#he feels like a failure especially how the reconstruction is going

[witchofthesouls]

Wait something funny just occurred to me. In the AU where the kids get cyber formed but remain on the edge of being adults, someone would have had to give them the Cybertonian version of The Sex Talk.

Would it be Ratchet, giving them the strictly medical side of things, or would it be some bot, talking about the experimental/exploring parts?

(I genuinely believe Ratchet would have an aneurysm of some kind at the prospect of it. But let's pretend)

I have to name this verse properly because Tarn isn't here, but it will eventually lead the D.J.D. to Earth. I'll keep the soulmate au tag until I can figure out something.

Ratchet does have an aneurysm because he has set ideas on what is and isn't 'appropriate' from Functionist-held Golden Age Cybertron, but he also carries a lot of guilt from out-surviving almost all his friends, cohorts, and students...

And it's all being dragged into the mud by the Jasper trio, who gives no quarter on crushing his prejudices and fears. Even Raf, his favorite, casually steamrolls over it with the draconian and American mindset of giving no fucks.

Team Prime had harmless thought exercises of what their charges' Cybertronian frames would be like... and none of them were remotely correct!

Because Miko is a Seeker femme, Raf may or may not be a type of Predacon, and Ratchet can't get proper readings on Jack's base-coding, Ratchet sits them all down because they're not sparklings or mechlings with sealed plates but full-framed mecha with total access. He gives them the reproductive talk, especially since Seekers and beastformers go into reproductive heats, but humans don't have that. He's trying to be mindful, and Ratchet is going through the different sexual methods and the variations of parts. Of course, Raf has to interrupt because the draconian mech has two spikes and no receptacle, and he would like to know about any necessary care.

All in all, it's really Ratchet having another fit because his weird humans are now weird Cybertronians of yore/throwbacks. And the ex-humans are taking it rather well, but Jack, Miko, and Raf had literally lifetimes to explore sexuality: as humans, human-hybirds by exploring their heritage as well as alchemical concoctions and very curious lovers.

This, however, did kickstart the path of Ratchet teaching Miko his medical knowledge as she doesn't want the results. She's burning to have the technical skills and knowledge of the processes. Ratchet does pass on his skills to Raf and Jack, but Raf prefers the science as Jack is more fascinated by procuring research material. Miko literally bullzoned her way to become his student. The howling matches they had shook the foundations of the base, but she got her way because she deliberately aimed at his vulnerable parts. ("You'll leave us one day to go back to Cybertron! And you're refusing to tell me how to properly care for myself!?") Ratchet is highly concerned about how voracious Miko's appetite is for that knowledge.

She yearns to become a Tsunade/Unohana terror among them because they have a strong suspicion that if their status is revealed, then they'll become targets. She'll become a Cybertronian Bloodbourne horror if it means she'll never be trapped like what happened to some of her kin.

[greatwyrmgold]

The more I think about it, the less I like the shard-inflicted conflict drive in parahumans lore. First off, though perhaps least imortantly, it's another reason people use to discount the importance of characters' personality traits and agency. In a fandom where Aura Theory was as popular as it was, we really don't need another reason for people to do that.

But I also feel like it undermines the way Wildbow was trying to deconstruct superheroes.

Alright, what am I talking about? There are a few ways you can look at how Wildbow handles classic superhero tropes, even beyond the deconstruction/reconstruction dichotomy. For starters: One thing that strongly influenced Worm's worldbuilding was a desire to explain as many quirks of classic superhero settings as possible.

For instance, why does supertechnology so rarely trickle down from superheroes/villains to affect normal people? Wildbow posits that, however slick this supertechnology might look, on the inside it's a bodged-together mess that only keeps functioning if the tinker keeps actively bodging patches together, which nobody without a superhuman understanding of that technology can practically accomplish.

The conflict drive was probably designed to address one of the obvious questions raised by superhero worlds: Why does (almost) everyone with superpowers use them to either commit or fight crimes? Why don't more people just use them for normal work, or new kinds of "super-work," or just to mess around without any responsibilities? Because an alien in their head told them to.

But I don't think this is necessary. Wildbow provides plenty of capes with motivations for fighting/doing crime that aren't narrowly applicable to that character's situation. Look at the Undersiders: Brian needs the money, Lisa was coerced, Taylor's going through a self-destructive spiral of trying to make a difference the only way she can, Rachel's psyche was so ruined by her trigger event that she couldn't pass a job interview if she tried, and Alec...well, okay, superpowered abusive dads are pretty specific.

Beyond that, he does a passable job (especially in Ward) of establishing systemic motivations for going into crime-fighting. (I mean, beyond systematic failures that encourage large numbers of individual motivations.) The most dramatic, I'd argue, is the implicit duty parahumans have to do something about S-class threats. Parahumans who fail to live up to that expectation, who settle for being rogues with normal jobs, are looked down upon. That's a pretty neat setting detail!

But it's weakened with the conflict drive being the apparently biggest reason so many capes get into conflict. And it doesn't just weaken those other explanations for the same idea, it weakens other aspects of Worm's deconstruction.

I'm going to steal a conclusion from Blastweave:

Worm says, needing superheroes would be terrible.

And I feel like that's very true. Earth Bet is a world that undeniably needs superheroes, needs larger-than-life people with the power to stop threats on an inhuman scale. Wildbow then frames that world in a way that makes it clear what the effects of that would be—both the direct effects of living in a world where Endbringers trash a city every three months, and the consequences of institutions constructed to address those threats.

Needing superheroes would be terrible. But what if we dropped the conflict drive?

The conflict drive is an external factor, stapled onto the superhero formula to make it work better. Its presence implies that it is necessary, that things wouldn't be this bad without such an alien space bat.

The conflict drive weakens anything you could say about superheroes by giving you an out to those conclusions. Oh, there's nothing inherent to the premise of superhumans regularly coming to blows that makes the setting more perilous for the average man, worsens standards of living, or encourages the growth of callous institutions; it's probably just the conflict-creating alien worm in every superhero's head.

The conflict drive doesn't add nothing to Worm, but I don't think it's a net good for the narrative. Imagine another version of Worm which emphasizes human reasons people turn to capedom while dropping the shardsy ones; what is lost?

...

Also, it gives the anti-parahuman bigotry subplot in Ward an unfortunate wrinkle, but "the bigots are actually right about one of the Bad Things they say" is far from the worst problem with that subplot.

[litcityblues]

"Black Panther: Wakanda Forever" --A Review

I've said it before and I've said it again and I've said it about Star Wars and I will continue to say it about Marvel: franchise fatigue is real. I am nowhere near as invested in the MCU as I was when it first got going and I don't think I'm the only one to feel that way.

However: Black Panther might be the MCU's greatest movie and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever is a sequel that was tasked with an impossible challenge (the tragic death of original star Chadwick Boseman) and managed to meet that challenge and not fall into any of the pitfalls you would expect a sequel to fall into.

If there's an underlying theme to this movie, it's probably grief. It hangs over the early portions of the movie when we get dropped into the middle of Shuri (Letitia Wright) desperately trying to save the life of her brother, T'Challa, who is off-screen and dying of an unspecified terminal illness that Shuri is convinced can be cured by the heart-shaped herb, which, unfortunately, was destroyed by Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan) at the end of the first film. She is unsuccessful and T'Challa dies.

Wakanda mourns, but Shuri is especially haunted by her failure and Queen Ramonda (Angela Bassett) assumes the throne. A year later and Wakanda is under pressure from other nations to share their resources and technology and Queen Ramonda implores Shuri to continue her research into the heart-shaped herb, so they can restore the Black Panther to protect Wakanda, but she refuses, saying that the Black Panther is a figure of the past.

The old world powers begin to nibble away at Wakanda's secrets and technology-- but when the CIA and US Navy Seals utilize a vibranium detector to local a potential deposit underwater, they're killed by a group of blue-skinned, water-breathing superhumans led by Namor (Tenoch Huerta Mejia). The CIA for its part believes that Wakanda is responsible. Namor and the Talokans, seeking to preserve the secret of their existence at all costs deliver Wakanda an ultimatum: deliver the scientist who created the vibranium detector or they will attack Wakanda.

Getting to work on the problem, Okoye (Danai Gurira) and Shuri contact Everett K. Ross (Martin Freeman) who reveals that the scientist in question is Riri Williams (Dominique Thorne) who is a student at MIT who has created a suit of armor to rival Tony Stark's (and is getting her own Marvel streaming show at some point in the near future.) The Americans want her, the Talokans want her and the Wakandans want her and the resulting confrontation sees Shuri and Riri kidnapped and taken to Talokan eventually, they flee and Wakanda is attacked and Queen Ramonda drowns saving Riri.

Shuri's grief, already raw enough is an open wound with the death of her mother- but she uses a remnant of the herb that gave Namor's people their abilities to reconstruct the heart-shaped herb. She assumes the mantle of Black Panther- but instead of her mother or her brother on the ancestral plane, she meets Killmonger instead, who urges her to seek revenge. She rallies the Wakandans for one final confrontation with the Talokans and Namor finally yields under her onslaught- though a vision of her mother stops her from killing him outright.

In the end, M'Baku (Winston Duke) challenges the throne, leaving Shuri free to travel to Haiti to conduct burn her funeral role in accordance with her mother's wishes and finally grieve for her brother T'Challa.

Overall: I loved this movie. Not only was it a masterful sequel that handled the death of Chadwick Boseman deftly and just about perfectly, but the whole movie feels like a tribute to him and how he originated the role of T'Challa. Angela Bassett owns this movie and although I have yet to see Everything, Everywhere, All At Once and have nothing against Jamie Lee Curtis- who could very well be equally as awesome in her role, to me, if there was a role that would land the MCU an Oscar, it was her portrayal of Queen Ramonda in this movie. She just owns every scene that she is in. Genuinely fantastic performance from her and if you want to tell me that she got robbed at the Oscars last week, I might be inclined to agree with you.

I think what I love the most about these movies is how they subtly challenge the provincialism of American popular culture. There are other cultural and historical contexts out there in the world. Different nations and peoples and cultures see the world through very different eyes and if the goal of any movie is to ultimately transport the viewer, Ryan Coogler absolutely succeeds at that.

The reaction of the old world powers to Wakanda's emergence on the world stage is perfect. That's exactly what the French and the Americans would do, hands down. No question. The fact that Nakia is living in Haiti is another great touch, given the history and culture of that country. (Which more people should know about, IRL, to be honest.)

I love that the Wakandans still speak Xhosa- but that while they're in Haiti, they speak Haitian French and the Talokans speak Mayan. Love that there's a consistent and unapologetic use of non-English languages in these movies. Other people speak other languages in the world! It's cool!

How does this movie fit into the larger MCU? I'm sure it does, but to be honest, I don't really care how. This was just a great movie, full stop. Whether you want to call it Afro-Futurism or just another Marvel movie is up to you, but I love that these movies present the world to me, the viewer, in an entirely different way. It's refreshing. It's eye-opening and it might even be... important?

Great sequel, an amazing performance by Angela Bassett, I really hope they make at least a trilogy out of these movies because I want to go back to Wakanda. My Grade: **** out of ****

[lol-jackles]

What are your opinions on the different showrunners? (Singer included) I feel like Dabb, Carver and Gamble get way to much hate (especially Dabb) in this fandom while the Kripke era has a ton of problems but people just ignore them and act like it is this perfect pice of television.

Time has a way of sanitizing memories.   In our brain the hippocampus process information from short-term to long-term memory and it takes a few months for the information to be encoded into the temporal lobe and by then we will perceive things differently.  While it's natural for our memories to fade over time; however, according to the reconstructive memory theory, we reconstruct all of our memories, even if we don’t obtain new information. So it's not a surprise that the distant memory of Kripke got sanitized the most and the still recent memory of Dabb gets the most criticism.

Now to answer your question:

Robert Singer is by far the shittest showrunner because he's the money man, not a storyteller.  It was noticeable when he was (temporarily) fired how much the show improved in his absence, but then again anything after the season 10 debacle is going to look like Oscar bait in comparison.

Eric Kripke followed the typical hero’s journey arc where the protagonist change from an unlikely fellow into a savior/hero. This transformation is usually radical, and despite some inner strength that was “always within him”, pretty much all else about the protagonist changes drastically by the end of the story.  I think his season 4 was jump-a-shark by bringing in the fucking angels.  I nearly gave up SPN because I was so bored by the angel SL.

Sera Gamble is by far the best writer for side/supporting character and tried to expand the SPN universe and Sam and Dean’s family tree.  She used the growth arc for both her expanded universe and the Winchesters with varying degree of success and failure.

Jeremy Carver laid the groundwork and foundation for Sam and Dean’s endgames.  He broke down the brothers’ relationship to their core to be laid bare for each other to see so that there’s no question on their choices.  This cemented their codependeny, enabling Dean to no longer fear abandonment by Sam so that he can support Sam without question.  Sam, in turn, grew in confidence.

Andrew Dabb reintroduced Sam and Dean back into the human hunter society, in time for Sam to upgrade his confidence and capability with Dean’s pride and blessing  I have no idea what Bibros have against Dabb because Sam and Dean were on the same page and rarely butted heads.  I can’t entirely blame Dabb for Wayward Sisters since that wasn’t his idea but he was stuck to try to make it happen for the studio.

Anyways, Dabb completed what Carver started, bringing Sam and Dean’s story to a satisfying conclusion and delivered what was promised.

[swanpyart]

The Short Lived Adventures of RAPH and Casey Jones

This is an old pic that was made for a zine that was never published. So I’ll leave it here. It might not ever be finished, but I think the story is decent enough on its own.

Part 1:

Casey was completely fine by herself.

Sure, her parents never really paid her any mind, but she never needed them to; Casey was a fast learner, and was able to cook, clean, and do pretty much anything the adults could do.

“Look!” Ten-year-old Casey held up an English vocabulary test, with an “100%” written in the corner in cursive. “I passed!”

“Honey,” her mother barely looked at her from her seat at her desk, “One hundred percent is the bare minimum. Anything less means you practically failed.”

There was always an empty space in the bleachers whenever Casey had a hockey game. She would cross her arms as she waited for her parents to pick her up and watched as the people in the audience rushed down and hugged their own children after a game, regardless of whether they won or lost. When her parents finally showed up, she sat in the car quietly as they drove.

Casey spent almost everyday after school at her Granny’s while her parents were at work. The old woman’s house was always warm, mostly because she was always baking; cakes, cookies, and especially her famous brownies - made with a special ingredient.

At twelve years old, Casey had failed a math test for the first time, and burst into tears as she walked through her Granny’s front door. “I’m a failure!”

“Sweetie, everyone fails every now and then,” her Granny wiped a tear from Casey’s cheek and got out an antique mixing bowl, “but I can tell you tried really hard. That’s what matters; that you don’t stop trying your best.”

Afterwards, Casey and her Granny spent the afternoon baking brownies, and that was when she was granted the knowledge of the secret ingredient. She swore her secrecy and never told anyone.

Of course, that was a while ago; her grandmother had passed away sometime afterwards. Her parents reacted with more emotion when Casey had shaved her head than when they attended the funeral.

They also seemed only mildly surprised when, at thirteen years old, Casey was accepted into the Foot Clan and never came back home.

There, Casey promised to herself to show the world just how much of a not-failure she really is! Even if she had to work with the most vile Clan in all the world to achieve it and release the Shredder, the ultimate evil, unto the world. She had worked above and beyond to get where she is, and no one could stop her!

At least, that’s what she thought before the Shredder disappeared, and with him, the Clan’s purpose. And way before those strange, overgrown turtles with no sense of honor or discipline showed up and destroyed their chances, time and time again.

Suddenly, the group she had worked with since she was a preteen, and the closest thing she had to any family, were dragged away by outside obligations she never understood.

Foot Brute and Lieutenant were better parents than her own, but, in the end, they were her bosses and coworkers, and no replacement for a family.

Sure, everyone else may have given up, but she would stay committed to the Clan’s ultimate vision, even if she had to use her dear Granny’s recipe for evil. Grandma CJ’s Brownies were an absolute bust, but she had to try something.

Then, she met this weird, giant, smelly rat with a Japanese accent dressed like a teenager who somehow turned out to be the father of those overgrown turtles.

And, as weird as it was, despite not even being human, he sat next to her and heard what she had to say; and, for those few minutes, it was almost like being next to her Granny again.

“Just because you failed doesn’t make you a failure.”

If she had been smarter, maybe she should have listened a bit harder to what he was saying. If she had been smarter, maybe she would have calmed down and talked to the girl that was beating up the Girl Scouts. There were so many opportunities to just talk.

But then the Shredder was restored, and she really thought it would be the return of her Clan’s glory. Even as she looked at the beaten down forms of her previous bosses. Even as she saw Splinter and his family struggling for their lives. Even as she realized winning would mean the end of everything, including her.

There was no more Clan. She was still alone. She was just alone with a giant evil suit of demon armor.

But, now, she wasn’t.

Even after everything, Splinter offered her an invitation into their...

Family.

------------------------------------------------------

He had invited her to the lair a few weeks after the fight with Shredder.

“I’m working at the Foot Shack. After my former clan disbanded, they got bought out by another company, Splinter, sir.” She squeezed the mug of tea in her hands.

“Just ‘Splinter’ is fine,” Splinter had opened a bag of chips, and was reclining in his seat. The turtles were out with April at the arcade, taking a break from repairing the lair. “Where are you staying? Do you have a place to live?”

“Yes, I actually have my own apartment.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. Splinter sighed. “Listen, Casey, I know that it’s probably hard having to... uh, sort things out by yourself-”

“What?! No, I’m fine!” She flapped her hand dismissively. “My life is fantastic! It’s definitely not in complete shambles after losing everything I know.” She blinked, realizing that she overshared, and collected herself. “I’m doing great.”

“I-I never said it was in shambles,” He massaged his temple with two clawed fingers, his beady eyes squinting in frustration. “Look, all I am saying is that, if you ever need help, or if you ever get lonely and just want to talk, I am here. And my sons would probably say the same thing. You’re a Hamato now, at least in spirit.”

Casey’s eyes widened, then she looked down. “Thank you, but I’m a very independent person. I’ll be sure to not bug you unless it’s an emergency.”

Splinter nodded, but he’d dealt with enough children to see that Casey was a bit lonely. Still, he said nothing.

For a good while, Casey stuck to what she said; she didn’t really come by the lair unless she really felt the need to or if they needed an extra set of hands with repairing.

But… occasionally, she found herself asking questions. She found out Michelangelo loved cooking, and somehow he got her to agree to bake her Granny’s brownies together. She realized that Leonardo wasn’t just annoying in battle, but all the time, and that she started getting more and more used to it, even occasionally laughing along. She found out while playing video games with them, that Donnatello was just as vicious as her, and that April was equally as competitive.

And Raph, well… they didn’t talk very much. But he seemed nice every time they spoke.

But she kept her distance. After all, it was better if she didn’t get too attached.

She occasionally goes down to the local hockey rink and plays a few rounds with total strangers, and usually gets kicked out due to a combo of delinquent children and complaining parents.

So, here she is, lying on her bed, staring blankly at her phone, with a half eaten sandwich laying on her chest, and old sweatpants that she’s been wearing for a week because her clothes are in the laundromat. For a ninja-slash-ex-cult-member, her life had fallen into a fairly mundane pattern.

Everything could always be worse. So why did she still feel like such a failure?

And for some reason, Casey found herself at the sewer grate. She didn’t even know why she came here, really.

She was about to turn back when a feminine voice spoke from behind her. “Hey, CJ, what’s up?”

She spun around. It was April.

“I was just coming to visit.” Casey tensed up. She hadn’t expected to run into someone else.

“Oh, me too!” She opened up the grate, and started climbing down the ladder. “You coming or what?”

Casey gulped. She couldn’t back out now.

------------------------------------------------------

Raph paced the lair, quietly groaning as he tapped his chin.

It had been about six months since the fight with Shredder, but another challenge had presented itself; cleaning up the lair after it had been almost completely demolished. Thankfully, with Draxum’s help and Donnie being able to scavenge some old tech that didn’t get destroyed and whip up some devices for reconstruction, the place was finally fixed up after about a month and a half.

Now what? Well, in Leo’s words, it was the time for “rest and relaxation.”

That was pretty easy for the rest of his family to do.

Leo’s entire existence hinged on “rest and relaxation”; Mikey has an assortment of hobbies to keep him busy; Donnie had a tight schedule trying to repair all of his broken inventions; April was trying to adjust to all of the changes at school due to all of New York recovering from the recent Battle Nexus catastrophe; and Splinter, of course, was parked in front of the TV, finally at peace after the Shredder was defeated, and helping himself to milk and cake.

Raph should be relaxing, or at least recovering from all that’s happened to them. The fight with the Shredder was the most stressful and terrifying time of their lives. They lost their Gram-Gram, and even if she was now able to rest with their ancestors and her father, it still stung.

But it’s been such a long time since he’s been in a real fight, and he can tell he’s going a little bit stir-crazy.

Of course, the turtles would spend a lot of time out of the lair; but whenever Raph gets a call on the phone, he finds himself hoping it’s some kind of an emergency, only to turn out to be Todd calling them about the puppy farm, or Leo pestering Senior Hueso with an order for pick-up. It seemed like even their strongest enemies have gone on hiatus as well; there was no word of Big Mama as of late, and every other major bad guy they fought recently seemed to have been exhausted by the Shredder ordeal as well.

Raph’s usual sparring partner, Frankenfoot, is absolutely wonderful, but fighting him wasn’t exactly what Raph had in mind; it was fun, but couldn’t really be compared to the thrill of a real fight.

“Come on, guys,” Raph stood in front of the screen, blocking Leo and Mikey’s view of a Jupiter Jim rerun while Pops was passed out on the couch, snoring, a bag of chips lying open on his stomach. “We’ve been cooped up in the lair for a million years. Who wants to go wreck some bad guys?” He pounded his fist in his opposite hand for emphasis.

“Raph, I can’t see!” Mikey waved his hand in a dismissive way as he said it, and leaned to peek around his older brother and continue watching the screen.

“Ugh, we’ve been over this,” Leo exasperated from his spot on the ground, on his stomach and his head resting on his propped arms. “No crime fighting while we’re on vacation! This is the time to chillax, my guy.”

“How long are we gonna be chillaxing, exactly?” Raph put his hands on his hips, an inquisitive look on his face, even if, deep down, he knew what response he’d get.

“I don’t know, until some other crazy evil mutant guy tries to take over the city? There’s bound to be another one of those eventually.”

“What, so we just wait until some evil mastermind has some evil plan and gets all of New York in their evil clutches? It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Raph tried to summon the energy he usually exudes when he attempts to make a rousing speech, but the rolling eyes and groans from his youngest brothers quickly made its effect futile.

“You know,” Donnie said from the back of the room, the other three having not noticed him walk in, “We did, oh, I don’t know, save all of New York City, take down Big Mama’s Battle Nexus scheme, and, most importantly, defeat our bloodline’s greatest enemy?!”

Raph furrowed his brow, his sharp fang digging into his lower lip.

“We deserve an indefinite break, and I need it, because I actually refuse to do any fighting until I have all my stuff back online. I’d love to fight with only my impeccable mind, but let’s be realistic.” The sandwich in his hand was brought to his face and he swallowed it whole. Donnie knew he had made an excellent point.

“Don’t worry,” Mikey beamed, tucking his arms and legs into his shell, “We’ll get back into the groove of things before you know it!”

“Yeah,” Leo agreed, “Think of it as, like, you know, self-care. Sometimes, you need a break from what you’re used to. Now, can you move out of the way?”

Raph sulked out of his siblings’ view of the screen and sunk into a beanbag, next to the couch their father was snoring in.

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“Hey, guys!” The turtles turn around to see April and... Foot Recruit walk in.

Raph didn’t really know what to think of Foot Recruit, or Casey, as she preferred to be called. Pops insisted that she wasn’t dangerous anymore, but it was hard for him not to be a little wary; I mean, come on, she used to work with the Shredder!

 She’d been over only a handful of times over the past few months, usually to speak with Splinter and Mikey.

“Casey! April!” Mikey stuck his hands out of his shell in joy. He ran over and hugged them both. “It’s been a while.”

“Hey, Apes. And, hi to you too, Casey.” Leo kicked his legs up behind him.

“Above ground has been pretty hectic,” April leaned on Donnie’s shoulder as she spoke, “Everyone has been freaking out about disappearing from New York for a few days. Relaxing on a yacht sure beats coming back to the city in shambles. And finding another job is so hard when everyone’s paranoid we’re gonna all disappear again. Ugh, I wish we did, then I’d get another break!”

“Well, if you want a job, you can help me repair what’s left of my s- I mean, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. The Shredder tore him apart.” Donnie put his hands on his hips and relaxed his posture to cover his slip-up.

“Aw, your cute robot son isn’t repaired yet?” April teased.

As the two bickered while walking towards the lab, Raph looked back at Casey, who was standing by the entrance, visibly tense. 

“Hey, Casey. Um, why are you here?” Raph asked innocently, not realizing how rude he sounded.

“Smooth,” Leo chimed in unhelpfully.

Before he could take it back, Casey spoke, with a glare on her face. “I’m here for the orange one.”

Raph blinked. “Huh?”

“We’re gonna bake brownies!” Mikey clarified, his chest puffed out with pride. “Casey decided that I’m worthy of learning an old family recipe.”

“Yes!” Casey grinned, in a way that was far too menacing for someone talking about brownies. “I decided that, as a new member of your- um…” clan? Group? Committee?

“...Family?” Raph assisted.

“Uh, yes, that,” she turned shy for a few brief seconds, only to return to her previous bravado, pumping her fist in the air, “I will honor you with the knowledge of my grandmother’s most nefarious secret!”

------------------------------------------------------

Raph peeked into the kitchen as Mikey and Casey got to work. Of course, he trusted Mikey; but he had a hunch that Casey might be up to something.

Or maybe the boredom was just making him a bit more paranoid than usual.

Dirty dishes, half-full cups and brownie mix were strewn about the kitchen counter. Whatever this recipe pertained, it must be pretty intense.

“And, now, for the final ingredient. This one was given to me by my grandmother.” Casey pulled a canister of brown powder. She leaned over and whispered close to Mikey’s head. Whatever she was saying, Raph couldn’t hear.

Mikey gasped. “PUMPKIN SPICE?!”

Casey shushed him, then yelled herself. “It’s a secret, remember?!” She poured a generous amount into the mixing bowl full of batter.

The two of them looked so happy baking together, and Raph felt a pit of guilt in his stomach for assuming the worst. He really needed to chill out.

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“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Leo sunk into the bean bag chair, “You’re a fan of Lou Jitsu, right?”

“That is correct.” Casey was sitting stiffly in her seat. Her expressions were intense, like she was about to strangle someone, but Raph had realized pretty quickly that this was just her default.

“You have all of the movies memorized?”

“Of course! I used his guidelines for self improvement in my schemes to take over the world! I mean, that’s not really relevant now, but-”

“And you said you spend almost all of your available money on Lou Jitsu merch?”

“I hide them all so my guests don’t see.”

“And, yet, you’ve never watched a Jupiter Jim film? The Jupiter Jim, his longtime franchise rival and co-star in Jupiter Jim Vs Lou Jitsu?” Leo clutched at his chest, as he held up the DVD case of the movie he was talking about for emphasis.

“Leo,” Raph warned, looking up from his phone, “don’t make her feel bad-”

Leo chuckled. “Oh ho ho, trust me I won’t. I’m definitely putting on a Jupiter Jim Vs. The Galaxy Riders Part 1 and Part 2, and you are going to love it!”

Casey cackled ominously. “You really think this ‘Jupiter Jim-’” She made quotation marks with her fingers for emphasis, “-can measure up to the greatness that is Lou Jitsu? Fine, I guess we’ll just have to see.”

Raph ended up dozing off after the fifth film, and woke up to see Casey and his brother still openly debating whether Lou Jitsu would beat Jupiter Jim if they were both in a desert completely unarmed and at full strength.

------------------------------------------------------

“I’m not scared of much,” Donnie mentions offhandedly one day, while Raph was doing a bicep curl, “but she -”

He points to Casey eating a sandwich like a hyena, while April sat next to her, texting.

“She terrifies me to no end.”

Donnie’s strange relationship with their new friend took Raph a while to comprehend. Then it became clear as day. If anyone could match Casey in moral ambiguity, it was his immediate younger brother.

“I made you a little gift,” the softshell grinned smugly, as he handed Casey what looked like a metal hockey stick.

“Oh, um,” Casey's eyes were wide, and a little watery, and her lips were in a warbly smile. “Thank you… no one’s ever given me something so nice.”

Donnie grinned. “Press the button on the side.”

When she did, the widest end of the hockey stick flipped open like a lighter, and a stream of fire shot out of the tip. Casey’s tears of joy gave way to maniacal laughter. “Those kids at the hockey rink won’t know what hit ‘em!”

Donnie joined her in glee, his eyes and teeth shining menacingly in the light of the flames. Raph watched in mild horror (He was plenty used to Donnie’s antics), at least until the fire alarm sounded and they were all drenched from the sprinklers.

------------------------------------------------------

Another month had passed since Casey started coming around, and Raph seemed like the only one in the lair who hadn’t quite jived with her yet. Sure, his suspicion had pretty much subsided, and he liked her company plenty, but the two of them hadn’t really clicked.

However, he noticed some slight changes over time. Casey’s eyes had bags under them which were more obvious in brighter lights, and sometimes she fell asleep on April’s shoulder (and snored louder than his Pops, somehow). Sometimes, there were hints of sadness on her face, even when she was laughing along with everyone.

Raph didn’t mention it for fear of being rude, but he couldn’t help his concern. After all, if she was upset, she probably wouldn’t mention to him all of the people.

------------------------------------------------------

Hockey wasn’t a sport Raph and his brothers knew much about, but he couldn’t help but get excited as Casey gushed about it, holding tightly onto the treasured tech-hockey stick Donnie had gifted her, wearing a huge grin on her face.

The two humans and four turtles (disguised as humans, of course) were just entering the hockey rink. The hall to the auditorium was cold and echoey.

“I come here every other Friday. The regulars here know my face, and they fear it. It’s ‘cause they know I’ll decimate everyone in my path!” She pumped her fist as she spoke, a sinister grin on her face, before she caught herself and straightened out. “Well, I do until the rink’s supervisors kick me out for making a scene and being mean to children.”

“Don’t sweat it, Casey,” Donnie spoke up, “You’re not the only one whose been kicked out of establishments for scaring kids.”

“Uh huh, exactly!” April agreed a bit too eagerly, and Raph looked back to see the distant, traumatized look in her eyes, and he could tell she was remembering the screams of children and the  sinister laughter of animatronics at a certain pizza joint.

The six teens got to the rink’s auditorium, and put their bags down on the bleachers. There weren’t too many people around.

Mikey whistled. “This place is massive!”

As Raph put on a maroon hoodie and pulled on his skates, Casey rolled onto the rink, over to a huddle of teenagers wearing hockey gear. “Hey!”

One of the teenagers - a boy with messy brown hair covering his eyes - responded. “Oh, you again. Guys, look, it’s that crazy girl from last week.”

“The name is Cassandra Jones!” Casey pulled down the hockey mask she was wearing and held up her stick. “I’m challenging you to another round! Did you really think you’d escape my wrath?!”

The kids started laughing. “You challenge us every time we’re here, and you always lose. What makes today so different?”

Casey laughed. “Well, for one thing, I’ve got my own team now, so you better get ready to go crying to your mommy!”

The group hadn’t stopped laughing, even as Casey walked back to the bleachers. Raph raised a brow. “Uh, what was all of that?”

She looked down. “Those are my enemies,” She clenched her fists, “A group of jerks who manage to beat me every time I come here.”

Raph paused for a second. The look on her face was determined, but had a hint of sadness to it. Raph understood how she felt; wanting to fight, but getting beaten down time and time again. He’d realized a while ago that he didn’t have to do it alone; and neither did she.

Raph put an arm around Casey’s shoulders, and cupped a hand to his mouth, shouting to the teenagers from across the rink. “Hey, knuckleheads! You get ready for a match; you’re not just dealing with Cassandra Jones anymore! you’re dealing with the Mad Dogs, now!”

“Yeah, right!” One of the kids, a girl with a ponytail, shouts back.

He turned to face his brothers and April, who were sitting on the bleachers, their attention already on Raph from his shouting. “Hey, those guys over there are saying we’re gonna lose! What do we say to that?!”

“Oh ho ho, I like this energy!” Leo stood up on the bleachers, joining in the hype. April and Mikey stood up beside him.

“Yeah, you chumps aren’t even at our level!”

“Ya’ll ain’t seen nothing yet!”

Donnie stood up slowly, his arms crossed from the cold. “Yeah, we’ll definitely beat you! But-” He switched to his normal volume, “let’s not make promises we can’t keep.”

Raph dismissed him, and looked at Casey, who was smiling. Together, they were able to beat the Shredder. This would be a piece of cake.

------------------------------------------------------

“Are we done? My mom is here to pick me up,” One of the kids, a girl with pigtails, mentioned as she walked towards her belongings on the bleachers.

Raph was gasping for air from his spot on the cold ground. Hockey was hard. Like, really, really hard.

In hindsight, their loss made sense; this was the turtles and April’s first time playing hockey, and even Casey, who’d been playing since she was a kid, wasn’t able to beat these kids. They really were just that good.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” Leo had fallen in front of the goal, two huge purple bruises visible on his face; one on his forehead, and the other under his eye, popping out from his green skin and red birthmarks.  

Mikey was crying on his knees, while April patted his shell, cussing out one of the kids who she felt pushed him too hard. Even as the kid was walking away. “And another thing-”

Donnie lay flat nearby, looking like a purple stain on the white shiny floor. He was never good at sports, but he tried. Geez, it was almost more embarrassing, with just how hard he tried.

------------------------------------------------------

They found a vending machine, and after Raph gave Leo a cold soda can to hold over his bruises, he walked past Casey, sitting with her head in her hands.

“Hey,” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and looked around to see if the others were watching. April, Mikey and Donnie were going off about losing the match, while Leo sat dejectedly in the corner, nursing his injuries. “Are you alright?”

She looked up, tears in her eyes, and her lower lip wobbling. She hastily rubbed at her face with her sleeve, her eyeliner smearing. “I’m...I’m fine.”

“Is this about us losing?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” She sighed. “It’s a lot of different things- It’s just…”

She trailed off, and Raph sat down next to her on the bleacher. He realized this had definitely been bubbling up for a while. If only he’d talked to her sooner.

“Ugh, all I’ve ever wanted was to be a success. Taking over the world was everything for me- helping the Foot, working for the Shredder, making that whole brownie pyramid-scheme. But now? I don’t have anything. I’ve hit rock bottom. Now, I’m stuck in a stupid rivalry with a bunch of kids in a hockey rink.”

She began to cry again. “What am I going to do? Am I just doomed to be a failure?”

“Just ‘cause you’re not taking over the world doesn’t make you a failure. Most people just stick to regular, everyday stuff and they turn out fine.”

“It’s not just about taking over the world,” Casey sighed. “I don’t have a purpose. No Clan, no commitments, no future. It’s like everything I do is a failure. I’m a failure.”

Raph felt himself start to tear up, too. What she was saying felt way too familiar. “You’re not the only one whose failed.”

“Huh?”

“My Pops told us we were supposed to die in order to protect the Dark Armor. We failed to do that, but we realized how messed up that was, and we decided to do our own thing. And it totally worked out for us, ‘cause we ended up destroying Shred-face once and for all.”

He stood, wiping the small tears from the corners of his eyes. “Think about it. So what that you don’t got a purpose? I get it, but your ‘purpose’ was handed to you by those Foot-faces. What do you wanna do? What do you wanna succeed at?”

Casey sat quietly for a few moments, thinking, and Raph feared that he might have said something hurtful. He was never as savvy with people as Leo or Mikey.

Then she spoke. “I spent all of my life trying to be the best, even if it meant being the biggest bad guy in the world. Now, I want to be the best good guy!”

Her expression softened. “I guess what I really want - I want to stop people who were like me once. I want to stop evil people who want to control others. But...how?”

Raph thought. Then, an idea struck him. “You and me can team up!”

“For what?”

“I was a vigilante for a little while. I mean, I used to be, but I guess since I was already part of a team, and with the whole Shredder thing, I just sort of stopped. But, since my bros are on hiatus, you and me could fight crime undercover!”

Casey was looking at her lap, her head bowed. Raph cleared his throat. “I mean, only if you wanna, it’s just a suggestion-”

“That sounds amazing.” Casey looked up at him in awe, her dark eyes glossy with unshed tears. Suddenly, she stands up, and pumps a fist into the air. “Raph and Casey, the most feared vigilante duo in all of New York!”

“Yeah, Go big or go home!”  Raph pounded his fist into his other hand in excitement.

“Oh me gosh, stop yelling!” The two look behind them to Leo, still holding the can to his face. He turned in the direction of his twin. “Donnie, get me another can! This one’s warm!”

Casey was giving him a big smile, a far cry from her previous mood. Raph smiled back. Finally, he’d be able to go out and fight crime again; and this time, he wouldn’t be at it alone.

[softer-ua]

I have no idea what Bakugou would have done if Izuku died in the sludge Villain accident. They had a lot of strong unresolved emotions, I just can't fully visualize it, the only thing I have clear is him trying to latch onto anger, but that would burn out fast because the Villian was trapped and the heroes did their thing (Winning, which at that point he believed everything was) so I don't know what would he do. Sooo...could you please give us your insight? Please :D

I’d love to give my insight! Thank you for asking!!!🥰

It would depend on which sludge incident, the one where Deku ran to save Katsuki or the one where Deku was on his own? 🤔 I’ve got ideas on both lol

Buckle up this is gonna be a long one, and it’s not a fun ride

For the first I think Katsuki would latch onto anger and be a self hating righteous little monster for the rest of eternity. Because obviously he’s never getting therapy.

If he can blame himself for AM’s retirement and his parents can blame him for getting kidnapped than I have zero doubt the Entire Bakugo family would blame Katsuki for Dekus death. That family loves to victim blame, and Mitsuki would have a field day with chart topping world’s lowest blows like

If Katsuki hadn’t been hanging out in an alley and had gone straight home the villain wouldn’t have got him

If Katsuki hadn’t just been randomly blasting the heros wouldn’t have had to divert their attention to the fire

If Katsuki hadn’t been so weak(what’s the point of that flashy quirk if you can’t even save yourself)

Going with him to make him apologize to Inko (trying to imagine this feels like my brains touching a hot stove, it would be a thousand times more horrible and scarring than being forced to apologize to his Idol and teach for being kidnapped)

If hs Katsuki didn’t have the tools to block out his mother and broke down over a 50 year old man retiring, then poor ms Katsuki doesn’t stand a chance against being forced to bare the blame in someone’s actual death, especially not Dekus. Plus whatever destructive aftermath Katsuki created.

Did you have to blow up the entire alley way??

Katsuki would also never stop blaming those heros, even if the villain was captured they lost what really mattered, Dekus life.

They should have stopped the villain before Deku ever showed up

They should have never let Deku cross the line

They should have saved him

I think his fear of being weak would have been magnified by 10000. And it wouldn’t be a stretch for me to believe that witnessing that kind of hero failure so personally would be his villain origin. But even if it wasn’t, I think 10 months of stewing in grief, rage and self hate at such a young age would leave some very permanent scars

He’d habitually train to the point of self harm(reminder to check in on your fitness bros)

He’d never ever let someone close to him again (he didn’t want Deku close to him in the first place and look at how bad it hurt anyway)

He wouldn’t give a shit about any heros opinion anymore, if it’s not about how he can get stronger than any would be mentor can fuck off

His ego would have taken a massive hit, he’s no longer trying to prove he’s the best

Instead he’s insuring it because he’s never losing anyone again

Even with that in mind I think the sports festival actually would have gone a lot calmer because he no longer gives a shit about showing off, he’s just fighting to test himself and Dekus the one who pushed Todoroki to the point anyone even knew he had a fire side(I always wonder how much longer Aizawa was gonna let that go on for) so he’d except his medal quietly so it’s possible the lov would never have tried to recruit him

I think he’d be a lot more proactive in helping his classmates get stronger

Just not in a cute tsundere way anymore, but in a “if you can’t keep up with me I will keep attempting to murder you until you drop out” way, because B List heros are not allowed to be a thing anymore

Eventually he would grow up to be the top hero and he revels in that victory by hating himself, his job, his coworkers, his family, and everyone and everything else. The best part of his days are the adrenaline highs and that’s not even a happy high, in a bad headspace it just makes you ansty and aggressive, still better than being a hallow husk of resentments

I wouldn’t be surprised if he eventually did kill a fellow pro for not meeting his standards. Depending on what the hero did to earn his ire would shape wether he went on to be the new hero killer or simply stopped being a hero himself in custody or more permanently

Now if the villain had instead been captured after being caught hiding in Dekus flesh suit things would have been very different than the above

Katsuki would definitely be traumatized at this news, so would most of their class and they’d probably do some kind of memorial deal, and over the course of a couple of days Katsuki would slowly descend into madness at watching his class act like they have ever given a single fuck about Deku

Then he would speedball into it, because how dare they grieve over him, non of them deserve to especially not him

He’d be angry for as long as he could, at himself and everyone else, but eventually that’d putter out without anyone stoking the fire, no one else blames his class for feeling sad and no one blames the heros for not existing on every single possible street corner

Maybe he makes it through UA. He’s not as hot head, not as naive, but teens hold grudges like no other, he can be mad at the world a little longer.

Throws himself into the work so he doesn’t have time to think. He’s going to be the best because Deku always believed he would be and if he’s not allowed to be sad than this will be his only way to honor the nerds memory.

But the thing about pain is that it demands to be felt.

Eventually his regrets and grief would come for him, in a year or in ten years doesn’t matter they will eventually claim the time and space they need with interest.

He’d probably meet his regrets first so that he can be mad at himself for a little longer

He should have let Deku be

If he hadn’t held Deku up after class maybe he’d have made it home

His last words play on loop growing distorted and more malicious as the years go on(fun fact about memory ! It’s easily manipulated because each time you remember something you’re actually just remembering the last time you remembered the thing! Basically your brain reconstructs the memory completely each time! Fuck it up once and it’s all down hill)

He regrets not ensuring that he’d have more than his flimsy memories to hold onto Deku with, he never realized he’d want to, never could fully conceive that he’d actually have to.

He should have been kinder

He should have been less of a coward and faced his own insecurities

He should have talked to Deku about so many things

He can’t just focus on what he did and didn’t do forever tho, eventually he’ll have to recognize the hole Deku left behind, his regrets will paint the picture of his grief

Maybe he forgets the exact date of Dekus birthday but he knows it was in the summer, he regrets not going to his last one and grieves never going to a next one.

He regrets not going to the funeral, of course he was sad, he’d been an idiot to think he couldn’t be

He regrets not visiting Dekus grave, and grieves over how long he’s been gone now

He regrets that he had to learn what the value of saving is by having lost, god how he grieves that loss

Without Deku Kaminari never hears that nickname, Kacchan died with Deku. He grieves over never hearing it again

He wonders if Dekus hanging out with Kacchan wherever he is, he wonders if this makes him crazy.

He grieves over Deku dying so young, so alone, so horribly. It gives him nightmares, he can’t imagine the pain of having all his organs crushed down from the inside, and yet he’s some how intimately aware of its possibility. He debates looking for the autopsy results, maybe if he confirms it was asphyxiation and not internal blunt trauma the nightmares will stop. But you don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.

He grieves over the dreams Deku never got to chase, and regrets ever playing a part in taking away the happiness a dream is supposed to have

He grieves over the Deku shaped hole in his life that seemed to grow with him despite only ever getting to know the knobby knees version, he can’t help but think with every achievement and milestone “you should be here”

He doesn’t hate his life, it just feels half lived.

Without Deku pushing his buttons and no god complex shaped alarm bells people were slower to reach out to him.

Without Deku to vouch for his good qualities people were a lot more hesitant to see them.

He still did make friends it’s just a shallower connection and he doesn’t make time for them

He becomes top hero but the victory feels hallow like there should have been more of a fight for it. Maybe he is crazy but it feels like it should have been Deku fighting him for it.

His saves are legendary and numerous, he’s never able to shake the feeling that there’s someone out there who needs him just around the corner

Between the nightmares and the anxiety clocking off gives him he probably gets less sleep than any hero before him, even Aizawa.

It was a short career

[rhmg-au]

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

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

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

TW: Killing, blood, gore, implied torture

———

Ellie was panicking.

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

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

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

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

He was captured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

The day arrived.

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

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

As soon as it was, the stage was set.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then where is he?!”

“He’s…been rewired.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You need any help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And if it’s not?”

“Then we keep searching until we find him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sabine?”

“Mother?”

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry, Ch. 7

<- Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 ->

Summary: I gave myself a stomach ache writing this one 🙃

2,961 words

Thirty-two days. Nine surgeries. Twenty blood transfusions.

Sometimes it seemed like just yesterday when everything was going right—you and Frederick were so happy together, his books were selling, your career was flourishing, and he had just asked you to marry him. Sometimes, it felt like a lifetime ago. A state of being so foreign, you wondered if it had even been real, or if you were remembering someone else’s life.

Seasons turned. Cherry blossoms were starting to bloom in the parks around Maryland, and each gust of cool wind carried with it their sweet pink fragrance. The spring air vibrated and sang with life renewed. But where you were headed, the air was stagnant, beige, and sterile.

As the automatic sliding glass doors drew you into the hospital, away from the sun, a piece of your heart withered like a flower. It sank deeper when you considered how the unhappy hours you whiled away in those sterile halls were nothing compared to what Frederick had to endure. He didn’t have the luxury of being able to leave.

Physically, he was beginning to show signs of real improvement. The pneumonia had completely cleared up, and he was starting to receive permanent transplants from the cutting-edge, lab-grown skin created from his own cells. Most of his body was still wrapped up in gauze, but a few places had only received second-degree burns, and those patches were almost back to normal. For the first time since the attack, his odds of not dying were higher than his odds of dying.

Mentally was a different story. His moods grew progressively more sour. With none of his true nemeses at hand to take out his bitterness on, that burden fell upon his nurses, doctors, and upon you—and it was beginning to weigh heavily. At first you didn’t want to see the rift that was forming, even as he cut your visiting hours short in an angry huff, and had fewer and fewer kind words for you. You shoved every fear and frustration into a box at the back of your mind so you could keep smiling. He was just in pain, you kept telling yourself. He just needed time.

You held onto the hope that as he got better, your relationship would return to what it had been before. But he was getting better, and the rift grew wider.

“We’ll still want to wait at least six months to do the procedure, until your infection risk has dropped to baseline levels for a healthy adult, but we’re putting you on the transplant waiting list now,” the doctor explained. She was one of his regular surgeons who had been with him since day one. She wore a white lab coat over blue scrubs, and hid behind a clipboard as she spoke. You liked the that she needed to use the file as a shield—it made her relatable. Always friendly, and clearly a skilled surgeon, but uncomfortable with the heavy emotional talking to patients, especially to Dr. Frederick Chilton, who was always in a bad mood, and always ready with a scathing remark.

But today he had nothing to say. No critique on the hospital’s competence. No casual observations with hidden barbs. Just a silent nod of acknowledgment before turning his head to gaze out the window at the fresh spring flowers, framed by the sea of fake ones you had bought.

Francis Dolarhyde, the Red Dragon, had bitten Frederick’s mouth with such extreme ferocity there was not enough connective muscle left to reconstruct new lips from Frederick’s own tissue. The only option for him to look normal again would be a face transplant—donated facial muscle, skin, and hair from a cadaver—although the doctor explained that the procedure was risky. After taking the transplant, Frederick would be put on immunosurpressant drugs for the rest of his life to prevent rejection, which meant every flu season, or even a coworker with a cold, could turn deadly without careful precaution. But to Frederick, it was worth the risk. He couldn’t bear spending his life being stared at. He couldn’t even stand you looking at the black hole that was his face.

Yet what the doctor explained about the procedure added weight after weight to Frederick’s chest until he felt crushed by despair.

The donated tissue had to be a very close match, or his antibodies would reject the new lips. Unlike receiving a heart or a kidney, his new skin had to be an aesthetic match as well. It could not be from too old a donor, or the skin would lack the proper elasticity. And, unfortunately, most organ donors were not comfortable donating external organs—it ruins the open-casket wake.

So, he could be waiting on a match for a very long time.

You thanked the clipboard-wielding doctor when Frederick remained sulking, not bothering to look up as she left. He adjusted himself slightly to follow a flash of movement—a bird—out the window, and winced as it tugged his unyielding scar tissue. Something tore under his armpit, but he didn’t yelp in pain—he was used to this level of it by now—but his eyes watered.

“At least you can sit up a little bit now. That’s great, isn’t it?” you said in an attempt to cheer him up.

He scoffed, and made no immediate reply.

Years, was all he kept thinking. It could take up to three years to find a match, possibly longer, the doctor said.

“Up to three years or longer,” he growled sarcastically. “She does realize that means nothing? It means any time, or never.”

“I know...”

“But thank god at least I can sit,” he spat bitterly. “A little.”

You were taken aback by his sharp rebuke and fell silent, a cavernous gulf between you though you sat right beside his bed. As you recovered from the sting, however, his words made you smile. He had always been churlish, but recently all of the spirit had been eroded away from his petty attitudes, leaving him defeated and mean. It was nice to hear his churlishness take on a spark of sarcastic sass.

“Don’t lose hope, darling,” you said in an overly-sweet patronizing cadence. “One day you’ll have enough movement back to flip her off.”

He paused, eyes flicking over to you curiously. You had been downtrodden for weeks, too, and he hadn’t expected a joke. He chuckled appreciatively. You wished the good moments lasted longer these days.

It wasn’t as though his life had ended, even if his full cosmetic recovery would take a little longer than he hoped, and even if he was bedridden for several more months. It was that sharp mind and wit that made you fall in love with him, and he still had that. He could keep you entertained for hours discussing some arcane piece of trivia or sharing lurid gossip. Since he was cut off from his normal sources of scuttlebutt, you kept him updated on all the latest rumors you’d learned over dinner with Jack Crawford—about the shitstorm he’d brought down on himself at the FBI when Will Graham went rogue, how Alana and her wife fled the country (but you heard they might be in Cuba), Freddie Lounds being sued again. He always enjoyed hearing about other people’s misfortunes, but today it just made him jealous that you’d been spending time with Jack.

“You have both recently lost a spouse. What comfort you must take in each other,” he insinuated.

“I haven’t lost you, Frederick.”

You went into that sentence thinking you were convincing him that you loved him, but as it closed, you realized you were desperate to convince yourself he wasn’t gone. The more you tried to hold him close, the more you felt him pulling away, and felt a creeping dread that even if he got better, you would lose him. Everything you tried to say to reassure him only made him feel worse, and you wondered if it was your fault. Someone more capable, more empathetic, would know the right things to say. You were a failure. He deserved more.

His professional life, too, hadn’t ended. His injury would barely be a bump in the road to his writing career if he wasn’t so stubborn and prideful. The publisher offered to send a ghostwriter to finish The Dragon Slayer, for which they greedily anticipated a significant boost in sales, considering the author’s headline-making personal involvement in the Red Dragon’s end. Frederick, however, refused to be interviewed by “some insipid amateur.” He claimed they would not understand the nuances of psychology required, and stood firm on the grounds of “artistic integrity,” but the truth was, he did not want anybody else to see him.

His face had not made it into the papers, despite several attempts by Freddie Lounds to sneak into the hospital with a hidden camera, and he did not want any more of the world than absolutely necessary to know the extent of what the Dragon had done to him. He did not want to see the shock in the writer’s eyes at seeing his disgusting lipless teeth. He did not want a stranger to see him inevitably start drooling the longer he spoke—and he hated repeating himself to people who could not understand his impaired diction.

No. Publishing The Dragon Slayer would have to wait, though the possibility of another author beating him to the punch bothered him nearly as much as his missing lips. After an entire month recuperating, he thought he would at least be able to type again, but he could barely move his gauze-mittened fingers.

The world had not forgotten him, evidenced by the occasional fan-mail the publisher forwarded to him. You would bring them in and read them—a lot of get-well-soons, and entreaties to hear his side of the Francis Dolarhyde story. A lot of them were from professionals and students in the psychiatric field, pointing out errors or suggesting contradictory theories. Those were the most fun to read, because Frederick would come alive with indignation, debating with the letter as if its sender could hear him, sometimes making you send a response, seething with superiority as he dictated.

In those brief moments, it was like having the old Frederick back. Then a nurse would come in and need to run a test, or feed him, or something else that embarrassed him back into his shell of anger. Or he would grow too animated and rip one of his grafts, and his zeal for argument would end precipitously with a scream, and a surgeon.

As you shuffled a handful of addressed envelopes and started reading through the latest batch of strangers wishing him a healthy recovery, you were struck by a thought.

“Why haven’t I met your family?”

The wind caught in his throat. His scabbed-over nostrils flared before he answered, “I doubt that is what the letter reads.”

“They never visit, even when… even when you could have died. My parents even flew in that first week, when they heard. They helped me with the flowers. Why do your fans send more condolences than your family?”

Gritting ones teeth does not come easily when ones teeth are constantly bared by default, but Frederick grit his teeth. “My mother is old. She can hardly be expected to travel.”

A plausible answer, but not the full story. His discomfort with the subject only spurred your curiosity. All the time you’d been together, you had simply accepted Frederick as an individual, with no need for a childhood backstory or a group of others sharing his features and last name to complete him. You’d gathered, in snippets, that their relationship was not the best, and were satisfied to leave it alone. But he nearly died. The nurse who asked you about his next of kin looked so confused when you had no one you could contact, and it made you feel foolish for never having asked.

“It’s just, we’re going to be married.”

“So?” he said, a hard, mocking edge to his voice.

“So, if I’m going to be part of your family, isn’t it weird that I’ve never met them?”

Instead of answering directly, he snarled, “Look somewhere else.”

“I wasn’t staring!”

“Look. Somewhere. Else.”

You huffed, and sat back in your uncomfortable plastic chair whose unpadded seat bruised your butt after countless hours, crossing your arms. The box full of anger was overstuffed. You shoved its contents down like clothing in a suitcase to squeeze one more sting of hurt inside, but it began to overflow. “I swear I don’t stare at your face any more than I used to,” you muttered aloud what was supposed to remain a thought, “but now every interaction needs to be a carefully calculated balance between not looking at you enough to feel gawked at, and not not-looking enough to make you feel like I’m averting my eyes from your horrible face.” At the word “horrible,” you wiggled your fingers and wavered your voice the way the vampire running a children’s haunted house would say the word “spooky.”

“I am sorry my suffering is so inconvenient for you,” he said in clipped, cold syllables, and you knew you’d pushed him too far.

“I’m just saying, you know I don’t care about your face. You’re acting the same way as when you got shot, and you got over that. You know I still think you’re beautiful. Can’t you give me some credit and just stop freaking out?”

Being stuck in a hospital bed with limited range of motion, he had few resources with which to express anger, but his chest rose and fell and his breath hissed like steam through his nose. “You...” he seethed. “You never care about the pain I suffer, do you? You, in your fantasy world where you accept my injuries and make it all better—you have no idea what it is like to be violated. To have your body ripped apart! It is not a thing one ‘gets over.’ Beautiful? That is rich coming from one who would not know how to tuck in a shirt without my guidance. It must be lovely in whatever quaint children’s storybook your mind inhabits, but in the real world, appearance matters. It matters to me. Your fetish does not stop every sane individual from seeing ugliness. You believe I should be delighted to have a partner who calls ugliness beauty and trivializes my grief? I should have had you analyzed years ago—my judgment was compromised by my relationship with you. I could not see. Your attachment increases with my physical deterioration. You prefer me broken.”

“That… that isn’t true! How dare—”

“You could barely tolerate me before Abel Gideon took my kidney. I was shot in the face and suddenly you professed your love. What shall it be this time? Ah, yes—marriage. You must be elated.” He rolled the words over his tongue in that distinctively upper-class way that was almost musical, yet bone-cuttingly brutal.

“Stop. This had nothing to do with it—you proposed to me!”

His eyes had been flashing with energy behind the bandages as you argued, but all the anger in them vanished like a message written in steam on a bathroom mirror. They took on a dull, blank glaze.

“Then I take it back,” he said. You wished you believed he meant the accusation. His head shifted toward you, but his dull stare seemed to look right through you to the door. “The engagement is over.”

Your throat dried up. “You don’t mean that,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I will not be with one who gains pleasure from my mutilation. Get out of my room. There are some amputees over in the rehabilitation ward; go explore your fetishes elsewhere.”

He couldn’t be serious, and yet there was no hint of sarcasm or hyperbole in his flat tone. He meant it. You were surprised to find that you weren’t sad. Your hands began trembling uncontrollably, the tiny convulsions working their way from your extremities to your shoulders, tightly clenching in your gut, but it wasn’t sadness. The overfilled box tore open at the seams, exploding its pressurized contents, and weeks of frustration shattered against the walls and cascaded out over the floor.

“Fine!” you stood up from the hated plastic chair so sharply it scraped across the laminate floor and tipped over backward. “I can’t put up with a second more of this, anyway! I can’t keep walking on eggshells waiting for you to snap—if this is the way it’s going to be from now on, then marrying you would be a nightmare.”

If you had seen him flinch as if your words had physically wounded him, then you might have stopped shouting. A surge of pity might have overwhelmed you, and you might have broken down sobbing. He might not have been able to go through with it, then. Seeing you blubbering with heavy, hot tears rolling down your face, he might have said he was sorry, like he wished he could have said if only he were not so much like his father.

But you were too angry to look at him, and you didn’t see him flinch.

So a moment later when your back was in the doorway, instead of I’m sorry, he said, “Keep the ring. Sell it, and get a new apartment. Do not come back.”

“Fuck you!”

[skyeofloxlay]

Duskwood - thoughts, observations and summaries. (DW-TOS) Part 2!

And I came back with the second part!

82 - Jessy sends us a message asking if we send messages to Hacker, if we answer yes, she replies that he is scary. If we say "I happen to like him, actually." Jessy says, "I bet you're the only person in the world who likes this guy. But don't get me wrong, I don't think he's behind the kidnapping. He wouldn't take such chances talking to us."

83 - Jessy then comments that she had a similar conversation with the others, but it was about the MC. If we say, "If I were you, you wouldn't trust me," Jessy replies, "But I trust you. If others knew that I sent you a message, they would be irritated with me. Anyway, I think it's better if you don't tell him too much "

84 - Another message in spy mode, this time between Thomas and Dan. Thomas contacted Dan, and Dan asked where Thomas was. Thomas replies, "You know what? It doesn't matter." Dan then asks what was going on, and then Thomas responds by asking if Dan was still part of the deal.

85 - Jake sends us a message, asking what it was all about (referring to the conversation between Dan and Thomas). We can say that no matter what it is, it seems to be highly suspicious and Jake agrees. He then comments, "Maybe we can find out together what that means. I found it more than strange that Thomas disappeared after the news of the body appeared."

If we say "Wait, how did you find this out? I didn't tell you about it" Jake replies that he is not going to put all his cards on the table for us. At least not for now.

86 - We then started seeing a message notification between Dan and a guy named Poke. Poke contacted Dan to be sure, and also said that Dan knew the time and place. Dan then tries to make some price offers, I think. In the end Poke says he was sorry for the girl.

87 - We talk to Jake again, and he asks us what we thought all that meant. And we can guess that Dan is buying something from Poke, and that he's asking for good money for that thing. Jake says he thinks the same thing as us, and he praises us by saying "good job". Jake also comments that the thing that is purchased is highly illegal, as Dan made sure not to mention the thing.

88 - Telling Jake that we should get to the bottom of this, Jake replies that he was going to get Poke's number. If we say "And what should I say?" Jake says "I didn't say the plan was perfect ... Can't you try to get this person involved in a conversation? Say you got a friend's number. Maybe you can get somewhere with this or not. If it doesn't work out, you can say you sent the number to the wrong number. Doesn't that sound convincing? " He then asks for time to find out the number.

89 - Jake contacts us, and says he managed to reconstruct a part of the image (of the medical prescription) And he says that we should take a look at it.

90 - Jake wonders why Hannah put a prescription on the cloud. For he could not understand what it would take a person to carry this in the cloud.

91 - So Jake says it would be better to search the almighty internet for what SSRI means. (SSRI was what we could see in the prescription)

92 - In this part we can place a bet with Jake to see who finds out the fastest =]

93 - We found that SSRI is a medication to treat depression.

94 - If we ask Jake if he knew that Hannah is suffering from depression, he says he doesn't know, so he says it didn't make sense and finally says he would talk to us later.

95 - We can then ask Jake if he was okay, he replies that he was okay, and then we can ask if we did something wrong, then he says "No, of course not. Let's talk later. I have to do some research" and then he goes off.

96 - We decrypt a file, this time it was a written file.

97 - Cleo sends us a message saying she was in front of Hannah's apartment, if she asks her what for, she says she went there at random, and says "But I think it wouldn't hurt to take a look".

98 - Cleo then tells us that it really wasn't spontaneous, and that she had thought about it asking herself "Would Hannah do the same for me? And I'm sure she would. She would have done it on the first day, as soon as knew. " We can then tell Cleo that we would like to have a best friend just like her.

99 - Cleo says to us "If it makes you feel better, I'm not invading. I know where her emergency key is hidden." And before entering, Cleo decides to call us and says "As you know, two heads are better than one"

100 - On the call, Cleo walks around the apartment and goes to the second floor, when she hears someone's footsteps, and when that mysterious person opens the door, we can't see who it is because the call hangs and then falls off. (If I'm not mistaken, was that the end of chapter 2? Or was it 3? Wait ... it was the end of chapter 2)

101 - So, now in chapter 3, Cleo, apparently a few minutes after the call dropped, she sends a message. She then tells us that Thomas was at the door. Cleo says she is still in the apartment with Thomas and says she would speak to us later.

102 - Jessy sends us a photo of a newspaper article reporting the body that was found. She was angry because the article was too short about something that should be given more attention, but apparently Duskwood likes to ignore the disasters that occur around the city.

103 - We returned to the group where all the guys are and Thomas finally appears and comments that it was the police and tells the group that the body found was not Hannah's. But we still don't know whose body it was (we only discovered this more recently in chapter 7, but I'll leave that to comment on when I get there).

104 - If we ask Thomas if he was at the police station all this time, and soon after he came to tell the group that the body was not Hannah's. He replies that before that, he was crying like a baby after we told him about the body, and then he went to the police. And then he asks us if we are happy now. After we answer him, Thomas says nothing and goes offline. 

105 - Jake sends us a message, and he says he decided to read the conversation between MC and Cleo. We can tell him that this no longer surprises us, but then he apologizes and comments that after our phone call went down, he was a little worried. We can ask him "Well, what do you want me to say?" and he replies "I know it's not comfortable for you. But I would like you to look at it from my point of view and understand why I am doing this." We can ask him "So is it important how I feel about you ?!" Jake replies, yes, he cares what we think about him. We can tell him that we also care about what he thinks about us. (Then he replies with a smile :) )

106 - Jake asks us why we thought would take Thomas to Hannah's apartment. We can guess that Thomas was trying to recover something there. Jake says it is a very logical assumption, but to be honest he was not sure, and it was better to wait because he was sure that Cleo would tell what had happened. 

If we tell Jake that we think something wasn’t right, he responds "Do you think? I didn’t notice anything.", We can answer him because we think something was wrong, saying that Cleo wanted to say something, because of Thomas . We then found out that Jake has problems deciphering emotions through text messages, and he says that MC managing to do that is of utmost importance.

We can then tell Jake that we have never heard of anyone who has had this problem before, and Jake replies, "There are few people who can openly admit their faults. I usually find it very difficult to do. "By thanking him for telling us something like that (you know, something so personal, admitting your failure? I think it takes a lot of courage and trust with the person you are talking to. Who likes to admit their faults openly to other people? Especially to those you hardly know?) 

Jake says we could talk about it in more detail again in another moment, if we wanted to know more. But now there were more important things to talk about.

107 - We then started talking about what we found in Hannah’s cloud (That written note. Unfortunately I don’t have a printout of the note, so I’ll describe the note in other post) Jake tells us that he read it several times and couldn't understand what it meant. We can then share with him our thoughts on the note, we can say that Hannah wrote that note because she was trying to process something, because the text was very emotional. Jake tells us that MC is incredibly observant.

108 - If we ask Jake if he never thought Hannah's behavior was strange, Jake says no. Asking him "But you know Hannah personally, right?", He replies "I don't think I can say I do, no", "Does Hannah even know you?" Jake just says that he will one day tell everything, when the time is right.

109 - Asking him about Poke's number, Jake replies that he needs more time to find out and asks if we still remembered what we were going to tell him. 

110 - When commenting on Hannah's antidepressant medicine, Jake says he had no idea that she suffered from depression. However, he says there is no need to worry about this for the investigation, as it would not have hurt herself, and that it was not even under discussion.

111 - Jake then says that until now we already knew the most important things, and then we can comment on the body, and ask if Jake was trying to avoid this issue. He says no, at least not intentionally. He also says he already knew it couldn't be Hannah's body and asks us if we had discovered anything in the meantime.

112 - It is then that we can comment on the legend of Duskwood, the legend of the mwaf. Jake asks if we want to talk about it, but then we can answer him "When the time is right". Jake says "Are you making fun of me now?" and we can answer "It doesn't look so good, does it?", Jake then admits that it made him laugh, and that he deserved it because he always made us wait to know things.

113 - But even so we give Jake a chance and we tell what we found, commenting that it is about an old legend, about such a man without a face, that he goes after people who have committed terrible sins, and drags them to the forest, and they say Hannah is one of their victims. Jake says he understood, but that he generally doesn't have much hope about legends and ghost stories. He also says that we weren't supposed to misinterpret him, but he was still going to check, but that he was going to find out Poke's number first.

114 - We talk again with Jessy and Richy about the legend of the mwaf, and about the fact that Alfie saw Hannah being dragged through the forest. Richy gives his opinion that Alfie, like him, was born in Duskwood, so he must have heard about the man without a face several times, and having heard about Hannah's disappearance, it's easy to mix reality with imaginary stories.

115 - If we say that we do not believe that this is what happened, Jessy says that she agrees and that the mwaf is a real clue and that we should go further, whether or not Richy was with him, since he did not believe in those things. In the end Richy decides to stay so things won't get out of hand

116 - As the conversation ends, Richy realizes that he hasn't added us yet.

117 - Richy asks us a favor, asking us not to instigate Jessy too much with all this mwaf history. He also comments that Jessy is the type of person who WANTS to see the monster, that he is real. We can then tell Richy that we are only after facts, that is, behind clues, not monsters, and that makes Richy feel more relieved. We can also ask if Richy is in love for Jessy, he is embarrassed and asks us why we think so. When we say it's just a feeling, he is speechless and denies it, but then asks "But what if I liked her?" , we can say that we don't care about that and he replies "That's good. As long as you don't think I'm in love with her." (he makes a spelling mistake, but I don't know what it would be like in English) When we correct him, Richy says that we pay a lot of attention to details and says that he will talk to the MC later.

118 - We decrypt another written file and send it to Jake. After he took a look he said that this note was completely different from the other. We can say why we found that note different by saying that "It's easier to understand" Jake agrees and adds that the first note was mysterious, almost enigmatic, while the second note seemed to be talking about an experience. And we can say "A diary?" Jake agrees and says that our discovery was really important, and he praises us saying that we did a good job. 

119 - Jake says he wants to try to do something new with us, taking notes on some of the most important key points, and after he and we made our conclusions, we would compare. When we say that we think this is a good idea, he replies that he is happy we found it.

When we finish our notes, Jake compares them, and depending on what you answered, Jake can tell you that surprisingly our notes are the same as his (again, I don't have a print of the text, so when I get to that part of the game I will do some prints and comment on it.)

120 - Jake begins to summarize all the clues that have been found. We know that Hannah visited a family, and in that family there was a woman named Iris, Hannah was accompanied by an unidentified man, and his support meant a lot to her. They were talking about something that Hannah already seemed to know, she hoped to find out more and Hannah was feeling very guilty about this family. In addition, it is commented at the end of the note on "The emerald eyes".

121 - We can guess that this note is related to Hannah's disappearance. Jake comments that this may be the way to find out Hannah's exact steps in the days before she disappeared. 

122 - Jake then ends (or tries) the conversation by saying "Very well. I think that's it for now. Or is there anything else we should talk about?" And at that point (if you have premiums) you can ask Jake "Tell me your name". He replies "My name? Why would you care about my name?" And then we can say to him "Because I like you." "Please" and then he finally reveals to us that his name is Jake. So we can say "Hello, Jake" and he replies with "Hello, MC" "I'm getting careless. This is not good" and we can ask him if he doesn't feel relieved and Jake says "Yes, strangely. At the same time, it's dangerous to open up to you. There's a lot at stake for me." we can tell Jake that he can trust us, and he replies "I want to trust you" Then right after he asks us "So now I would like to find out more about you", When we ask what he would like to know about us, he responds by asking if we are dating someone. If we say "No" and ask him why he would like to know, he replies "I don't know. I ..." when we say "Yes?", He says "I think you're fascinating" (Aww Jake, you know how to conquer me, don't you? Did I just think that this would be something Sherlock Holmes would say if he were in love? Just me? Ok .-.)

and of course, we can answer him saying that we also find him fascinating =]

Quickly Jake says he better go before he blushes, and then he says he'll talk to us later.

123 - Richy sends a message to the group saying that something is now on a date, which will be on Sunday at 2 pm, we found out shortly after he was referring to the search he would have in the forest to try to find Hannah, that the women of church at Duskwood are organizing, Miranda, Cleo’s mother, she’s the one who’s leading the women’s group. 

124 - Cleo sends us a message and says that Thomas is hiding something. Cleo says he was shocked to see her there. She asked him why Thomas was there at Hannah's apartment, he replied that he was at the police station and was told that the body was not Hannah's, and then he said he went to the apartment to find clues, because now the time was even more essential than before.

125 - Cleo realized that she hadn't heard Thomas use the key when he entered. She asked him how he got in and Thomas smiled and said it was clear that he had the key, and even made a kind of joke about whether Cleo didn't remember that he was Hannah's boyfriend.

126 - Cleo comments that Hannah and Thomas had fought a few weeks before she disappeared, and that he had returned the key to Hannah.

127 - Thomas took something from the apartment.

128 - After Cleo talks to us, she will talk to Richy, she said that when she was running she heard voices and jumped over the junkyard fence. Richy doesn't seem to care about that, and says that if Cleo wanted to reward him, she would just make the famous pyramid cake. And Cleo was already doing that.

129 - Richy says it was his voices arguing with Paul (Richy's dad) and then he says "She got lost outside again because he wasn't paying attention." (Who is "she" that Richy commented on? Was it his mother?)

130 - Jessy sends a message to the group of legends saying that she had an idea, that she was sure that in the library there was a book that told about mwaf.

131 - Jake sends us a message saying he got Poke's number. And we found out that we have to call Poke because he has a private account, luckily the connection fails so Poke is obliged to send a message to us.

132 - We found out that Poke is a keyring. And then it all makes sense, Dan bought a key from Poke so Thomas could get into Hannah's apartment.

133 - We talk about it to Jake and then he asks if we had talked to Cleo. We can comment that Thomas took something from the apartment, Jake asked if we knew what he had taken, of course we don't know, but we can guess that he took something that linked him to the kidnapping.

134 - We can also comment that Thomas lied to Cleo about the key.

135 - And we can tell that Hannah and Thomas had a fight. Jake is incredulous that Cleo has known this for so long and only tells it now.

136 - If we ask Jake what he thinks of all that, he replies that we have enough reason to be careful with Thomas. However, we should not yet feel safe with others.

137 - We asked Jake what we (MC) should do now. He responds to act normally around Thomas, as if we don't know any of this. Jake also says that we should find out about Thomas's side.

138 - Jessy went to the library, but the book had already been borrowed, and on top of that it was not known who was with it, and whoever had the book with it was already 4 days late to deliver.

139 - We see a conversation between Phil and Jessy. He said he was disappointed that Dan hadn't shown up on the first day of work.

140 - Apparently Cleo went to snoop around the bar (she had already commented that she would go to the bar to try to find new information, but she didn't tell us when she went.)

141 - We heard that Cleo asked Phil some questions about Hannah, and he was very rude. Saying that Hannah was flirting with someone, and that it was just a matter of time before she messed with the wrong guy.

142 - Richy asks if he should talk to Phil, if we say yes he will talk to him after he leaves work.

143 - Dan talks to Jessy, apologizing for what he had done, he said he had forgotten. Then he invites her to a date at the Black Swan.

144 - We found a photo of a raven carved in a tree in the forest.

145 - Jake starts writing, but then gives up, so we can talk about what it was, that it was the crow sign. Jake asked if this had anything to do with the legend we had mentioned earlier.

146 - Jake says he's going to leave it to us, and we can say "Because you don't believe that, right?", And then he says "No, because I trust you. I would suggest showing the photo to your friends."

Okay, I know, it doesn't have as many topics as the other, but I think I've reached the limit for now, and I have to do a few things now, so I don't have any more time to write =/

But I hope you like it and that it helps you in some way. See you in the next part! :)

(Well, 633 prints have been transcribed so far, with only 1677 left to write xP)

(Sorry if it have something confusing or has English errors ; -;)

Part one if you haven't seen it yet! DW-TOS1 

Ask box open!

[chdatz9000]

The Past Haunts

Aka Depression’s a Bitch

Korra has been feeling depressed lately but she tries to hide it from Asami, until she can't.

words: 2921

The two girls were lounging in one of the many family rooms in their mansion home, silently enjoying each other’s presence as they rested upon each other. Asami was just relaxing with not much on her mind, while Korra was lost in her own thoughts. Something was off and it was bothering her more and more as the days progressed. Things have been finally slowing down; Republic City had been repaired, Future Industries had steadied out their production rates and was no longer being repurposed for city reconstruction, and finally there hadn't been any major incidents in the world that demanded the Avatar’s attention. Even with their life entering a time of tranquility, Korra’s mind treaded on thin ice as her gaze was unfocused.

Asami loved listening to Korra’s breathing, she found it ever so relaxing, so it didn’t take long for her to notice that sometimes Korra would stop breathing for a few seconds before returning to her normal pattern. She wasn’t really concerned about it until it was happening more frequently, and sometimes even longer.

“Korra?” Asami broke the silence of the room, worried about her fiance. The words seemed to be absorbed into the walls of the mansion as there wasn’t any answer back, Korra too much inside her own head. Her thoughts weren’t even cohesive, stretched in many different directions causing her to slightly...panic? Is this what this is? She began to think of older adversaries that she had to fight in the past, but why? They’ve all been dealt with, taken care of, why would any of this bother her now, years removed? She had a new home, a new life, a life of returning peace and a very bright future with the love of her life. Wouldn’t this be the thing she should focus on today? What is today? How long has it been since she’s left the city? The kingdom? How long has it been since she’s been to the Southern Water Tribe, her home? Wait, this was her home...wasn’t it? 

“Korra?” Asami asked again, this time succeeded in getting Korra’s attention. Korra, startled, quickly snapped her attention to Asami.

“Hm? What’s up?” She tried responding cheerfully, hoping that would hide her internal chaos. 

“Are you ok? You stopped breathing for a bit.” Asami moved so she could look into Korra’s eyes and also so she could grab hold of Korra’s hand to squeeze it.

“Yeah! I was just thinking…” Korra lingered on following up her answer, hoping something would come to mind to not make Asami worry. But when Asami leaned in closer to her, she knew she ran out of time to find a lie. “...Well, about how I’m kinda homesick. I mean, with being away from the Tribe for so long.” It was a half truth, perhaps it would be enough.

“Oh, Korra.” Asami leaned in to kiss Korra’s temple and squeezed her hand tighter. “I’m sorry we haven’t had an opportunity to go back in such a long time, I know it’s been rough on you.” She gave Korra a quick kiss on the lips, which made Korra’s heart flutter, she had a knack for doing that. Asami sat up to stretch a bit before going back to find her spot on top of Korra, but before she did she noticed that it was snowing. “Korra, look.”

Snow. Waterbending. South Pole. Southern Water Tribe. 

“It looks so pretty!” Asami exclaimed, there was a slight pause before she continued. “Hey, I have an idea.”

Korra perked up, almost lost herself in her mind again, “What is it?” She was now able to give Asami her full attention.

“Get dressed. We’re going outside! We can’t go to the South Pole, but we can definitely get you some similar sights of being there!”

Korra couldn't stop herself from giggling, this was really sweet of her and yet so simple and cute. “Ok, if that’s what you want to do.”

“Of course it’s what I want to do! If it’ll make you feel any better, I want to do it. And besides…” she started to walk out of the room to get her jacket, “...it’s warmer here.” She finished with a cheeky grin.

“Pfff. Don’t worry though, I’ll keep you warm too.” 

“I was counting on it.”

***

The two found a good spot on the outskirts of the property, facing the mountains and a good ways away from any road or light source they could. Asami, having spare dry wood,  placed logs in a small pit that Korra then lit with her bending. She brought with her a two person chair, so they could easily and comfortably cuddle. 

While sitting down, Asami placed a hand on Korra’s leg, “I know this isn’t exactly perfect, but you can’t argue with the view.” The snow fall had gotten a little heavier and the flakes were getting bigger, nothing the two couldn’t handle. There was something ethereal with just looking up and watching the snow fall. Korra couldn’t explain it, but it did resonate with her.

Snow. South Pole. Mountains...cliff

Korra. Loved one, Family. Father...mother….

“This was a great idea.” Korra said as she wrapped one arm around Asami’s shoulder, “Thank you so much for this. It’s kind of a silly idea but...I’m really enjoying it.” She faced Asami with a loving smile. 

“Anything for you.” Was all Asami needed to say. As if on cue, they both leaned in to kiss each other. It was a longer kiss, both wanting nothing more to show their love for each other. 

They pulled away, both smiling at each other, “Are you serious about that turtleneck though?” Korra teased, rather ruining their small moment. But Asami was quick to retort, “You lose a lot of heat in the neck,” she didn’t want Korra having the last word. Asami laid herself onto Korra’s chest once more, continuing the cuddle session, albeit it being colder and clunkier with some winter clothes on.

A few moments passed, the snow got slightly heavier, but still nothing the two would be concerned about. Korra stared off into the horizon, just into the mountains and the snow flickering by. Asami stared at the fire before her but she wanted to talk to Korra, nothing really of importance, but something lighthearted to make her smile. Maybe wait a few more moments so Korra could center herself. 

Korra. Home. Fire. Mother. Father. Mother burning, she burned alive. 

Cold. Snow. Mountains. Cliff. Water crashing below. Failure as Avatar...new reincarnation. 

Negative thoughts were prevailing in Korra’s mind, and creeping into Asami’s. Asami has had a few moments every once in a while about her past. Even so, she would always be so happy with Korra, but she always wished that her mother could meet her future wife. She strongly believed that she would’ve supported them being together and even gotten along with Korra.  Her father, on the other hand, would’ve probably taken longer to persuade. Mayhaps not, his grievances against benders only started because….

What was the cause of all these past memories rushing through Korra’s mind? No one was trying to kill her anymore. She had prevailed through them all! She was strong...right? Was she a failure for having three major enemies all within a year? And then one caused by her decision to leave? Followed immediately by two more just because of the last one? Avatar Aang probably didn’t have all these problems like this. Was she too weak in the eyes of the world? Was she a disappointment to all the past Avatars? She felt small, mattering less and less as the seconds go by in her mind of seemingly infinite minutes. 

The smell of burning flesh, the smell of oil and fire, the sound of metal smashing metal. The smell of poison gas...the sight of Korra saving you. Korra, the love of your life. The person who you would want to spend the rest of your life with. The person who you were trying to do everything in your power to be happy. Your mother made you happy.... 

Asami then wondered what plans her mother would come up with for their wedding, but it was harder to theorize as she was killed when Asami was still young. She let out an audible sigh, trying to shake off her residual depressing thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she moved her gaze to the ground, now having a layer of snow. Something moved caught her eye, it was the snow. On one of the legs of the chair, the snow was slowly crawling upwards and then fell. But that was nothing to what caught her attention next, the fire. It was growing, shrinking, gone out, lit itself again, turned blue, and more unnatural reactions, how could she have not noticed this sooner? 

Asami shot up and looked at Korra, her eyes focused on something that wasn’t there. Korra’s breathing was irregular and short, and unbeknownst to Asami, her muscles were spazzing. Asami could then make out that her eyes were watering, how long was I out?! She panicked. 

Did the world really need the Avatar? Was Amon right, were benders inherently evil? Did Vaatu and Unalaq cause her to lose the legacy of all of her previous lifetimes? Did Zaheer break her in ways that no other Avatar has been broken? Was he right that the Avatar has no place in the new world? Was she putting innocent lives in harm’s way because of her actions? Was--

“Korra!” Asami shouted. Korra came back and sharply inhaled, as if she had not been breathing the entire time. Her sight was only Asami, who was now kneeling directly in front of her. Her face was full with worry as she was firmly grasping Korra’s shoulders. 

"...Hey…." Korra's reply was shaky as she returned to the reality in front of her. Asami didn’t respond back, she just stared at Korra, increasingly concerned as Korra took longer to continue. Asami just looked at Korra, with her eyebrows raised and eyes wide open, as she waited, impatiently, for her to respond. 

“Sorry…” Korra continued, still catching her breath, “..It’s just…,” another pause, she didn’t want Asami to worry so much. Korra knew that she had to tell Asami the full truth, but damn it would hurt Asami more, especially over things that happened years ago. They’ve moved on from all those incidents, the pain. This was absurd, it was as if they travelled back in time, she felt all those same fears and pain as she did long ago. 

Korra swallowed, “It’s…” she tried to say something, but only began to chuckle instead over how ludicrous all this was, and it seemed that was enough to let the tears she was holding back to finally fall. “Sorry…,” she said again, “...I just feel silly.” She sniffed. Asami moved one of her hands to cup Korra’s cheek, which Korra leaned into and placed her hand over Asami’s. Closing her eyes, she resumed, “I’ve been having these never ending thoughts about like when I was crippled. All those things that Amon, Unalaq, Vaatu, Zaheer, and Kuvira had said. Losing my connection to my past lives. Feeling just as hopeless and useless as I did way back when I lost my bending. I…”She took a staggered breath, eyebrows furrowed, “It happened so long ago, and I know I should be over these things, it’s all been over and dealt with. I thought I was done with these stupid thoughts.” Her breathing picked up, “I just feel so stupid and worthless!” She painfully admitted, tears now flowing faster. She opened her eyes to look at Asami, hoping that she didn’t cause too much pain.

Asami smiled softly and stood up, Korra still holding onto her. “Hold on.” she said tenderly. She removed Korra’s hand and stood up. Undoing her jacket, she sat back down on the other end of the chair and had her arms open. Hands gesturing her partner to come to her, which Korra obliged without any hesitation. Korra placed her head on top of Asami’s chest and breathed with her. 

“It’s ok,” Asami began, “You’re ok to feel those emotions again. You’re still as strong as ever. You’re just as useful as ever, to the world and especially to me. You belong here, and matter to everyone alive, even the spirits.” Asami placed her hand on top of Korra’s cheek again and began stroking her thumb across. “It’s not silly or weak of you to feel what you’re feeling again. We all have our days. You’ve had near death experiences, you can’t just get over something like that and not be bothered by it ever again.” She kissed the top of Korra’s head, trying in every way that she could to reassure Korra. “Can I tell you something?” She asked.

“Mmhmm.” Korra didn’t really have the energy to say anything else. 

“You gotta promise me that you won’t get upset.” Asami said cheekily. There was just a slight pause before Korra nodded to agree.

“Ok, well, just now, I was thinking about my parents and--” Korra shot up, interrupting Asami. She felt extremely guilty, how dare she be upset about anything when Asami was grieving. Asami knew this would happen, “You promised you wouldn’t get upset.” She said with a smile, “It’s ok, come back to me,” she said tenderly. Korra slowly placed herself back onto Asami’s chest. “What I was going to say, is that even I still get wrapped up in those thoughts, I believe everyone does. Some are better at hiding it than others, but we still go through it.” She hugged Korra tightly, “And  no matter what other people say, no matter what the press says, no matter what your head says, you’re still as strong as ever and you’re still important as ever. Always remember that I love you, Korra, with my entire being. Doesn’t matter what the world does to you, to me, to us. As long as we’re together, I know we can handle it together.” Asami affirmed. 

There was a small moment of stillness until Korra slowly raised her head to look at her compassionate and caring lover, “...Thank you...I love you too, Asami.” She sniffed again, her tears had stopped for a small moment. “...I made your turtleneck wet.” It was Asami’s turn to laugh. 

“It’s fine. I know you can bend it out.” She said with a chuckle.

“Do you want to talk about your parents?” Korra asked quietly, still trying to regain her composure.

“We can, but first I want to know if you’re ok. Once you are feeling better, we can talk about me. I don’t want you to feel down.” Asami leaned in and kissed Korra. “I just want to make sure that you know that I care about you and that you can still talk to me about anything, even if you think it’s ‘silly.’” They kept their eye contact, until Asami pulled Korra back down. “Do you think going to the South Pole will make you feel any better?”

Korra barely raised her shoulders up, “I don’t know...I think I just wanted to be somewhere familiar.”

Asami started to lightly rub Korra’s arm, “I’m sorry that the mansion isn’t really a cozy and familiar place for you yet. I hope one day it will.” Asami paused, “Or…,” she tilted her head and looked up, “...I could sell the mansion and we could get a small one bedroom apartment or house! And then...wait no, it’d have to be a two bedroom. Naga needs her own room.”  Korra laughed out loud, there she is. Asami couldn’t help but to chuckle along with Korra, her happiness was indeed contagious. “Then I can turn this into another warehouse and--”

“Stoooop,” Korra groaned lightly. “We don’t need to sell your home. Besides...there’s a lot of memories for you here. And…” Asami’s Mother. Asami’s Father. Asami’s past. Asami’s livelihood. Me moving in. So many nights here of just us. Us. Our future. “...I want to make more memories with you here.”

Asami’s heart swelled, “Korra…,” she didn’t know what else to say. “...come here.” Korra obliged and moved in. They kissed tenderly, while Asami wraps her arms around the girl she knows she’s going to spend the rest of her life with. Korra pulled away slightly, just so she could stare at those gorgeous emerald eyes. “Korra, you’re so sweet, and I hate to ruin this moment, but can we go back inside? I’m getting cold.” She laughed. 

Korra looked confused, “But what about you? Don’t you want to talk about what was bothering you?”

“I would love to talk to you, but I want to get inside first. I promise we can talk there.”

“Ok.” Korra said softly.

“I have an idea. You keep me company while I cook us up something warm to eat, and I’ll tell you what was going on. And then we’ll eat, talk some more about this if you need to.” Asami pulled herself up from her lying position, Korra following suit, and stood up. “And then…” she led on with a very intentional long pause.

“...And theeeeeeeeen...what?” Korra asked curiously.

Asami shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll see.” Asami deflected playfully. “Come.” She put out her hand.

Korra stood up and quickly bent the fire out and grabbed hold of Asami’s hand. They walked together towards their home. 

Home. My home. Our home. Our future.

***

[harley-style]

i would take a whisper if that’s all you had to give (but it isn’t, is it?)

Summary: Letting go was the hardest thing. But it didn't kill him.This did.

Characters: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Toothless

He was lying to everyone, and especially to himself.

He doesn't just want Toothless with him.

There was some part of him that truly needed his reptilian friend. His other half.

Hiccup thought he'd been blessed by the gods, to share this bond with Toothless.

But after everything...

It just felt like he'd been cursed with the burden of having a soulmate you could never be with.

It came to him after his family visited the hidden world for once last time.

Toothless didn't remember him.

Or rather, was starting to forget.

Because he'd believed Toothless would have been able to recognize him, even from a distance. Sure, he grew some facial hair, but he knew his dragon's nose was better than that.

Apparently not.

-----------------

Hiccup had asked his people to give him the week off. Astrid could handle things for a while, and it was a trial for both his children to step up to being the chief once he retired. Or...was gone.

It was the perfect chance.

So he went towards the edge of the Hidden World again.

Alone.

-----------------

He waited for hours.

He'd arrived by the edge in the early morning, the sun not having come up yet.

By the time he'd seen the barest glimpse of a dragon, the sun was well crossing over the overhead line he'd marked as midday.

------------------

Toothless...didn't remember him.

Hiccup felt something inside him break.

--------------------

Meeting with his best friend again was an experience Hiccup wasn't sure he wanted to repeat.

Ever.

It took a long time for Toothless' pupils to dilate. By Hiccups estimate, it had been half an hour tops before Toothless even nuzzled into his palm.

Hiccup had gone on to scratch his best friend's head, like he'd always had when they were still together, but the moment he made a move, Toothless snarled at him and took off, leaving Hiccup stumbling back in shock.

---------------------

He wondered how long he'd sat there on the deck of his ship.

By the time he came to, it was nearly sunset.

He'd always assumed he and Toothless had an unbreakable bond.

That they'd always carried pieces of each other, no matter how far apart they'd be.

Clearly, it'd been one sided.

It had always been one-sided.

-------------------

Toothless didn't make things easier. That was one thing he privately admitted to himself. He said the opposite when his wife asked him about it, but he knew deep inside his core that without Toothless, he'd be nothing but a sad failure of a Viking no matter what.

The reason he was even a worthy chief today was because of his dedication to do the right thing ---

and that all started with his dragon. Everything started because of that dragon.

The bits and pieces of himself he grew into because of Toothless.

Anyone with a brain could see that Toothless was an integral part of Hiccup being...Hiccup.

Toothless was the reason Hiccup learned about mercy.

Toothless was the reason Hiccup learned to accept his responsibilities.

Toothless was the reason Hiccup finally knew what real love felt like.

Toothless didn't make things easy. That was the thing. It was never easy. Hiccup had to reconstruct everything he thought he knew about his life because of that dragon.

Essentially, his life had been about Toothless.

And to have that paragon for his life just....forget him, like he was some inconsequential little rock in the way of the road to life?

It didn't just sting.

It ripped a part of Hiccup he didn't know was already on the verge of tearing apart.

-------------------------

Of course, when he went back to New Berk, he never let it show.

Toothless may have ripped his heart in two, but he would never let it affect his family.

Not Gobber, not his mom, not his village and people.

Not to Astrid.

And especially not to his kids.

To them, he was heralded as a great and just chief, who did his best when the time came for it. He would never be as great as Stoick had been, and he didn't think he ever would have been.

But for all that it was worth, he was good enough.

And that had to be enough.

No matter how much he felt like he was going to collapse at the very second.

----------------------------

He never brought his kids back to the Hidden World.

And though they never forgot about the dragons, the children would never learn how to navigate to it.

He'd take the location to his grave.

And so would Astrid.

----------------------

[That was the last anyone had seen of the Night Fury.

In later eras, archivists and historians would uncover Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III's journal and autobiography.

All would scratch their heads in confusion when the topic of Haddock addressing Toothless as simply the species title of 'Night Fury' in the later part of his life would come up.]

fin

(in which i had feelings about the confirmation that toothless eventually forgot his best friend to the throes of time.

just to rub it in your faces, this au has cloudjumper and possibly the other berk dragons remember their riders.

this isn’t meant to be a happy fic. i was upset when i wrote this, and it was 1 am in the morning.)

[carversourcebe]

Charlie’s interview for Gay Times

What drew you to the role of Huck? Having all these incredible women at the centre of Ratched, and feeling like I got to be part of that change and storytelling, was exciting. Huck, I’ve never played somebody who had any kind of physical disfigurement as Huck, and Ryan gave me enough time to prepare and do my research; just sort of get into that skin, if you will. That was new for me, and challenging! But a challenge is what you want.

Huck is also a war veteran. How did you prepare to embody that kind of character? I read a lot and spent a lot of time daydreaming with the information I extracted from research. What’s so interesting to me about that period, in the history of veterans’ rights and the history of the war, is the attitude towards what was different, particularly WW1 and WW2. I think there was such a different expectation of war as this initiation into manhood, but also this kind of grand adventure. There was an innocence to it. The people that suffered the most coming back from this experience, other than the trauma of being exposed to so much violence, were wounded veterans. They came back and were not supported by society at large, being symbolic of that sort of failure in masculinity in some way. I read a lot about this hospital here in London that pioneered a lot of the techniques for amputees and people who needed facial reconstruction or skin grafting, and it’s heartbreaking – but so sweet – to hear about the communities that formed after WW2 that were largely left out of the narrative. The consistent theme throughout all of that seems to be these young men who wanted a sense of story in their lives, and came back and felt like they had lost everything. This tenderness and sweetness, and the way they treated all of the nurses who treated them with dignity when they felt like they couldn’t be seen in the world, I just found it very moving and that’s where the purity of the character came from.

He is the arguably purest character in the series, and we see that when he bonds with Mildred. He doesn’t witness the horrifying acts committed by Mildred, so, how do you think he perceives her? One of the beautiful details in the costuming that Lou Eyrich, the designer, did was she put an army nurse’s pin on Nurse Ratched’s uniform. That to me, was just this sign that there was this immediate neutral identification between Huck and Nurse Ratched as veterans, as people who understood the trauma of war. Therefore, Huck doesn’t have to hide anything about who he is. His wounds also sort of externalise a lot of the violence that she is so desperately trying to hide or suppress. So, there’s this sort of yin and yang between them – an unspoken understanding. I think because of that, and feeling so seen, Huck trusts Mildred more than anyone and comes to fall in love with her. I think he does believe that her ability to kind of hold space for his experience or his essence is a sign that she is ultimately a good person.

Huck is quite ahead of his time, because he’s one of the only characters who is accepting of the LGBTQ+ community. Why do you think that is? Huck is somebody who feels like they have lost everything, that they will never be treated with dignity because of how they look. I think Huck therefore has a lot of empathy for what Mildred reveals to him. There’s this sense of relief that he’s not being rejected, despite his advances, because of being unattractive or whatever reason he’s telling himself in his head. So, when Mildred shares that vulnerability with him, it’s the truth. I think Huck is somebody who just wants the truth to be spoken and shared.

The series includes some uncomfortable scenes surrounding gay ‘conversion therapy’ in the 1940s. 80 years later, and the practice is still legal in numerous countries around the world. What kind of message is the show trying to convey with this storyline? Well I think it exaggerates but very much tells the story of the brutality of conversion therapy. So often we think… You know, I’ve heard stories of actual violence happening in these conversion therapy settings, but even the mental violence and the shaming, the confusion and all of these tactics that are employed upon young queer people to try and get them to change who they are is a form of violence. This show takes that and makes it visceral. So, I think it is a pretty effective way to convey that ‘conversion therapy’ is wrong but even in the new trailer that dropped the other day this notion of humanity being able to play God just because it has the consent of a medical body, I think the show really tries to probe at that.

That twist with Huck at the end… For me personally, it was the most shocking moment on Ratched. How did you react when you read the script? [Laughs] I know! I knew before I signed up for the job, that that was a part of it, which is kind of an exciting thing as an actor because you know on some level symbolically that the character has fulfilled their part. They’ve achieved something. So pulling that and working backwards in a way and trying to create the biggest arc for the character, by the time Huck passes away – can I even say that? – I felt like he’d finally found a sense of strength and compassion and love for himself. Mildred gave him that when she insisted that he become head nurse. He died in the line of duty and that’s exactly how he would’ve wanted to go. But it is sad, especially when you really start to feel like… Some of those last scenes that I had with Sarah, they’re just so fun to act and were so beautifully written, and to think that the relationship you had with the character is suddenly done, it’s sad. It’s hard. But the funny thing was, I think the very next or the day after, I started principal photography on The Boys In The Band!

You didn’t even have time to mourn! [Laughs] Yeah. That was a solid, for sure!

You’ve collaborated with Ryan Murphy several times, and so has Sarah Paulson, but this was your first time on a project together – what was it like working with her? Yes. The first time I collaborated with Ryan was on the Broadway production of The Boys In The Band actually, and I’d known Sarah. Sarah’s good friends with a lot of those boys and I’d spent time with Sarah in New York, but we had never worked together. It is that thing of… I love Sarah, she just lights the room and she’s so fun, but suddenly you’re acting across from Sarah Paulson as opposed to the Sarah that you spend time with! I was pinching myself. I was pinching myself quite often through filming the show and just going, ‘Oh my god, this is Sarah Paulson. I better show up.’

Let’s move onto The Boys in the Band. How did you find that experience, moving from theatre to TV with this incredible ensemble cast? It was such a gift to have the entire Broadway cast and the Broadway creative team, and then having a lot of the film crew from Ratched and the creative crew moving over to do The Boys In The Band as well, as a part of the Ryan Murphy world. I will never have another experience like that and as Jim Parsons said very recently in an interview, I can’t imagine doing anything differently from now on. We all knew the words [laughs]. We knew the story, but that’s not always the case when you show up to a set. To have that sense of trust amongst the cast and crew and with the director, and having a large part of everybody there be out and proud, it was just so fun. It was so fun and because it’s all shot in pretty much one location, we shot it in chronological order, which also rarely happens on a set. Every day was just… We knew what we’d done and we knew where we were heading and had nice little lunch breaks and great catering and it was a real gay old time. It was great.

Did you face any obstacles with the new format? Well I think at the beginning it’s a question of how do you modulate a performance that you’ve done so many times in the theatre and keep it fresh and bring it down more, into a filmic reality? The biggest challenge for me was that in the Broadway production, you’re so used to having the audience and the laughs give you a sense of rhythm. A lot of the jokes are very traditional like, ‘Blah blah blah, one, two,’ whatever. It’s almost like a sitcom, right? But on a film set, there aren’t any laughs, so how do you tell the truth and not ham it up and kind of bring it into a more natural place? So, the first day was just a little nerve-wracking because you’re trying to figure out what that’s going to feel like, then from that point on we all kind of had found our respective new space and ran with it.

Like Huck, Cowboy is pure and kind-hearted. However, he’s constantly mistreated and undermined by the other characters. You’ve played him since 2018 – why do you think the boys treat him like the butt of some joke? I think they’re envious of his youth and maybe his looks, the sort of kindness with which he responds to everything. There’s a straightforwardness too, and warmth to Cowboy, where he’s just going to say exactly what is on his mind and he perceives something as literal as possible. I guess you could say he’s dumb, and that’s easy to make fun of, but he’s almost invincible because of it. The other characters are trying to get something to land on him and they can’t quite ever do it [laughs].

They say some pretty awful stuff to him, and he does not flinch. I love him? [Laughs] He’s just a puppy! He’s just excited to be around these cool, wealthy Manhattan gay guys. It’s not where he’s from. I love him too! It was another opportunity to do some research, just because I’m into that and I’m kind of a book worm. Reading about gay life in 1960s New York, 1950s New York, particularly the world of hustlers and some of the bars, Stonewall and such, it was a lot of the outsiders of the queer community that gathered there. Then, some of the wealthy John’s who were there to meet the hustlers. I think Cowboy, out of all the characters in that play, is just the most used to everybody, because his version of New York includes the entire breadth of the community, so the birthday party for him is ​his ​birthday party.

Attitudes towards sex workers have shifted since 1968, although work still needs to be done – do you think the characters look down on him because of his profession? I think it’s a combination of everything. I don’t think that it’s his profession entirely. I think there’s always been a little more understanding of tolerance and of acceptance of sex work in the gay community, the queer community. But no, I think he’s just sort of an alien. I don’t think he’s the kind of sex worker that they’re expecting.

Cowboy is another unique character. He doesn’t feel insecure about his sexuality or his profession… I think he is. It’s sort of what I was saying a little bit ago about the scene he belongs to New York, and where he comes from. I mean, you have to get specific here. But, I think he’s just representative of what’s about to happen, in some ways. 1969 is when Stonewall explodes and the gay rights movement begins, and I think Cowboy is emblematic of that. He is the only character in a play who doesn’t have a name, who is open toand open with everyone about who he is and what he does, and has zero hangups. I think there’s something very sweet and special about that.

If Ryan Murphy proposed a spin-off for Cowboy, would you do it? ​[Laughs] Obviously. Obviously! Cowboy and the John’s, I’m into it.

Why do you think the story of The Boys in the Band still resonates so well in 2020? I think it’s the subject of shame. It certainly is the project of so many of our lives, as members of the LGBTQ+ community. How do we reckon with and overcome or not entirely live with our shame? And then, in what ways can we teach the human community at large about that experience and what it means, and how we deal with it? So, as long as there is any kind of marginalisation that happens in the world, a story like The Boys In The Band is a universal one. You’ve got these characters who have all of these different ways of trying to deal with their self-loathing and a lot of the time, it’s funny and beautiful and so… entertaining. What’s really beautiful about the play is halfway through, you see just how destructive living with that level of shame and self-hatred is, and anybody can connect to that story.

Ryan Murphy and his production company have hundreds of projects in the works at the moment – can we expect ‘Charlie Carver’ to appear in the credits for any of these? [Laughs] No… And I couldn’t tell you if that were the case!

Link for the article here

[back-and-totheleft]

His anger is his art

Oliver Stone is worried that Donald Trump doesn’t get enough sleep.

“He doesn’t sleep a lot. He doesn’t take good care of his health. Don’t you think there’s some pile-up, if you don’t sleep for several years like this?”

I feel a movie coming on. Stone, after all, made W, a film about President George W Bush; this one, perhaps, could be The Don. Sure enough, he seems to be thinking about it.

“There’s nothing that could quite capture this fellow. He’s quite a whirlwind, a fascinating dramatic character. Shakespearean too, in the sense that he’s so emotional — at times he creates a storm, almost purposely every day, to keep the energy going. He creates a storm inside himself. He’s King Lear in a strange way too — which daughter loves me more?”

He’s also thinking about the murder of George Floyd, but he thinks a black director should make it.

We are Zooming. He is in Los Angeles in a large book-lined room, I am not. He’s not lost his looks — sort of handsome, friendly but in your face — and his conversation is warmly attentive.

The talk of possible films is all Stone business as usual, running towards the news and the gunfire, especially if it’s American. At 73, his soul is still that of the gonzo movie-maker who turned out almost unbearably violent films such as Platoon and Salvador. But he did them because he hates film and television violence. He learnt about the real thing when, in 1967, he joined up and volunteered to fight in Vietnam. He left garlanded with honours but angry.

“I was known for my violent screenplays, but it came from a background of real violence. There was a lot of it I saw, and I wanted to depict it accurately. I really hated that. All the TV shows — 1970s, 1980s, 1990s. Same old bullshit. I hated the fake violence, so I was trying in my movies to move away from Rambo bullshit. It just doesn’t look as good as it does in the movies; it never does.”

And now he’s written an autobiography, Chasing the Light, covering his life up to 1986. He was 40 then; Platoon had just been released and, earlier that year, Salvador. Platoon won four Oscars, one for best director, and Salvador was nominated for two, one for best writing — Stone co-wrote it. It was, as he says, “a remarkable two-film journey from the bottom back to the top of the Hollywood mountain”. He had arrived, he had been accepted. The book ends with him trailing clouds of glory.

“I’d managed to crest into the light,” he writes. “Money, fame, glory and honor, it was all there at the same time and space. I had to move now. I’d been waiting too many years to make films. Time had wings. I wanted to make one after the other in a race against that time — I suppose really a race against myself in a hall of mirrors of my own making.”

Will there, I wonder, be another volume?

“Yes, of course. Why not? I think it’s important for me to at least come to grips with things because it goes so fast. You don’t really get it all. You don’t — one event after the other. One movie after the other. You’re always dealing with people, people, people. It’s hard to have that solitary space.”

He kept diaries “to understand myself, to understand what happened”. As a result the book is phenomenally well detailed. It opens with an account of filming a scene from Salvador. It’s a cavalry charge being shot in Mexico; everything that could go wrong seems to be going wrong, and the money — where on earth is the money? But somehow he pulls it off. Reading that made my head spin: how could anybody live with such levels of risk? Reading his diaries made him ask the same question about himself.

“I always knew I was bold, but I never realised that I was crazy too and risked a lot. At 39, with nothing in my future, my father dying, my mother dependent on me, a new wife, a new baby — and I go and put everything I have into this idea, this crazy idea to shoot this movie.”

He has, as the critic Pauline Kael noted, a divided sensibility: “He’s working outside the industry, in freedom, but he’s got all this Hollywood muck in his soul.” She never liked his films, but he accepts this judgment. The book also stands up her analysis — one minute he’s the guerrilla film-maker, the next he’s lapping up the glamour, the drugs and the schmoozing with stars. But the real divisions are much deeper than that. The first is the division between his father and mother.

He was born in New York. His father, Louis, was a high-ranking soldier turned stockbroker; his mother, Jacqueline, an elegant, beautiful French lady Louis met while fighting with the allies in Europe. She loved parties and glamour — Stone says she would have loved him to make a flowery romantic film. His evocation of her character is laden with love for her. Louis was more complex, serially unfaithful and constantly at war with the demon money.

One day, when he was 16, Stone had a phone call at his private boarding school: his parents were separating. It was a pivotal moment.

“I was naive. I thought it was a happy, loving family and I was very privileged to have that. The divorce was cruel in the way that it was done. It was brutal, and it shocked me because I was naive. The whole world fell apart. They split, and there’s nothing else. There’s no brothers, there’s no sisters. There’s no home. And as a result you become an orphan of the storm. If Charles Dickens were writing it, it might be an Oliver Twist story … I used to get kidded that my name was Oliver. And maybe I did feel an identification with him.”

His education faltered. He went to Yale but never completed his degree. At 18 he started wandering the world and at 20 he enlisted, then apparently forced himself to see the worst things that could be seen in Vietnam. The book starts 10 years later when he is at his lowest ebb. He speaks of himself in the third person while talking about this moment.

“He confronts his failures in life. He sees that he hasn’t gotten his dream, what he wanted to do. And his grandmother dies. He had gone to see her on this deathbed in Paris and he talks to her. And she communicates to him, and she tells him how he must live his life the way he is doing it, he’s following his instincts. And she loved me, and she’d always loved me and believed in me. That was a big thing. Something happened at 30 with her death. And I became more mature, and my success started to flow from there.”

His attempts to reconstruct a family have been patchy. His present wife is his third, and he has two sons and a daughter. There’s a moving moment in the book when he holds one of his sons, Sean, in his arms.

“If ever there was proof,” he writes, “we are born with a sweet nature, this was it; the veils come later.”

He has a Wordsworthian sense that we arrive trailing clouds of glory, but somehow the world takes all that away. So does he think we are born good? “Yeah, I think so. A baby is innocent, beautiful. You see it in baby animals. They don’t know what the world is.”

The second division is America. He came back, he says, “very divided and alienated”.

“Nobody was walking around over there saying: I’m against the war. No. A lot of us knew the war was bullshit. Certainly the black soldiers knew that, they didn’t really believe in it.”

Stone became an American exceptionalist. Usually that means somebody who regards the US as an especially good country; Stone regards it as especially bad.

“The divide was growing when I came back and that’s still with us. You see it coming down to us to this very day. We have a law-and-order candidate in Mr Trump. He talks like a fool, but he talks like many people — more military, more power, more application of force, more violence.”

From Salvador and Platoon onwards, Stone’s work became an angry charge sheet, an indictment of US postwar politics. His 1989 film, Born on the Fourth of July, attacked the treatment of veterans; JFK (1991) embraces conspiracy theories about the death of Kennedy; Heaven & Earth in 1993 skewered the behaviour of Americans in Vietnam, and so on. Postwar American history became, for Stone, a descent into insanity.

“America just goes mad after the Second World War — it just goes mad. Under Eisenhower the beginning of this madness sets in. The question we have to ask ourselves now is: was there really an enemy? Russia was not the threat to Europe we pretended it to be. And, for that matter, China neither. And we created this postwar scenario that was culminating in this economic concept that had come out of the Depression, that we cannot go back to the old way again and have to keep going. We have to put money into this military economy, to keep the country pumped. There’s been no end to that, no end at all. It just keeps going up. It doesn’t matter who the president is in the end. It’s the system. And no one can beat that system. No one can control it.”

This is, you will gather, a tremendous book — readable, funny and harrowing. It’s also full of movie-making gossip, scandal and fun. If you want to know what working with a truly difficult actor is like, read his account of handling James Woods on the set of Salvador. Nevertheless, Stone sticks with Woods because “he is a genius”. Also if you want to know what it’s like to be so intoxicated at a Golden Globes ceremony that your speech is so bad and almost denies you an Oscar, then you need this book.

There is much to disagree with about Stone’s politics — America’s iniquities in the postwar period are nothing next to China’s — but his anger is his art. It’s a way of balancing out the deep divisions in his character and his feelings.

For the moment he is not too worried about the pandemic, but he is taking on a new cause: nuclear power.

“The virus seems to me the ongoing business of history. It’s just... there’s so many viruses. I don’t see it as an existential threat to the world. It’s more of a mood thing. No, I think the real issue is global warming.”

He is making a documentary, A Brighter Future, about the need to deploy nuclear power to reduce carbon emissions. “Renewables,” he says, “cannot solve it.”

There he goes again, running towards the news and the gunfire, like Oliver Twist always asking for more.

-Bryan Appleyard, “Oliver Stone interview: the Platoon director and Vietnam vet on his new memoir about his early days in Hollywood,” The Sunday Times, July 12 2020 [x]

[natsubeatsrock]

Comedic Relief (Probably the Last One?)

Guess I'm back to talking about Gruvia, huh? Happy International Men's Day, by the way.

I have been on a few different sides of the "fiction affects reality" debate. I used to be for it, but not so much anymore. It's not that I don't think society can be affected by the existence of a fictional media. (The thing we ought to be arguing when it comes to this.) I just don't think it's as simple as "fictional work exists and society changes because of it". I'm pretty sure these things are made much easier by factors outside of the work where the influence would be different or even nonexistent if it were the product of a different time. 

The quintessential example of this a rather infamous example of this argument: D.W. Griffiths' Birth of a Nation. For those outside the know, it's a 3-hour silent movie from 1915. It has a 100% rating from Rotten Tomatoes, largely for revolutionizing film techniques made standard today. It also happens to be cartoonishly racist. To the point of its climax involving the KKK "saving" a town from the black people "taking over" the town. I had to watch it for a college US History class because it's regularly cited as the reason for a resurgence in the KKK during the 20th century. (tfw you originally wrote this before the Charlottesville and the KKK is still culturally relevant.) 

The issue I've come to have with this narrative is that it ignores some important facts about the time it came out. Birth of a Nation came out in 1915, only about 30 years after Reconstruction from the Civil War ended as a near failure and 20 after Plessy vs Ferguson established the Jim Crow era. People were already coming up with the Myth of the Lost Cause, essentially excusing the South's obvious racism as a reason for secession. This theory was purported, in part, by former Princeton professor and president Woodrow Wilson. If that name sounds familiar, it's because he'd end up becoming President of the United States from 1912-1920, notably when the film was shown at the White House.  

To me, this film was more of a spark igniting an issue long doused in fuel more than an introduction of an issue not yet known. People didn't see this movie and decide the KKK was a good idea, especially considering they had been previously labeled a terrorist organization before getting shut down. This movie was a critical domino in a long line of dominoes leading to the KKK's resurgence. 

Why bring all this up exactly 435 words before Gruvia is mentioned a second time?

Simple, the ship has been argued to be capable of affecting reality. Now, I'm not a big fan of Gruvia. I feel like I've softened up on the ship since the series ended, but I still don't love it. I have even argued that stuff being fictional is bad on the merit of not being thought through or played out well by its creator. (That is not to say that writers can't handle problematic topics.) But I can't say that this exact claim is true with Gruvia. 

What do I have to worry about Gruvia affecting? Partnerships where the guy's word is taken as less credible as his female partner's? Even ignoring how unpopular Fairy Tail is among the general anime/manga community, and how much of a niche that community even is in the world, do I think Gruvia would be even close to a cause for this becoming a mainstream issue?  

Fun fact: if you couldn’t tell I started writing the first draft of this post with the intention of it to be ready about three years ago. If I could say that in a pre-MeToo era, I can't say that now. (And many would argue that I couldn't have said that then either.) Consider that we live in a society where, earlier this year, people were mad that a major inciting incident for Rising of the Shield Hero was a false sexual assault accusation earlier in the year. Like I’d be more sympathetic towards this if people weren’t mad at this fictional series didn’t also shoot the idea of false sexual accusations down as “so incredibly unlikely as to be unrealistic”.

If anything, the fact that people consider the more messed up stuff Juvia has done to be "comedic relief" proves that this is already an issue our society has. I’ve said this about her part in the anime version of Special Request. I’ve said this about her dealing with Gray’s rejection during the Grand Magic Games. I’ll say it again: Juvia does a lot of stuff that’s pretty messed up and I'm not sure people would treat it funny if the genders were swapped.

All that being said, I don't know how to feel about how Mashima seems to be plotting to make Gruvia canon. The issue with Gruvia, as I have interpreted it, has been if Gray is willing to accept Juvia's feelings for him. Since the events of the Alvarez Empire arc, it seems like Gray doesn't feel worthy of Juvia's feelings. He wants to become worthy of Juvia's affections. 

One the one hand, I get that he would have this issue considering this is Gray "almost used Iced Shell three times" Fullbuster, we're talking about. That he feels like he messed up and doesn't deserve another chance is almost exactly what drives him to use Lost Iced Shell in the last arc. I remember him saying that scars are cool to have in the second-worst arc in the series. It's pretty cool (for Gruvia shippers) that the final arc ends with him saying that he wishes Juvia's scars were his. These aren't feelings that are entirely out of place for him to have. 

On the other hand, I can't say that, of the two people in the relationship, Gray being the one who is being made to see the error of his ways is a good thing. Like, in canon, Juvia considered Frosch to be a love rival. There's even a cover in the sequel hinting at this. Isn't the fact that this is even potentially a running joke a little bit too much? That's not even going over some of the other stuff the anime has added into the mix for its fans like 413 Days and her part in Special Request. I don't love that Gray is made to feel bad for not liking Juvia and Juvia isn't criticized for her outlandish behavior regarding Gray. 

I think I've sounded enough like an MRA for one day...

I’m starting to get into the swing of making long posts again, outside of rewriting Fairy Tail. I figured I should start with a topic that’s been on my hypothetical “things to post list” for way, way too long. Even as I’m working on that now, it feels good to make posts like this again and I have a few more in the works. Hopefully, I’m not the only one excited over some of these posts.

[chezzyspam]

Time for the best boy, Nightmare Fredbear, to shine!! ~~~ NIGHTMARE FREDBEAR Aliases: Fredbear, Younger Brother/Traitor (Nightmare), Loser/Weakling (Nightmare Gang), Freddybear/Darling (Baby) and Fatso (Springtrap) Animatronic Model: Nightmare, Hallucinogenic, Bear Programmed Gender: Male Programmed Age: 39 Affiliations: Nightmare Gang (former), Fredbear’s Diner (former), The Outcasts (current) Occupation: Co-Head of the Nightmare Gang (former), Head performer at Fredbear’s Diner (former), member and “brawler” of the Outcasts (current). Personality: Originally programmed to become a sadistic, cold and violent clone the Nightmare Gang accept, Fredbear’s more friendly and gentle nature proved that the programming on him failed. He does show similarities however, like their loudness, toughness and aggressiveness, but shows a contrasting personality as a whole. He’s more willing to give others more chances, more willing to protect them at all costs and willing to fight for what he believes is right. On the other hand, he loses his temper easily and easily finds discomfort in some of the other’s ideas and actions. Additionally, due to a huge lack of love in his lifetime, Fredbear is very possessive over the people he loves and can get kinda jealous. This, along with the fact that he falls victim to love easily, can be shown with his relationship with Baby over time. As for his combat skills without his abilities, his physical strength and know-how with hand-to-hand combat make him the crew’s best brawler. However, he is slow in speed and short in jumping height due to his heaviness. He also isn’t skilled with most weapons, as he often opts to using his powers or fists. Nightmare Gang Powers: Due to his high rank in the Nightmare hierarchy, he possesses multiple abilities (which will be explained in a later post,,,). He has the average powers of a normal gang member, such as invisibility and the ability to appear and disappear in front of humans at will, but possesses his own powers, the main one being telekinesis. He can lift most things, but he has a tough time lifting people up and heavier objects. Overuse of his power results in nausea and tiredness; the same thing goes for his invisibility powers. Backstory: He was built by the Nightmare Gang, a group of evil doers who want to terrorise humanity, by Nightmare as his little brother so he could become the next heir of the Gang. His construction was successful, but his programming didn’t go as planned, as he wasn’t like them personality-wise; he wasn’t as mean as them, and was way more emotional than them. They thought that pressure would mould him into one of them, but Nightmare went a bit easier on him, because of their brotherhood, but was still very rough towards him. One day, Fredbear was given the task of terrorising one child, which he reluctantly agreed to. At nightfall, he couldn’t be bothered to go and scare this child, nor did he want to as he saw it as pathetic, so he sat down and ate while watching TV. Halfway through his meal, he’s met with a scared face by the right corridor, the scared face of the FNAF 4 Crying Child, who I’m gonna call Kevin. He lets him sit with him after explaining to him multiple times that he wasn’t evil, and eventually found out of how he was being bullied by his older brother, teased by his sister and neglected by his dad. Fredbear felt something that he never felt before after he heard this: empathy. He decided to look after Kevin, pretending to terrorise him but in reality playing and having fun with him as they grew a father and son-like friendship. Once finding out of the construction of a diner, he decided to disguise himself as a more friendly-looking animatronic there to see Kevin during the daytime, and would eventually meet Spring Bonnie, a golden yellow rabbit who he quickly became pals with. This lasted a good few months, and during this time, he would also go with Kevin to another restaurant - Circus Baby’s Pizza World - where he meets the Funtimes and Baby, who sees him as a good person and friend unlike most of the others. However, when Fredbear felt like everything was going great, it all went downhill very quickly.. Nightmare eventually found out about Fredbear’s lies and was furious that he befriended “Earth Scum”. He formulated a plan to get back at Fredbear, which was that he would possess Fredbear during one of his performances at the Diner, and cause the Bite of ‘87. Nightmare Fredbear was panicking as Kevin was forced into his mouth, and was so shocked when his jaw closed on its own, biting down forcefully on his head. Holding his lifeless body in his arms, the grief, guilt and shock made him reveal his true form to the horrified crowds and a shocked Spring Bonnie, before running away to hide. He took Kevin’s body to the ER, left him with horrified medics, and ran away to the Nightmare Gang’s hideout in tears. Upon arriving, Nightmare explained what he did, and released his wrath onto him, expressing how angry he was at his lies and how he stooped so low to befriend a child, a regular robot and a Funtime. Nightmare Fredbear expressed his melancholic fury at Nightmare, screaming on how he loved Kevin as a son figure and friend, and how he will pay for what he did. Nightmare disregarded this and, decided that he still had a price to pay for his betrayal; as a result, he started to beat him up badly, removing Fredbear’s right eye in the process. He was kicked out onto the streets and banished from the Nightmare Gang forever. Fredbear roamed the darkened streets in tears and oil-like blood, not knowing where to go, except Kevin’s house. Walking in there and remembering all the fun they had broke his metal heart. He knew he couldn’t stay there for long, but as he was wondering the house he found a peculiar thing, an elevator. Unable to think straight due to grief, crying and oil loss, he mindlessly stepped inside and went down, passing out halfway there. Upon waking up, he finds himself bandaged and lying on a stage. He was then approached by a familiar figure: Baby, though he didn’t recognise her at first, as she had a massive upgrade. Fredbear explained his distress about what happened to him and how he’s a monster, as Baby consoled him. She also let him stay, as he had nowhere else to go. He stayed there a while, mainly hanging out in Baby’s auditorium, and really got to know Baby, consoling her after she accidentally killed Elizabeth Afton. Once again, Fredbear started feeling things about Baby similar to how he felt about Kevin, but they were different; he felt a lot happier, more warmer and had a faster “heart rate”. He soon realised that he had a crush on Baby, but he tried to brush it off as much as he could, as he didn’t think animatronics should date as that seems weird. But all the same, he couldn’t help feel that way... Not long after he came to this conclusion, Baby formulated a plan to escape the underground facility, as she hated everything about it. She scooped all the Funtimes and herself so they could become part of Ennard, and then scoop “Eggs Benedict” to take control of his body. Nightmare Fredbear couldn’t do much than just watch as this unraveled, as he couldn’t be scooped and because he didn’t like the idea of this plan, but he was told to join them but become invisible. After the plan’s failure, they found their way back to the Sister Location via the sewers and once reconstructed, everyone began voicing their anger at Baby for the failure, to which she tried defending herself saying that she didn’t know that would happen. Fredbear stepped in and calmed everyone down, agreeing to both sides of the argument but telling them to just chill out. A couple of days later, the company came down to dismantle the animatronics properly, and reprogram them, as their escape attempt proved them to be “defective”. Only Fredbear and Baby escaped, as Ennard and Ballora convinced them to leave as they held off the company men. The pair of them ran far away, at first seeking refuge in an abandoned hut, but relocating not that long after and stumbling upon Fazbear’s Fright, an old Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria converted into a horror house. They sneak in but are confronted by the Phantoms of old animatronics and the only real animatronic, Springtrap, who Fredbear recognised at once as Spring Bonnie, but decayed and with someone’s corpse inside him. Springtrap recognised Fredbear too, and wasn’t really happy to see him, as he was still mad that he lied about who he was. Nonetheless, he convinced him to let him and Baby stay, and there they stayed. There they also met two other animatronics who became guests to the horror attraction, Freddy and Toy Freddy. Relationships Nightmare: The pair of them are brothers, Nightmare being the oldest, and they originally had a neutral relationship. Nightmare would often tease Fredbear about his imperfections and get a bit angry at his reluctance to follow the Nightmare Gang code. Fredbear would get annoyed at his constant mockery and would often respond with a scoff. After the Bite of ‘87, the brothers’ hatred for each other sizzled up to their boiling point and they now detest each other. Nightmare Gang: none of them really got along with Fredbear, because of how different he was. Fredbear didn’t care, as he never liked any of them. The only one he’d remotely have a decent conversation with is Plushtrap, in his opinion. He also hates Nightmarionne the most, as she likes to bully him often. The Funtimes: They don’t really trust him a lot because of him being a Nightmare animatronic, especially Funtime Foxy. Ennard and Ballora are more willing to give him a chance, and are on neutral terms with him. Funtime Freddy and Bon Bon are horrified of him, and cower behind Funtime Foxy whenever he’s in the room. Fredbear doesn’t really mind, because he knows he can’t help it, but he’s trying to prove to them that he’s a good guy. Circus Baby: when they first met, she was wary about him, but upon finding out that he’s not like the other Nightmares, she decided to give him a chance, eventually becoming friends with him. She was the one who found Fredbear passed out and wounded in the elevator and was the one who fixed him up, distressed over his broken state. She deeply cares for him, and feels emphatic whenever he’s upset. Fredbear enjoys her company and empathy, eventually developing a crush on her. She also develops one later, but the pair of them try to disregard it, as they think animatronics dating is weird. Freddy Fazbear: The pair of them are on very friendly terms, because Freddy respects how he coped with the past events and how he dealt with them. Fredbear appreciates this and thinks of him as a good person, but is irritated by his constant disputes with Springtrap. Toy Freddy: Toy Freddy was scared of him at first, but after learning about his backstory, he feels sympathetic to him and tries to be kind to him, even if his wilder nature annoys him. He appreciates his kindness, and vows to protect him, as he believes Toy Freddy’s not much of a fighter. Springtrap: The pair of them used to be best friends during the Fredbear’s Diner days, but after the Bite of ‘87, they drifted apart until they reunited in Fazbear’s Fright. They’re not as close as before anymore, but are on neutral terms. Fredbear also really wants to mend his friendship with Springtrap, but Springtrap seems disinterested. ~~~ My boy is finished!! Time for the final Outcast Member!!

[chaosworthyarchive]

¦ 11 - 25 - 3226      Scrap Brain ¦

---

     It was the clattering of teacups, the telltale sound of glass on glass, that snapped the hero out of his thoughts with a small jerk. It was only then he realized he had been on the receiving end of a worried look, not just from the one sitting across from him but the waitress who had just brought them both their tea. The latter seemed to think better of asking, merely setting the two cups down on the table before politely excusing themselves. The former did just the opposite.

     “Is everything alright, Mr. Sonic?” Per usual, there was an innocence, an honest concern, in Cream’s voice that the hedgehog just couldn’t help but smile at.

     “Everything’s fine, sorry about that. I was just...spacing out a little bit,” he told her, taking his cup from the middle of the table to set in front of him. As his fingers wrapped around the cup he could see something cautious in the rabbit’s eyes, a hesitation before she spoke again.  

     “You’ve been doing that a lot lately...” her tone was careful, her coffee-colored eyes glancing around them, to the other patrons of the café before settling on the hero again. “Is it because you’re still nervous about being out in public?”

    It was a harmless question but the hero still frowned a little at it, an apprehension in his demeanor as he fought the urge to look around himself. He hadn’t realized it was that obvious but he figured there was no point in lying about it, though he kept his own voice relaxed. “A little, yeah, but ‘s not so bad here so don’t worry.”  

     That much wasn’t a lie either, and he was grateful that the small building was situated just on the outskirts of the city. It was where he and the rabbit often met for these little chats, just to catch up, though it had been months since they had been able to properly do it thanks to recent events and the hedgehog’s aforementioned wariness. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy being out like this, just that he had never thought it a good idea after everything that had happened. Things hadn’t cooled down as much as the hero would have hoped.  

     “Is it bad in other places?” Cream’s next question got a look from the hedgehog, like he didn’t quite understand but in reality he didn’t know how to answer that, and she continued by way of explanation. “Amy tells me that you’ve been mostly keeping to yourself ever since you left Knuckles’ home. Are things…okay in the village?”

     “They are, yeah, surprisingly enough,” he assured, again more truth than anything to his answer as he smiled again, a warmth to it this time. “Cheesy as it sounds, and for all the stuff I’ve been through, the village has always been the one place where I feel…I don’t know, normal I suppose? Rosie’s seen t' that for years and she made doubly sure of that after…well, everything.”

     “It’s because everyone there loves you, and they know how hard you’ve worked to save everyone. A lot of people realize that, I think,” Cream beamed, either not noticing or ignoring the brief flash of uncertainty in Sonic’s eyes. “How are things in the city? You stay in Scrap Brain a lot too, right?”

     “Did Amy tell you that as well?” The moment he asked the hero could tell that was exactly what had happened and he made a mental note to talk to the pink hedgehog about what she talked about with other people. It wasn’t much of a problem with Cream, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Especially these days. Still, the lingering question brought silence with it, the hero doing his best to put on a reassuring smile. “Things in the city are…okay.”

     Cream saw right through it, concern plastered on her face as she raised her cup to take a sip. She didn’t know if she was overstepping by wanting to continue their conversation, but she decided to risk it, softly asking, “so…not good?”

     The hedgehog didn’t answer right away, much to the rabbit’s despair, his bright eyes lowering to his own cup as he thought about how to best respond. It occurred to him he could just fib, come up with some half-truth and move on, but he didn’t really see a point. Not just because Cream might know something wasn’t right, but because she was bound to find out sooner or later. Be it either from Amy or some random conversation between strangers, she would eventually find out that things weren’t all okay.  

     After the silence had gone on for a little too long, he sighed. His eyes didn’t raise, and his voice fell quiet but he did answer, albeit hesitantly. “They could be worse, but they could also be better. It’s…hard t' explain. People don’t hassle me or anything like that, and some of them go out of their way t' act civil enough but…”  

     Sonic stopped there, frowning as he tried to word things the right way. He didn’t want to make the rabbit worry, something that had already been long since accomplished, but he also didn’t know if there was a way around it. If he was going to be honest, the whole thing worried him as well and it had for the past few months. Maybe he was a fool for thinking, or hoping rather, that things would go back to some semblance of normal after the reconstruction began, when life started veering back on track. He expected people to be upset, and they rightfully should have been, but even he hadn’t expected the level of it that greeted him more than half the time he went out in public. 

     He thought he was imagining it at first but then he started to hear things, noticing people avoiding him, and that had confirmed his suspicions. The hero didn’t like it, which was why he looked off to the side to avoid Cream seeing the upset look in his eyes, but understood. Maybe he shouldn’t have, maybe he should have been trying to fix things instead of keeping to himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to and as his hands wrapped around the cup in front of him, the hero couldn’t even look at his reflection in the dark liquid.  

     “There’s still a look in everyone’s eyes when they see me, Cream. Like...most of them don’t know what t’ think anymore and the others…” another pause, this time with the hero’s eyes meeting her’s, a dull sorrow in them. “It’s like they’re scared.”

     This time, it was Cream who fell silent. While they didn’t talk about it often, the rabbit knew that being held up to his title of ‘hero’ for so many years had taken its toll on the hedgehog in front of her. She wasn’t a fighter, wasn’t even a part of The Freedom Fighters or the hero’s immediate circle of friends, yet they had found a mutual friend in Amy, and soon realized they had a liking for the simpler things. There weren’t many people the rabbit could sit down with over a decent cup of tea and just chat, but Sonic had quickly filled that role once she had gotten enough courage to ask so many years ago and she knew neither of them regretted the decision. 

     But there had always been that one thing, that dull speck of something deep in his eyes that had grown so much over the years, that she had to wonder if he was really alright. After Robotnik had come back, after a handful of cities and towns had been destroyed and Grand Metropolis had fallen at the hands of Chaos, she knew things hadn’t been easy. Even if the good guys had won in the end there was still lasting damage and because Amy had been exhausted after the whole ordeal, Cream knew the same had to have gone for Sonic. Even now she could tell he still wasn’t quite right, and that was why it hurt her to hear what he said. And even worse that he was, technically, right.  

     The people were scared, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him that. She might have lived in a small town outside of Scrap Brain, away from the usual hustle and bustle, but word spread like wildfire. It hadn’t taken long after the final attack, after Chaos had disappeared for the rumors to start spreading. Some people, and Cream truly wanted to believe it was most, were thankful for what the hedgehog did and had truly been worried for him after what happened. There had been a lot of raw emotion after the fight in Grand Metropolis, a lot of people had been sad and had confided in each other, supported each other and the heroes who saved the city. 

     Others had done just the opposite.  

     Other people were angry, and Cream had never really known why. She hadn’t understood it and had asked her mother about it but even Vanilla hadn’t been able to give much of an answer. The best she could offer was that those people just didn’t understand what had happened and that they were upset on behalf of the people who had gotten hurt, who had lost things and families. Because Robotnik was gone, they had no one else to be mad at so they had picked Sonic as a scapegoat.  

     Cream didn’t know the whole story of what had happened there in the middle of the city, once The Freedom Fighters had arrived at the scene and tried to stop the demigod. Not even Amy had told her everything, but people were saying things. They were saying that the hedgehog was dangerous, of all things. Some even thought that he was the reason everything had happened in the first place, that he was the reason Robotnik had attacked so mercilessly due to the human wanting revenge for all his past failures.

She had never believed any of it. She had known Sonic for a while, ever since she had been six, and the one thing she was certain of was that Sonic was a good person. He would have been the first person to admit that he wasn’t perfect, but Cream was always right there to remind him that he always tried to make the best out of a bad situation, tried to make things better for everyone, and that was what counted. He helped people, had always put their needs before his own, and that’s what made him a hero in her eyes and so many other’s.

     “Do you want to know I think?” A courtesy coated her voice as she looked at him, brown meeting green with a gentle smile forming beneath them and she reached out to take one of his hands. “I think people seem that way, that they might even be that way, because...you’re still a little scared and unsure yourself.”

     To that, Sonic could give no response. He didn’t want to admit that she was right but a feeling in his gut, some small voice in his mind, was leaning in that direction. Something about it must have shown on his face because it was a few moments later when the rabbit’s smile lowered a notch, and she squeezed his hand before leaning back in her seat and her next words were something he was utterly thankful for.

     “Let’s talk about something else, okay...?” The last thing Cream wanted was to ruin the hero’s day, or their time together. Luckily, she thought she had the perfect topic lined up and practically beamed as she looked at Sonic. “Did Amy tell you about school?”

     It worked and the rabbit was rewarded with a smile from Sonic, who nodded in a proud way. As to be expected by now, Amy hadn’t been able to contain her excitement or keep the fact that Cream had decided to become a wildlife veterinarian a secret for very long and had told him not long after. “She mentioned it, yeah. Can’t say I’m surprised by your pick, but ’s fitting. She also mentioned something about getting you an internship, have you started that yet?”

     “My first day will be after the holidays. Amy even offered to give me a place to stay so the commute isn’t so bad,” Cream explained, the excitement in her voice unmistakable. “I told her I don’t want to impose but even Tekno said it was okay so I think I’m going to take the offer, at least for a little while.”

     The look on the hero’s face said he thought it was a good thing, even before he nodded. “If you ask me those two could use the distraction. Tekno’s been so busy overseeing things in Grand Metropolis an’ Amy’s still adjusting to her new position at that company of hers, if it wasn’t for each other I think those two would work themselves t’ the bone.”

     If nothing else the two of them were ambitious which wasn’t a bad thing necessarily but, from his perspective on the whole thing, it didn’t seem like the pink hedgehog or canary got much time to breathe these days. Yet, at the same time, they seemed to thrive in that never-ending hustle and bustle so maybe it was simply how they preferred things. They always made time for each other and their friends so it easily could have been more unfavorable. 

     “They really are good for each other, aren’t they?” Cream’s voice cut across that thought and Sonic had to smile at the question. It had been a few months after the, literal, chaos of the last assault when the two roommates had finally come clean about their feelings for one another (something Sonic had always suspected but never actually brought up out of mutual respect). He had to admit they really were an ideal couple, not that he had expected anything less. What he hadn’t expected was the almost sly expression that took over the rabbit’s face a moment later as she looked him dead in the eye. “Kind of like you and Mina are, huh?”

     “Very clever.” Try as he did to give the other a semi-scolding look the hedgehog just couldn’t manage it and merely shook his head, his grin all too evident. Much like Amy and Tekno, he and the mongoose had a long talk about what the future was going to hold and both had agreed they were tired of beating around the bush when it came to what they were and had taken the dive. The thought was enough to bring a warmth to his chest. “But I guess I can’t argue with that one, she’s been great with everything. Still not sure how I lucked out with that one.”

     “Are you still staying with her?”

     “Mostly, but I spend a few days here and there in the village too. If I didn’t I don’t think Rosie would take well t’ it after everything that happened,” he admitted, then shrugged casually. “Plus I like keeping Kintobor company when I can.”

     Cream seemed to consider his answer, almost as if she wanted to ask about something else before settling with, “have you given any more thought about moving there? To Green Hill?”

     “Yes and no. I’d like t’ don’t get me wrong, but...the time just doesn’t feel right yet.” Sonic didn’t really know how else to put it, honestly. He had always wanted to move back to his hometown once things had settled down, dreamed of it even, but now that the option was there something was holding him back from actually doing it. He didn’t know what it was, maybe it was some fear of rejection or something to do with everything that had happened, but it was there and no matter what he did it just didn’t want to go away.

     Sonic knew, or rather hoped, it would disappear one of these days. When was anyone’s guess, but he was going to remain optimistic on that one and it seemed Cream was as well.  

     “That’s okay, you have plenty of time to think it over now, and I’m sure everything will fall into place when it’s meant to.” Again there was something about the rabbit’s smile that almost made it seem like everything was going to be okay in the end, like there was nothing to worry about. Sonic didn’t know if it was just his imagination or not, but there was no denying the conviction of the rabbit's next words. “It’s like Mama always says, you never have to force anything that’s meant to be and as long as you keep your head up, things will turn out okay.”

     Sonic couldn’t say he was surprised to hear that, knowing that Vanilla, Cream’s mother, was just as kindhearted and wise as her daughter. It was no wonder where the younger rabbit had gotten it from, yet the whole notion brought an odd peace to the hero. What was going to happen would come into fruition eventually, it was his outlook on those events that was going to make all the difference.

     In this case, just maybe, Cream’s words were ones the hero would take to heart.