#he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. he doesn’t pay attention to Psi at all period.

[psychicthepsychic-daily]

I bet Psychic and GF used to do everything together.

I bet he was the one to hang out with her on those nights when she wasn’t tired and her parents were working late. I bet he was one of the only friends she could keep as a kid because being the daughter of the Dearests isn’t always the greatest thing in the world.

I bet he was her first best friend. Her friend from the very beginning. I bet he picked her up from daycare, and later school, and was the first person the administration could contact rather than her parents, and handled a lot of the school-related stuff for them. I bet he used to spend time with her a lot, kept her from getting lonely, before she found people like Carol.

I bet he used to go with her to see whatever hot new movie he didn’t even care about. I bet he got her ice cream afterwards and they would just talk about stupid stuff while watching pigeons harass tourists. I bet he played Mario Kart with her and taught her chess. I bet he taught her psychic magic and the best way to incapacitate an attacker three times her size and how to trap souls in video games. How to make her family proud.

Then BF showed up.

Then Psychic wasn’t GF’s first contact when things got rough anymore.

Suddenly DD had MM and GF had BF and Psychic had…had…

had to make do with people like Void and the few others who frequented the library as often as Psychic did.

GF hasn’t really talked to him in months. Whenever she can’t sleep he can hear her on the phone with her boyfriend. It’s a good thing. She’s got more people in her life now. Even if they’re the least ideal people on the planet.

something something fifth wheel something something everyone’s got someone now. His job here is done.

It’s fine. He never even shared GF’s taste in movies.

[bluinary]

gag anime that you need to watch maybe

 hi hello my name is juli and i will now gently guide ur attention to some top-notch shows, please pay attanetion

(this list is for people who don’t watch much anime or who are new to it. if ur a fucken weeb youve probably seen it all. dont @ me i want to help the kids)

ONE PUNCH MAN (the obvious 1st choice lol)

Genre: Action/ Shounen

Expectation: OP protagonist with riveting backstory fights to become the strongest hero, makes many friends along the way who recognize his talents and pure heart, big bad scary villains make him stronger

Reality: OP protagonist is already the strongest hero. His backstory? After fighting a lobster-man with nipples drawn on him with a Sharpie, Saitama decides to do a workout routine every day, and somehow ends up becoming the most powerful known being in the universe. His main issue is that now, he literally can take down any villain with a single punch, and he’s very bored of it.

Best Qualities: Animation is bomb, music is dope, humor is funnie, and Best Boy is a man whose superpower is riding a bicycle. Also Saitama egg head

If you were in a coma for all of 2015, this is the main thing u missed. Moving on.

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun (Monthly Girls’ Nozaki)

Genre: Romance/ Comedy/ Slice of Life

Expectation: Smol shoujo protag girl grows closer to her oblivious crush through a fated, if awkward, incident which reveals an embarrassing secret that has to be kept at all costs. Through one another they gain more quirky friends, help each other grow, and, eventually, the male lead realizes that what he needs has been beside him all along.

Reality: The crush writes romance manga, and that is literally all the man cares about. It’s not a secret, but when he told people they didn’t believe him. Nozaki and Sakura grow closer, but only because he confuses her confession with a request to be his Beta. They gain quirky friends through one another, but there is zero character development throughout the entire fucking cast. Every episode is run by Idiot Plot. All the characters share a singular brain cell. There’s a tall butch lady turning every girl in the school gay. Please watch

Best Quali-teas: Everyone is baby, lots of gay shenanigans, and toxic masculinity does not exist, the OP is pretty nice, too

I literally heard about this damn show, like, two months ago. This shit was released circa 2015. Pleeze watch

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. / Saiki Kusuo no Psi Nan

Genre: Shounen/ Supernatural/ Fucking Everything tbh

Expectation: Slice-of-life supernatural where protag has psychic powers, albeit limited ones, and has to keep them a secret at all costs for fear of his safety. He has a few friends he loves and cherishes, and at least two girls who are in love with him that he has to choose between-- all of which are people he wants to protect from his double-life.

Reality: Kusuo is very aware that he is the protagonist of an anime, and he does not want to be. Born with pink hair? He rewrites the human genome to make colored hair normal. End of the world looming? He just keeps rewinding time so he doesn’t have to deal with it. Harem situation? He actively uses his powers to avoid all love interests at all times (see the above). The plot of each episode is him trying to stop the plot as quickly as possible without killing anyone. The main issue is that everyone around him is either dumb or just generally attractive to plot-driving circumstances, and they all, for some reason, want him to be in on their adventures.

Best Qualities: Heavy “me and the boys” energy, plenty of Idiot Plot, so funny that my 47yo mom who hates anime admitted that it’s funny, meta as fuck, occasionally sweet scenes, equally good dub and sub, Saiki is babie

The fandom for this shit is like. Nonexistent. Apparently it came out the same season as Mob Psycho 100, so that might be why. I almost didn’t watch it, but I got bored and it turned out to be a serious gem. Go watch if ur having a bad day, it will make u cry laughing

Sakamoto Desu Ga/ Haven’t You Heard? I’m Sakamoto

Genre: Slice of life/ Comedy

Expectation: God I don’t even know. I’d say a typical slice of life where the quiet kid is bullied but makes friends, there’s a love triangle as they grow up together through high school, yadda yadda, but look at this dude. I can’t imagine him being anything other than what he is-- a legend.

Reality: The entire show is just a question of how extra one man can be, and how well he can pull it off. Sakamoto is an “average” high school senior (in the sense that he has no supernatural abilities), but he’s....far more than that. He’s Sebastian Michaelis if he’d never been a demon. Everything always works out for him in the most ridiculous of ways-- he’s just that good. He makes a McDonald’s uniform look like Prada. He’s so smooth his bully ends up having a crush on him (and yes, it is a gay crush. no heteros in this show). 

Best Qualities: lots of homo content. the side characters, inspired by Sakamoto’s grace, all become better people, and you root for them. The circumstances are always average, but the presentation is fucking riveting. Watch to send ur depression into remission.

Another one no one talks about????? U all were so busy with ur broku no hero macadamias and ur Nartoes that you slept on this. Now’s the time to take back what was lost. Love yourself and binge this shit. 

Nichijou/ My Ordinary Life

Genre: Slice of Life/ Comedy

Expectation: Cute girls do cute, girly things and have fun with Their Close Good Friends (TM).

Reality: Cute girls get into very bizarre situations with extremely manic energies. Sometimes, the situations are normal, but the girls react in a bizarre, manic fashion. It will make you alarm-laugh.

Best Qualities: Adorable art style, little continuity, relatable as fuck

A nice little watch if you’re bored. I think the eps are on YouTube.

Pop Team Epic/ Poputepepiku

Genre: Only God Knows

Expectation: Probably a cutesy 4koma-type thing with 2 schoolgirls having shenanigans.

Reality: A regular acid trip with lesbian icons Popuko and Pipimi who are not schoolgirls, but gods. Like if Eric Andre and Hannibal Buress were turned into omnipotent anime icons. Watch at your own risk.

Best Qualities: Lots of unexpected parodies and references amongst a shitpost of a show. The OP is a bop. Popuko terrifies me, but also empowers me as a young woman because she will not hesitate to kill a bitch. She and Pipimi love each other a whole lot, so it is LGBTQ content, which is always a plus. 

I’m sure you’ve seen this one floating around. It will make you feel fear, and then laugh. Now, finally...

Ouran Highschool Host Club

Genre: Romance/ Comedy

Expectation: The protagonist is a girl who is mistaken for a boy and must be the servant of six rich, handsome young men, all of which are in love with her, and her secret must be kept at all costs. A reverse harem anime with plenty of fanservice.

Reality: Haruhi is a genderfluid queen who doesn’t give a fuck what others think she is. Because she broke a Conveniently-Placed Vase and is relatably poor, she has to pay off her debt by being a host herself-- which means male-presenting when flirting with her female classmates to make her dough. The six rich, handsome young men all share three brain cells, and most of those cells go to the character who has one line per episode (usually, it’s “Yeah”. I hope that VA got paid well). The only love interest-- the “leader” and most popular of the six men-- is so dead-set on their club being his Found Family, he confuses his romantic feelings for Haruhi with paternal ones. This is obvious to everyone but him. He never gets the brain cells. 

Best Qualities: Trans characters!! Lesbians!! Extreme “me and the boys” energy, except they’re all rich, so shenanigans skyrocket. Many 4th wall breaks. The most powerful Host looks like he’s 5. Any “fanservice” is never played straight. Takes the Found Family trope to a whole new level. Nice Parks & Rec-quality balance between hysterical and sweet. Everyone is in drag at some point.

I know all of us senior citizens grew up on this shit, but you younguns need to watch the classics to appreciate the newfangled stuff. I recommend watching when you’re in a cheesy rom-com mood. 

Honorable Mentions:

I can’t count these as gag anime, but they’re still ridiculously funny.

Mob Psycho 100

Scissor Seven

Kill la Kill

Cells at Work!

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure 

Ones I haven’t seen but have heard a lot about

Osomatsu-san

Himouto! Umaru-chan

Azumanga Daioh

Gin Tama

Sgt. Frog

Okay that is all just limke put this in ur feel-good tag because these shows will make you happy and donut for get to like and describe to my channel, where I post literally nothing at all ever good night.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Soulmate

Werewolf Erik Imprints on OC.

I don’t know what to do with this but I decided to post because it’s been sitting in my google drive for about a month now and I know Halloween is in two days so if you want you can read what I have written thus far. I may or may not finish with all the other things I have to complete.

Warnings: Fluff, slight humor, mentions of smut.

Theme: Halloween, supernatural, College

It was the middle of the Fall Semester at Florida A&M. The weather wasn’t too bad, around 80 degrees during the afternoon and dropping to as low as 72 in the evening. Currently, Erik was studying for his upcoming Advanced Physics midterm. The Kappa Alpha Psi house was relatively quiet and this gave him the perfect opportunity to study before his brothers came in to disturb him. Erik took his blue highlighter, highlighting a passage before recapping it. He flipped to the next page, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses to read. As much as he loved physics and engineering his mind just wasn’t there. It was the middle of October now and his focus on knowledge wasn’t as interesting as he’d hoped for. This time of the year wasn’t always the best for him ever since he was twenty years old. That’s when his life changed. 

“Thermodynamics and heat transfer.”

He read the topic while rubbing his sleepy eyes, AirMax covered feet tapping the floor to help him stay alert. 

“Fuck, I can’t read this shit right now.” 

Erik angrily closes his book, sliding it away from him, causing his calculus materials to fall over onto his desk. He leans back in his reclining desk chair, eyes to the swirling ceiling fan within his room. It wasn’t like he didn’t get the information, he knew it like the back of his hand. He just needed a distraction from her. 

People on campus called her Poison Ivy; she was a lot to handle and Erik hadn’t noticed that until yesterday when something that he didn’t expect to happen, happened.

Ivy Crow. She was a journalism major. Ivy wrote for the school news column and she was also an activist on campus. Sometimes her protests didn’t go so well and other times her podcasts could piss people off but that’s who she was. You couldn’t miss her on campus with her goth aesthetic and camcorder in hand. Ivy was now Erik’s weakness. He needed to talk to someone about this, and the only person he could think of was his friend Trevor. Erik rises from his seat, grabbing his cross-body bag, shooting Trevor a quick text before exiting his bedroom.

He instructed for Trevor to meet him at the library in the ancient literature section since no one went there anyway. Erik made it there before Trevor, looking about him with sharp eyes to be sure that no one was around. He paced, impatient and antsy. He hadn’t seen Ivy all day. His body couldn’t stand it. This overpowering desire for her made him hungry as well. If he was hungry for regular food now he was afraid of what he would be hungry for at midnight…

“Erik? What’s going on I had to skip out of class.”

Trevor was a programming major, tall, skin like midnight, one eye blue and the other brown. Girls swooned over him. 

“My bad man, I got a problem.” 

Trevor grabs Erik by the shoulder, pulling him further into the aisle of books. It was dustier back against the window.

Trevor lowers his voice, “Is it a Lycanthrope thing?”

Erik hated when Trevor refers to it as that. He kisses his teeth, letting out a sigh of frustration.

“Why can’t you just say Werewolf?!” Erik argues.

“Whatever, is this what I’m here for?”

“Yeah.” 

“Did you shift and get lost somewhere you weren’t supposed to be? Remember I saved your ass from nearly dying when you landed in a trap with silver near fucking New Orleans.”

Erik could still feel the scars from that on his back. If it wasn’t for Trevor, Erik would probably be dead. His back was scarred badly from that, deep gashes diagonally across his back.

“No, I haven’t shifted in two days.”

“Two days? Why?” 

Erik looks down at his sneakers, “Some weird shit happened to me…”

Trevor waited for Erik to speak. He figured Trevor would know more since he’d been a werewolf since birth. It was a family curse.

“So, I was on my way to my calculus class when a rally was going on. You know, that rally about making sure ‘blackface’ doesn’t happen for Halloween this year.”

Two Days Ago: 

“Catch you later, bro. You know we got that party before the hazing process.”

Erik shoulders his backpack, flashing his sexy dimples, “Y’all niggas partying before the hazing? That’s some new shit.”

His fellow Kappa brother shrugs before wrapping his arm around a random chicks shoulder, “Gotta warm them, boys, up first before the fun begins.”

He shared the Kappa hand sign with his brothers before walking away towards his class. He already missed a few for his own selfish reasons so he couldn’t afford to miss another. As Erik walked he noticed a large group of students- mostly black students crowd around a gothic chick and her protest friends, holding up signs reading “BAND BLACKFACE” Erik never really invested his time into these protests because he felt like they wouldn’t change anything but the sound of her loud voice brought his eyes to her.

And that’s what did it.

He felt as if he was gravitationally pulled towards her while glowing heat filled his veins. The class suddenly became secondary. On second thought, everything became secondary to him at that moment. He couldn’t explain it but the overpowering feeling made him want to stand there and watch her. Erik had a deep need and desire to support this girl and even protect her if someone went against what she had to say. His knees buckled, Erik stumbling a little and catching strange looks from some of the students. A few white students at Florida A&M looked frustrated with her words and that made Erik’s inner wolf growl. His eyes even turned golden without his control. He blinked, afraid that someone would notice.

“NO BLACK FACE FOR HALLOWEEN!!! It’s just as disrespectful as dressing up as an Indian!”

“She needs to shut up. She’s such a freak.”

Erik caught that and the person was on the other side of the crowd. He growls, his mind confused but his actions uncontrollable.

“She just needs some dick. She’s embarrassing us, black girls. I mean, none of these white people care about that. They wouldn’t even be dumb enough to try that.”

He felt deep disgust and rage from those words. He didn’t even know the girl and he hated the way those girls talked about her. He decided to look at her again, just focus on her to make him feel better. She talked with a sense of power, her movements confident and no care in the world that people saw her being a goth or that they thought she was a “freak of nature.” 

Without being able to explain it himself, Erik walked through the crowd and towards her direction, standing at her feet while she stood on the top steps in front of the main student services building. Erik looked at her like she was a goddess. Before he could stop himself, he climbed those stairs, taking his place next to her, clapping his hands loudly and cheering her on. 

Ivy pauses mid-speech with the megaphone pressed to her lips, eyeing Erik bizarrely. 

“Aye! Don’t tell her to calm down she preaching the truth right now!” Erik yells down at a group of snickering students who clearly still lived like they were high schoolers. They had a long way to go.

“If you are not angry, you are not paying attention!” At this point, he was yelling out anything to support Ivy. What he thought he was doing the right way he was only pissing her off. Erik didn’t know a thing about Ivy and how she hated when people disrupted her protests, especially when it was a guy who didn’t even know she existed. 

Erik snatches a sign from one of Ivy’s friends, holding it up proudly. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Ivy finally speaks, not realizing the megaphone was still pressed to her mouth.

Erik lowers the sign, flashing a charming smile at her. He looked her over with an impressive eye before putting his hand out for her to shake.

“I’m Erik.”

Ivy looks from his hand to his face, “Ivy.” 

Erik awkwardly lowers his hand, “You’re a fucking badass, Ivy.” 

She blinks with sass, “really?” 

She didn’t by that. This entire situation was strange. 

“Yeah…”Erik felt that same heat in his blood. This girl, Ivy, was driving him crazy.

“Fuck these people, you can tell me about it I’ll listen.” 

She laughs, pretty smile with lips colored blood red. The spiked choker around her neck along with the spikes in her ears made her look dangerous. Little did she know, Erik was even more dangerous.

“The less I care, the happier I am.” 

She looked down at the steps, a frappe tossed at her feet with the liquid staining her platform doc martens. Erik looked down as well, eyebrows creasing with anger.

“It’s okay, Erik. I look at people sometimes and think...really? That’s the sperm that won.” Ivy simply shakes her head, lowering her megaphone. The crowd began to scatter and Ivy turns away from Erik, talking to her friends and instructing them to pack up and meet her for podcast talk.

Erik was compelled to help as well, grabbing posters and stacking them neatly. Not only did Ivy give him a strange look but her friends did as well. 

“Are you feeling well, frat boy?” She placed the back of her hand to his forehead, Erik almost losing his control if it wasn’t for his impressive already controlled nature. He was a beast of the night, he had to keep it together. 

“Maybe we should reintroduce ourselves,” she held out her hand covered in silver rings. Luckily, Erik was in his human form. 

“I’m Ivy Crow, I run on caffeine, sarcasm, and inappropriate thoughts.”

Erik smiles, shaking her hand and enjoying the warmth. Since when did a chick make him delirious?

“I’m Erik Stevens. Kappa, science wiz, irresistibly handsome.” 

“That you are,” Ivy had eyes she could see Erik was clearly a looker.

“So you like what you see then?”

Ivy shrugs, looking away, “Don’t get your hopes up, Erik.”

“Why? I mean, a girl like you can use a guy like me in your life.” 

Ivy raises a single brow, “I see, you’re one of those niggas who think by flashing a smile and flirting with me you’ll get some pussy?”

“Nah, I mean…” 

“No need. I know what this is about,” Ivy turns away with a pained expression, grabbing her bag to leave. Erik was bothered by that rejection, following her down the steps.

“Aye? What the hell did I do?”

Ivy turns to him, a glare on her face, “My middle finger salutes you right now.”

Erik felt like his world was crashing down around him. Ivy being upset with him couldn’t happen. 

“Why are you mad right now? We were starting off cool.”

“I may not be the girl that everyone wants but at least I’m not the girl that everyone’s had.”

Erik understood then. She thought that he was implying that she needed him in her life to feel accepted because of who she was. 

“Look,” Erik lets out a calming breath, “can we start over? I’m not the type of guy you think I am. I’m not tryna get to know you for the wrong reasons, Ivy.” 

Ivy looked distant for a second until her shoulders relaxed. She folded her arms across her chest, eyeing Erik cautiously.

“I’m sorry,” Ivy pinches the bridge of her nose, “I just have a history of fuck-ups with guys.”

Ivy starts walking, motioning for Erik to follow along. He does, the pain in his chest subsiding.

“It’s just...you come out of fucking nowhere and you help me at my rally? It’s so fucking confusing.”

Erik was still confused. 

“I’m confused too believe it or not.” 

He needed to figure out what was going on, maybe it’s a werewolf thing. It is getting closer and closer to Halloween. Maybe he’s just having a strong sexual craving and he could see that in Ivy as well. It could be that Erik needed to fuck Ivy before a shift to sedate him. 

“I don’t know you well, Erik, and I’m not good with people.” 

Erik wasn’t either, he preferred to be a loner.

“I guess that makes two of us, Ivy Crow.”

“Ew, people,” Ivy cringes, causing Erik to laugh.

“Uh, is it cool if I have your number?”

Erik needed to communicate with her when she wasn’t around. In under twenty minutes he felt like he needed to hear from her. 

“Sure, frat boy, I feel like you’ve earned it.”

Ivy pulls out her cell, followed by Erik, both of them exchanging numbers. 

“Cool. I can hit you up later, right?”

Ivy simply shrugs, “that’s if my fingers aren’t preoccupied, frat boy.” 

That sexual innuendo made the burning desire within him growl. His inner wolf wanted badly to spring free. What was it about this girl that had him weak in the knees and ten times more aware? Her scent was unique, very sweet smelling like berries. It made his mouth water. 

“Listen, I'd love to chat but I have a podcast later that will more than likely stir shit up on campus.” 

Ivy backs away, Erik’s eyes scanning from her white crop top with the word “Salem” down to her tight black jeans that hugged her generous curves down to her Doc Martens. 

“I’ll make sure to tune in, Baby girl, what time?”

Ivy looks at him strangely, “1:00”

Erik gives her a farewell smile, never turning to leave as he watched her disappear. He stood there until her smell was gone, a heavyweight lifted from him only to be filled with emptiness. He missed her a lot for some reason. 

That night in bed, Erik was in a cold sweat, growling like his other half and tossing. What was happening to him? He needed answers and quick. The next couple of days were going to be challenging.

Present:

“You’ve imprinted on Ivy Crow.”

Trevor didn’t hold back information. He laid it out for Erik.

“Imprinted? I thought that shit only happened in Twilight.” 

Trevor gave Erik an annoyed look, “You’ve been a Werewolf for about seven years and you don’t know what imprinting is?”

Erik shrugs, “that’s what I have you for Trevor. You’re my Werewolf brother and my teacher.” 

“Erik,” Trevor gave Erik a pointed look, “This is some serious shit, bro. You have to know everything about your Lycanthrope self or the enemies out there will hold that against you. You don’t want the enemies to know more about you than you, correct?”

Trevor did have a point, and Erik knew that. He was still trying to get over the fact that he was turned into a Lycan/ Werewolf when he was twenty years of age. 

“Aight, I’ll take it more seriously. All that other shit like silver, Mercury, angel blades to the heart…”

Erik lets out a deep sigh, “I already know about that shit.”

“Well, do you know about our origin? Why New Orleans is generally not safe for our kind? How there are vampire and witch covens there and we all equally hate each other? How imprinting can be a good and bad thing?”

Erik didn’t know everything, and it pissed him off that Trevor rubbed that shit in his face.

“You want your ass beat now or later?”

Trevor laughs, “nigga, you keep forgetting I’m stronger than you?” 

Erik bumps shoulder with him as he walks past, finally done with this conversation.

“We can meet up later tonight to discuss this imprinting situation. For the time being, try not to hound the girl, Erik. You don’t want to scare her away when you’re bound to her.”

That word, bound, wasn’t something he was prepared for. He was already bound to being a werewolf for the rest of his life. What if Ivy despises him to the point where she doesn’t want anything to do with him? What if she falls in love with someone else? All of those things scared him. 

Ivy’s POV: 

“What are you going to be for Halloween this year, Ivy?”

Ivy slips into a pair of dark turquoise high waist jeans, turning sideways to admire her outfit as a whole. She had on a black corset top with a layered silver necklace around her neck with multiple crosses on it. Her head was covered in a wig that would remind you of Uma Thurman’s hair in Pulp fiction, lips painted a glittery black and eyes Smokey. 

“Probably something DIY, maybe a corpse bride.”

Her friend, Treasure; the complete opposite of her, sat on her bed, painting her toes white. She dressed like Cher from Clueless, long curly hair in two space buns. She was ginger with freckles on her face. 

“I’m gonna be a Powerpuff Girl.” 

Ivy chuckles, “Which one?”

“Bubbles.”

“I knew it.”

Ivy grabs her coffin-shaped crossbody bag along with her Creative Writing books before her phone goes off for the fifth time. She knew exactly who it was, he was getting on her last nerve.

Erik: Why aren’t you answering my texts, beautiful?

She locks her phone, putting it away.

“Ready?” 

Treasure gives her a strange look. 

“What’s up with you?” 

Ivy shakes her head, “Just trying to prepare myself for yet another day of biting my tongue whenever Miss Petty Ass Bitch decides to piss me off. It’s not my fault I know more about your own class than you do. They just hire anyone these days.”

“You know she just does that Ivy because of your reputation around here,” Treasure reminds her, “Everyone is intimidated. Remember, they call you Poison Ivy.”

Ivy’s face lit up, a pretty smile on her glittery black lips.

“You know what, I just might have my Halloween costume in mind.” 

Erik’s POV

He waited outside of Creative Writing.

How did he find out about her class? He practically threatened one of her guy friends and supposedly her fellow band member to give him the information. The second he did that, Erik did a late enrollment for the course. Luckily, it could look good for his master's degree. Looking from one end of the hall to the other, his nostrils flared, her smell growing closer and closer. He closed his eyes, the veins in his neck protruding from holding on control. His backpack went down to cover his crotch, dick hard for the first time in two days. The more she drew closer the more his heartbeat increased and his skin reddened from heat. 

“Erik?” Ivy spoke with agitation.

His eyes snapped open from her sing-song voice, “Wassup, Baby girl?”

“It’s Ivy.” 

“Well, I like calling you Baby girl,” he teases, earning a strange look from her.

“Stop calling me that or I will pour all of this hot ass coffee down your pants.” 

He snapped his mouth shut, choosing to simply admire her. She tried looking at her phone but the scorching hot gaze he gave her made her look at him with annoyance.

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Erik smirks at her, walking over to be face to face with his gothic princess.

“What you wanna know?” He shoulders his bag, giving her his sexiest stare but it clearly didn’t change anything.

“Why do you insist on texting me ten times a fucking day?”

“Why do you insist on ignoring me? Forreal, you got a whole ass attitude, Miss Ivy. A nigga tryna get to know you and you ignoring me? Ima tell you this now, I don’t like being ignored.”

“I do a thing called what I want.” She reminded him. 

“You don’t like a nigga to be all sweet with you, huh?” 

Ivy picks at her nails, “I’m not built for a soft ass needy man, I talk back and I do not listen.” 

Erik’s dark eyes burned into hers. She didn’t fight it, looking at him with an equal amount of strength.

“I don’t like your type. You walk around here like you own the place and then you think you can have any girl you want? I’m not just any girl.” 

Ivy picks a piece of imaginary cotton from Erik’s letterman jacket.

“You are a mean girl,” he smiles down at her, “Don't get your hopes up though I’m not going anywhere. I like em fiery, you like em dominant. That’s cool, I’m that.” 

“I’m not mean, just brutally honest. It’s not my fault truth hurts. Want a bandaid?”

“As long as it’s from you I’ll take all that shit, Baby girl.” 

Ivy regrets giving him her number. She didn’t actually think he would try anything with her since she definitely wasn’t going to open her legs for him. 

“Ivy? Did you hear me?” 

She wasn’t paying him any mind, the class was filling up and she needed to take her seat.

“There is no need to repeat yourself, I ignored you just fine the first time.” 

He stood rooted to the spot, watching her disappear into that classroom. Her words literally slapped him. This is what he feared honestly. Erik couldn’t wait to meet up with Trevor so he could figure out how to work around this imprinting thing. Ivy was a lot to handle. Erik wasn’t going to back down by any means but damn, he didn’t expect a real challenge. 

Erik finally walks into the class, finding a seat just behind Ivy a row above hers. She had all her things neatly stacked in front of her, eyes focused ahead. Erik whispered “excuse me” to a girl on his right as he took his seat. He decided to just bring his Macbook instead of things to write with. This was an easy course for him, he’d already taken a similar one during his undergraduate education.

“Good morning, Everyone,” a woman who looked to be in her late thirties spoke, fuchsia and purple polka-dotted blouse with a black pencil skirt. Her thin blonde hair was pulled into a tight French roll, old stocking with tears in them and a pair of heels that looked like something his grandmother would wear. God rest her soul.

“Can I help you, sir?” She yells to the back row. Erik knew she was referring to him.

“I’m a late enrollee.” His husky voice caught the eyes of nearly all the women in that room except for Ivy who chewed on the end of her pen.

“Name?” She asked with an authoritative tone.

“Erik Stevens.” 

“I’m Professor Pettee, Why creative writing so late in the semester?”

Erik strokes his goatee, “Miss Ivy here gave me some inspiration since she’s a Journalism major and all.”

He could hear her clicking and unclicking her pen angrily. 

“Ivy Crow?” She looked at Ivy with a sarcastic smirk, “she’s your inspiration? Well,” Miss Pettee turns on her heel,  “She’s inspirational alright.” 

Tiny snickers scattered the class.

“What is this fucking high school?!” Erik blurts out with rage. Ivy turns to him then with wide eyes. 

“Excuse me?” Miss Pettee hadn’t expected that. 

“I’m referring to the snickering. What y’all fifth graders or some shit?” 

The entire lecture hall was silent, all eyes on Erik.

“What a ruckus,” Miss Pettee laughs nervously, “Are you finished, Mr. Stevens? I do have a class to teach.”

Erik sat back in his chair, motioning for her to continue. As soon as Miss Pettee’s back turned, Erik noticed Ivy staring up at him with a smoldering rage. The smile on his face turned into a blank expression. He was really getting under her skin. 

“Fuck You.” She mouthed to him before turning back in her seat to pay attention. This was going to be interesting. 

[simkjrs]

fic: see you in the dark

chapter ii: remember to be conPSIentious of your powers!

saiki kusuo no psi nan x worm | saiki kusuo & taylor hebert | 3k

------

It turns out that Hebert can look after herself, and bugs are a terrifying weapon. I stopped watching after she started going for the privates. It seems that for all the mythos that surrounds him, Lung is still weak in all the normal places.

It sure takes some guts to aim for the crotch of the most notorious gang member in the city, Hebert. I underestimated you.

The next school day, Hebert shows up barely any worse for wear. Good for her. There she goes back to her locker with her head down. There goes one of the bullies trying to trip her. You know she took down a notorious gang leader this weekend? Just what do you think you’re going to achieve? She could crush you in an instant.

<Endure it, Taylor. Don’t retaliate. You’re better than them.>

... Well, it’s not as funny when I have to hear her thinking like that all day.

She’s so responsible about using her powers it’s honestly depressing. She refuses to use her abilities against any of her bullies because it would be unfair, and it’s wrong to use your powers like that, or something. It’s really not, Hebert. I use my powers for personal gain all the time. You should do something about the “Trio” already so I can stop tying their shoelaces together when they try to approach.

Hebert closes her locker door and raises her head as I’m walking. We make eye contact. Hey. Are you okay? That’s an impressively dead look on your face. Your eyes are almost as dull as mine. — Nevermind, they’ve brightened the tiniest bit. Why.

“Good morning, Saiki.”

Good morning. I nod cordially at her. Social interaction of the day achieved, I continue walking to the next classroom.

— Tch, those annoyances are approaching again.

Not that it’s my business, since Hebert seems determined to handle the situation by herself, but the universe ought to give her a break. She just took down a notorious gang leader. Give her some breathing room. I’ll just backtrack a few steps and tap Hebert on the shoulder.

Hebert blinks at me. “What is it?”

I jerk a thumb over my shoulder, turn, and walk away down the hall. After a moment of hesitation she follows me down the corridor, just in time to avoid Barnes and her cronies spotting us by the lockers.

<That was good timing. If I’d stayed there, Emma would have come to bother me again. — Wait, did Saiki know she was coming? Is that why he called me here?>

Stop being perceptive. I forgot you could keep an eye out on everything with your bugs. Tch, it goes to show I shouldn’t poke my nose in where I’m not needed. Now I have to come up with an excuse.

I turn around to face Hebert.

<His expression is as serious as ever. I can never tell what he’s thinking.> Good, let’s keep it that way. <It seems like he had something to talk about, after all. Guess it was just lucky timing.>

I reach into my pocket and pull out a piece of paper, etching onto it with thoughtography as I do. Hebert unfolds it, eyes flicking across the page.

“You want to study together this weekend?”

<Is he serious?> You don’t have to sound so disbelieving. Just say no if you don’t want to. That would be more convenient for me, too, since this is just a random excuse. <Do we even share any classes besides Parahuman Studies? What’s he getting out of this?> Absolutely nothing, so it’s okay to turn me down. <He doesn’t feel sorry for me, does he?> Anyone normal would feel sorry for you if they saw what a daily ordeal your school life is. Don’t take it so personally. — Actually, feel free to. Hurry up and say no already. <I don’t need his pity. If he feels sorry for me, then he should help me do something about the Trio.> See? There you go.

<But I shouldn’t burn any bridges unnecessarily. He’s the only one to reach out to me after Emma started her bullying campaign.> Wait, no. Stop being reasonable. Go back to the prideful paranoia. You’re not doing me any favors, here. <Besides, it’s possible he just wants a friend, too.> Absolutely not, who do you think I am?

“Okay, that’s fine.” <If he wants to hang out, I guess it couldn’t hurt.> “Where do you want to meet?”

What did I just say.

<Why does he have such a pinched look on his face. Was this a pity thing or a prank after all?>

Good grief.

I indicate with pen on paper that I would like to meet at the public library on Saturday. She asks if 2pm is fine, and if it’s okay for her to leave early, because she has business to take care of. By which she means parahuman business. I really don’t want to hear what bad ideas she’s going to get up to, so let’s just move the conversation along for now.

“Okay,” says Hebert. “What’s your phone number? I’ll call you if anything comes up.” <Like if I have to go out in costume earlier than anticipated.>

Ugh. This is why you shouldn’t have said yes, Hebert. I write on the paper.

“You don’t have a phone?” <Huh. Didn’t think there was anyone in the same boat as me.> “That’s fine. A landline is okay too.”

Damn it.

“You don’t have one of those either?” <What kind of place is he living in…?>

Please don’t start questioning my living conditions. I’ll just write something down to alleviate her concerns.

“Oh, an apartment without a landline?” <And no cellphone on top of that. It must be hard.> No, it’s perfectly fine. I don’t want anyone contacting me. “Then I’ll email you if anything comes up. Is that fine?”

I nod.

“Alright. I have to get to class now, but thanks, Saiki. I’ll see you in Parahuman Studies.”

<It’s strange that he doesn’t have any kind of phone at all, though. Is everything okay financially? His clothes seem fine, but you never know…>

What a pain. Looks like I’ll have to take additional steps to integrate into this world, so I won’t draw suspicion so easily. Acquiring fake IDs was already annoying enough, and now this too?

You may be wondering why I procured myself some ID papers. It’s because I needed it to register for school. But why would an esper like myself bother enrolling in school again, when no one in this universe had to know I existed?

It’s true, I could have had complete freedom of time if I hadn’t committed to school. But you can only read books alone in your house for so long before you start to get bored. It was nice to have a few weeks by myself, but it felt weird not having a school routine.

Going to school keeps me somewhat occupied and reminds me what it’s like to have people around. To be clear, I didn’t register for school because I wanted company. I’m already so different from normal human beings that spending time with humans doesn’t mean anything. It’s like asking if you’d prefer spending time with a monkey in the next room over or not. I’m just here because I’m bored and I like to stick to my habits.

School comes with its own share of annoyances, although they’re much more serious than the gag series I’ve spent most of my life living. It’s none of my business, but if things keep being this bothersome, I might have to do something about it soon.

Hopefully Kuusuke will hurry up and find me soon so I can stop getting dragged into the circumstances of this world.

——

Hebert isn’t in Parahuman Studies. It only takes a quick skim of the minds near me to find out why.

“Oh, Saiki, it looks like Hebert ditched you today. Too bad. She’s such a horrible partner to work with, isn’t she?” Your words wouldn’t be the least bit convincing even if I didn’t know you were the one who made her upset enough to leave campus, Barnes. “If you want, you can sit with us to work.”

She smiles at me in what she thinks is a charming manner. I can’t tell, since right now she just looks to me like a diagram of the human muscular structure you’d find in a medical book. <Take the hint. Taylor isn’t worth your time.> What does that make you. Chopped liver? <I wouldn’t pay attention to him if not for the fact that he’s Taylor’s assigned partner. If I can lure him away from her, she’ll be devastated. We could even keep him in the group afterwards. I mean, once you look past those weird green glasses, even though he seems plain at first glance, he’s got a nice face.> No thanks. <It’d be better if he didn’t have such a blank expression all the time, though.>

Get a full load of my blank expression, then.

<This silence is dragging on too long. Is he.... judging me?>

Took you long enough to notice.

“It’s rude not to respond,” Barnes says.

I stare dispassionately at Barnes until she shifts uncomfortably. <Maybe Sophia was right.> “What, can you not speak or something?”

Sure, let’s go with that setting. I give her a disdainful look. Obviously.

<Why are you looking at me like that?! I’m one of the most popular, pretty girls in the school!> Is that so? I couldn’t tell from how rotten your inner self is. “Sorry, I didn’t realize,” Barnes says faux-apologetically. “How was I supposed to know if you didn’t even make an effort to tell me, though? Can’t you write, at least?”

How annoying.

“Did you just click your tongue at me?”

I’m hurt you would ever accuse me of such a thing. I write in my notebook and slide it across the desk towards her.

“You’re not interested in working with anyone? But you’re working with Hebert.”

Flat stare.

“--Oh, she was assigned to you. Right.”

<Hey, doesn’t that mean this guy is a total loner-type? Come to think of it, he didn’t do anything the other day when we were confronting Taylor, either.> Confronting? Is that what you call it? <All he did was look annoyed when we started talking to him. Ahaha, what a piece of work. He doesn’t care about Taylor at all.> I don’t want to hear that from you. <I don’t even have to do anything and he’ll leave her alone, too. But still…>

“My friends and I can still help you finish your work more quickly, though. Then you’ll have more time to yourself in class.”

<...It’ll be more satisfying if I’m the one behind it.>

How unpleasant. I emphatically tap the word “anyone” written on the page.

“Come on, you can’t go through school without making friends with anyone.” Try me. “It’s better to choose your friends early. You don’t want to get caught up by the wrong crowd.” Somehow, I don’t think your crowd is the right one, either.

Thanks for your concern, I write, but I can take care of myself.

Barnes purses her lips. “Well, if you’re sure,” she says in a tone of voice that clearly says she doesn’t believe me. “But the invitation is open if you ever change your mind, ‘kay?”

She smiles at me before making her way back to her group of friends.

<Let’s see if we can’t arrange for him to learn what this school is like…>

What are you, a delinquent gang leader? I never thought I’d miss the days of PK Academy, but it would be so much less troublesome if the worst personality anyone here had was being a tad too obsessed with romance.

Not that it matters. Whatever Barnes tries, it’s not like there’s anything in this world that could touch me.

——

Because Barnes and her coterie were laughing about it in their heads all period, it’s easy to find the dumpster in the back of the school where they tossed Hebert’s backpack.

It stinks out here, and Hebert’s textbooks are all ripped up. Her art project is smashed to pieces, too. Barnes sure didn’t hold back.

The backpack and textbooks are easy enough to restore to their original state. The art project is a different matter. Checking it with my psychometry, it seems Hebert didn’t finish it until late last night. My restoration ability only reverts an object to its state from twenty four hours before; if I turn back the clock on the art project right now, it’ll be restored to a state from before she completed it. I’ll have to wait to restore it until later tonight.

So here I am, lying on my bed with Hebert’s stuff tossed by all my books. What to do. I could drop it off outside her house, but if I do it anonymously it’ll raise all kinds of questions and if I do it in person I’ll have to explain how I knew where she lives. I could just hand it off to her at school, but…

I have a sudden, horrible vision of Hebert thinking that we’re friends, and immediately reject that path. Absolutely not.

I’ll just put her backpack in her locker so she’ll find it before class. That’ll also raise all kinds of questions, but way less than finding it outside her house.

Now, as for the other problem…

Barnes and her friends are popular, and they’ve got plenty of people who are willing to do them a favor. Annoyingly enough, Barnes’ network has talked about me enough in front of the right people that in a couple days, the ABB members at Winslow will start trying to recruit me. What a pain. And I’ve put in so much effort to fly below their radar, too.

It’d be easy to rebuff any attempt to recruit me, but that would just attract attention. Worse, if I show my skill, that might be even more motivation for them to keep trying. I’ll have to think of a way to avert the recruitment without making myself stand out.

That’s a problem for later, though. Right now, I’m more irritated that Barnes has caused this much of a problem for me, just because she wants to get at Hebert. Since recruitment usually starts off with friendly overtures, all she has to do is swoop in and pretend I’m solidly part of her friend group already to ward off any recruitment attempts, and then they’ll usually leave well enough alone. And then I’ll be so grateful for her help saving me from the big, bad ABB that I’ll actually consider her a friend… Not.

If she’d left me alone, I might not have done anything, but I won’t hold back now that she’s getting me involved.

Time to take her down.

——

The reason Barnes can get away with what she does is because of Shadow Stalker’s influence with the school administration. That means to dismantle the power structure, I have to knock Hess down.

First, let’s use thoughtography to create photos of the worst moments of bullying I’ve seen, with my clairvoyance or otherwise. Here’s one of Hess stomping on Hebert’s backpack. One of her pouring juice on Hebert with Barnes. One of… you know what, describing this is just depressing. The readers don't want to slog through a litany of events that'll make them lose faith in humanity. Just trust that I’ve captured some truly unpleasant moments.

Second, I’ll use my clairvoyance to look around in the school office for the budget records, and copy them down with thoughtography, too. Hm, quite a difference between what they’re actually doing and what they’ve reported. I’m sure the PRT will be delighted to learn this.

Third, I’ll make a map of Hess’ stashes of definitely not approved crossbow ammo, discovered when I used clairvoyance on her the other day. That won’t be enough evidence by itself, but if I attach a list of victims, locations, and times, hopefully the PRT will be competent enough to put the pieces together. It’s not an exhaustive list, just what I learned from using psychometry on the bolts in her stash, but it should be enough.

Fourth, a list of things they should check: Hebert’s stint in the hospital, the communications between Hess’ handler and the school administration, Hess’ phone, and the unpleasant emails that Hebert gets every now and then.

And a note on top: Your Ward is misbehaving. Clean up your mess.

Yep. That is a nice, succinct message that will get my point across with absolutely no problems.

As if.

This is one of the most annoying aspects of this world: the sheer paranoia around parahumans. Back in my original universe, people ignore strange happenings more easily, because they don’t believe in powers. Here, though? Powers are real and a fact of life. If I tried to use my hypnosis or mind control powers here, one of those “Thinker” parahumans would probably notice right away. No matter how I send this packet of information to the PRT, they’ll definitely suspect parahuman involvement, since quite a lot of this information should have been secure. They’ll be paranoid for days. They might even take my note as a threat.

Oh well, it’s not my problem. As long as I deliver it cleverly, they won’t be able to trace anything back to me, and I don’t plan on getting involved with them again after this either. If they spend a few months paranoid about a possible new threat, that has nothing to do with me.

So how to make sure that the PRT properly pays attention to this information when I deliver it? If I send it through the official channels, who knows how long it will take, and if I’m not lucky it’ll get lost or Hess’ handler will manage to bury it before it goes anywhere. On the other hand, I’d rather not deliver it directly to the heroes, either.

Let’s just do it like this then.

Altogether, the worth of these papers is about four dollars. So is this keychain I picked up from the side of the street. I’ll just turn invisible and go to the Boardwalk and toss this keychain over to the PRT headquarters floating in the bay, and then I can use my apport ability to exchange the keychain for the papers so that the papers arrive properly at their front doorstep. It’ll arrive with enough dramatic flair to make sure it doesn’t get written off, and I don’t have to interact with anyone. Perfect.

I toss the keychain across the water, but when I check with my clairvoyance, I see the keychain sinking down in the water instead of safely landed on the doorstep of the PRT like I intended. I didn’t throw with enough force? Damn, I can’t use my telekinesis to retrieve the keychain either, because I can’t use any powers besides telepathy while I’m invisible. I’ll have to look for something nearby.

There, a cheap ring being sold at a street stall. My apologies to the vendor, I’m taking this. Back to the beach. This time, I’ll throw with a little more force—

CRACK. BOOM.

I stare at the fading afterimage of a now-broken forcefield.

Shit.

Nothing for it now. I dash back home as fast as I can, and as soon as my invisibility wears off I exchange the packet of papers with the ring.

The ring appears in my hand, no problem. There, delivery successful. Err. Looking with my clairvoyance, it seems that the papers are half-embedded in the wall of the headquarters where the ring had previously buried itself inches deep. My bad. The forcefield breaking is my fault, so I’ll take responsibility. I’ll just fix it with my restoration ability…

Ah, wait, but restoring an object also restores everything it touches. If I restore the headquarters now, my delivery will go back to being blank pieces of paper, and it’ll all have been for nothing. Damn it, I should’ve fixed the forcefield before apporting my delivery over… although that would have required me to wait for my invisibility to wear off at the Boardwalk. Maybe I can exchange the papers and the ring quickly, restore everything, and then exchange them back? — No good, people are coming to investigate the papers already. If I apport right in front of them it might just make them panic more.

Good grief. I’ve made quite a mess for myself.

I’ll just have to make sure to fix the forcefield tomorrow… I’m sure it’s fine… They can live without their forcefield for twenty-four hours…

Oh, would you look at that, it’s just about time to restore Hebert’s art project. I’ll just go do that and put everything back in her locker.

Well, as long as that works out, hopefully today won’t be a lost cause.

[superspoonie24]

Broken Steel

Kara is having panic attacks and is determined to find out who’s causing them. Almost 3k. Kara really just needs a hug and therapy. 💛

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130801

CLICK

"Oh no," Kara whispered as the door locked behind her. "It's okay. You'll be okay," she mumbled to herself.

Kara took a deep breath and focused on the reason she went into the supply closet in the first place. She fumbled around for the ream of printer paper until she finally found it hiding behind the toner.

"Gotcha! Now to get out of here."

Kara turned around to open the door, but the handle wouldn't budge.

"Shoot."

Kara jiggled it and pulled on it but nothing worked. She'd blown her powers out, so she couldn't 'accidentally' break the door. She just had to sit and wait for someone to find her.

"Okay Kara. You can do this. Just breathe. Focus on what Harley taught you."

Kara took a deep, diaphragmatic breath in, held it for seven counts, and let it out for eight. She repeated it over and over, but the panic still rose within her.

At somepoint she ended up on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. The walls were closing in, and it felt like she would be stuck there forever.

"No Kara. You're not in the pod. It'll be okay. Just breathe." Kara squeezed her head tight, begging her mind to focus on something, anything else.

"Come on Kara. You should be over this. You're the Girl of Steel, and you can't handle a closet?" Kara chastised. She dug her finger nails into her temporarily human skin.

Tears were threatening to fall when the door opened behind her.

"Kara!" Winn exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

He reached out his hand and helped her up. Kara brushed off her skirt and wiped her eyes.

"Huh? Oh I'm fine," Kara lied. "Just had a little trouble with the door. Someone she really fix that."

Kara walked off without saying another word. She didn't go back for the paper.

***

The elevator ride that night after work was the longest of Kara's life. She fiddled with the end of her shirt and rubbed her hands together. If she had her powers she would've just flown home, but she couldn't. And after having to walk everywhere all day, Kara was too exhausted to take 15 flights of stairs. Although right now, she was beginning to rethink it.

When the elevator dinged and the doors finally opened, Kara tore out of there. She ran into the empty street and enjoyed the open air. Despite how exhausted she was, Kara walked all the way home.

***

'What's going on? Why can't I move?' Kara thought to herself as she opened her eyes to total darkness. She felt like she was floating; she felt sick to her stomach.

'Not this again,' she grumbled. 'Alright. Breathe. You can do this.'

Kara maintained steady breathing as she drifted aimlessly through space. A bright light appeared in the corner of her eye. She turned her head. Suddenly she could see every detail in high definition.

'I'm- I'm in the pod? As an adult. Wait what was that flash? Where am I? Why can't I move!'

Kara's breath picked up and she whipped her head around, only adding to her nausea. She located a familiar white moon and a bright yellow sun.

'NOOOO!' Kara screamed as she watched her planet explode for a second time. Tears streamed down her face as she mourned the loss of her new home: Earth.

***

Kara woke up hyperventilating, her body covered in sweat. She looked around and realized she was in her room, on Earth.

'It was just a dream. Well, a nightmare,' Kara thought to herself.

She flung what's left of the covers off the bed and sat up. She stretched and accidentally got a whiff of her fresh sweat.

'Guess I'm gonna shower now.'

Kara got up and headed to the bathroom. She stopped in the doorway, staring at the small room.

'It's okay. You can do this. You're not in the pod. You're not in the closet. You can leave whenever you want.'

Kara took a deep breath and stepped into the bathroom. She left the door open.

***

Kara spent the whole day ready to fly through a wall at a moments notice. She nearly punched Winn when he came up and tapped her on the shoulder.

'Get it together Kara,' she chastised herself. 'You aren't under attack. Relax dammit!'

Kara took a few deep breaths and broke the mouse in her hand.

'Dang it.'

Kara looked around the office to see if she could get some intern to get a new mouse for her; it was empty.

'Okay. Guess this is a job for Supergirl.'

Kara tried to laugh at her bad joke, but it didn't help. She made her way to the supply closet and stood at its door.

'It's just a closet Kara. Prop the door open. Find the mouse. Get out. You've done it a hundred times. You can do it again.'

Kara just stood staring at the open door. She focused only on her breathing, blocking out all other sounds.

"Whatcha staring at?" Nia asked.

Kara jumped a foot in the air and nearly fell over.

"Nia!" Kara shouted. "Don't. Scare me like that."

Kara struggled to regain her breath.

"Sorry?"

Nia looked at Kara and asked "are you okay?" She then whispered "I thought you had super hearing."

"I do!" Kara replied, louder than necessary. "I was just- focused on something else."

"Alright..." Nia looked at her again but brushed it off. "So what were you staring at?"

"Oh. Right. I was.... Looking for a mouse! For my computer. Oh I just remembered I have to do something," Kara lied. "Would you do me a favor and get me one?"

Nia looked at Kara's trembling hands, but didn't push it.

"Sure. Go do your thing and I'll have the mouse waiting on your desk."

"Thank you Nia! You're the best."

Kara gave Nia a tight hug before dashing off.

'Time to go check on an old friend.'

***

Kara landed outside the DEO and marched her way to her 'old friend'.

"How are you doing it?" Kara asked as she slammed on the wall.

"Well isn't it my luck. The birdy has decided to visit the cat."

"Answer me!" Kara demanded. The glass started to crack.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Psi shouted.

"How did you get in my head? How come I feel this fear in every bone in my body? What did you do to me!"

"Nothing silly bird." Psi backed away from the glass and sat on the bench. "I haven't been able to do anything since you put this stupid lock on me. Not to mention the 24/7 surveillance keeping me from escaping."

Kara's eye twitched and she clenched her fist.

"It sounds to me like the birdy has some problems she can't solve. Sad how easy it is to break the Girl of Steel."

Kara punched the glass; it almost broke. "You better not be behind this," she threatened. "And you better pray I find the person behind this!" Kara shouted as she walked out the room, her hand twitching.

'Dammit,' Kara muttered as she rubbed her sore hand. 'I really thought she was behind this. shirt! It's game night.'

Kara flew out the window to get her apartment ready for her friends.

***

"Damn Kara. I can't believe you won again!" Lena exclaimed, gently punching her shoulder.

"Don't feel bad. No one has dethroned this queen in quite some time," Kara boasted, making broad royal gestures.

"I remember when you first came to Earth and didn't know what uno was. I miss that."

Kara shot Alex a glare and Alex stuck her tongue out.

"Has anyone thought about Kara using her x-ray vision?" Lena piped in.

The group collectively turned and stared at her. Kara's eyes flashed red.

"I'm just saying, she doesn't have her glasses on. They're leadlined, right?"

"Yes I do believe that Lena is correct." Brainy turned and stared at Kara.

"Fine." Kara swung around and put her glasses on. "You want to test it? Let's go. Rematch. Glasses, on."

The room was dead silent, everyone waiting for Lena's response.

"Deal. Get ready to lose, Kara Zor-el."

"It's on, Lena Luthor."

The rest of the room joined in the next game, but no one was surprised it was down to Lena and Kara.

"Uno," Lena flirted. She held up her card for everyone to see.

Kara didn't respond. She placed a plus 4, which made the room gasp. Lena grumbled as she drew four more cards.

"Red."

Lena grumbled again.

Kara slowly got through her hand until only 2 cards remained. Lena placed down a card and smirked.

"Uno!" Kara called out, beating Lena to it. Lena drew four cards.

"Do you want to keep going? Or will you just admit defeat and bow down to your Queen." Kara made another regal gesture with her hands, being very careful to keep her cards hidden.

"Never," Lena snarled.

Kara placed down a card.

"Uno." She mocked Lena's move from merely a few minutes ago. Kara prayed no one could see her sweating.

"fork," Lena mumbled, placing down a red 5.

Kara smirked. She placed down a blue 5.

"I win," Kara boasted. "Still think I cheated?" Kara asked as she played with the glasses sitting on her face.

"No," Lena mumbled. She was in full pout.

"Face it Lena," Kara started as she walked over to where Lena sat. "No one can dethrone the queen."

Lena looked up into Kara's eyes and Kara felt heat rise to her face. Her hands started to sweat, for a different reason than before. Kara knew she was blushing.

"Alright!" Alex shouted. "Let's play a different game."

Kara looked to Alex and gave her a silent thanks.

Kara scurried away from Lena and Winn pulled out a different game. Kara wasn't paying attention to his choice; she was stuck in her thoughts.

'Why did Lena think I was cheating? Does she not trust me? Does everyone else think that? And why was I blushing?'

"Are you okay with what Winn chose, Kara?" Nia asked.

"Huh? Yea. That's fine."

Kara glanced around as everyone started picking their pieces.

'Of course he'd choose monopoly. He insists on playing it everytime. Even though he always gets out first.'

Kara rubbed her arm slowly as the game started. She rolled the dice and went through the motions, using her standard tactic of buy everything she lands on. She took some deep breaths, but nothing seemed to help her calm down.

"Hey," Kara interjected. "Is anyone else hot?"

She looked around at the sea of shaking heads.

'Oh. So it's just me. Get it together idiot. It's just game night. There's nothing to be on edge about.'

Kara continued playing. She nearly broke the table when she landed in jail for the third time in a row.

"Oh come on!" Kara shouted as she slammed her piece on the corner spot.

"Kara, are you okay?" Lena asked.

"I'm fine. Go enjoy boardwalk and probably win this stupid game."

"Kara. What's wrong?" Kelly asked, taking note of the unusual behavior.

"I said I'm fine!" Kara yelled. She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tight.

The game continued.

'Dammit Kara. Get it together. They're just worried about you. Why are you upset? Why are you attacking your friends? They just want to help.'

"I'm gonna go get a drink. I'll be right back." Kara stood up and left the table, not waiting for a response.

"Can you grab me a coke!" James shouted.

"Uh, sure!" Kara replied from inside the fridge.

'This is nice. I could just stay here for a while.' Kara rummaged through the fridge for James's coke. She found one burried deep in the back and pulled it out. She walked back to the table.

"Here ya go," Kara said as she handed James the coke.

"Thanks." He grabbed it and set it on the table. "Weren't you going to get something?" James asked.

"Huh?" Kara mumbled as she sat down. "Oh... I uh, changed my mind?"

No one questioned it.

"Your turn." Nia handed Kara the dice.

"Finally!" Kara shouted. She rolled doubles.

The game continued without a hitch, until Kara landed on boardwalk.

"Oh come on!" Kara exclaimed. "It can't possibly be that much!"

"3 houses Kara. Fork it over." Lena held out her hand for the money.

"Alright alright. Just give me a second."

Kara felt everyone's eyes fixed on her as she rummaged about for her money. The room was silent. Everyone was waiting on her.

'Come on Kara. Hurry up. Just admit you don't have enough and forfeit.'

Kara's hands started to shake.

'No, it'll be fine. I just, need a minute to think.'

'They're all waiting on you. Your slowing down game night. Just end it. They don't want to be with you anyways.'

'That's, that's not true.'

Kara's breathing sped up.

'Yes it is. You know it is. They're just pitying you. The poor little alien with nowhere else to go. They don't want to be with you. They don't like you. Who would possibly want to hang out with a lost alien who's parents didn't even want her.'

"Stop it!" Kara shouted. She brought her hands up to her head and started rocking back and forth.

The room started to spin. She could hear every little beep of a microwave, every pet scratching at a door, every scream from her dying planet.

"Make it stop. Please. Everyone just stop."

Tears streamed down Kara's face. She continued rocking and pushing her hands into her head, trying to stop the noise.

"shirt." Alex ran to Kara's room without another word.

"Kara are you okay?"

"Try to take some deep breaths."

"You're safe here."

"It's okay Kara. Breathe."

Kara continued rocking back and forth. Her thoughts swirled about in her head, one insult after another.

"Everyone stop," Alex stated as she ran out of Kara's room. She was holding something in her hand.

Alex knelt down next to Kara and held up the earmuffs. She slowly pulled Kara's hands away from her head; Kara didn't resist. Alex slid the muffs over Kara's ears and pulled her sister into a tight hug.

'It stopped. Why did it stop? What's going on?'

Kara took a slow, deep breath, and let herself be hugged by Alex.

'Oh.'

Kara's tears slowly stopped falling as Alex rubbed small circles into her back, never letting go. Kara eventually opened her eyes and spoke.

"Thank you, Alex." She hugged her sister back.

"You okay now?" Alex asked, still hugging her.

"Yea. Thank you."

"Anytime." Alex gave her a tight squeeze before finally letting go.

Kara felt sick as she realized all of her friends just witnessed her total breakdown.

"So uh. That happened," Kara laughed, trying to brush it off.

"Do you want to talk about?" Kelly asked. "Only if you want to."

"Well um, you guys deserve to know..."

Kara rubbed her arm and looked to Alex.

"She had a panic attack."

The room stopped and stared at the Danvers sisters.

"I used to get them a lot when I first came to Earth, after... Well after everything. I uh. I haven't had one since Psi showed up..."

"Kara is claustrophobic, which usually is what triggered it," Alex explained.

"Is that why I found you staring at the closet?" Nia asked, concerned for her friend.

Kara nodded, but couldn't bare looking at her.

"Sometimes," Alex continued. "sounds and noise cause it, which is why I got the special earmuffs Dad made for her."

"Jeremiah knew I struggled with my powers." Kara looked up and smiled. "He made me these glasses, so I could control my x-ray vision. He also made a few pairs of earmuffs that keep me from hearing anything. I forgot I even had them, until now..."

"Kara," Kelly started. "This is nothing to be ashamed of."

Kara looked up at Kelly, tears forming in her eyes.

"But I'm the Girl of Steel. I can't just break because the microwave keeps beeping."

"But you're also a person." Kelly came over and put her hands on Kara's. "You deserve as much as help as you give others. You don't have to do this alone."

Kelly squeezed Kara's hands, and Kara looked her in the eyes.

"You sure?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not disappointing anyone?"

"No Kara," Kelly answered. "You're not a disappointment."

"We love you" Alex said as she pulled Kara into a hug. "All of us do."

"I'm impressed with how well you've handled everything," Lena chimed in. Everyone turned and looked at her. "I'm just saying! I turn to the bottle every other night, and I'm not the last daughter of an entire planet."

Everyone laughed at Lena's statement and Kara gave a slight smile.

"If there's anything we can do, please let us know." Nia smiled over at Kara.

"I uh," Kara stammered. "Maybe a group hug?"

Immediately, everyone surrounded her and squished her in the middle of all their love and support (and their arms). She was squished up next to Lena and couldn't help but blush. Tears fell onto Lena's shirt as Kara's walls came crashing down. For the first time since she got to Earth, Kara let herself break.

***

After the tears stopped falling, everyone returned to game night and the rest of the night was filled with joy and laughter. Kelly talked to Kara about joining her PTSD program, to go along with her regular therapy. After a moment's hesitation, Kara agreed.

Weeks passed and Kara started feeling better. She kept an eye out for whoever was causing the breakdowns, but she couldn't find anything, or anyone.

'Maybe Psi was right...'

[thecomicsnexus]

Youngblood Home Team

YOUNGBLOOD #1 APRIL 1992 BY ROB LIEFELD, HANK KANALZ, BRIAN MURRAY, DIGITAL CHAMELEON

SYNOPSIS (FROM IMAGE COMICS DATABASE)

In Washington, a young man and his girlfriend are walking in the mall. A thief grabs a handbag from someone nearby, and the man, whose name is Jeff, runs after him. Tackling the man, he is about to be shot by an assassin o a nearby rooftop, but when someone shouts a warning, Jeff grabs a pen from his pocket and throws it at the assassin, hitting him in the neck. Checking the assassin, Jeff can find no ID. However, he gets a call from HQ, and has to run off.

In Baltimore, Bedrock is having breakfast with his mother. He gets a call from HQ and has to leave as well. His mother wishes him well.

At a secret underground vault in Arlington, Diehard is freed. He vows to make better use of his freedom "this time".

At his apartment in Arlington, Chapel gets the call from HQ. He tells the woman he is in bed with that she should leave her number. He puts on his costume and leaves.

In Washington, Vogue is patrolling the city. She received the message like the others, but she decides not to respond

At HQ, Shaft arrives and tells off Photon and Vogue for being late. Before he can say anything else, the team gets a call for assistance: two members of a supercrime group known as The Four were arrested, and the remaining two are now breaking them out.

On a street in Washington, Strongarm and Gage free Deadlock and Starbright. However, Youngblood arrives. Diehard ambushes Strongarm, and the rest of the team charges in after the other villains.

FLIP BOOK: YOUNGBLOOD AWAY TEAM

A news reader tells the story that a terrorist group called the Holy Unification, led by a man named Hassan Kussein, has taken control of the Israeli Occupied territories for four months. The President of the United States has vowed to send in forces, but remains siolent on whether they will be superhuman or not. A reporter on the scene has no news, but he is led away by government agents as the Youngblood away team jump out of a plane.

Combat, a member of Youngblood, admits that there are more forces than they were told in the briefing, but he doesn't care. Sentinel point out that he wasn't paying attention in the briefing.

After the group disables their foes, they try to break into a small building. However, it is protected by an energy field and the team is incapacitated by advanced technology - except for Psi-Fire, who sneaks into the building and kills Kussein with his psychic powers.

When the rest of the team finds out, they are annoyed and angered. Sentinel sends them back to the jet and calls the clean-up crew.

The next day, a newspaper proclaims that Kussein killed himself.

REVIEW

If you removed all the dialogue from this comic... it would make it better. If after that you removed the art... it would make more sense.

Where do I start?

Dialogues: Horrible, just horrible. Hank Kanalz is (if Wikipedia is to be believed) the designer of the Image logo (the only IP that the company actually owns). But he is not exactly a regular comic-book writer, he seems to have make it far in management (at Wildstorm and Vertigo). Good for him!

Plot: If the comic is to be believed, Liefeld was the one that wrote the plot for this flip book. I can totally believe that. At some point the story abruptly ends and I didn’t even realize.

Concept/Ideas: These characters are all rip-offs of other characters. This is not unusual in comics but when all of them have the same personality and speech patterns, you realize it’s not a “spin” on an idea. Badrock is perhaps the only character that sounds different. The Away Team is barely explained, I can imagine what it is, but it is not explained how one is connected to the other.

Art:

What can I say about Liefeld style that hasn’t been said before? Well, it makes no sense. And it’s not just the size of the parts in a body, it’s things like the panel above, where bodies bend into impossible postures. Heads that are smaller than fists, perspective and proportions that make little sense. And when in doubt, just do lines everywhere, that way you don’t have to draw backgrounds and stuff.

But you cannot blame the artist for this, you have to blame the paying customers. There was high demand for Liefeld comics in 1992 (and there still is).

Still on a technicality, I have to give this issue a score of 3

[iconicdisquiet]

>ID: Set the barre.

@rebatrolls

-- iconicDisquiet [ID] is now trrolling unruffledVanquisher [UV]! --

ID: You simpering hypocrite. ￣へ￣ ID: You know, sometimes I think to myself: am I too harsh on Vadadear? Who is he, ultimately, but some kid of a seagoat, thrashing around in the shallows of life? Why, you might say to yourself, that's terrible, how could anything be so daft as to get stuck there? But ultimately, you can't exactly judge. All you can do is click your tongue and know that, eventually, it'll either asphyxiate, or figure it out. ID: But then you go and prove that, honestly, you absolutely warrant every cruel allegation towards your honesty, common decency, and common sense that I've ever given. ID: Out of all the doctors on the ship, you really go to Ullane. ID: The yellowblood. ID: Is your organisation so poor that they can't afford a higher mediculler, sweetheart? ID: Because frankly, I just don't buy it! UV: Careful. UV: You are sounding a bit casteist. ID: Well, heavens to betsy, we just can't be having that. It's not casteism, sweetheart, to say that the Empire might want someone a little higher to go looking at their little pet projects gear. ID: After all, they're the ones who say it's just not worth the time to go training lowbloods up for that sort of work~ UV: On top of just sounding like a pupa who had candy taken from them, spitting out accusations and hitting the ground. ID: You went and practically wept over me talking to your precious Nanako, and then you swing around and start hitting up my folks. ID: Why, were you just that keen for attention after a whole, long week? Couldn't abide not having my name in your inbox? ￣へ￣ ID: Congratulations, darling, you've got it. And all it took was making a fool of yourself, making a show of digging up the only mediculler on the station who just so happens to know me. UV: I was referred to Ullane. My apologies for not immediately realizing that it was, as you like to say, your Ullane and... Asking for another mediculler, I suppose. UV: To spare your delicate feelings. UV: Would you like to claim that I damaged myself on purpose to see her as well? UV: While you are busy hurling nonsense at me. ID: How in the world do you damage metal fronds in the first place? ID: Did you go and stick them in a blender? ヽ(｀⌒´)ノ UV: I do not think that is any of your concern. ID: I don't actually care, mind. But you're the one bringing up the injury. ヾ(¯^￣๑) And it is awfully hard to break metal. ID: But your incompetence isn't my business, it's true! UV: Honestly Iconic. Do you have nothing better to do with your nights than to stir yourself in to a froth over Ullane treating someone? ID: I just don't know. You certainly didn't have anything better to do than clutch your pearls over my daring to talk to your battery. ID: I'm just amazed, that's all! UV: We both know why I did not want you trying to use Nanako, you can drop the coy act any time now. ID: Would you believe that I just don't have the faintest idea? UV: Any time you say 'would you believe' I know it is a lie. UV: So no. UV: However, if you could perhaps take a moment to realize that the universe does not, in fact, revolve aorund you, you might take a moment to realize that Ullane is a skilled mediculler with plenty of knowledge about biowire. UV: So perhaps you should not disparage her for her caste or think that she does not deserve higher profile clients because of it. ID: ID: Since when is stating the obvious disparaging? UV: You are quite hopeless, do you know that? UV: I went to Ullane because she was highly recommended. My apologies that I did not chose to see someone higher but without the same amount of skill. ID: Well, it's positively lovely to know that you're one of the few finfaces looking for skill over hue. Forgive me if I just didn't innately realise. ヽ(｀⌒´)ノ ID: And I just don't think a basic general counts as high-profile, by the way. Don't get too up on yourself, now. ID: She's worked on far more prestigious folks. Or are you the one being disparaging, now? ╮(╯▽╰)╭ UV: 'It's not casteism, sweetheart, to say that the Empire might want someone a little higher to go looking at their little pet projects gear.' UV: You do a very poor job at backtracking. ID: It's not backtracking. I didn't realise you went out, looking for a mediculler yourself, that's all. ID: Aren't those sort of things usually assigned? ID: ID: You know what, never mind. ID: I don't actually care. ╮(╯▽╰)╭ UV: So you are admitting that you came in here assuming I had been assigned to Ullane. UV: But still decided to contact me, acting aghast, as if I had plotted it. ID: Oh, don't act as if you couldn't just request a new one. UV: Why would I have? Do you think I wished to spend all night turning my nose up at medicullers? ID: ID: Do you even read my text, or do you just look at all of the pink, let your eyes unfocus, and float around whatever thoughts you've got going in that empty pan of yours? ID: More ways to rail on my theatrics, maybe? ID: I'm not here to outline every step of your hypocriscy, Vadadear, even though I'm sure that'd just be a glorious use of your time. ID: More use than you usually get out of it, at least. UV: Honestly at this point, I was beginning to get used to not having to look at any of the pink. UV: And I am a bit occupied with much more important things than you having another fit. UV: Will you be going back to pretending I do not exist after this, then? ID: ID: Well, heavens, I just didn't know you were so keen on my attention that I can't go. What? A week or two without brightening your doorstep? ID: Maybe if you actually do something interesting, folks would pay more attention. ID: Just a tip~ ID: And what important things are you up to? ID: Smashing your fingers under ships again? ╮(╯▽╰)╭ UV: Darkening my doorstep. I was enjoying that you had sulked off to whatever sewer you usually crawl out of. UV: Perhaps you should return there. Since you are busy spewing garbage. UV: Confidential, Iconic. ID: Of course you were. That's why you went and answered the message, instead of your usual little exit strategy, isn't it? ฅ'ω'ฅ ID: And one night, you'll go ahead and learn a new word than just confidential. ID: But y'know what? ID: That's fine. I'm sure I don't even care to know~ And my point's been made, so I'll let you get back to - ID: - well, whatever it is you do, when you're not mangling your hands. UV: Mmm. UV: As long as you try to avoid getting shot at. UV: And your 'point' is as dull as your wit. As always.

-- unruffledVanquisher [UV] has stopped messaging iconicDisquiet [ID]!--

Well! That went better than you’d thought.

All things considered, even you know this is absurd. Stalking is not, despite all of Vadaya’s cruel jibes, actually a hobby of yours! Other people have never been interesting enough to warrant your attention, never mind enough to dedicate it to them. And you do know normal boundaries. In some circles, this sort of thing might be flattering. In most..

.. well. It’s essentially stalking.

You’ll just have to hope that Vadaya thinks of it as the former, that’s all, because you were halfway through this plan when the absurdity struck you, and it’s too late to back down now. Besides! He’d accused you of having no ambition, and having no motives. He’d said you were lazy, coasting on long-passed victories, and unable to emulate them before. He’d said a lot of things.. and everything you’ve pulled together tonight is a sign that he’s wrong, and you were right. He thought he knew you! He doesn’t know a single fucking thing about you, and you’ve got every plan to rub his nose in that fact. It’s not stalking. It’s showcasing your efforts, making him realise the sort of troll that he’s dealing with, even if you have to lead him to the water and drown him to make it set in.

It’s the sort of stunt that you might find endearing, if you were interested in someone pitch.

After you’d finished ripping them to pieces over it. But you’d like to see Vadaya try.

.. you’d really, really like to see him try.

The city of Civitrecce isn’t exactly your favorite place to be. It’s a huge, bustling metropolis filled to the brim with the sort of trolls that you’d like to sink your psi into: cullbait and mutants, highbloods with enough modifications that they could pass as either, hauling aliens behind them on chains and leashes. And the city itself isn’t much of a looker. Oh, there’s white sands as far as the eye can see off on the eastern edge, but that’s the problem with it. All of it’s got white somewhere, from the shining streets to the high-rises blocking out nearly every inch of the sky.

White, and red so bright that it makes you feel like you’re back in Temasek. But you’re not. More importantly, you’re not going to let yourself go and get spooked off of your mission over something as simple as architecture. It’d taken actual weeks of work to pull all of this together: first, in convincing Zhuang that the news of the Shepherd’s coolant implant had been stolen and was being sold was legitimate, and then in convincing him this was something that they could sell back to her, and then in pulling the information out of them after, in slow trickles as they’d sent off their messages, and waited for the responses.

The QPIN had always worked with the Imperial Education Program, long before you were hatched, and long before even the current Queenpin had emerged from the caverns. As one of the largest manufacturers of helming technology, and the largest producer of helms, they shared technology, employees, and most importantly, news. You’d heard the name enough when she and Raphae droned away in her office, more than any other business. You’d seen the name on enough technology, and on enough collars, scarred down to the bone with the name of what company’s ships the helming recruits would serve.

You’d known how Shepherd would take the news, as soon as she heard it. More importantly, you’d known what she’d ask! Your proctor had sat on the message for two, three nights before she’d thanked Zhuang for the notice, and then she’d asked them to take care of it. And why wouldn’t she? She didn’t know anything about this business, not really, but it wasn’t the sort of thing that she handled. She was a scientist and a businesswoman, not a keeper of soldiers.

And luckily, the QPIN turned out to have hooks in those as well.

You’ve never met a Scimitar prior to Vadaya and Rumisa. Oh, you’d read the pages and pages online on them, after you’d first met him, and then in the weeks after. Everything that can be accessed publicly! Everything that can be accessed privately, for those outside of the organisation, because even Raphae’s credentials won’t get you into another program’s personal servers. You’d called them glorified ruffianhilators, when you’d first met him, and really, you stand by that. There’s no point to them, and no reason for their sheer amount of pride; anything they do, then you’re certain you could manage it better.

Maybe not for some of the more headstrong ones, but.. well, you’re just not interested in using your psionics to their full potential. There’s nothing showy about the scale of work that your pan is geared towards. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t, if you tried, and it doesn’t mean you don’t know what you’re capable of. You’d taken stress tests like the rest of your program, regularly enough to see how far you could be pushed. The body is full of small, vital parts, and places where the slightest tug of psi could set everything wrong.

So one of them can break walls with their scream. It’s not impressive.

And you refuse to be impressed by Zhuang’s pet Scimitar, no matter how much they prompt you. Tenienté Longhaul is a lieutenant general for the Imperial Psionic Corps, a tealblood with a combat history nearly as far as back as the first Ascension. He’s a speedster, a soldier, and a hundred different things that your contact had tried to press on you - but ultimately, the only thing that matters is he’s the one that assigns Vadaya’s missions.

Which is why you’re pacing along the brim of a roof, sipping on some pink and green powdered abomination of a drink as you watch the street. This is the most likely path for Vadaya to head to, you think. The laboratory is three streets over still, the sort of perfectly Modernist abomination that’s only unobstrusive in this hellhole of a city. It’s at the end of a dead end street, with the sea behind it and cliffs that crumble into a sheer drop, so you don’t expect he’ll go trying to climb it.

Especially not when you know the cliffs are wired with defenses for the institute honeycombed through them. He might still! If he does..

Vadaya’s interesting because he thinks he’s smarter than you: not just in books, but ways that actually count. He thinks he’s more competent, more agile, better in a thousand different ways. If he gets shot up trying to be clever, the only unfortunate part will be that you can’t watch it happen.

But it won’t happen. Already, you think you see a familiar set of horns cutting through the crowd, just as brisk as he’d been on Epiphany. And you could lunge down, introduce yourself properly, but.

.. you hate him. You hate this, because now that the moment’s come, your plan suddenly seems so much more ridiculous than it was in your head. What is this, one of Riccin’s musicals? You’ll show up at his mission, this time on purpose, and he’ll be infuriated, but impressed at your.. brass? Your confidence?

The fact that, for all of his showboating of the fact he’s an imperial soldier, that you can set yourself up as his equal just by pulling strings?

Of course he will. Vadaya’s yet to do anything that’ll surprise you, and you think - you hope - that you’re still on track. You’d be impressed! If he isn’t, then that isn’t your problem, is it? It’s his.

And in the meanwhile, you just need to remind yourself of what you tell your pupas: if you’re going to have cold feet, you might as well cut them off. So you drop off the roof as he passes under you, pose as neat as any lunge, and as you fall, you shoot off a message in your pan.

-- iconicDisquiet [ID] is now trolling unruffledVanquisher [UV]! -- 

ID: Hey there, stranger~

“Fancy seeing you here,” you call down, amused, and you don’t let your trepidation show. “Why, what a coincidence.”

-- iconicDisquiet [ID] has stopped messaging unruffledVanquisher [UV]!--

[god-hunter]

X-Men: Gold #26-30

This was the ‘Til Death Do Us Part arc, and boy was it a drag. Well, issue 30 anyway.  But the adventure was actually pretty good!  I was never looking forward their wedding in the first place though, which means I didn’t really mind the ending, lol.

Issue 26, showed us a neat flashback of Kitty meeting Piotr for the very first time and instantly having a crush on him. They cut to now, where they’re having lunch in South America for some reason and have a half-hearted conversation about why it took so long for them to get here. Almost as if Kitty is having second thoughts..

But then action takes place. Rachel, Gambit, Rogue, Night Crawler and Storm are trying to track down Mesmero.  They end up catching him and have I mentioned that Storm got a serious upgrade in the form of Asgardian Armor, with a hammer and all?  I should have mentioned it last time, but she ended up receiving Stormcaster, while in Prison, which was a big deal and a throwback to an old story, apparently.  So now, she’s basically replacement Jane Foster. (At least for the time being).  [To be honest, if they had made that decision in the first place, I might have actually read the Thor books...]

Anyway, the real premise starts when Nance and the nanite that survived, whose calling himself Alpha now, come up with a crazy plan to abduct Piotr.  Fast forwarding to his Bachelor Party that night, this is where that abduction takes place.  He gets his ass kicked in the bathroom by Alpha and is taken away.

Issue 27 started with another flashback, to when Kitty first made a move on Piotr. That was pretty neat.  Cut to now, the rest of the bachelor party are distraught that Piotr is gone.

Storm talks to Rachel about her cool Stormcaster upgrade while also showing concern that Rachel is getting to powerful, herself. [Hypocritcal, much?  Nah I get it. Rachel has like dark power from the future, or something.] Her whiskers are back and everything.

Kitty, Rachel, Storm & Rogue become alerted to the fact that Piotr is missing. [And we’re given a brief explanation as to why the other guys aren’t around. Something about scouting the area..   Yeah, okay...]

In the Savage Land, that is where Pete is being held captive.  Nance reveals that she wants to extract the Legacy Virus from his DNA or something and kill the rest of the Mutant race with it.

The Gold Team regroups in Vegas, where they all somehow track him down to the Savage Land. [Overpowered Rachel plot device saves the day].

Piotr and Alpha have a talk about how this plan doesn’t make sense and using the logic, Alpha admits that he is a mutation of a sort, too. Which is why he will self-terminate after enacting his plan.  [Jeez]

From there on, it’s action city as the Gold Team infiltrates the facility, fights Alpha nanites, Kitty gets to slam Nance into the wall and threaten her..

And then amidst all the crazy action, the bad guys get away in a rocket ship.

It’s time to go to space.

Issue #28 was the “Space Race!”  This one was well-paced.  It starts with a flashback from Piotr’s perspective, back at Genetech Laboratories, years ago. [I only vaguely know about this story].  He was kidnapped for a long time, and thought he was dead, but then eventually Kitty saved him.

Cut to now, where Piotr yells at Alpha for doing this.

At the Savage Land facility, Nance, thinking she’s already won allows Kitty and the others to leave, unharmed.  The nanites all back down.  “I’m going to permit you to leave this place, get back on your Mutie plane and return home. Hug your loved ones. Make your peace. Say your goodbyes.” “I’m not a monster”.

Ah..hah...  

Kitty decks her anyway on their way out. Hahaha. That was funny.  Then they get on that Blackbird jet and take Nance with them.  Rachel gets scary dark, when she tries to read Nance’s mind which is blocked with Psi-shields.  She overpowers her mind, Nance falls to the ground and hits her head hard.  Then she finds out what she needs.  “Peter’s being taken to a defunct Roxxon Oil Station.”

WIth the help of Alpha Flight, they get there.  A bunch of missiles a flung at them and Storm goes out in Space to destroy them all.  [Storm is WAY overpowered with that StormCaster, but it sure is Hella cool.]

Then in an awesome way, their ship gets damaged and is about to crash right into the station.  But Kitty uses her phasing powers to have the whole ship phase right into the place.  It’s still a messy crash landing, but at least they’re all inside.  That was really cool to see.

More Nanites come after them, but Kitty figures out that Piotr is four floors below them.  [Thanks Rachel].  Kitty immediately phases right down the floors. “Hang on Peter... I’m coming for you.”

That one was actually really touching and exciting. I liked that issue.

Issue #29 starts with a flashback of Kitty hearing about Piotr being in trouble with the Legacy Virus.  They had been done at this time, but it threw her off mid-flirt with a guy and made her cry deeply, making her realize she still has feelings for him, I’m sure.

Cut to now, Piotr is more-less going through the same thing.  Alpha’s vague plan of siphoning whatever remnants of the Legacy Virus that is in his DNA is working.  Kitty phases into the room where Alpha tells her that it’s already too late.  “The procedure completed 0.34 seconds before you arrived.” Then he self-terminates as promised.

From there, the space station itself launched a weapon which shoots out a bunch of pods, I guess contained with the Legacy Virus?  These will apparently land everywhere on Earth, and kill anyone with an X-Gene.

Because they’re in the form of pods, Storm gets to do her cool Stormcaster thing again.  Pyro, who is down on Earth gets to play the hero as well and blast whatever remaining pods are in the atmosphere, while ‘surfing on a jet’.

That was whatever. I didn’t really care.  But the day was saved and Kitty & Piotr just had another traumatic moment which would bring them closer together.  Somewhere in these issues, she vented to Rogue about how she was kind of getting cold feet, because she figured if they were gonna get married, it would have happened already.  Rogue told her to shut those feelings the fuck up, and not let the universe get in the way of her happiness.  They can save the day and still be together. There’s no reason why they shouldn’t.

So...  This basically takes us to the ending.  Issue 30. The Big Wedding Marvel’s been promoting for like, half a year.

I wasn’t looking forward to it. I never asked for it.  And then, in the end...  It didn’t happen!!!

Pay close attention to that cover in Issue #30, where her hand is phasing through Colossus’.

This issue has one last flashback, to them breaking up in the past. Flash forward to now, they are in the same place, by the same hill they broke up on, about to have their Wedding outdoors.  [Why would you ever do that??]

Moreover, there’s a party that takes place. The Rehearsal Dinner. And most of this is whatever, so I’ll get to the point.  Illyana pulls Kitty aside. She’s her best friend, remember and also Piotr’s brother.  And while a little drunk, I guess she does some probing and asks for some deep down honesty from her gal pal.

And then she says it.  Ilyyana brings up what Kitty’s been worried about in the back of her mind for all this time.  “I just think if you two were meant to be together... It would’ve happened by now.”

This simple sentence is enough to spread doubt through her mind.  Come time of the big day, there’s a lot of fan fare, and glory pages of people getting to the wedding. Including Wolverine! Actual Young Logan, who looks at them from afar on a rooftop. “Godspeed kids. Be good to each other.”

Well... simply put...  They’re not!

They get to placing of the rings and Kitty just phases through his hand at the last minute.

She apologizes that she can’t do this and phases through the ground.

Even for me, this is sad, but part of me was going ‘Yes Yes Yes Yes!!!!!!!’

aaaand now Piotr is heartbroken.  Then, Gambit decides to take over!

He and Rogue have been an item again, ever since Astonishing X-Men I think, or maybe earlier.  So it’s no secret that they’re smitten again.  So right then and there, he decides that THEY should just get married.

And Bam!  Someone got married.  ‘Til Death Do Us Part’ arc concluded...

There is an after-talk, but Kitty doesn’t make sense. She doesn’t understand why she made her split-decision.  But Piotr can’t have that.

This book is ending soon, and I’m glad.  I told you I’ve been luke-warm about this thing almost since it started.  The writing is okay, I just don’t know what it is that I don’t love.  The whole Kitty & Piotr thing felt forced to me. It really did.  So I was glad this ended.

But what I didn’t expect was that now Colossus was gonna bow out. And he was actually going to enter a different book that I didn’t expect - Astonishing X-Men, which got WAY better after Issue 12.

I guess I’ll review those, next, but I REALLY want to get to the X-Men Blue stuff. I have been LOVING that book and will be sad to see it go.

[cloudbattrolls]

Rising Steam

Maidel Juzuxt || Present Day

Zelist guides your hand with hers, and it’d be wrong to say you have flutterbugs in your digestive sac, but you don’t want her to take it away either.

“This mural’s a few cohorts old, but that’s nothing to a blueblood; you should hear how they natter about the future like it’s something they have to slog through.”

“I know.” You pipe up. “I spent a couple of sweeps with clowns.”

Zelist lets her hand drop, and while a brief flash of panic goes through you you realize she’s just putting it to her chin, like she does when she’s thinking.

“Really? Haha, sorry; I figured you weren’t Derevnyan, but several places don’t have clowns, or even indigos at all. There’s not too many here; more seadwellers, even.”

“That’s true.” You admit, toying with a strand of hair. “My hometown had some highbloods, but I didn’t mix with them...”

You sort of wish she’d ask why you hung around with clowns. It surprises most people, and you actually want to tell her. 

“Um. How did you find out about this mural?” You ask. Maybe if you ask her enough questions, she’ll want to ask you some.

“Now that - “ She says, spinning around, arms outstretched. “ - is a story. Better to tell it where we can be warm.”

You take one more look at the mural of trolls in a circle, all holding books, lingering on the spot where Zelist guided your hand: to where there’s an image of a troll shifting into a beast. 

Then you hurry after her, trying not to slip in the half-melted puddles of snow from the puffing steam.

--

“I attended one of the universities briefly.” She says as the two of you get settled in the banya, settling on the mats you’ve placed on the wood . You like the Derevnyan word for the bath house; it sounds casual and friendly. You like how Zelist takes off her headband and her hair goes loose and tumbles down around her shoulders as she also takes off her jacket so that her shoulders are bare; it’s very pretty.

“- but then I stopped fire banana walnut.”

“What?” You double-take and blink a few times, and she’s looking at you, amused.

“Listening now?”

You flush green and you wish you could rewind the last minute of your life. You could really use Chimer’s old powers about now.

“It’s okay.” She comments, amused, and you relax slightly, though still embarrassed and pay close attention now, though the gold spirals of her claw laquer on the black below gleam in the light.

“I took classes at one of the universities, because some of them are fleet prep, you know? I wanted to get an early start on what I might be good at, get a lowblood position but in one of the better departments. Wind up as someone’s personal assistant if I was lucky. Met my ex there; he was the one who got me into the city’s culture more.”

You nod. “So he studied magic?”

She laughs, rapping her claws on the wood. 

“No one studies magic, Maidel, it’s not real. He did love to talk to the experimenters, though; they come up with interesting stuff sometimes. One of them told him about how a while back, one troll nearly won the dean’s prize; but it turns out they were just a weird psiionic. Still, they made such a fuss that they almost got themselves culled, and one professor did die, though according to uni legend, she had it coming.”

You’re warm, now, and the heat is making your nose run, but Zelist’s story has your interest.

“I was curious, but he didn’t want to tell me any more about it; said it shouldn’t be talked about, even though it was almost thirty sweeps ago now. So I asked, and I asked, and finally one of the students took me to it, but...then a pelican dive-bombed us before I got a good look at it. We lived, but she lost an ear and a chunk of her shoulder and told me she never wanted to see my face again, or me near that mural.”

She pauses for breath, and you scrabble for a tissue in your sylladex and blow your nose briefly.

“Turns out her pitch crush got wind of that, and they took me and told me the story.” She smiles contentedly.

You whistle, impressed at her tenacity. You can’t imagine bugging people that much.

“You said before that this troll...they tried to prove magic, but they were a shapeshifter?”

“Of course. Shapeshifting’s showy, but it’s nothing another psiionic with the right power can’t do, and that doesn’t win the dean’s prize; it has to be a power you don’t already have, still with recognizable laws that can test and validate it. What’s beyond me is why they thought rampaging when they were found out was appropriate.”

Maybe they were possessed, you think, remembering Blanca. A shapeshifter who didn’t have it as her psi, a sentient ghost, a magic user, a lime. Everything that shouldn’t exist in one person.

You envy Zelist her calm assurance that magic isn’t real. That it doesn’t still fester in the corners of Alternia where even the Empire has little reach, or has forgotten.

“What’s really interesting about the story, I think...they only killed one person, even though several others were injured and they destroyed university property. It was just one professor, who they’d been working closely with before, but this troll said that her last words were ‘You stole my success’ before she died. Nothing ever got proven, but I wonder if she didn’t sabotage them somehow, make them go insane so they’d go feral and flee. Though why would that have been necessary? They weren’t going to prove magic, steal her credit or anything.”

You nod. You have your own theories, and it makes you want to shudder despite the heat. At least Zelist doesn’t seem to suspect that instead of sabotaging them, the shapeshifter was the professor’s achievement.

“Anyway, now you owe me something cool.”

“Oh! Of course.”

You think about where to take her for your next date, but your mind keeps circling around to the same conclusion: someone is using magic in Derevnya.

Someone who should be stopped.

[twotoned2marta22-blog]

SNIPS: MEET

Dollee is very easy to get information from. He knows barely anything, of course, but at least it’s easy. He seems a tiny bit less afraid of you as time goes on, and more... awed? Fucked up, you think, but with what you can get him to ramble out it makes an amount of sense.

Apparently, you’ve been abducted to help save trolls, in a great action Dollee knows nothing about. He sees you as some sort of hero.

It takes a lot of effort to not laugh at that.

He insists several times though that you aren’t really a prisoner, and that everything will make sense once a troll named “Lady Megido” explains everything to you. You question why it won’t be the Peixes, he stammers something about her being away to “work and work and work for the good of all of us, sir...!”

Dollee reminds you of yourself about four sweeps back.

It’s hard not to puke.

Despite yourself, you run out of energy to keep poking at him to see what information falls out. He has questions for you, though, just bursting with curiosity, wanting to know what it feels like to be “a breath of calm, sir, must it be relieving to change a troll’s mood like that?”

No, you want to snarl, but instead you sigh and brace yourself to move empty bowls onto the tray. Dollee whisks them all away before you can reach any, though, apologizing profusely. He does that a lot. He talks to you like you’re holy.

Everything about this place is wrong. Are you even in the same reality anymore? Have you missed something?

Dollee is picking up the tray and cautiously backing away, babbling something about how he’s dawdled long enough.

“This is the last you’ll be seeing of me tolight, sir, next up is my teacher, you see! Sondei Clohvs, she’s more serious and a much gooder cook, you’ll like her I think, sir...! OH.”

You hadn’t been paying attention, but now you snap back up. Dollee had opened the door, and standing in his way is an adult rustblood. Curled horns, black skin, large and softly built. Gray streaks in her hair. She’s lived long enough to have gray streaks in her hair?

“Lady Megido, I can explain...!”

“Move along, Hayloh, don’t fret,” Megido replies. Her voice is as soft as she looks, except something twists inside you when she looks your way. There is nothing you can get past this troll.

Dollee hurries out the door, which Megido holds open for him. The sleeve of her dress rolls back and you can see burnt, slowly healing skin.

You had meant to keep the dull knife you had stolen tucked away until you needed it, but the realization of her being the one who took you has you lashing out on reflex. The blade is barely millimeters from her throat when she stops it, and stops you.

“Bitch.”

“Hayloh,” Megido says calmly, keeping you in place with only one fucking finger lifted. Dollee is quaking in the doorway. “Go to your block now, take tomorrow off. You’ve earned some rest.”

“No, Dollee, you’ve spent time alone with a troll who despises your mistress, and you need to take tomorrow off to be reprogrammed.” you snarl, straining against Megido’s psi. It hurts and you refuse to stop. “A troll who would love if that accursed Peixes and her fucking rabid barkbeast of a slave would rot deep below, where not even the fish would deign to eat them.”

Dollee drops the tray. He’s in tears. “I, sir, I...! Lady Megido...!”

“Jolyre,” Megido calls, looking mildly furious. A hulking purple guard appears and physically lifts Dollee out of the block. The door closes. The mildly furious look is now focused on you. “I was under the impression you weren’t the sort of troll to get his globes off by terrorizing wrigglers.”

"Really, you thought if you sent me some skittish grub I would be kind?” you spit. “I don’t care what kind of troll you send me, I’ll kill them and I’ll kill you and I will leave your gutted body to be burned up by the suns. I will tear your Holy Peixes apart, and you will do nothing but stand there and watch me, like the fucking fool you--”

“Interesting.”

She doesn’t look the tiniest bit shaken. Actually, she’s walking right up to you. Still holding you frozen with her psi.

“I probably haven’t met any troll angrier than you are right now,” Megido says, almost intrigued. “And you’re hardly at inhive voice. Ampora really did prefer his trolls to be quiet. What was it about the schoolfeeding’s structure for it to have such a lasting affect on you?””

You’re silent.

Your mouth keeps opening but you’re fucking silent. Megido stares down at you for a moment, and in another second you tumble to the floor as her psi lets you go.

“Nice to formally meet you, Snips,” she says calmly, and you feel a chill at that. How does she know that name? “I’m Aradia Megido. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each from now on, but since you’re still so disoriented I’ll give you some space. Tell the guards you're ready to talk to me when you want some answers.”

“Answers.”

“To everything!” Aradia smiles, and it is the most unsettling thing you’ve ever seen. “You’ve been my project for the last twelve sweeps, so I can explain a lot of the things you missed. Good light, now.”

And just like that, she’s gone.

She’s left a palmhusk in your hand, though, and now matter what you tap, all it shows is a single trollian chat.

CS: y0u can send me y0ur questi0ns here t00

You fling the palmhusk away.

It doesn’t even make it to the near wall.

[ladytrollfishes]

Daginy: Feel

I’ve written a couple of things about Daginy’s time with Lyrian but nothing I ever felt okay with publishing just because it was too graphic, but this approach strikes a better balance i think, between the violence and what it does to a person. 

----

Daginy Chamae | 8 sweeps, 18 years | Granite Guts Harbor | 3118 words

tw: torture, suicide attempt and ideation

---

You’ve heard of Lyrian Aubade. It was in the files you went through by chance on the breakdown and work up of Granite Guts. Signmate to the man in charge, an interrogarroter. You had an agent in her office who had added blueprints and an overview of her power and personality to the mass of information the Magpies had gathered, if you could only remember everything you had read.

It’s hard to focus on that though, when she’s right in front of you, in a locked room, humming to herself as she makes careful stitches on an embroidery hoop. She barely pays any attention to you, but all your scrutiny is on her. Her face is calm, placid, half lidded and her paint barely creased. If it wasn’t for the clown paint and the fact she’s got you locked in a room with her, you probably would have passed her over as being a threat.

She doesn’t even have you tied up, that’s how confident she is about keeping you here. The room itself is pretty bare. The light is a bare bulb. The walls are painted a dull grey, but you can make out the faded outline of wire shelving against them. Probably a reworked storage room, and not the set up she had at her own office. You wonder why she’s not taking you there.

You haven’t been processed in the full extent of the law- why? You don’t expect you’ll get any answers, but you don’t get what Aubade’s even doing with her little art project.

What did the file say about her powers again? You know she has them and they’re definitely mind altering, that lets her see into what you’re feeling. It’s a power she shares with her signmate, which is how he found you when you attempted an escape. You picked the lock on the handcuffs and turned invisible when he left you in his office to get his signmate, but when he found you “gone” from the locked room, he had simply walked over to you and grabbed you.

You’d lost your psi for your fouled attempt- they plugged in a nullifier bug into the back of your neck so you’re basically done for. You didn’t tell anyone you’d be here so there’s no hope of rescue. As dumb of a move that had been, you’re somewhat grateful. To get you out of this situation wouldn’t be a good use of your limited resources. If Alnica staged an attempt and they failed? No, it’s better this way.

You just have to clamp down on everything. No feeling, no words. You’re not going to speak at all. All you have to do is hold out under torture. It’s been so long you’ve just been sitting here though, the hard edge of fear softens to a sort of anxiety. Maybe she won’t go through with it. Maybe you’ll just sit here forever.

Aubade sighs and you stiffen. You didn’t realize how relaxed your posture had gotten, even as your arms are folded tightly. She flips around her embroidery hoop to show you the result- two rows of embroidered letters.

“The measure of love is love without measure,” she reads, her voice soft and sentimental. “It’s a beautiful sentiment, isn’t it?”

You don’t say anything in return, just glare right back. What is she getting at? All she does is smile at you.

“You’re not in trouble dear,” she says. “It’s obvious you’ve been through some hard times. I imagine there were some extreme circumstances that lead you to the waterways below the harbor.

You don’t believe her. You know who she is, what she does, what she wants. But some part of you thinks that maybe you can use this to get out.

“You’re protecting something,” she continues, after an awkwardly long silence. “That much is clear to me. It’s also evident that you’re resourceful, talented, and very resilient. You are also much too young for this. Something must have forced you to this life.”

She’s on the wrong track. She doesn’t know anything about you. No name, no ID, no nothing. She’s just making conjectures and guesses, and that gives you somewhat of an edge, even as she tries to flatter you out of your shell.

“This meeting isn’t on the books,” she says, like you haven’t already figured that one out. “There is no crime charged here. What I see here isn’t a budding criminal but a talented but troubled young troll who, with a little help, could rise to the top very quickly.”

She’s going to give you an offer. Something you can use- but no. No, you can’t. Yeah, you might be resourceful and resilient- you wouldn’t have made it this far otherwise- but Aubade’s an adult whose torn through the heads of hundreds if not thousands of people. You can’t take any of the bait she’s laying out for you or you’d find yourself dangling at the end of her rope before you realized how you got there. She’s just fucking with you, this whole thing.

“No,” you say before you realize what you’re doing. “You’re full of shit.”

Aubade just smiles at you, razor thin, the sort of smile you see on faces that are about to hurt you. Your pumper beats itself dizzy with fear as she clucks her tongue at you.

“None of that language now,” she says, and before you can shove the chair back to avoid it, she’s already struck you across the face.

------

You’re not really a fighter- you’ve combat manuals and watched people brawl, but you didn’t commit to the practice you needed to actually be effective because there was always a million and one other things to do.

But you know to keep your thumb outside of your fist and when Aubade throws you to the ground and tries to pin you down, you manage to punch her in the cheek, grease paint coming off on your knuckles.

Aubade freezes as you wriggle in her grasp and you catch the look in her eye- enough venom to drown you in, and you lose your breath to the fear.

She snaps your finger backward for that, leaving you cringing on the ground as she beats you until you have to at least try to curl up to defend your head. It’s not even because you refused to answer a question- she’s hitting you just to hit you, because you hit her back.

There’s a brief reprieve from the blows and you chance a look up as Aubade tosses her curly mass of hair back behind her shoulders, the barest glisten of sweat through her make up. She grabs your wrist and wrenches you out of your cringe.

“Don’t you disrespect me,” she murmurs, low.

You’re seized by the sudden urge to spit in her face, but before you can go through with it, her eyes narrow and she hits you again and all you can do is take the blows from under her grip.

---------

It doesn’t always hurt when she touches you. Sometimes, when you’ve been sobbing for too long, she’ll just hold you instead. The first time she tried, you fought her, but that earned you a hand wrapped around your throat and your vision blurring until you passed out. You woke up in her arms, her fingers threading through your hair, a soft tune humming in your ears.

She could crush you like this. The fear holds you still, shaking, as Aubade just pets your hair and shushes your whimpers until slowly, very slowly the fear eases and you could have fallen asleep in her arms.

You’re just so tired- you hadn’t slept much the week before this even, and you don’t know how you’re this relaxed when you’re in pain and should be afraid but you find yourself drifting off.

———-

Torture involves a lot more scolding than you thought it would. It’s like she thinks she’s your lusus, with how she tells you you have to eat to keep your strength up, spoons food to your mouth, compliments you on being strong, tears into you for being disrespectful and ungrateful.

You’re glad you left your actual lusus with Alnica. You don’t want to know what Aubade would do with her.

You can’t bring yourself to fight with her anymore. You wish you could stay angry, but she’s beating it out of you. 

You’ve done too much of it yourself- you remember being furious a lot more often when you were younger, but when the stakes went up, keeping your cool became too important to let your temper get the better of you.

You try to hold onto it whenever a flicker of it comes by but she notices, always notices and she’ll scold you for it and strangle it out of you, until you’re so afraid she might notice you’re angry you can’t summon up any real heat at all.

But when she’s not hurting you, when she’s combing her fingers through your hair and humming, you can’t help but try to hold onto those moments for as long as possible.

Even though you know it’ll end with one thing- a quiet question, one you can’t answer, and it’ll all start over again.

——-

Do you deserve this?

Lyrian tolerates your quiet sobs as she stitches up your arm. It’s a measure that’ll let you live a little longer. 

You managed to find a screw in the corner of the room, dug the point deep into your arm and pulled, leaving a long brown line behind that bled and bled and bled. Lyrian had clamped a hand on the wound and pressed until you couldn’t feel your hand anymore, scolding you gently for the attempt on your life.

There was very little reason to stick around longer. There’s no hope of escape or rescue, and all Lyrian wants from you is something you can’t give.

You’ve hurt so many people, directly and indirectly. You’ve let people die. You’ve torn apart livelihoods and quadrants. Maybe this pain is the penance for all of that.

Did you do enough good to balance out the bad? Maybe you gave a few more sweeps to the mutants you’ve helped out, or the other rebels who relied on you before the empire catches up with them again.

You’ve never asked yourself before- you don’t know what you’d do if the answer is no- but now that you’re looking the end in the face- was it worth it? Was all the sacrifice, the stress, the pain- was it all worth it?

You don’t have an answer.

-----

Lyrian hums as she tapes your finger up, and it’s hard not to feel grateful that she’s even bothering. It’s the sixth one she’s broken, almost your whole hand- if she didn’t tape them up it’d be unbearable to move them at all.

She puts as much effort into fixing you as she does breaking you down. Some puppet that she rips and remakes until she’s satisfied with you. How long can you last? How much of you is what she’s made you?

How much does that matter when you’re going to die anyway? You try to hold as still as you can as she works, but you can’t help the shiver and whine that runs through you as she finishes up and rolls you onto your back raw with the stripes she just laid into you. You tremble with the effort to swallow the pain instead of reacting.

“Hush dear,” she says. “You know it could be worse.”

You know, but that doesn’t stop your vision from going slightly hazy with the pain pressing like a brand into your back.

“You wouldn’t have to put up with this if you only listened,” she murmurs. She puts a hand on your chest, right on your breastbone. You feel your chest expanding and contracting under hand as she leans in, tilting her chin closer to you. You grab onto her shoulder with a broken hand, a silent plea for her to ease off.

She cocks her head at you, her eyes cold and leans in, and for one crazy moment you think she might kiss you. You know you’re nothing to her but a punching bag with some information in it. Did you want her to kiss you? If she did, you’d let her. Some part of you is disgusted at the idea, but you’d be important to her, in at least that moment.

She’d hurt you less, you think, scrambling for someway to justify the thought. She’d hurt you less.

Instead of doing any of that, she asks you a question that you can’t answer and she shoves you further into the ground until you’re begging for her to stop please, you’d do anything.

It’s the first words you’ve said in… you’re not sure how long. Hours? Nights? Weeks? Perigees?

Lyrian smiles at you and your pumper leaps in your chest.

------

You tell her your name. Your voice is sore and it croaks but now she has something to call you besides wriggler.

You’ll die anyway, and you have nothing important associated to your legal name. Being called by your real name in the sea of aliases is a luxury Lyrian can give you.

Relief swamps you and floods to your eyes as she smiles her approval.

She asks you why and the words spill, stuttering from your lips as you explain why you broke into Granite Guts, sobbing as you do- you have no illusions about what she might do, but if no one else knows what happened to them at least she will, after you’re gone.

She’s the only thing you have left. If it wasn’t for her you wouldn’t hurt like this. If it wasn’t for her you’d be dead. That counted for something.

She’s the only comfort you have. You can’t hate her for that. You desperately wish you did.

Lyrian asks you another question, about who's been helping you and you want to tell her so badly.

But the question draws you out of the little bubble Lyrian has you trapped in. It reminds you of the outside world where you set up networks and connections and had people relying on you to keep your mouth shut.

You can’t tell her anything. You’ve already told her too much. Slowly, achingly, you clench your teeth together and seal away any desire you have to speak.

You feel her grip on you tighten, the hand in your hair seizing a handful as she pulls your head back. You know to expect pain.

But you don’t expect her to take your eye.

She cuts it out of your head and stitches the blood back in, and as fuzzy as you’re getting as she patches you up and hums, you hear someone scream your name.

———

You wake up somewhere different- cool air on your face grass on your skin and your first thought is that you’ve finally died.

Your second thought is that you didn’t think the afterlife was still so painful. It’d be just your luck to be tortured into ghost hood so that you’d be in pain forever.

“Daginy?”

That’s your name, your actual name and when you open your eyes- eye you see the night sky with a ship streaking up into the atmosphere.

You see Herlyn’s face and Ferra’s, and helmsman you don’t know. You stare at them. Were they dead too? You hate the thought- it’s been so long since you were in regular contact- did you just never know?

“Oh Daginy.” Ferra’s voice is a heart broken whisper as she reaches out to touch your face.

You flinch and your head throbs like someone’s pressed her finger in your empty socket.

You catch an exchanged glance between Herlyn and Ferra.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Herlyn tries, her voice soft. “You’re safe. We got you out of there, right?”

They… got you out?

You’re not dead? They came for you?

You struggle to sit up, as much as everything hurts, as much as your head throbs and try to get a grasp on what’s happening. Your head feels so fuzzy and you can’t quite catch up on what’s going on.

You got out? They got you out?

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to feel. Every heave of your chest strains your wounds and every breath feels broader and shallower.

When you finally open your mouth what comes out is a wail.

-------

Your mind is a mess as you try to sort out what you’re feeling and what you’re not. You try and remember who you were before you were taken- Herlyn says you were there for a week, which doesn’t sound right. It felt like maybe a perigee and she had taken you apart so thoroughly.

Lyrian’s power wasn’t just to sense what you were feeling, you’ve realized, but also to change it. Whenever she held you and hummed, she must have been changing something to make you feel warm and loved and-

You break off that chain of thought before you can start missing her.

You wish you figured that one out earlier. Maybe then you could have figured out if what you were feeling was yours or hers.

All you know for sure is that the anger is yours. She never liked it, squeezed as much as she could out of you.

The fear- well. She didn’t have to try very hard with that one. Anyone with a working pan would be afraid of her after what she did to you.

The rest of it is a jumble.

You hate yourself you’re angry you’re guilty you’re afraid and you miss her despite the pain. How much was Lyrian and how much was it you? You hate how your feelings and your thoughts were so distant from each other. You could feel one thing but know that you were made to feel that way and if you hadn’t been manipulated you’d feel something else that you don’t actually feel at all.

It was a mess. Lyrian did this to you, and you should hate her, you really really should. But you don’t and you can’t and so you hate yourself instead.

If there was a chasm between your pan and your pumper there was really only one thought that bridged the gap:

That you were better off dead.