would get bullied that hard over them. Biologically exaggerated Kekkai Genkais have been shown to be not uncommon in the Naruto world, and just having some scales on the bottom part of your legs doesn’t seem all that weird in comparison to be honest.

Also, why does her father leave her in the care of the village Elders specifically? You said the mother and father were well-respected in the village, but it doesn’t sound like they were actually on the council or anything, meaning there would be more convenient people to leave her in the care of; after all, Elders are busy people (I assume by Elders you mean members of the village councils – if you just mean older people in the village, disregard this last bit).

 Looks and Appearance:

Why does she smell of wet strawberries?

The biggest question here for me is how the leg scales help her swim/breathe underwater? If she had webbed feet I might understand that helping her swim, but scales wouldn’t do that. Also, scales wouldn’t affect her ability to breathe underwater – or do you mean just stay under the surface of the water? In which case the breath-holding thing would come into play again; most ninjas are trained to stay underwater as cover and hold their breath for a long time anyway. I can’t really see how this trait would help that.

 Relationships:

Family and teammates look nice and varied. Maybe put a bit more thought into her parents’ personalities and values? Many of these would be passed onto their daughter as they raised her.

It’s good that your character is consistently scared of Gaara; that’s good and realistic. Maybe think some more about how their relationship would develop past ‘her fear of him disappeared’.

 Justus and Abilities:

Well-balanced; she’s not overpowered and you have a good spread of abilities and ability progression. I assume many of the jutsus you mentioned are made up by you so I can’t really comment too much on that.

 Overall:

You obviously thought and planned out a lot about Megumi Yoko and it shows. She’s neither overpowered not overly weak. I really like her, but I feel like you could make her stand out a bit more. With a very introverted personality, it can be easy for these kinds of characters to feel less well-defined than others. Looking forward to where you take her from here :)

[girlobsessed21]

The 100 season 6 predictions #2

As promised, here’s another prediction post. I checked my previous one and most of it occurred or might still play out in some way. This time I’m not so confident but I try. My mom vetoed only two of the theories I discussed with her and she’s brutally honest, so that’s something, at least.

That said, I’ll start with the basics. 

The Episode guide

6x09 - What you take with you

UNLIKELY COMPANIONS - Bellamy must venture out into enemy territory with an unlikely companion. Meanwhile, Octavia is forced to confront her past.

This is also the title of the biography of Therese Greenwood about wildfires that destroy an entire community in Canada causing its inhabitants to flee to safety.

A snippet from Rich Malloy’s article ‘What’s In There? Only What You Take With You’ about Yoda’s teachings to Luke Skywalker in the cave. “As we move through life, facing challenges, enjoying moments, getting excited, or being calm, how we are in that moment depends on what we take with us. Did you get blindsided by a difficult conversation? You faced it with only what you took with you. Did you prepare for the meeting? You faced it with only what you took with you. Each day we have new caves to enter with unknown challenges to face, and we do so with only what we take with us.”

6x10 - Matryoshka

REUNITED – Russel seeks justice. Meanwhile, Gabriel must make a difficult choice. Lastly, the Blake siblings reunite

The following was taken from Kerry Kubilius’s article: The Origin of the Matryoshka, Russian Nesting Dolls

A matryoshka (plural: matryoshki) is a Russian nesting doll, and they are often simply called nesting dolls. It's pronounced mah-tree-YOSH-kah. These dolls open to reveal increasingly smaller versions of the same doll, one within another. The dolls can be pulled apart in the middle to reveal the next smallest doll, with the smallest doll being made of a solid piece of wood.

6x11 - Ashes to Ashes

Ashes to Ashes is a British crime drama series, serving as the sequel to Life On Mars. The series tells the story of Alex Drake (played by Keeley Hawes), a police officer in service with the London Metropolitan Police, who is shot in 2008 by a man called Arthur Layton and inexplicably regains consciousness in 1981.

"Ashes to Ashes" is a song written and recorded by David Bowie. Described as "containing more messages per second" than any single released in 1980, the song also included the plaintive reflection:

I've never done good things

I've never done bad things

I never did anything out of the blue

Instead of a hippie astronaut who casually slips the bonds of a crass and material world to journey beyond the stars, the song describes Major Tom as a "junkie, strung out in heaven's high, hitting an all-time low". 

'Ashes to ashes' derives from the English Burial Service. The text of that service is adapted from the Biblical text, Genesis 3:19 (King James Version):

“In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.”

6x12 - Adjustment Protocol

Adjustment - a small alteration or movement made to achieve a desired fit, appearance, or result

Protocol - the official procedure or system of rules governing affairs of state or diplomatic occasions

6x13 - The Blood of Sanctum

Fire. Blood. Romance. Death. A glorious return. A shocking end that will change everything forever.

Blood Sanctum is a combat anomaly that can be found in null security space with Blood Raiders presence.

Blood globally represents life itself, as the element of divine life that functions within the human body. ... Blood and WINE are interchangeable symbols; in Chinese symbolism, blood and WATER are associated as complementaries, as THE YIN AND THE YANG. The term cold blood refers to unfeeling.

I’ll get into more details below but what I take from all of this is that the primes cannot continue to cheat death and that time dilation will play a big part in the series. Either in the current season or the next. 

Aboard the Eligius ship

Indra is back! Yes! I’ve called out to this awesome warrior in almost every analysis and finally, someone heard me. Kane will most certainly be less than pleased with his new body, but while he has it, he might as well put it to good use.

We’ve seen Abby’s downward spiral season after season, episode after episode, yet Kane’s transformation might be an all-time low. It’s known of drug addicts to purposefully re-invent themselves after hitting rock bottom. Abby Griffin stopped the pills and then focused all her energy on saving the man she loves, whose death was ultimately a subject of her addiction. 

He will certainly try and find a way to punish her for the selfishness and simultaneously rescue her from the compulsive behavior - he does still love her. How? By finding a way to undo what she did. They do not know how the mind-wipes work exactly. Kane would want to give Gavin his body back. So, if there’s a way, he’d want Abby to find it.

I don’t know if I’ll get used to Kane II. When I see Kane, I see Henry Ian Cusick. That body looked pretty dead to me but there might be a minuscule chance to save him. 

Kane’s new peaceful outlook will not involve killing the primes, but saving their hosts and protecting Sanctum. This is probably what he will conspire with Indra and Raven. Yeah, I doubt that plan will play out as they hope. Simone is still on that ship and will make life hard for them. 

Leaning on the Matryoshka themed episode, with the last of the dolls being a simple piece of wood. They’ve lived so many lives and come to see themselves as superior, that they’ve become cold and hollow through the centuries. Willing to do whatever it takes to maintain their immortality and power. Another fact, the dolls are all replicas, meaning Josephine must have matured into who she is by some sort of example from her parents. 

Daytrip 2.0 featuring Bellamy and Josephine

Bellamy is in for a bumpy ride in the woods. The sociopath will break him down and torture him to break free. My guess, she’ll use the betrayal tactic. Telling him that Clarke never really loved him, that she has always used him. That he wasn’t even in her mind when she took a peek. Only Lexa, Finn and Madi. She’ll try to make him believe that he’s not important to Clarke and that he should let her go.

We’ve seen some guy kill himself for Josie and Gabriel can’t shake her either, she’s clearly a master seductress. As a last resort, she might use these tactics to try and win Bellamy over. Make him fall for her using the body of the woman he loves? I’m not saying he’ll give into it, but hell it might be hard to resist. This will all be while watching her deteriorate.  

Reverting to the ‘what you take with you’ theme, how will he act in lieu of this information? Clarke apologized but does she really care? In season two she told him he should risk his life and go into Mount Weather, then left him in the end. In season three she chose to stay in Polis when he begged her to come home. In season five she left him to die in a fighting pit. They’ll have to sleep somewhere in the woods, perhaps Clarke finds another way to reach out to him.

When they reach their destination, Gabriel’s tough decision will obviously be Clarke or Josephine and when he saves Clarke, does he destroy Josephine? I doubt it. It won’t be the last we see of her. Octavia will beg him to save Clarke for her brother’s sake. This will somehow lead to peace between the siblings. She has A LOT to make up for, but it’s a start.

The Anomaly

A temporal anomaly is a disruption in the spacetime continuum which can be related to time travel. Temporal anomalies can take many forms and have many different effects, including temporal reversion, the creation of alternate timelines, and fracturing a vessel into different time periods.

The Octavia that returned looks like a younger version of herself. She may have lost her memories and be attacked by them once she takes a nap in the same way Clarke took a trip down memory lane. That is surely a night of terrors, reliving the Bloodreina phase. How will Bellamy react to this? 

Gabriel might see this as an opportunity to save both Clarke and the original Josephine. If it reversed Octavia’s age, won’t it do the same for them? They’re both in there, perhaps they can come out as younger versions of themselves? It fits into the Matryoshka theme.

The anomaly also picks up the soundwaves, implicating that they might have a way to contact the Eligius ship to collect them.

The synopsis of the finale states there will be a glorious return. I believe this is Diyoza coming back from the future, with Hope. Both her child and the abstract noun. If we’re going full-on time travel in season 7, she might contain the secret of how to stop the first Apocolypse. This is crazy, I know, if it’s where they’re headed, it will only happen in the series finale.

Sanctum’s blood

Russel will find Madi guilty for her attack. Maybe Jordan will explain that it’s not her actions, but the dark commander in her head which will lead to a painful exploration of the flame and perhaps even the destruction thereof. Although it seems like the writers are hesitant to let go.

Like I said in my previous analysis, Jade will turn on them and team up with Echo and Ryker to take them down from the inside. Unfortunately, there’s no way to communicate with the ship. Russel already said they’ll save Jordan’s life. If Ryker and Jordan can convince Priya, she might switch sides as well. 

Murphy is a bit of a conundrum. I still think those chips exist for a reason, yet Emori, the hero of the previous episode, convinced him that dying is an option. That she’ll love him forever even if the end is near. 

Anyway, Bellamy will most likely follow Kane’s plan with a bit more force aka guns and manpower. They’ll enter Sanctum to take out the primes but will ultimately walk into a war and have to fight it. 

Who’s on my deathdar?

Madi - Russel wants revenge. If he tries to take out the flame without the necessary knowledge, it might result in Madi’s death

Murphy and Emori - Their story is trudging dangerously close to happily ever after and that’s never a good sign on this show. Emori has also shown some great strength and character development. This might be the end for one or both of them if they don’t co-operate with Russel.

Gaia - She’s been outcasted to the dangerous woods, not sure how this will end when another eclipse appears.

Russel, Simone, and the other prime chips - Bellamy and his army might have to face countless tribulations to succeed but I believe they will eventually take them out.

Kane - If Abby doesn’t find a way to save his original body, I think he’s a goner.

The romance section

Right now there’s not much romance except for Memori, and that one scares me because it’s bittersweet. Remember the Marper moment in 5x08 where Monty asked Harper if she’ll still love him even if he’s just a farmer? This is following right in their footsteps.

Is Becho dead or alive? I’ve been called misogynistic and typical based on my Becho views but I’m not blind. I do not watch this show with shipper goggles. For a long time, I even thought Becho to be endgame. What in this season so far has broadcasted their relationship except for a sweet moment after Bellamy apologized for calling her an emotionless spy. 

What I think we might get a hint of is Jade and Echo based on what Tasya Teles said. Apparently, her favorite dynamic is between Echo and a new character. On another occasion, she said that Echo is bisexual. What would be better than this lesbian, mixed race pairing? They’re two badass female spies who will diminish the false gods from within. Who knows, we might see a spark.

Early on I saw a subtle hint of Raven and Ryker, but that’s on hold for now. It might turn in the future now that we’ve learned Ryker is on Gabriel’s side.

Xatavia or Gatavia - There was a momentary connection. I wrote about it last week, then some people told me they saw it too. I like it. I ship it. Okay, Octavia still has a long way to go within herself before she can pursue relationships with others but she’s making progress and I’m loving her this season. 

Jordan and Delilah/Priya - Perhaps Abby (and Gabriel) can find a way to bring the hosts back. If they can’t, Priya defended him, it might turn into something.

Mackson’s still going strong, I don’t see anything breaking them up.

Kabby is dead, by all means.

Bellarke - I wish I could be as positive about them as I was in my previous posts. What I see on screen, what I’ve watched for six seasons straight is the two of them within every romantic trope in the book. Now, once again, Bellamy is risking everything, leaving everyone behind to save her. People call him out on only caring about her. Bellamy is the one thing in Clarke’s mind she cannot face. He’s also her biggest regret. 

I never thought they’ll go the romantic route with Bellarke this season, Becho is still a couple, yet I banked on a confession of some sorts. I’ve read articles and seen tweets about misinterpretations on-screen which means they’ll remain platonic soulmates, for now. On the other hand, it’s bs. While discussing this with my mom, who does not ship, at all, she asked, “I’m waiting for the Bellarke theory...”

And all I had was Bellamy might head into the anomaly in the end and see this cute kid who makes his debut in the finale. He has the freckles and the hair, maybe it’s Bellarke’s child. But it could just be a young Bellamy. Or not related to him at all. What do you think? If it is, they won’t say it is but he’ll have a role to play in season seven.

Argue with me, I know I’m often wrong. Tell me about your theories, I’d love to hear them. Okay, until next week, bye.

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

ᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴇʙ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ -- Peter Parker fanfic (2/of many)

Part 1

I wake up as usual and follow my itinerary, as soon as I finish I prepare my backpack and walk to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast, I stop to see the whole committee. Everyone is already dressed to train. I step into the kitchen.

"Morning!" everyone says in unison and my eyes wander to the unmistakable figure

"Nat! oh God... where you've been?" I rub my eyes to see if it isn't an illusion

"come here you" Nat hugs me as if there's no tomorrow, her red hair is damp and collides with my cheek, oh, I missed her, she's the best

"no breakfast?" Steve says behind me and I pull away to look at him

I open the fridge and grab my already prepared lunch "this is my breakfast" I point to my overnight oatmeal  "I'll eat it on the way, bye everyone have a great day!"

They said bye, Clint and Sam with a drowsy voice, and I walk to the lift trying not to overthink my first day, I'm always overthinking and that's my problem and I always end up stressing about everything. I wait and the doors open revealing my dad and my mom, I stepped in with a quizzical look at them.

"Hey! Thought you were sleeping... and you not at your lab, not sleeping..." I push the button and spin to look at them

My mom is wearing a black pencil skirt with a white blouse, her blonde hair is perfectly brushed into a ponytail and my dad, well... he likes his sweatpants and his Black Sabbath shirt.

"There's always time to say goodbye and good luck to our daughter," my dad smirks at me and I snort

"I love you baby" my mom tightly hugs me "you'll do amazing this year"

"Thanks mom, I'm feeling it's my year" I excitedly smile

"well please be safe and I put something inside your backpack that'll help you," dad winks and I just smile

"love you dad" I walk closer to him and slightly hug him, he returns it and smacks a kiss on my cheek

"kick asses and then kick them again and then again, you know, just for fun" he casually says

"Tony!" my mom slaps his arm in disapproval but he grins at me

"c' mon dad, me kicking asses? That's definitely not me" I wink  at him and when the doors open I walk away

That's definitely me

I search for Happy and get inside the car, we talk about the embarrassing moment my dad created yesterday for me and Happy was laughing so much about the fact that Steve Rogers was in a sex-ed video. He parks just one block before 36 Ave, only not to get attention from the others, I wave goodbye and take a deep long breath. Let's go Midtown, give me the best year, please.

I walk to the front and see everyone already in deep conversation with their friends, new kids who are totally lost and others totally shy and as I thought it will happen... All eyes are on me, I mean, I don't mind, I like attention, probably my Stark gene talking, but let me be clear on something... I'll never, ever be a pretentious snooty brat.

I walk to my locker, the sound of my steps rumbles through the hall.  Let's see if I remember the code uh... 80-10-20... it opens and I start reaching to some books and post-it's I left during the summer. I put inside my new books and the girl next to me suddenly is hugged by one of her best friends, a nostalgic smile creeps on my face... it's been a while since I don't have a true best friend. I shake off those depressing thoughts and skim my schedule and notice that my first class is geometry which is my least favourite subject...

I take out my notebook and the advanced geometry book and strut to the assigned classroom that was already crowded. Exactly when I enter a little scream, that I thought it was girl,  pops beside me.

"Oh yes! thank you, God! a familiar face in this sea of peasants!"

I throw my backpack and sit in front of him "Hi Flash, a new haircut or your head got bigger?" an external little laugh snaps behind me

He ignores my comment and an attempt of a smug smile forms in his face "oh Tannie you're always sooooo funny"

"wait... you're in advanced geometry?" I say in surprise "you shouldn't be at Woodwork?" the same laugh from earlier appears but with more strength

"I actually did my homework last year and paid attention so yes, I deserve to be in this class, I mean, it's not the best class... is full of nerds, Imma cool guy" he crosses his arms and cocks his head  "and you too Tannie you're the best" he shoots me a flirtatious smile and I wince

"of course yes" I simply answer, I was about to turn to the teacher who walks in but his hand grabs my shoulder

"listen mmm Tannie, this Friday I'm doing a little party, ya know just to celebrate the beginning of a new year, you are in the VIP list with me of course" he whispers and I quickly nos just to get away from his awfully strong cologne

The class starts and I begin writing everything down when I hear a whisper saying "oh man, my notebook, I forgot it" I look up and see the one who said it, it was Ned Leeds who's in front of me, I poke his shoulder and he turns to me and opens his mouth agape in surprise.

"Ned, don't worry I'm writing everything here so when I finish you can take a picture if you want" I kindly smile at him

"Ummm thank you, Tannie!" he exclaims with a wide smile " you're so kind unlike others" referring to Flash

"it's nothing, by the way, Ned, for the final project and other Homeworks in this class... do you want to be my partner?"

"me? I mean, yes! trust me... I'm disciplined, I can get the radius of a circle so fast and the area of any kind of triangles you can imagine... at record time" he excitedly says and I snort

"haha yeah of course! we can be a great team"

He then spins around and the class goes by too slowly for me, in the end, Ned was waiting for me outside the classroom.

"here Ned" I place my notebook for him to take a picture, he pats his pockets and takes out his phone, he tries to center the camera but before he can take it someone crashes behind him.

"hey man! I was looking for you everywhere!" a bubbly voice says walking in front of us

Then I see Ned with a killing stare at his friend and I look at him as well, a young face, brown eyes, and hair and thin lips, tall but not too tall and skinny guy who instantly opens his eyes when he spots me.

"Dude, I'm trying to take a picture here, I love you but... please?"

I continue to grab the notebook while staring at... uh... I do know his name... I see that he's staring at me too.

"I'm... Peter hey!" he fakes a hoarse voice which makes me smile, I see his blue sweater and the neck of his plaid shirt, is it too early for some witty comments? yeah, probably...

I cock my head and smile at him "Yeah, I've seen you around... I'm-"

"Tannie Stark!!" he excitedly interrupts me  "I mean... Tannie... Stark" he clears his throat and the tip of his ears turn red

"it's done Tannie, thank you," Ned tells me and pats my shoulder, Peter still looking at me

"sure! do we have other classes together? what type of timetable you have?" I ask him

"I have the S-30," he says  "what about you?"

"I have the S-28" I shrug in disappointment knowing that we would only share three classes together

"I have the S-28!" Peter quickly raises his hand and I turn to him

"why you weren't at geometry then? I quirk a brow at him and he gulps

"I overslept in my comfy bed... yeah" he slowly admits

"great then, I'll see you at...? let me see..." Ned starts checking both timetables

"P.E, Geometry, and chemistry" Peter rapidly says

"that's good man!" Ned palms Peter in the back "see you, bro! Art is waiting for me!"

I stand there without saying anything and Peter as well.

"well, shall we go to the next class?" I break the silence with the offer and his eyes go-round for a moment

"yeah sure!" he awkwardly says

We start walking through the hallway... silently. Sideways I spot him stealing subtle glances at me.

"so ummm, new year huh?" I finally say

"yeah! Sophomore year is a big deal" he says scratching his right shoulder and when he touches it he makes a painful expression

"are you okay?"

"yeah! it's a bruise, I fall from my bed" he quickly says but he seemed to regret saying it

"oh okay..." we almost arrive to the classroom

"so... what did you do this summer break?" he questions me and I open and close my mouth

"not much, I tried to finish a robotics book and then I reread the first three books of Harry Potter!" my voice betrays my excitement, no one actually cares for what I do except my family (including Happy) "oh! and also hear this... I actually tried to replicate my dad's A.I. but failed, he used this kind of weird algorithm..." I stop when I notice Peter smiling at me

"Sorry..." I shrug "hey we're here!"  I change the topic and stride inside the room

The benches are in a circle instead of the traditional way, I quickly sit down away from the door and Peter grabs the seat next to me. I take out my notebook and he opens his laptop. The class starts and I almost fall asleep, Ethics is not my strength, I peek at Peter's laptop just to distract myself and see he's watching some YouTube videos of Spider-Man.

-------

"I'm so tired and it's only third period," I dramatically groan and he laughs, we're walking together to Physics

"not only is the third period... the first day of school" he looks at me smiling

"thanks for the reminder"we keep laughing until someone shouts my name

"TANNIE!! Wait!" I turn around and see the Liz Toomes rushing to get to me  "hello girl, so... just wondering if you're going to Flash's party?" she cheerfully jumps showing a slight smile

"mmmm I don't really know but maybe?"

"Great! think about it, some friends want to meet you, bye!" she sways away and I turn to Peter who can harvest a nest in his open mouth

"You're drooling Parker," I chuckle and step inside the classroom

At Physics, Warren assigned us to our partners and I got Flash, we were seated in front of Peter and other guy and Flash kept annoyingly insisting in flirting with me saying things like "What's your resonance frequency gurl?"  I ignored him and remember that my dad put something in my bag, I open it finding the circuit board I began building this summer, the replica of Jarvis and Friday, I smile knowing my dad believes in me, then I spin it and spot a post-it and read it:

"You are simply amazing T"

-Love you, the other T in this family-

I did my best in Physics and Warren noticed, in the end, she told me she's expecting good things from me. I like it when others actually notice my effort. I got out and it was recess, quickly I tried to walk through the crowd to go to the Auditorium. When I got there, at least 8 tables were decorated with logos from their respective clubs, I skimmed them and found the Robotic's Labs table.

"hi!" I stop in front Tanner Chung who was reading a book

"hi, welcome to the Robotic's Lab's Club where we build the future and it's not like Terminator" he says with a tedious voice probably because he was sat there since morning

"thanks!" I tried to hide my excitement "where can I sign up?"

"Obviously, at that paper" he points his finger and then looks up to see me and he almost falls from his chair "I mean... please at this paper" hi smiles to creepily

"sure... so I know I have to submit a previous work, when can I present it?"

"umm... yes... It's the number one rule of the club but you know... it's not necessary Tannie"

"I think it is, I have many projects and I'm sure you'll like one of them" I kindly smile and he nods

"well, what about if you bring it tomorrow? today is just the introduction day" he again smiles "oh... hey Parker" he immediately stops smiling

"oh hey Peter!"

"hi... hi... I was about to sign up for the club" he shyly adds

"really? great I just sign up too, I'll see you there then" I spin to walk out of the auditorium

"it's in the classroom next to biology!" I hear Chung shouting at me

I then stroll to the cafeteria, avoiding not that discreet glances at me. But then stop in my track. Oh God, it's so crowded. Nope. Nope. I walk outside and reach to the football field and sit in one of the benches, I open my lunch and began eating while scrolling through the news. The New York Times has a section called 'A', all about the Avengers, including some news about Stark Industries. where they go, new threats, What they eat and how they work out, New witty comments from my dad, etc. In the end, I went to Music, played the piano and did my best suppressing too many laughs at Peter who was holding a flute but failing amazingly at that. Then Art class came and I nap behind the canvas. Last period is designed for our selected club so I search for the classroom and realize that every member happens to be all boys, great.

"Welcome! I'm Tanner Chung president of this Club!... I don't have any words to describe how happy I am to see that we have our first girl!!" he starts clapping and everyone else too

I wave at the boys, enjoying the little spotlight they were giving me. My eyes search for the shy boy I talked with today... Peter is not here. Chung was right when he said it was only an introduction, we read the syllabus for the class and the projects we were aiming to achieve, in the end, I quickly exited the room and went to look for Happy, then my phone vibrates, breaking news, the trending video shows this happened just blocks from Midtown showing a man running with a purse and then the Spider-Man webbed and punch the guy and he gave the purse to the woman, the title was "The Masked Hero: Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man" I hear a horn and spot the shiny black car.

"Hello again!" I wave at him and he smiles

"Hello again Tannie, how was the first day?"

"not bad actually, new core subjects that are amazing!"

"I'm glad yeah, keep studying kid, keep studying"

"hey did you saw the new "Masked hero of New York"?"  I say creating quotation marks in the air

"what are you talking about?"

"well, it's a new guy who is trying to help people and it seems like an amateur because he is not so good at martial arts, to be honest, you should create a Twitter account to see what's happening in the world" I point out

"why? I have you"

Minutes later, Happy drops me at the tower and with a quick pace I reach to the kitchen seeing my mom cooking? Oh, that's a first... no one else at the complex again.

"hi mom" I greet her and hug her

"oh god you look bigger today," she says being nostalgic "how was your first day, tell me everything please"

I grab some grapes and spin to her "well... I liked it, my classes are better than I expected, I already have homework and tomorrow I need to bring a robotic project I previously worked on"

"mmmhm" she hums "I'm glad baby... any prospects?" she asks making a weird face

"what?" I was confused "prospects?"

"yeah! for being my son-in-law?"

"you have a boyfriend now T?" Thor enters the kitchen and grins at me

"no!" cringe at the comment

"really? that's fast, niceeee" Sam then enters munching a protein bar

"what did I miss?" Steve comes... oh no...

"T has a boyfriend," Thor says casually  and Steve winces wrinkling his nose

"wow" he looks at me with a surprised expression  "what happened with 'I don't have time for one?'"

"Mom!" I rapidly spin to her  "can you please explain to them that you were... and I was ... oh, forget it" I quit this fight and I stride to my room

Seriously all this testosterone is bad for my health

I do most of the homework, then I tiptoe to the kitchen finding it empty, I grab some food and heated it in the microwave and slowly retreated to my room. I take one of my many robots and lined them in front of me, I need to choose the best for tomorrow. I finally made up my mind and chose the one that I know will make them open their mouths agape. I lazily finish my homework, I'm still getting the hang of it because when I was homeschooled homework was not in the picture...  Then I slump in the chair and unlock my phone looking the video of Spider-Man I left open. I remember when I was meters away from him, his suit definitely was something he needed to improve as well as his martial arts... and the webbing thing is weird, it's a natural power? if yes, then how he got it? before I could continue in my deep thinking I hear a knocking in my opened door.

"Hey Peanut," my dad says entering my room

"peanut?" I quirk a brow at him, he snorts while sitting at the edge of my bed

"yeah never mind, trying to be a normal parent" he says scratching his beard

"Nah dad, is not happening" I laugh at him

"so... I wanted to know how was your day"  he lays his back in my bed

"I like it, until now Physics is my favorite subject and I'm bringing that robot for tomorrow"

He quickly lifts his head  "which one?"

"that one" I point at it

"ohhh yes, they'll love it T!"

"what about your day?" I ask

"not much... I talked with the Secretary of State of the United States of America" he dramatically emphasizes the title

"and that's not much?"

"He wants to talk with other nations about the Avengers..." I rapidly spot the change of his feature  "but nothing to worry about!" he stands up and kisses me on top of my head  "Love you kid, have a good night"  he exits my room

I then unwillingly went to wash my plate and none of the Avengers were there, I then played a little with Friday and decided not to eat dinner. My heavy eyelids making me fall asleep thinking about the party Flash is hosting... maybe it's good to be social sometimes? what could go wrong?

A/N: hope you liked it! Also available in Wattpad! https://my.w.tt/sw2CZNdCv1