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simpingcorner · 1 year

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Daughter of the Shadows ch. 3

Word Count: ~1.8k Warnings: mild violence (stabbing, mentions of gunshots, physical fighting), blood, alcohol, gambling,mention ofblood loss, mentio of attempted SA,not proofread, let me know if I forgot something.

Author's Note: Third chapter to my Grishaverse fanfic. Pretty much just a filler chapter. Sorry if it sucks. New chapter every Sunday and Wednesday. A reminder this is insipred by my SoC DR so it’ll follow both the books and the show plotlines, there will be changes to the canon characters and their storylines, it’s also a Kaz Brekker x OC. | English isn’t my first language so please bear with me and tell me if there’s something wrong. I hope you like it.

all rights to leigh bardugo, i only owny liith and her backstory (other ocs will be introduced later)

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6

CHAPTER 3

JESPER

Jesper wouldn't have known how to explain his arrival at the table, one moment he was guarding the south door, the next he was sitting at the table, surrounded by pigeons from Novyi Zem and Shu Han, "Jesper." Kaz's voice brought the boy back to reality, "Shouldn't you be guarding the door? " the boss’ hard face showed no emotion, Jesper had never seen emotions on Kaz's face, he had never seen him smiling, scared; his face, his voice, his eyes showed impassivity, never had he seen an expression other than the one he was wearing at that moment. "Right away, boss." He said before getting up from the table and heading for the door.

The line of tourists waiting to enter the Club stretched for a little over a block, it was no surprise the increase in customers during the autumn months, yet Jesper kept wondering how people like that, with enough money to cross the Fold or afford the best rooms in the best hotels of Ketterdam, could walk so calmly through the streets, not noticing the children and teens stealing their watches, wallets, jewellery, tie clips or whatever item could help them survive for at least another day.

It must be nice to have the security of eating and sleeping in a warm place.

The boy thought to himself, remembering the first months he had spent on the streets of the Barrel after dropping out of university, his father would not have been proud of him for being a gambler, whose only goal is to win enough to repay his debts. Debts his father was never supposed to know about.

The autumn night was humid and way too hot, the torpid air of the Barrel was now the only air Jesper could breathe, vaguely remembering the fresh air of his father's farm in Novyi Zem, a farm, a country, a life he had decided to abandon and forget, he had decided to start a new life at Ketterdam University, but that too, like everything Jesper started, had lasted little more than a few months. "When can we get in? We have been waiting since before the sun went down." Said the irritated voice of one of the tourists. "When you can come in I will let you in." Jesper replied as he went back to staring at the children running among the tourists, his hands steady on the handles of the guns, ready if needed, busy playing with them in such a way as to prevent accidents, his gaze shifted from the children to the tourists to the rooftops, he knew Lilith and Specht were busy with a job for Kaz and he knew they would have to return shortly.

Jesper knew that he would never have to contradict Kaz if he wanted to stay at the Slat, he knew Lilith was able to protect herself if needed, he knew she was probably one of the most dangerous and notorious people in the city, and maybe that was why part of him was agitated, although Lilith had never needed help part of him felt that she too had limits, that she too would need help sooner or later. The lights of the streetlamps flickered in the warm wind of the night, the voices of the Club's customers combined with the screams of the workers in the Pleasure District attracting new customers were now a constant in the boy's life, no matter what time it was Ketterdam was always alive, always awake, always brightly lit. "Oi Jesper, how is it today? How are the cards?" Specht asked him throwing his hat and mask into the room next to the door, "Same as always, lucky if you're rich." the Zemeni man replied shifting his gaze to his colleague, "In the next life I'll born grisha, those are the ones who enjoy life." said Specht laughing at Jesper before walking through the door, "Where's Lilith?" shouted Jesper to his colleague before he disappeared, "I think she's at Kaz's, she had to explain some things to him, she left me before dinner was over." replied Specht before disappearing into the crowd of the Club.

Something in Jesper's stomach twisted, he knew she wouldn't be coming through the front door, in his four years at Slat with her he had never seen her use the doors except to kick cheaters out or during guard shifts, which he had noticed were far inferior compared to the rest of the Crows, yet part of him felt that something was wrong, that something was going to happen.

He noticed her before she could even notice him, her blonde hair stood out among the dark colours of the clothes and the streets, the thirteen year old girl was making her way through the bodies of tourists lined up to enter. "Branwen." Jesper shouted at the blonde, her pitch black eyes met Jesper's, a worried and frightened expression on the little girl's face, "What happened?" the Zemeni asked as he knelt in front of her and squeezed her shoulder, "It's Lilith. We were talking and when I left I noticed three men approaching her." "Where?" she asked trying to keep her composure, "Around the corner two blocks from here." replied Branwen, "Okay, can you tell Big Bolliger if he can cover me while I go see what's going on with Lilith?" Jesper ran towards the alley before the blonde could answer.

It wasn't the worst thing he had ever seen or the worst situation Lilith had been in and yet Jesper froze for a second at the scene in front of him, three men were pinning the girl down, their hands were trying to travel over her body, the veil of the costume was on the ground, broken, a symbol of innocence lost. Jesper pulled the trigger without noticing the action he had just performed, one of the three men fell to the ground groaning, the boy's gaze stopped on Lilith, but her eyes travelled from his hand to the man in front of him, the second man fell groaning, her hands were trying to stop the loss of blood, but the wound left by the girl's dagger would not heal. Jesper sprinted towards Lilith, catching her in time to prevent her from falling. Her body laid motionless in Jesper's arms, blood oozed from her side, the cut on her right forearm had reopened during the fight, her closed eyes and almost non-existent breathing forced Jesper to run through the streets, making space for himself by shouting and pushing tourists and workers, Big Bolliger noticed Lilith unconscious in his arms before he even noticed Jesper shouting and trying to get into the Crows Club, the line of people waiting to enter protested at the sight of the scene, "I've been here for three hours." "I've been waiting my turn since before the sun went down," were some of the comments Jesper could hear before turning towards the pigeons, "And she’s dying. If you want I'll shoot you too so you can come in," the boy replied before entering the club.

Inej was the first to notice Jesper, she stood beside him studying the girl's wounds, her gaze and expression impassive, by now used to such scenes, "Take her to her room, I'll go get Kaz." "No.... Don’t… Call him..." said Lilith between sighs, before losing consciousness again. Jesper and Inej knew not to go against the girl's wishes, but they needed Kaz to heal her, he was the only one who could find a healer and hire him before the worst happened, "Lil, we have to, he's the only one who can help you." Jesper's voice was gentle and concerned, "Milana... Work... At the Orchid..." Lilith's laboured breathing grew quicker and more erratic as Jesper propped her up on the mattress. "Specht send someone for Milana, Rotty get me some bandages or something to stop the bleeding, Anika go back to the counter and don't say anything." Ordered Inej to the rest of the Dregs around her, Jesper was kneeling beside the brunette, one hand clasped in his while with the other he stroked her hair, something that would have ensured his death at any other time, "Don't try to abandon me. We need to call Kaz, you need help," he told Inej, "No....I don't.... Need.... Of anyone..." said Lilith breathing heavily, "We all need someone." retorted Jesper with a half smile, Lilith tried to return it before losing consciousness again.

The Zemeni walked the streets of Ketterdam insulting himself for having, once again, lost what little savings he had left, the night was giving way to the warm spring sun, his chocolate-coloured face glistened from sweat under the dim light of the street lamps and the spring sun, his hands rested on the handles of his pistols, his gaze studied the pleasure district around him, his brain finally making up its mind to accept yet another night spent on the streets. "I can help you." The sudden voice startled him, he turned in search of the owner of the voice, but found himself alone in the alley, "I can help your father." the voice added, but still no one else besides him could be seen, leaving him to wonder if he was, in fact, imagining. Why would anyone help me? How could anyone know about my father? I don't need anyone. He thought as he continued walking in the shadows of the alley.

"We all need someone." Said the voice as if reading his mind. "Why would you want to help me?" He finally asked as the shadows seemed to retreat, giving way to the light of dawn. "Because I need you as much as you need me." His eyes finally saw the owner of the voice, a young girl, her curly brown hair trying to break free from the two braids at the nape of her neck, a white scar on her right cheek gave her already intimidating image, an even more frightening aura, her brown eyes were dark, studying him, a story behind them, pain, loss and revenge were the only things that could be seen in them. Two daggers carved from bones in her hands, ready to attack. Jesper looked at her, it felt like looking in a mirror, the purple bags under the girl's eyes were the same as his own, the quivering now part of him could be seen in the girl's hands. "Why do you need me?" He asked suddenly, "Because you have skills I don't and I bet you'd rather sleep on a real bed instead of the streets of the Pleasure District." Her voice was firm, affecting, too adult for the girl. "I guess sleeping on a real bed wouldn't be too bad." Said the boy with a smile, his hands left the grips of the guns, before reaching forward, the girl copied the action, her hand hidden by a leather glove squeezed the boy's, "I'm..." "Jesper Fahey." the girl interrupted him before turning on her heels and walking towards the Crow Club.

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canyouhearthelight · 1 month

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Nihilus Rex, Ch. 34: Out Tonight

So. Before anyone comes after me, Lash's outfit - specifically the shimmery top - is insipred by a hijabi creator on Tiktok. She very literally styled a similar top, basically as jewelry. Hence why Fatima has it.

Beta read by the ever patient @baelpenrose

Let's go out tonight

I have to go out tonight

You wanna prowl, be my night owl

Well, take my hand, we're gonna howl out tonight

Rent, “Out Tonight”

Lash

“Hoo boy,” I muttered, looking at my reflection in the mirror. Mama had basically given me the boots with a wink, much to my horror. In lieu of a skirt that I felt confident would stay put, I’d managed to thrift an incredibly soft pair of skinny jeans that had likely been black originally but had faded to charcoal gray. A bottle of bleach and some cotton swabs later, and I had created a pattern that fell halfway between glyphs and circuitry. It was the top that Fatima had loaned me that had me hesitating. I had failed utterly to consider that Fatima was a lifelong hijabi, and therefore any tops she owned were basically accessories that went over her more modest layers - a minimum of two layers, possibly three. I had just seen a sliver metallic slip of fabric and decided it was perfect.

It covered basically nothing.

I had managed to put a black bathing suit top underneath it, which combined with a few very long necklaces at least covered something. But I would definitely need a very thick jacket to get out of the neighborhood with my dignity intact.

And probably keep the jacket on until we get to campus, I decided as I pinned a silver chain over my hair to keep it somewhat contained. At least almost no one from class is likely to recognize me. I grabbed my flat iron to fix one stubborn piece of hair, finishing just as my phone chirped.

“Punctual bastard,” I muttered, grinning. Spinning my jacket over my shoulders, I zipped it to my chin as I raced to the door. “Mama! Baba! Nils is here, so we’re heading out. I should be home before midnight!” Without waiting for a response, I shut the door behind me only to realize I had nearly walked straight into my date.

“Hi.”

Nils blinked at me several times rapidly, opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again. “Hi.” He was dressed in his jacket, but beneath it was a solid V-neck that I was almost certain he’d tailored to his lean body, with leather bracelets on his wrists traced with intricate designs. Tailored slacks, and heavy boots of his more usual style. “Excited for tonight?”

I nodded breathlessly. “And hoping the weather holds out. The jacket isn’t the plan, but what’s underneath won’t hold up if the temps drop more than about ten degrees.” I looked at my feet and hoped he couldn’t see my face darken in embarrassment.

“Now I’m even more excited. Come on, we have a party to get to.” He offered me his arm.

“As long as we’ve got a ride there. These boots were decidedly not made for walking.”

“I’m driving, Lash. And limiting the drinking correspondingly.”

I nodded again, relaxing. “Thank you. Fatima has to get up early to take the girls’ to school, so I really do need to be home by midnight. Tomorrow is Baba’s first day back at work, and I want to be there in the morning to see him off.” I glanced up out of the corner of my eye, but thankfully Nils just nodded. He opened the passenger door, and all gentleman-like handed me into the slick silver car. Mrs. Katherine would be proud, I had to admit.

True to form, on the other side of our ten-minute drive, he helped me back out of the car and triple checked that it was locked before we made our way to the humanities building. “Public debut?” I murmured. “As a couple, or as Nihilus Rex and the Phoenix Queen?”

“Officially, as a couple,” he murmured back. “To those who can figure out the connection from where we were at the hospital, to everything else about how we play, it will also announce us as the latter. And allow us to make our play using Weasel as a patsy without losing the credibility of him having done our spectacular work for us. We are, after all, too hot to be incels.”

“In that case, I am so glad for what I’m about to do.” The hesitation I’d felt looking at my reflection melted away the second I realized that I wasn’t exposed, I was armed. Nils gripped my hand tight and shook it, trying to get my attention, but I knew if I looked at him there was a chance something would falter. Instead, I strode confidently to the edge of the crowd outside the humanities building and unzipped my jacket. Shrugging it off, I handed it to Nils, finally looking up at his face.

I couldn’t tell if he was seeing God or Satan, but he was very much having a religious experience, from what his expression gave away. A suspicion he confirmed by murmuring, reverently, “Oh God, let me give you my life…”

“Like you said, you can’t be an incel if you have something this hot,” I sighed, still somewhat nervous. Shaking out my hair in hopes the sweat on my neck would dry, I steeled myself. “Let’s go be visible.” I started to walk, only to be held back by his hand. Looking back at him, he had a very confusing expression on his face. I shook his hand firmly. “Nils. Come on. This was your idea.”

Nils shook his head, then followed me. “Right, our public debut.” He walked into the party, each of us on each other’s arms, and waved at people as we swept into the courtyard, music pumping and music playing. We were definitely visible enough to have pictures taken, and Nils waved, the easy charisma he’d played up during our TV appearance making an appearance. “You’re amazing, Lash. Food first, drinks, or dancing?”

“Food… I was honestly too nervous earlier today to eat anything,” I admitted. “So drinks are going to be a terrible idea until I find some meatballs or - OOO! Sliders! Even better.” Nils sounded like he was choking down what I hoped was a laugh as I skipped toward a platter of turkey sliders. With zero hesitation, I made two plates, complete with spicy mustard. I managed one bite before spinning back to him. “It’s smoked turkey, you have to try these.”

I already had the one I had bitten up to his mouth before he smirked, taking a bite out of my hand and offering me one in turn. “Awesome.”

I blushed when I realized that I had broken the cool-calm-collected illusion, but realized almost as quickly that the best way to sell us being a couple was to… be a couple. It just looked natural, because it was. “There’s ham, too, if you want any,” I forced out, trying to keep going. “You know how I am about pork, but I bet it’s just as good as the turkey.”

“I’ll hold off for now.” His smile was quiet, but he put together another slider. “Oh, I think I see a fruit plate - and a whole platter of fried veggies. Interested?”

The glance I gave him was half a scowl at best. “You know I’m a slut for fried veggies. Lead on.”

The sound he made was somewhere between a laugh, a growl, and a choking sound as though he’d tried to prevent both from escaping. “Eyeah, I do know this.”

Doing my best to ignore the feral sounds he was creating, I followed him and reminded myself the best way to seem familiar is to be familiar. As he scooped veggies on my plate, I noticed something about the designs on his cuffs and realized they had to be custom ordered. A chess king and a phoenix, on one, and on the other, entangled iconography from my cultures and from the religion he’d grown up in. A Cross, bound in Samsara, which also entangled two Crescents. Nandi with a laurel crown…

He set the plate in my hands. “Hopefully it’s fried the way you like it.” One hand, just barely trembling, brought a piece to my lips.

I stared in his eyes, taking a bite. Unfortunately, I completely ruined the effect I was going for by immediately closing my eyes and throwing my head back. “Pakoras! Someone brought pakoras, they’re soooo good.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Nils started laughing. “Gotta love the anthro department, right? For culinary reasons if nothing else.” He snatched one off the plate. “May I?”

“It would probably be cleaner than if I shove them in your face, yeah,” I admitted. “The really skinny ones are okra, just a heads up - as in a warning to save me some.” The more I thought of this as just a normal interaction, the easier it became. And there was honestly nothing here to fake, either than my confidence at being half naked from the waist up. As long as the weather held out, I could forget about that.

Nils was looking around, eyes lingering on me every so often - and for a while every time they fell on me. “Good food, music is…Oh, this song is great. After we’ve eaten, want to try dancing?”

“Let’s sit while we finish eating,” I suggested. “Heels, long periods on feet, not a great combination. I’ll find a table if you’ll get some water?” Water sounded safe at the moment.

“Absolutely.” He drifted off to the drinks table.

Glancing around, I found a table that looked abandoned and, after topping up some snacky foods, went to claim it. Since the water was bottled, Nils was right behind me by the time I sat down. “I would take the boots off for a second, but then I won’t be able to get them back on,” I admitted while rubbing my feet the best I could through them. “I really need something flatter in the future. Marvel be damned, heels just are not practical.” I took the proffered bottle and swapped it for a plate. “I found meatballs.”

Nils took my information about heels with easy neutrality. “Fair enough. At some point we can absolutely take you shopping for formal shoes that are more comfortable.” He took the plate. “Oh my god I love you.” He stabbed one with a fork, and looked at me. “You going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I promised around a bite of the same. “I’m just glad that I need to be home before midnight… The reality is that I’m not even worried about dancing barefoot, I’m worried that the boots will be stolen. Do you have any idea how much these would cost to replace? Almost two grand.” I didn’t even let him hazard a guess, despite knowing he probably would have known.

“Lock them in the car if you need to?” He said, eyebrows cocked slightly. “I trust your judgment but if you’re hurting yourself out of fear of something getting stolen, we do have alternatives.”

“Let’s get through this one night and try to somehow look cool and sexy and not nerdy-cute, and I promise I’ll never wear them again. I can probably get some knee high combat boots if I knock out five more commissions.” I saw him open his mouth to say something and gestured threateningly with a meatball fork. “No. You are not buying them for me.”

“I tried,” he grumbled.

“You did,” I relented, finishing my plate. “Okay, once you’re done, let’s go mingle and try to be bleeding edge cool, maybe dance if that won’t ruin the illusion.”

Nils threw back a bit of water and chomped down a few more sliders. “Alright. Game on?” He extended his hand to me.

Trying to sell the upcoming illusion, I rested my fingers daintily in his hand. “From here on out, all conversation is tech, art, and finance. Bleeding edge, keep that in mind. Networking.”

“Right. More to make our other personalities credible to those paying attention. Little hints about our politics for those listening.” He gently pulled me to my feet, and we walked over to the space where I could see at least a few people we knew from classes.

“Time for the King and Queen to meet their investors.”

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #nihilus rex #traumatized characters #afterverse #the miys #arcadian inquisition #cyberpunk #modern dystopia

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thessalian · 2 years

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Thess vs Inspiration

So while I’m prepping for tonight’s D&D session, I’m also thinking about the various things I keep hearing about the changes being made for One D&D. Now, please keep in mind that I have zero intention of touching One D&D. It worries me on visceral levels, and I am happier with my books, thank you very much. However, doesn’t mean I don’t hear about things now and again. Most of what I keep hearing just gives me more reasons to nope out. I mean, I can see the usefulness of them? But they just don’t make sense to me. The one I understand the best? Is the one I like the least. That would be “making the giving of Bardic Inspiration into a reaction rather than a bonus action”.

I understand the reasoning. It apparently prevents the ‘wasteage’ of an Inspiration die. I get it. Except I also don’t, because of reasons which I will discuss in some detail:

You get your Inspiration dice back at short rests anyway;

How reactions work; and

How Inspiration Dice work

I’ll go with the second one first, because there are three major issues with it. One is how short a 'done thing’ for a reaction has to be. It’s got to be instantaneous with what’s going on. You’d have to know the attack from your ally was going to fail and say / sing / play something inspiring in the split-second between failed attack and inspiration-fuelled success. Turning it into a “snap your fingers; individual is Inspired” thing effectively turns your Bard into a different flavour of Divination Wizard, and takes away a lot of roleplay opportunity.

Issue two: this blows reactions that the Bard in and of themselves might need later, for spells and feats that use a reaction. This is pretty common, considering Magical Secrets and particularly considering Lore Bards. Maybe they picked up Shield. Maybe they picked up Counterspell. Maybe they picked up Hellish Rebuke. Maybe they’re a Valour Bard and picked up the Shield Master Feat. Given that there aren’t a lot of spells that take a bonus action anyway, cramming Bardic Inspiration use for others into a reaction is just a misuse of resources, and is probably going to annoy your players. I know from experience that a Swords Bard will feel guilty for using most of their Insipration dice on their Flourishes, but we do have a Valour Bard picking up the slack in that regard, so hey. Without him, though, it’d be a pretty hard choice as it is without adding “Do I want to blow my reaction on throwing Inspiration when I could be using it for something else?” to the pile.

The other thing about reactions are that they’re disruptive for a DM. Reactions make sense, but they do sort of hiccup the flow of combat a bit. Thing is, mostly they’re contained responses: “I impose disadvantage”; “I do damage back”; “My AC is now [This Number]” ... stuff like that. “I give ... [dice roll] points of Inspiration to [Player]” isn’t hugely long? But it’s just one more place where combat hiccups ... especially when you consider the third thing - how Inspiration works in general.

You roll an Inspiration die before you know whether your action succeeded or failed. As it currently stands, a player can look at their roll before even declaring what it is, think back to what hit and what didn’t, calculate the odds of succeeding with the Inspiration die and either rolling it and saying, “Okay, it was a fifteen but a twenty-one with the Inspiration die”. With Inspiration as a reaction, you get the player having to declare without being sure that they have the option to succeed, declaring the roll, Bard barging in with Inspiration ... and maybe it still not actually helping. So interrupted the flow of combat for nothing. And what happens with Valour Bards being able to add to someone’s damage roll? That just gets even more stupid.

And seriously? You sit down after a combat, have some lunch, roll some hit dice, and your Inspiration dice are all back anyway, so what the fuck is the point?

At the end of the day, it’s the cutting out of RP that annoys me. Inspiration grants as a bonus action make sense because a Bard can see what’s going on in any given fight and make an educated guess about who is likely to need the Inspiration die. That’s going to depend on the Bard in question and what they as a character prioritise. It makes more sense than a Bard who may or may not have leisure to notice everything going on over the entire battlefield being able to provide instant inspiration to whoever needs it at any given second - a Lore or maybe Whispers Bard might because they’re not generally on the front line and get a better look at what the ranged characters are doing, while a Valour or Swords Bard are more often than not directly in the thick of it and probably don’t have leisure to see what’s going on behind them because they’re too busy dealing with the large thing trying to eat their face. And as for the actual giving of Inspiration ... it’s still better done like a Bard instead of just finger-snapped into being. It doesn’t have to be Scanlan-like singing, after all; something my party picked up was having a Bard liken their situation to previous Impressive Deeds (tm) - like, “Flatten it like you did that Ghast that one time!” or “Take this one’s head off too; this time I want to see it fly fifty feet!”

Well. I mean. Honestly I mostly don’t want to touch One D&D because they keep talking about wanting to monetise it “like video games”. Not that they don’t already, to a point - supplements are pretty much DLC, I guess. Just it feels like I was probably right about them starting their own VTT and I can see microtransactions and battle passes becoming a thing annnnnnnnnd I’m just going to stick with 5e, thanks.

#Thess RPs #Thess has opinions

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fordeadleaves · 1 year

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im making another mcyt superhero au thats inspired by jrwi pd. howeever this one isnt just straight up a pd crossover! the insipration is still obvious tho. at least to me (it is also a highschool au + i stole william wisp’s thing for jimmy’s powers. kind of.)

#*the archivist speaks #[joel]

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joshscorcher · 3 years

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So, I've got this friend who really enjoys watching your vids & he's actually brainstormed some ideas for potential FieryJoker-insipred arts/designs. However, when I've asked him why he doesn't actually make + share said art - in his words - he enjoys various characters/shows/games etc. that you've previously expressed dislike for & doesn't want to appear on you & your fandom's radar. Any comments?

My fandom doesn't really do that? At least to my knowledge?

Also, just because I don't like a game doesn't mean that I hate people who like them. That's a silly reason to dislike someone.

If he wants to make fanart, I say go ahead as long as tasteful.

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redhatmeg · 2 years

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And now, Liki Liki.

I have a confession to make: this was my favorite episode of The New Adventures of Lucky Luke. I loved it so much largely because of Tchin-Tichin who seemed to be so different not only from Chinese characters in Lucky Luke media (who were often laundry boys or Chinese restaurant owners; not to mention that they’ve had this racist beaver teeth) but also from most characters Luke often meets and helps. What I mean is that, most of the time, when Luke meets someone he decides to help, they often don’t know how to fight very well; they can’t protect themselves so they need Luke’s help. Tchin-Tchin could hold his own in a fight; he “punched and kicked faster than his own shadow” and seemed to be Luke’s equivalent in that regard. This was one of the reasons I wanted to see more of him; I wanted for him and Luke to have more adventures (especially because at the end of Liki Liki Tchin-Tchin becomes a sheriff, and next time when we see him, he’s become a federal marshal).

But few years ago I’ve stumbled upon post that delved a bit into racist overtones in this episode. And yeah, I could definately see them: Tchin-Tchin’s funny foreigner antics, the fact that other Chinese characters still had beaver teeth; the Purple Dragon that was clearly insipred by Fu Manchu, Li Tchu’s fortune cookie wisdom... But there were also far worse examples, like the way Tchin-Tchin rides a horse (and it doesn’t improve in The return of Liki Liki) or the fact that at some point Lucky Luke is dressing as a Chinese man (so technically it’s a yellow face). Even the fact that Tchin-Tchin knows kung fu became kinda problematic in later years.

I think at least some of it stemmed from ignorance. The producers wanted to make a story about Chinese diaspora in USA, add some funny moments and, for a change, play with kung fu convention a little. And since in the comics Chinese people were funny foreigners, the producers didn’t see the need to change much. And probably they weren’t aware of more subtle problems because of cultural differences (like yellow face). In the end Liki Liki became one of those episodes that didn’t age well.

I’m not trying to defend it. I’m trying to understand it, while also acknowledging the problems with my favorite episode of this show. And I still love Tchin-Tchin and, in some departments, he deserved better.

Now, when this is out of the way, let’s go into the episode.

#meg rewatches the new adventures of lucky luke #the new adventures of lucky luke #lucky luke

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simpingcorner · 1 year

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Daughter of the shadows Ch. 5

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: subtle mention of human tr*****, Non-canon events(?), bittersweet goodbye,not proofread, let me know if I forgot something.

Author's Note: Fifth chapter to my Grishaverse fanfic. I know Inej canonically leaves after the events of Crooked Kingdom, or at the end of season two on the show. But trust me it’ll make sense in the future, please don’t be mad at me.

Also sorry for the late update, I was celebrating Easter with my family.

A reminder this is insipred by my SoC DR so it’ll follow both the books and the show plotlines, there will be changes to the canon characters and their storylines, it’s also a Kaz Brekker x OC. | English isn’t my first language so please bear with me and tell me if there’s something wrong. I hope you like it.

all rights to leigh bardugo, i only owny liith and her backstory (other ocs will be introduced later)

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 6

CHAPTER 5

LILITH

It had been a few weeks since she had been wounded, the brunette knew Kaz needed her, though he would never admit it.

The usual dangerous and violent jobs that had become a daily part of her life had been entrusted to Inej, leaving Lilith to guard the door of the Crow Club, the bar of the club or simply to sort out paperwork in the boss's office.

The late autumn sun woke her as it filtered through the window above her, the enforced rest and sedentary work that had filled the last few weeks had allowed the girl's wound to heal leaving only a white scar.

Lilith looked at herself in the mirror, her body like a map, a pale canvas covered in even paler lines, the scar that cut across her lips was white in contrast to the red of her lipstick, the numerous scars on her arms that cut across the two tattoos reminded her of some of the worst moments of her life, the scar on her side was just an addition to her story, something to be proud of, something to remind her of how strong she was and how many nightmares she had woken up from stronger than before.

She wore a black sweatshirt covering her story; sure she was proud of every single scar she had on her body, but she wouldn't show them to anyone, they were her past, her story, her life, her memories and no one else's, she didn't demand anyone's pity and she knew it would come if she showed them.

She covered her right hand with the leather glove, secured the knives in their sheaths, feeling the heat in the handles before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

The corridors were silent, her colleagues' rooms were closed, occupied by Dregs either fast asleep or busy enjoying their morning off; she descended the last few steps, the room in front of her, usually full and noisy was empty and quiet, the only people in the room were the younger Dregs who did not yet have the privilege of Sunday off.

"Dirix remember to clean under the table in the council room." Said Lilith looking at the younger one from the stairs, "I don't envy you Dir, at least you didn't witness the scene though." yelled Brawen from behind the counter, "Brawen the toilets on the first floor need to be cleaned." said Lilith to her with a half smile, "But I cleaned them last week, today was supposed to be Pim's turn." complained the blonde walking towards the storage room, "Pim is running errands for Specht." explained Lilith simply before walking out the door leaving the room behind.

The salty air filled her nostrils as Lilith sat on the dock of the seventh harbour, the only abandoned harbour, she fixed her gaze on the sea ahead, the blurry shadow of Hellgate in the distance ready to remind her where she would be sent if they found out who she was, what she had done to survive and how she had come to Ketterdam.

Somewhere across the expanse of water her family was looking for her, she could feel it, she knew they would never stop looking for her, but she knew she could not return to them.

"We will see each other again soon." A man's voice rang like an echo in the girl's mind, she could not remember his face, every detail of the man had disappeared from her memory, every detail except the last sentence addressed to her. It was a promise, he had promised her that they would see each other again, that they would be together again, but years had passed and that promise had been broken.

She could feel his hand gently caressing her cheek, a pure cheek, porcelain white skin marred only by tiny mahogany flecks, tears had overcome the child's resistance and fell freely onto her white cheeks, the man's thumb wiped them away as a father wipes away a daughter's.

The man's calloused but gentle hand brought her back to that day, she had left everything behind, forgetting who she was, hiding who she had been, becoming yet another soul lost to the corruption of society and the violence of the world she lived in. Everything she had had during her childhood, everything she had studied, everything she had been taught was now something Lilith would never want to talk about, she had discovered the truth too late to continue living the way she had grown up, too soon to be able to change her future and that of others.

"We will see each other again soon." Whispered Lilith to the sea, the promise echoed on the waves of the sea before disappearing into the horizon.

Her footsteps echoed before her feet touched the dock, the girl's gaze was fixed on the blue expanse before her, in the distance a few ships could be seen, she could not see who was working on them but part of her knew that one of those ships was the one that had brought her to that city, that had brought Inej, Brawen, Pim and hundreds of other kids to that city forgotten by the Saints.

"Will you feed my crows?" Inej asked as she sat down next to Lilith, her legs crossed in front of her, the handles of the daggers glistened in the afternoon sun, Lilith's gaze shifted from the sea to the Suli beside her, the brunette knew she was beautiful, that she had all the qualities a boy could ever want in a mate, but not only did she not care about boys, sure she had had her experiences but she would never want to feel trapped in someone else's shadow, she had decided to be free, to choose herself, her heart had no place for another person, but all the confidence she had disappeared the moment Inej entered the room, her optimism, her determination, her faith, everything about the girl made Lilith wonder if she was enough.

The sun shone on the Suli's caramel skin, her black hair was perfectly arranged in a ponytail, even with the wind blowing in from the sea it didn't move, her brown eyes shimmered reflecting the sea water below, her lips slightly open to inhale the salty air were soft, a brilliant colour without the need for chemical or grisha aids.

"Can I count on you?" The Suli asked again, shifting her gaze to the younger one, "Why can't you?" the brunette asked, "Because I don't know when I'll be back." "You'll come back from where?" "Kaz finished paying Tante Helleen..." "You're free..." "And he found a boat, not as big as those, but big enough to let me set sail with a small crew." "When do you leave?" "Tonight, after the eleventh bell." "How long have you known?" "A few weeks, just long enough to find the boat and crew, I wanted to tell you but with everything that's happened I didn't want to make you feel worse." Lilith smiled at the Suli, she knew this moment would come from the moment she had met her, it shouldn't have been a surprise and yet the brunette was at a loss for words, Inej had been the first girl she had met in Ketterdam, since the first time they met she had been the person Lilith had shared the most with and she knew she would miss her.

"I will feed them, don't worry. Promise me one thing, kill the bastards who brought us here for me." "I will make them pay." Inej said, smiling before hugging Lilith.

They both knew Inej would leave without saying goodbye to anyone and Lilith would be too busy with the Crow Club to greet her as she would have liked, but sitting there, legs dangling, hands intertwined, eyes fixed on the horizon and daggers at the ready was what they needed, something familiar and habitual before the change Inej's departure would bring.

"Inej." Lilith broke the silence by moving her hand from her friend's and bringing it towards the sheath attached to her thigh, pulling out a knife and handing it to the Suli, "I want you to have it, a reminder that you will always have someone to return to here." Inej studied the dagger, the black handle had red inserts extending to the blade, a design unknown to Inej covered part of the blade, "Lils..." "Please remember me when you use it." "I will.” The older girl brought the dagger towards her belt drawing one of her own before securing it in it, "Sankta Lizabeta, I know you do not follow faith but we know we both could use their help and blessing.” The dagger was light in Lilith's hands, lighter than her own, she knew why and she knew that the one she had given to Inej had been forged from the same metal, while the others had been forged especially for her, the handle was white, contrasting with the black blade.

The two girls remained on the dock until the sun went down, in silence, each lost in their own minds, until the eighth bell rang, their steps were silent, their movements almost imperceptible, "Don't die." Said Lilith to Suli hugging her, "Don’t perish." replied Inej breaking the embrace and walking towards the harbour.

Towards her boat.

Towards her future.

Tag list: @awkwardbean4337 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

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queenmuzz · 4 years

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Mors aurem vellens, 'Vivite,' ait, 'venio'

You are a young woman, fated to an early grave, divinely sent to become the Priestess of the least popular God of the Pantheon. Vergil, the God of Death.

Chapter One:

Your worn sandals hit the wooden gangplank as you disembarked along with the rest of the passengers, pausing for a brief moment to look at the splendor of the Island of Fortuna. Unfortunately you weren’t the only one eager to make landfall, and your moment of awe was cut short, as the other passengers, mostly pilgrims, pushed behind you, each wishing to experience that same feeling of wonder.

Fortuna… a glistening jewel of an island, a bustling hub of commerce, both of material goods, and immaterial ones. Where most large cities could boast maybe one, or two Temples at most, (the closest city near your village worshiped the Nameless Lady, Goddess of Revenge), Fortuna had the prestige of four separate temples, hence the large numbers of people coming to the city every day on pilgrimage.

The entranceway that the docks funneled pilgrims to was awe-insipring, beautiful white marble walls, with statues of each of the four gods.

Kyrie.... Goddess of Love, and of Song. Many would pray to her to find their soulmate, or to sway the heart of their desired one.

Her consort, Nero … God of Protection, and of the Outcasts. One might pray to him when going on a dangerous journey, and orphans and beggars would pray for his protection.

Sparda …. God of Justice. Those who sought justice in the courts, both civil and criminal, often prayed to him.

And finally, the one you had travelled months for, spent nearly all of your money on, was his wife, Eva … Goddess of Childbirth….and Healing. You marveled at her beautiful lifelike statue that stood there, overlooking the bay, carrying the infant twins Dante, (God of Victory in Battle, and also of Debauchery, his temple lay far to the west), and Vergil (God of Death, his temple was...unknown, as he was not a very popular god to worship.)

Your journey was coming to an end. You would soon be able to make your plea to the Goddess, to plead with her priests and priestesses to aid you. You were running out of time.

Three months ago, you had gone to an oracle of the Goddess of Time and Space, to see what your future would hold, and to find out why you had a persistent cough. The words he spoke chilled you to the bone.

“In two years time, Death will claim you.”

Keep reading, or click HERE to read on Ao3!

Suddenly, everything made sense. Your periods of lightheadedness, your cough, and how simple tasks would now occasionally leave you out of breath. Already, your family was beginning to act as if you were dead, your father and mother occasionally breaking out in tears when they saw you. In an instant, your entire life’s priorities had changed. Instead of looking forward to marrying a young man in the next village, inheriting your parents; farm, and raising a family, all now you could look forward to was to live each day to the fullest, before your inevitable demise.

But…

There might be another way. Perhaps one Goddess’s decree could cancel out another one. And so, you made plans. Your fiance’s family were willing to break up the betrothal. (You were slightly relieved, he was a nice man, but he just wasn’t the man you’d want to spend the rest of your life with) and your own family gave you the money that was to be your dowry. You signed away your share of the inheritance to your family’s farm to your younger brother, for an exchange of gold. And after a celebratory harvest feast, your family sent you on your way, with their blessings, hopes, and prayers. You would either come back hale and healthy, or not at all.

You couldn’t help yourself, at every opportunity, when the bustle of the crowds was not pushing you forward, you stopped and stared at the city before you. Your family was one of the most prosperous in your village, but they might as well have been begging for scraps with the dogs in comparison. Women strode by, wrapped in flowing robes, made of exotic materials, embroidered with gold thread. Men did business, each followed by half a dozen servants, each assigned to a mundane task, such as holding an umbrella to block out the sun, or to carry a parcel of business records. And everywhere, the wealth of Fortuna, no doubt flowing from its temples and the constant throngs of pilgrims, was on display, whitewashed buildings with mosaics made up of semi-precious stones. The sound of clinking coins as both locals and visitors exchanged money for the mundane, and the mystical.

You checked your pouch for what seemed like the hundredth time. Your trip had been taxing, both on your body, and your coin purse. You had just enough for an offering to access Lady Eva’s shrine, and to make your plea for healing. After that? Well, if it was successful, you’d find a way back home, you had skills that would fill your stomach and purchase passage back home, or to wherever your heart took you. (after all your traveling, you’d appreciated the vastness of the world over your tiny little village). Or… you’d spend your final days, penniless and alone.

Slowly, you realized that you’d not be alone in your situation. For even fortunate Fortuna, a city gilded in gold and marble, had a foundation made of rotten wood and crumbling sand. In alley ways scuffled the dregs of society, the forlorn and forgotten residents who could not take part in the bounty that the upper crust enjoyed.

And on even closer inspection, your amazement turned to disgust. For in a city that had a God of Justice, injustice reigned supreme, where unscrupulous vendors sold cheap trinkets for exorbitant prices, while the authorities looked the other way. A city that had a God of Protection, the strong dominated the weak, men in silk robes kicked dust in emaciated beggars faces. And a City that had a Goddess of Love, its residents cared for little besides themselves, and how to attain more wealth, how to exploit the visitors and the underclasses for their own benefit.

You munched on some stale bread, watching with growing horror as the facade disintegrated before your very eyes. The sooner you got out of here, the better. To be stuck on this island would be a death sentence, even if you were healed. But even in such dire straits, you admired the poor people’s resilience, their ability to endure. Not far from you, several scruffy children played knucklebones on the cobblestone, enjoying their life to the fullest, oblivious to their poverty. At least there was some innocence in such a cruel world.

From a distance you heard the sound of neighing horses and metal on stone. The throngs of people, both locals and visitors quickly got out of the way of a chariot going much too fast for such a narrow road. Its driver, a young man, bedecked in gold medallions laughed heartily along with a pretty young wench, dressed in equal finery. They sped along, their black stallion steeds frothing at the bit, uncaring of the danger they put the surrounding pedestrians in. Thankfully, they made such a racket, that nearly everyone was able to get out of their way in time, shouting curses at them as they went past, which were ignored. Even the raggamuffin children, intensely focussed on their game, realized the danger, and quickly scattered to the wind.

Well, all except one. A little girl, no older than ten, her frazzled red hair tied back in a rough ponytail, had either not heard the approach, or didn’t have the speed of her playmates to get out of the way.

Hopelessly, you attempted to run towards her, to get her out of the way, but even you knew there was no way you could have reached her before the chariot, which didn’t slow down at all, collided with her tiny body. And so, with a horrific sound, the girl was trampled underfoot, by four pairs of hooves, and one set of wheels.

You had expected the chariot to stop, or at the very least slow down, but the driver was either unaware, or more likely, didn’t seem to care, as it sped around a corner, one wheel lifting up as it did so. The last thing you heard was the crystal clear laughter of the youth, without a care in the world receding into the distance.

In the following silence, no one made a move towards the girl, in fact, after a few moments of shocked horror, everyone went back to their daily activities, as if nothing had even happened. The sprawled out body of the girl was to them, a piece of trash. At least with her fellow playmates, their disappearance was understandable. But there should be at least one kind soul that had the decency to care about the well being of this small child.

You would be that person, as you used your well worn staff to propel yourself towards the girl. Blood dribbled out of her ear and nose, and she remained still as death, but your fluttering fingers found a faint pulse, and to your great relief, a breath. Still, she was in a bad state, and would need help, if she would have any chance of survival. Quickly, you scanned the meandering group of people, who were watching you, while attempting to look like they WEREN'T watching you.

“Please!” You shouted, and for a moment, everyone froze. “Is there a healer here? Or does anyone know her parents?” After a brief hesitation, everyone went back to whatever more important tasks they had originally set out to do.

“ANYONE!?” You cried out, the smell of the girls blood choking your lungs, “Will anyone help?” No one did. The only response was the small whimpers and moans of pain from the unconcious girl.

Well, if no one was stepping up, you would have to be the one to save her. A farmer’s daughter, you knew all types of cures and treatments, but something like this? This was beyond your skill, most likely beyond the skill of even a physician. And as you looked up, to see the shining marble statue of Eva, her smile radiating down upon you, even from this distance, you realized that there was still a chance to save this flickering flame. Placing your staff on your back, you picked up the limp girl, and made your way to your ultimate destination. Strange, the girl seemed to weigh nothing.

You reached the gilded doors of the temple of Eva, guarded by two men, their bronze armour buffed to a shiny gleam. They were intimidating, but you had to try, for this little nameless girl's sake.

As you attempted to cross the threshold, in unison, their spears crossed, barring your way. You could always have attempted to push past them, but, odds were that the oracle’s prophecy for you would come true much, MUCH quicker.

“Please,” you pleaded, “This child needs healing, she needs Mother Eva’s blessing.”

“None enter this temple without an offering.” Their tone was as unyielding as the door behind them. “God's mercy! This isn’t some scam, a life hangs in the balance!”

The men scowled, and you couldn’t help but pull the child closer, to protect her.

“Fortuna’s laws are clear, the sacred places cannot be sullied by the empty handed.”

There would be no use arguing with them, even in such a dire situation. And so, you came to a fateful decision.

“I… have coin… the pouch on my hip.”

Within a blink of an eye, the one guard snatched it, and began to pour out your literal life savings into his palm, while his comrade kept his spear pointed at you. The greasy clink of coins being counted was the only sound you could hear. The man muttered something intelligible before pocketing the money, the gold being swallowed by billowing reams of cloth.

Without warning, the child was yanked out of your arms, and the guard carried her (far too roughly, in your opinion) into the sanctum. You went to follow, but the remaining guard blocked your path.

“Only those with an offering may enter,” he repeated mercilessly.

You were flabbergasted “B-but that’s all I have! I’m not going to do anything, I just want to make sure she’s alright!”

“Lady Eva looks after those who have made a sufficient gift, now begone!” And using the shaft of his spear, he shoved you to the ground, straight into a dirty puddle.

Part of you wanted to get up and punch him, part of you wanted to try to rush past him in an attempt to see the girl. The cruelty of it all was immeasurable, if the girl made it, she’d wake up alone and scared, and most likely possibly thrown out the moment she recovered.

But what could you do? Here, you had no friends, no connections, and now, most importantly in this wealth obsessed city, no money. And so, with a heavy heart, you attempted to wipe off some of the mud on your cloak, used your staff to pull yourself up, and left to go back to the pilgrim’s hostel, of which you had previously bought a night’s stay. Unless one of the Gods pitied you enough, it would be your last nights in relative comfort. All your travels, everything you had done for the past month...was all for naught. There was no way you could raise enough money for an offering...well, in time anyway. You were doomed.

You sat on the side of your cot, chewing on the last of the bread in your pocket. You wanted to give into despair, to just give up entirely. Tears in your eyes, you fell into slumber, with your only consolation was that the nameless red headed little girl would have a chance at the life you could never have.

The garden was beautiful, more than anything you’d ever seen in your travels. Vines climbed over ancient pillars, their leaves glossy and healthy, while vibrant blue roses bloomed, their sweet scent wafted over a barely there breeze. Statues of couples in romantic postures dotted the landscape, with the centerpiece being a winged man encircling both his arms and wings around his beloved, a woman carrying a harp. The fountain they stood atop of flowed out crystal clear water, which you could have sworn gave out an aroma of its own. What had you done to be invited to such a gorgeous locale? You wracked your mind, trying to think of how you got here, but all your memories of the past seemed to be clouded by fog. And strangely, you didn't seem to be worried about your inability to recall anything.

“Welcome!” A woman’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, and before you, a young woman smiled gently. You could have sworn there had been no one there a moment ago. “I have been waiting for your arrival for quite a while, please, this way.” Her arm, with simple gold bracelets that secured her sleeves, waved over to a set of klinai.

A mahogany table, with bowls of grapes, pomegranates and an assortment of other fruits, as well as a jar of wine, sat between the couches as both you and your host took your seats, and you enjoyed the texture of the cushioning crimson velvet.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, “I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

Her laugh was musical, and entrancing. “No, it’s not you that is at fault. Fate often decrees that we must be patient.” She brushed away her vibrant red hair as she poured you a glass of wine, which you sipped. Whatever vintage it was, this was so good, it seemed out of place for a mere visit.

“Let me clarify,” she said as she plucked a grape from the bunch, “I haven’t been waiting for you specifically, but for someone of your selflessness and charity.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You had no idea what she was speaking of, you were no more,no less righteous than the average person.

“Long have I despaired, for the rich people of my city have grown cold and hard, looking always to themselves than to their fellow men and women, while the poor cannot afford to do anything but focus on their very own survival. It took an outsider, someone not even coming to my temple, to show the charity that I so desperately sought.”

Before you could ask her to explain, a sparkling light enveloped her, almost blinding you, and as it dissipated, the woman had disappeared, replaced by a vaguely familiar child, her red hair in a less frazzled ponytail, dressed in brilliant white robes with a dusting of gold, instead of...rags?

She giggled, waved at you as you began to connect the dots, and with another equally blinding burst of light, transformed back to her adult self.

The cup of wine you held clattered to the ground, spilling its blood red contents upon the ground, as the realization hit, and you quickly averted your eyes, not daring to make eye contact with her. “L-lady Kyrie,” you stammered, terrified. For a mortal to look upon the Divine was a death sentence, “I-i didn’t realize...forgive your humble servant.” You attempted to get off the couch, in order to supplicate yourself, to spare yourself from her wrath, but were stopped by the gentlest touch upon your chin, slowly bringing your face upwards to her beautiful visage.

“What kind of host would I be if I struck down a guest I had invited? She chuckled again, sending tingles up and down your spine, before answering her own question, “a very poor one.” She relaxed back into her couch, “Without hesitation, you aided a stranger, and gave everything you had to save her. Such an action deserves to be granted a boon.”

Instantly, your mind went to the Oracle that had predicted your death. “Can you cure me?” Kyrie may not be the goddess of healing, but she was a Goddess, such a thing should not be beyond her power.

Unfortunately, her expression fell, “Sadly, I cannot. Not even Lady Eva could save you. Even us deities are bound by the decrees of the Lady of Time and Space.” Your heart crumbled. Your journey to somehow heal yourself had been doomed from the moment the oracle had murmured those words, no...most likely since before you were born.

“But…” she said, “I have a way to give you purpose...to hopefully make your final years make an indelible mark,” her hazel eyes were soft and sympathetic. “To the North, where the graves are made of red granite, lies Vergil’s temple. Long has it been forgotten and abandoned, and as much as he would deny it, he needs a priestess, to serve him, to help him remember…”

Remember what? You wanted to ask, but the world seemed to be a bit fuzzier, like a fog was billowing in.

“Make your way to that temple, and be His Priestess” Kyrie spoke, softly, but with the firmness of a sacred order, her face already obscured by mist, “In time, both you, and He will understand…”

A rush of wind, blew over you, and you awoke in a sweat, gasping for air in your cot. Such an intense dream, it had felt so real, but that’s what it all was, merely a dream. The question was, now that you were awake, where were you? Ah, yes… you were in a hostel in Fortuna...dying from an incurable disease and completely...broke?

To your left, glittering under the light of an oil lamp, was a golden coin, leaning against… your old coin purse? How odd, last time you had seen it, it was in that grubby hand of that guard that had cruelly ripped it away from you. And even odder, it looked like it was much fuller than before, as you hesitatingly reached out for it, your eyes widened to the size of platters as gold coins spilled out. Even before you had set out on your journey for salvation, you hadn’t had this much. You looked around rapidly, to see if there was a sign that someone had placed it there, but the only change was a single blue rose, freshly plucked, that lay on the table beside it. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, and you contemplated what it meant in the early morning stillness, your fingers caressing the velvet petals.

Taking a deep breath, you placed the coin purse on your belt, and with the help of your sturdy staff, you got up. You had a long day ahead of you. It was time to leave this island, with all of its corruption...and head…

North.

#Devil May Cry #vergil x reader #God and Goddess Au

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god-i-hate-shmakespear · 4 years

Text

take a step back after moving forward

fic!

Nick smiled, because what else could he do? it was his stringed smile yet, all edges and no wormth. who could blaim him to be honest? it was full of graudge, anger and uncomftrbleness. it always hit diffrent. it depended if he was in a good state of mind to react to this, yet it always pained him to see it. they all hated it. it was a horrible sight, but he had to smile. just to... he didn’t know.try and aluude to an atmosphire of normality? he wasn’t sure.

he watched, all smile and no personality, as Portia took the letter.

it was her tenth letter this week, and it was always sent on an old parchment paper. Nick hated it. he hated it so much.

“well!... it seemed this one is not as long!” she said while holding the letter. her hands already shaking. this sucked

before Nick could say anything Will already took a step up, and snatched the letter from Portia’s weak hands. not giving her a chance to even blink her tears away from sight.

if they could just stop her form getting the mail every morning that will be nice, or better, Will would have actually bothered to wake up to grab it like he promised.

but this wasn’t the time for dealing with Will’s forgetfulness, it wasn’t even 7 am when Nick ran outside, chasing after Portia’s edger steps to get the mail as she walked to the store. excited that the pride center will be open early to get some stuff before pride comes next week, when she stopped by to get the mail from their tiny mail box.

Will didn’t think, he just tore the letter into pecises, they will not be dealing with abusive toxic dads today! and hopefully, not ever again if he has something to say about it! he threw the pecies on the ground stomping on it with his comically large boots that he liked to wear everywhere now. now that he’s more “punk” as he said.

Nick siged at the semi comical sight, as Will, after jumping on the letter for good mesure, slipped and almost crushed to the floor, realising some tiny laugh from the still shoked Portia, while he walked fowood. making sure ti step in Portia’s clear eye sight before giving her a side hug, which she didn’t resipicate, but did lean into. good. some real wormth finally started to leap into him. defeting the last few chills of the still cold morning..

finishing his tirade, Will walked forword as a winner, looking high and mighty with his night goun and the heavy army boots the docks made their signiture sound as he walked towords them, slowing his trimfent walk to look at Portia’s face. which to be fair... Nick have sort of neglected to look, too scared of the emotions that that will bring.

which is where Will comes in. Will’s profession is handeling emotions right on! attackeing them with his cutting words and defensive wit, ready to splinter and et to the bottom of things that shouldn’t be things like political feelings (his own emotions? not as much, but he will run away from them at the same determanation).

without sparing too many looks to his rather anxoies boyfriend, Will looks at Portia’a line of sight as well,and turns his head to the side a little. approching carfully (which was a sudden change from the cutting triamfe walking)and opening his arms

without missing a bit, Portia suddenly left Nick’s side, all but running to Will’s inviting arms, burring her face in his chest.

at that, Nick took his time to leave, he knew that Will and Portia will need some hot coco after this debacle

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“why does it not get easier?”

Will was ready! well... sort of ready anyway, for nything. emotions were tricky, but he was ready for them! ready to emarse himself in everything they will bring!

that’s what he learnd, that was the way to live and remember and to hold and ignore life’s problems, it was to focus on the emotions of peope other then himself. people that are... very importent to him.

but sometimes those people... had a very similer time to him

“easier? im not sure Poa... we both know that life never gets easier”

“but isn’t it supposed to?” she looked up, and oh, suddenly he was transphormed to that time when she hugged him for the first time, all excited and happy after she first moved in, like all of life’s problems suddenly will go away now! the big bad guy is defited! oh wow... they were navie back then, but even then he knew, that things don’t just suddenly get easier... emotions... are hard,and mega scary to explore and to reachek, and she knew that! yet she still loved to belive that she can solve them as easaly as follwong her own heart is.

oh how she inspired him then, she still insipred everyone homestly, the girl was the sole reason that he managed to write him own first poam book! he loved to tacke emotions head on to escape them, but she, in her naive and ruthless optamizim, made him at least to try and see, if its possible even, to try and give the same passion to what lies in his own hear as well.

but with her naive optamisem she ofen forgets. that the first step, ever so easy to her fast legs, is the eaiest one indeed

“i get tierd, i get tierd of the suprises! why the aftermath of choosing to not seeing my father again will just be done already! ‘snif’ its been a whole year now... why am i not... happy?”

“but you are!”

“-why does it look like that with every step forword i take, everything takes two stepps back??”

“because you are fast! you, Portia-” he pused to lightly boop her nose which made her smile gratfully, “-are one of the fastest people i know! taking your stepps with such a vorasity that a whole army could not stop you. always changing, always chasing what is in your heart first, and forgeting that sometimes we gotta deal with things, even after we decided to leave them behiand”

“like your emotions?” she said, suddenly getting a little of her snarkyness back, looking at will without the foginess of tears in her eyes

“like your choices as well too” he shakes his head to the sides he is trying to teach her a life lesson! but as usual, Portia has managed to hit the point to fast, that she looked ahead and applied it to her teacher, the boldness of this girl will kill him one day.

he ignored her little scounching of the nose, not willing but managing to see his point yet again, as he stepped away from her, makig sure to hold her hand all the way, and started moving them back towords the house.

“least i have people to remind meto take a break sometimes ha? all this... things catching up to me, im glad i have someone that helps me to get ahead once again”

ok is she trying to kill her with her adorablness again??? because she will one day, shit. “you want to go inside or not? im sure Nick already made your coco”

“Coco??? fuck yes!” she smiled as she give him once last big hug and run into the house, already giggling her heart out after leaving Will speachless back at the yard. Portia, as usal, cought him off gaurd.

#something rotten!#Something Rotten #portia brooks #Will shakes #friendship #was this written at 2 am? yes #i needed to get some emotions out #plus i love them #Christian Bole #sr #SR!

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tinygenderfluid · 4 years

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So I want to try and start animating but for what I was planning to animate I need a person so I decided to make an oc, idk what to make them look like so I’m just trying out oc generators, most of them are just descriptions but I found a website that generates outfits.

So I thought “oh cool, this can at least help me for insipration”

and I just,

IS THIS HOW STRAIGHT PEOPLE DRESS?????

LIKE, IT’S SO PLAIN?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!

LIKE IDK HOW STRAIGHT PEOPLE DRESS BUT PLEASE SOMEONE TELL ME IT’S NOT THIS?????????

#HELP????#I JUST WANTED TO MAKE AN OC #LGBTQ+

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blueprimal26 · 5 years

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Why you should watch it

Hey there y'all, I wanna do something I’ve never really done before and that is to make sort of a review on the new season of She-Ra that has recently come out. I know, strange right? But after having watched the latest season I just really wanted to get my thoughts out and express how I feel about the season and the show as a whole. As well as giving some of you some interest in maybe watching the show itself.

Now I’m gonna be the first one to admit that I’ve never really thought of She-Ra as anything special. It didn’t start out as a smash hit like VTLD did with it’s first season but I personally found a few plot elements to be very interesting. Such as the origin of the Horde and the The First Ones. But what really bothered me was the huge SJW influence the show seemed to be having, and if you know me you’ll know that I HATE SJW’s with a passion. At many times I felt like the show was gonna go crashing down because of it. But I never let it drive me away from it because the plot kept me invested. I wanted to know how these characters were going to progress as the show went on. But enough of that, I’m not here to rant I’m here to tell you why I like season 3 so much.

Instantly, one of the best things this season does is give a definitive origin for some of the characters. Including an origin of sorts to Adora and Hordak but I’ll talk about him later. We get introduced to new characters and the stakes are raised even higher than before. Shadow Weaver gains a new want for revenge against Hordak and Catra after being imprisoned and abandoned and decides to help the Princesses and the Alliance to achieve this goal. At the same time she reveals to Adora that she doesn’t come from the world of Ethyria(I probably butchered that name). So a majority of the season has us see Adora and the gang trying to find out where she comes from. But the real stars of the season are the villains.

I’ve always felt like Catra has gotten the best character progression in the whole show, and she gets the all star treatment here.During the season Catra gets sent on a suicide mission to retrieve First Ones Technology for Hordak’s experiments because she betrayed Hordak’s trust. Not only does she survive all the way she and Scorpia grow closer as the journey goes on. She becomes ruthless and continues to manipulate others for her own personal gain. I wouldn’t be surprised if she replaces Hordak as the main villain. She has a lot of potential for more grandiose stories down the line. But she wasn’t my favorite part of the season.

It was THESE two mother fuckers. Entrapta was always likable in my opinion. She was smart, full of enthusiasm, always happy to help and go toward new endeavors. But Hordak was always a mixed bag for me. I’ve always had sort of a ‘fetish’ for villains but Hordak always seemed to go below that but I still had hope for his character. And this season did not disappoint. Hordak and Entrapta make such a fantastic duo and as Entrapta continues to help him he starts to grow an appreciation for her. The two start to have a bond of sorts. Now whether that bond will grow into something more is to be seen and something that I’m personally totally down for. Another thing that makes me love Hordak so much is his origin and motivation. Now I want to compare/contrast him with Zarkon from Voltron for a moment.

Although Zarkon is capable of making himself as a threat to the show’s protagonist and that his tragic story allows for us to find sympathy for him he’s never really shown anything that makes him unique. He just seems like your stereotypical villain. The Big Bad Guy who wants ultimate power. I’ve always had a philosophy on what makes a good villain and a great villain. A good villain will simply serve their purpose and doesn’t really become memorable. A great is a villain that is almost relatable. And that is why I believe Hordak makes a better villain than Zarkon.

I’ll keep this explanation short but the basic jist here is that Hordak was at some point discarded and his ultimate goal is literally just to prove to the universe that he isn’t a failure. Even though he himself thinks of himself as a failure; as worthless. That’s why he always gets frustrated when his experiments fail and gives up. That’s why he punishes others for failing him in the end because it always reminds him of how he was eventually discarded because he failed. I myself and many others can relate to that. Who doesn’t want to prove themselves as worth something to the world? Who doesn’t want to find worth in themselves even when the world says otherwise. Everyone. And that is powerful, because although we don’t sympathize with his actions we can sympathize with him personally. Even Entrapta helps him find value in his failure. Because in the end failure is just another word for success. We just have to keep trying.

I hope y’all liked this little review and that I was able to insipre you to watch the show or at least spark an interest. Keep safe everyone and remember to stay blue! 💙

#she-ra #netflix original #tv show #review #hordak #adora #shadow weaver #entrapta #zarkon #voltron the legendary defender #She-Ra Princess of Power #catra #scorpia #why you should watch it #season 3 of she-ra

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writingsbysam · 4 years

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“I hate you” “Ditto” pt. 1

Sarah Maplewood was not having a good day, her presentation partner (for the rest of the year!) was a complete idiot, an utter disaster of a human being. He first walked in holding a Red bull, that she soon found out contained orange soda and coffee as well as half the energy drink. She was so thrown off by the awful drink combo that she was not prepared for the first words out of his mouth,

“So you’re the prodigy, huh?” She sighed and cringed trying to deflect,

“No?”

“That sounds more like a question than an answer, Maplewood,” he teased.

“Well, Leo Diaz was it? Some of us don’t like to be referred to as ‘the prodigy’ like the only thing we’re useful at is being intelligent,” she shot back. He put his hands up defensively,

“I’m only taking this class to graduate, so let’s just get a move on with this presentation alright?” he took out his computer, an old beat up Asus that look it was from 2010 at the latest, and Sarah sighed as she pulled out the brand new MacBook she had been saving up for since the beginning of her freshman year of high school, a year she ended up skipping, but oh well.

It wasn’t like she wanted to skip grades it’s just that her brother David skipped 9th grade too and she always wanted to one up him, even if she was tired of being two years younger than the rest of her class. This made for some awkward encounters her freshman and sophomore years, particularly with boys that liked her. It’s a little weird to have a boy in your class hitting on you and then you have to tell them that you’re 16. Their face would go all red and they’d sputter out an apology. Then most of them swore to protect her like they were siblings, and let’s just say that Sarah doesn’t get picked on anymore. (All the frat boys in the universe would rain hell upon the offender!)

“Alright, Diaz, let’s just get this thing over with,” she sighed, she seemed to be doing a lot of that recently.

It was the dreaded and ever so boring ‘Get To Know Me’ presentation, only this year it was worse because they had partners. And they had to present them to the entire small class that made up ‘Presentations and Public Speaking’ with Professor Miller.

Professor Miller, however, could care less about getting to know them, or anything at all really. He slept through most of the presentations given in his classroom and always gave everyone A’s even if they did absolutely nothing. So Leo signed up for this class as his last English credit figuring that he wouldn’t have to do anything for it and he could just cruise his way into the police academy.

About an hour into sitting in those uncomfortable library chairs Leo started to get antsy, moving around and tapping his pencil on the table. He was done with his portion of the presentation, Sarah however was not.

“Maplewood, are you done yet? How much is there to know about you?” he exclaimed, running a hand down his face.

“Well, Diaz, some of us actually have accomplishments to list. Unlike you, it says to list every academic award you’ve ever gotten and I happen to have 156 of them so it takes some time to enter all of that!” She remarked.

“What?” he burst, “Are you counting the 1st grade spelling bee or something?”

“No, I’m not. If you read the instructions you would know that it said since Freshman year of high school. Or for me, my sophomore year,” she shot back. Leo looked away, sheepish.

“Alright, jeez. Do I have to wait here the entire time or can I go get food,” he laid forward on the table, reaching out at Sarah, “because I’m starving! Let me save myself, Maplewood! Don’t let me starve!” Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Diaz, if I hear one more groan out of you I will- just go,” she relented. Leo walked away. Ignoring the grumbling of her own stomach, she got back to work.

Half an hour later and Leo was still not back, Sarah would worry usually but she was too wrapped up in remembering what was the project that won her a nod from a Nobel Prize-winning physicist.

Three hours later and Sarah was only vaguely aware of the fact that Leo wasn’t back. Her fingers clacked away at the keyboard seemingly faster than the eye could see, her eyebrows were slowly sinking down in concentration, her tongue peaked out of the corner of her mouth an old habit of hers. This was the scene that Leo walked back into, and for a moment he just stopped and stared, which he knew looked creepy. Knowing, almost subconsciously, how many guys would beat him up if he kept standing there, he thumped back into the seat he had abandoned three hours prior.

That broke her concentration immediately. She looked up about to say something to the person who dared to interrupt her furious typing. That was the second she saw Leo. Her lips quirked up for a second, opening her mouth to speak,

“Hey! I thought you went home?” she asked, confused as why he was back.

“Well, dummy, if you were as smart as they all claim, you would remember that I merely went out to get some food,” he put his foot up on the table. She promptly knocked it off.

“Well, it’s only like what? 9? You were only gone for like 15 minutes!” Sarah shot back.

“Sarah, it’s midnight. The library closes in 15 minutes,” he laughed, “How many slides is our presentation now?” She blushed,

“124…”

“And how many of them are just your academic achievements?” he smirked.

“102…” she said sheepishly. He chuckled. He’d heard rumours about the girl who was basically a prodigy, but since she was 19, almost 20 now she wasn’t as much as a ‘prodigy’ and more like the smartest person he’d ever known. He looked down at his hands, almost forgetting that in his three hour break he’d gone to the desert place down the street and picked her up a snack, Diaz style. It was a monstrosity. It was a pink cotton candy burrito, filled with Lucky Charms marshmallows, and then chocolate chips. Leo thought they were the greatest thing in the world.

“Hey, I figured you’d be hungry” a growl from her stomach interrupted him, he laughed, “yep. So I got you this from the place down the street.” He held the burrito up, she looked up at him, saw the burrito, and burst out laughing.

“Diaz, if I eat that my teeth will fall out!” she exclaimed.

“Well, then should I just eat it?” he questioned, knowing she was hungry. She glared at him, a ravenous gleam in her eye.

“No!” she lunged for it, hungry, and not knowing whether or not he’d eat it anyway. He handed it to her, an eyebrow raised.

“So, are you done here? Because Ms. Myrian is about to kick us out for yelling and the fact that she needs to close up,” he said, spotting the librarian walking towards them at a rapid pace.

“Fine!” she relented. As she picked up the stuff she had strewn around her in the hours she had sat there, Leo looked around the library. It was a quaint place, by far not the biggest of the libraries on campus (there were three), with orangish gaslights casting dark shadows on the wall, but it felt like a place to get away from things for a while. He looked around at the students, some he’d never met before, new freshmen if he’d had to take a guess, some that he knew and weren’t very fond of. The sort of people that you look at them and your skin crawls. He then looked at Sarah, someone he probably hated, and made the decision that he can’t just let her walk home by herself. That’s the gentlemanly thing to do right? It’s not that Sarah was helpless either, but it put him in a state of unease just to think about being a woman walking home at night. He could hardly imagine what it would be like to be one, and maybe he just wanted a little more time to even just hang out with Sarah, but whatever. He decided that he was just going with gentlemanly on this one, he still probably hates her, right? He began in a low voice, nearly a whisper,

“Hey, uh Maplewood? I know that you’re a strong independent woman and all that, but the guys at the other table are giving me the creeps, and-”

“You want to make sure I get home alright?” she finished. Leo rubbed the back of his neck and a little laugh escaped his throat. “That’s so sweet,” she teased. She extended her arm to him, having picked up her stuff, “you may. I shall except, my prince.” Leo laughed full heartedly and the people around them gave them weird looks. Leo grabbed his stuff and hooked his arm with Sarah’s. He let go soon after, and Sarah missed the warmth of his arm in hers. (Seriously that boy was like a space heater, even being near him made her feel warm.)

They walked silently across the campus to where Sarah’s car was parked, his was parked on the other side of campus but he didn’t mention that. Leo was on a bit of a look out, the strange feeling prickling the back of his neck once more, setting him uneased.

Arriving at the car, Sarah turned around and faced him, a rare little smile on her face. He noticed she was still holding the cotton candy burrito wrapper from earlier.

“Wanting another one?” he joked, “Me too. They’re almost better than the orange soda cereal combo.” Her face scrunched up in confusion, or disgust he couldn’t tell.

“The what now?” she asked.

“The orange soda cereal combination,” he said, in all seriousness.

“Please tell me you mean separate, and not that you eat your cereal covered in orange soda?” she begged.

The silence was answer enough. The look on her face was definitely disgust. She pinched her nose bridge in between her fingers. She breathed deeply, still wondering what she did in a past life for this to happen to her.

“I hate you.” He’s adorable, but such an idiot!

“Ditto.” She’s way too cute to be so uptight!

“I’m surprised you know that word,” she said.

“Hey!” he exclaimed. She opened her car door and got in laughing.

“Goodnight, Diaz,” she said, shutting the door. She started the car and drove off into the night, Leo standing there on the curb.

“Goodnight, Sarah,” he said, preparing for the long walk back to his car, and wondering how a girl he hated could leave him wondering when he was going to see her next.

The answer to that was a week from that night, in their first presentation class (the first one had been online instructions with who your partner was and their email).

He was sitting in the back ready to nap at the moment the lights went down, but right before the lights went off he heard the door open. He’d been looking for Sarah earlier but couldn’t see her blonde head anywhere. Someone sat down next to him, just as the lights went down. He gazed blearily at the woman in the chair next to him, lifting his head from the piled up sweatshirt on the small desk in front of him. It took him a whole 20 seconds to register that the woman was Sarah.

“Maplewood? Out of the two of us I was the one on time?” he asked, “the world must be ending.” Sarah looked down at him, his brown hair mussed and his wide brown eyes barely open. He was cute, she had to admit that. He was also an idiot, she had to admit that too.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s over. I’ll throw something at you though,” she joked, nudging him with her arm.

“I’ll take what I can get,” he mumbled, and then in about two seconds, he was out cold. Sarah laughed softly as Professor Miller didn’t notice that at least half of his students were napping in their chairs.

The lecture ran on and on and on, Professor Miller’s own ‘Get to Know Me’ presentation running nearly the length of class. By the end of class, with maybe two minutes left, Prof. Miller was done and she kicked Leo in the shin. And yeah, she could’ve woken him up in a normal way, but she had a chance to mess with him and she wanted to.

“Ow! Maplewood! Why?” he groaned as he pulled his shin up to his chest, but by doing that he knocked his stuff on the floor, papers going flying. Sarah was barely able to catch his computer, though she seriously considered dropping it so he might get a new one, but she grabbed the computer anyway, saying to herself that she’d just convince him to get a new one.

The entire small lecture hall turned to look at them. Both of their faces went tomato red. Sarah immediately pointed at Leo,

“It’s Diaz’s fault! He knocked his stuff everywhere!” she said.

“You kicked me in the shin!” he shot back.

“Yeah, to wake you up, dummy. Unless you wanted to sleep through all the rest of your classes!”

“I have Honors Calc after this, that was the plan,” he said, gathering the last of the papers.

“You have Honors Calc? The man who puts orange soda in his cereal instead of milk? You are unbelievable!” she threw her hands up into the air. ‘Seriously, how could one man so irresponsible have Honors Calc! He couldn’t even spell Luxembourg! Or write a sentence that was not a grammatical abomination!’

“Says you! You have no grasp on the concept of time! You spent three hours just writing down your academic achievements!” he exclaimed. ‘I mean she spent three (three!) hours just writing down her academic achievements, and she thought it had been 15 minutes!’

“I hate you,” she sighed, throwing her hands onto her face and giving up.

“Ditto.” The crowd dispersed, and Leo ran to honors Calculus. Sarah walked calmly to Game Theory, she’d read the entire textbook over the summer.

Taking into account that she hated making bad impressions on people Sarah walked a little faster. Not much, but the pace went from ‘leisurely stroll’ to ‘brisk walk’. It was not Leo’s ‘oh shit I’m going to be late dead sprint™’.

Strolling into Game Theory, the second class she was nearly late for today, she sat down in the back, pulling out the paper she was reading on ‘The Periplus of Erythraean Sea’. (Not the translated version, it was in Koine even which was a nice change of pace from the horribly choppy Lacedaemonian dialect of Tyrtaeus.)

Sometimes Sarah would come across a word that she didn’t recognize, it was Koine but it was still a strange dialectal pattern that suggested that the author had learned Egyptian (Or Coptic) first. Sarah filed that thought away for her next project, and or future thesis ideas. If she decided to get her Physics doctorate and her Classics one too. She already had completed her bachelors in Economics, and that might be a good tie in with maybe having an extremely confident theory on where the land of Punt was. (The northern part of Somalia, more specifically around Opone.)

By the end of Game Theory, which Sarah was hardly paying attention to, she was exhausted. Walking out of class her mind went to the one thing that could shake her out of Greek declensions, caffeine and someone to talk to. She had one of those things, there was a vending machine with a rainbow collection of Bangs standing in rows. The other one was a little bit tricky, there were the Classics students that were in her class last year. Henry, Alexander, and the Three C’s, Carissa, Carmen, and Cassandra. (They made fun of Cassandra endlessly, asking her when we could meet Apollo and ‘how’s seeing the future Cass?’ ‘How’s my date with Theo going to go?’ the answer was horribly, he wanted to go to a barrel museum, and that was too boring for even Sarah!)

They were all a little stuck up, even though they were the closest people to friends she had, but Sarah decided she needed normalcy, she wasn’t interested in talking about Aristotle today anyway. Maybe tomorrow. That left the business kids, the science kids, and her presentation class.

The business kids are the worst, they all (especially here at the Academy!) were stuck up rich kids whose only qualifications were that they knew how to suck up to people. They were simply here to get the ‘correct qualifications’ for their daddy’s jobs and to party.

The science kids were not much better, they would never stop talking about their hypotheses and the new papers that came out. Plus half the time they were working in the Research Nuclear Reactor and Sarah just wasn’t ready to see who wasn’t manning Little Blue today. (It’s named Little Blue after the Cherenkov’s radiation that makes it blue.)

That left her presentation class, which was not much better since she only knew Leo from that class. Oh, god Leo.

Leonidas Diaz was the most annoying person on planet Earth. Sarah wasn’t quite sure about what irked her about him, but it was something major. It might be that in their two meetings she’s been handed a cotton candy burrito, knocked his stuff all over the ground, been the object of mocking for said disaster, and she couldn’t stop thinking about him!

Determined to find someone to talk to she didn’t notice that her Bang had been released from the vending machine. Someone cleared their throat behind her.

“So, Maplewood, are you just going to stand there all day?” they said.

“Ορίστε?” (Pardon?) she asked.

“I said, Maplewood, are you just going to stand there all day?” the decidedly male voice asked. She then turned around. It was Leo.

“Oh! It’s just you, Diaz. Sorry I thought someone was being weird again. The freshmen are creepy!” she rambled. Leo frowned.

“What do you mean freshmen are creepy?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“You know just normal stuff, catcalling, some staring, the occasional whistle, it was worse when I first came here,” she shrugged, like it was no big deal. Leo, however, was horrified. Even if he hated her as a person, he was still worried about her as a fellow human being!

“That’s normal! And you were 16 when you started here!” he burst, volume several decibels too loud. People look and stared at what the commotion was. Leo was throwing his hands around trying to explain how that wasn’t ‘normal’ and Sarah cut him off.

“You’ve clearly never thought about why women always go to the bathroom in packs, all with their drinks, and why we keep tallies of how much we drink at parties? Or why I go to Taekwondo?” she raised an eyebrow at him. His brown eyes were full of only slightly contained fury. He was angry, and Sarah was surprised that such a happy go lucky guy to be this angry about stuff people like him did all the time!

“Well, I always just thought they were being weird,” he admitted, “and I didn’t know you went to Taekwondo. That’s pretty cool actually,” he said.

“Thanks, Diaz,” she said, getting ready to leave and give in to going to Little Blue. As she turned to leave, he said,

“Wait, Sarah. Is there any place we could go and you could teach me about what happens and what I can do?” he asked. Sarah smiled.

“I think Ms. Myrian wouldn’t mind if we used one of the Library’s quiet rooms,” she said.

They talked as they walked to the library, he insisted on carrying her backpack for her, which to be honest was a relief since she had four enormous textbooks in there, plus her own books. She’s also not the strongest person on the planet.

Leo’s shoulder started to hurt about halfway there, it was fine. He didn’t really need to feel his right arm anyway. He looked down at Sarah, she was sipping the Bang in her hand like it was water from the Fountain of Youth.

“So what were you doing just staring at the vending machine? Was it telling you its secrets? Do you know the language of the vending machine? How do I get free food?” he teased.

“Well, I was trying to remember what type of ships they would have used to cross the Indian ocean in Roman times, it’s a Corbita, by the way. I’d almost completely forgotten it, but then you interrupted my train of thought. It turns out I was thinking in Koine, because when you startled me I asked you ‘Pardon?’ but in Koine Greek. And if you want free food from the vending machine one of the computer science majors hacked it so that the code of what you want followed by a secret code give you free food,” she listed off.

“What’s the code, Maplewood?” he asked.

“Well, what’s in it for me, Diaz?” she shot back, pushing him away by the arm.

“The rest of the year I’ll split the presentation work with you exactly 50/50, and I’ll let you go over my stuff and fix what you want?” he bargained. This was a golden deal, and he knew it. For one, he knew that in group projects she always ended up doing 75-90% of the work herself and then going over the rest too. Second, he knew that she was a control freak at heart and that she desperately wanted to go over all his work to make sure it was correct.

“Alright, Diaz,” she stuck her hand out for the deal-sealing handshake. They shook on it, and then Sarah’s phone went off.

“Crap! It’s Theo! What do I do?” she muttered to herself. Theo was her boyfriend, the boring one that wanted to go to the Barrel Museum, for the 42nd time. She could tell you who made every barrel in that museum and who they were related to.

She ignored the call. She didn’t want to deal with him. Leo looked at her, incredulous. He whistled,

“Damn, Maplewood, what did he do?”

“Being the most annoying person on planet Earth,” she answered.

“Even more annoying than me?” he fake pouted. She laughed and her phone went off again, it was Brian, one of the graduate students in charge at the reactor. She sighed and mouthed ‘I hate you’ as she picked up the phone.

“Ditto,” he mouthed back.

A minute later she was off the phone, looking slightly panicked but also majorly annoyed. He shot her a look.

“What’d that guy want? And who was he?” he asked.

“It was Brian, a grad student working at the reactor. They need a particle physicist ‘at the site immediately’, like he isn’t also one of those!” she exclaimed.

“Well sounds like going to the library is off, how far away is it even?” he asked.

“A mile or so… the other way of my car,” she said, running a hand over her face.

“I’m parked over here, I can actually see my car from here. I can give you a ride over there, if you want that is?” he offered. Sarah weighed her options. “They did say it was urgent, and who knows what urgent means at a nuclear reactor, even if it is a way powered down one that’s not at risk of melt downs?” he said, reasonably.

“Fine, let’s go,” she said.

“Race you!” he called, taking off. Sarah, not one to be beaten, took off after him, laughing the whole way.

They got to his car in under a minute, both out of breath and panting. Leo’s car was a piece of junk. It was also really dirty. Leo blushed as she opened the door.

“Sorry about the mess, I’ve been so busy with starting the year that I haven’t had the chance to clean up the summer accumulated garbage!” he joked, rubbing the back of his neck as he got in the car and started it. He pulled out of the parking lot, driving using the directions Sarah had given him.

“If it’s any consolation I found a book I lost my sophomore year in my car like two days ago. To be fair, it was a book that I hated and made fun of constantly, but still a book! That’s blasphemy!” she joked.

“Blasphemy!” he exclaimed, “Blasphemy indeed!” Sarah laughed and turned up the stereo, and the opening chord to “A Hard Day’s Night” blasted out of the speakers. His car may be a piece of junk but at least he splurged on the speakers.

“It’s been a hard day’s night, and I’ve been working like a dog!” she sang along quite loudly, and to be fair she didn’t have a bad voice but she wasn’t trying.

“When I’m home, feeling you holding me tight!” they both sang, “it’s been a hard day’s night, and I’ve been working like a dog!..” they exploded into giggles. The song was over far too quick, but then the opening riff of “I Feel Fine” started. Sarah broke into song more than before. She air guitared the solo, bobbing her head to the beat.

“That her baby buys things you know, he buys her diamond rings you know, she said so!” she belted.

“I’m in love with her and I feel fine!” he finished. The song faded out and they were at the reactor.

“Well, this is it, McCartney,” she teased as she got out.

“Are you calling me the cute one?” he laughed. She sighed.

“I still hate you!” she exclaimed. He parked the car.

“Ditto,” he laughed. She walked away, but Leo couldn’t bring himself to leave, so he pulled up Netflix on his phone, searched for ‘feminism’ and sat in for the long haul.

He was asleep when she came out of reactor, bracing herself for the long walk back to the university in the dark. Her keys were at the ready and she steeled her nerves as she reviewed everything her instructor told her, but then she noticed Leo’s car. He waited for her! It’d been four hours since he’d dropped her off! She was amazed, and walked up to the car. He was asleep!

“Diaz?” she said quietly, opening the door.

“Sarah?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes, “What time is it?” she look down at her phone.

“Seven thirty-two,” she said, “did you wait for me the entire time?” He shrugged.

“Yeah. I watched a documentary on Feminism, and then I watched Raiders of the Lost Ark for about the seventieth time. I fell asleep about halfway through,” he yawned, “let’s get you back to campus, so that we can all sleep.”

“Alright, I’m in parking lot D,” she leaned back for the quick drive back to actual campus. The stereo was on ever so slightly and Sarah found herself humming, almost subconsciously, along to it.

Leo made a good friend, she decided. She needed to hang out with him more. He made her laugh, he was an annoying little shit, but he was also a nice person who didn’t immediately write her off as ‘little miss genius’.

They were at her car by the end of the song, she stepped out and laughed,

“Thanks, by the way.”

“Of course,” he replied, like wasting four hours waiting for a girl he barely knew to finish working at a nuclear reactor was not a big deal.

“I still hate you,” she said, smiling. She didn’t, not really.

“Ditto,” he replied with a smile. He didn’t, not really. She got into her car,

“Goodnight, Leo.”

“Goodnight, Sarah.” He drove away, the stereo playing pianissimo.

“She loves you! Yeah, yeah, yeah!”, the Beatles crooned on in the background.

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