#it may be destructive when it hits a certain level but he finds it so adorable that this stone cold boy CARES

[aithusarosekiller]

I love a regulus who cares too much

Outwardly he's all proud and holier-than-thou but in his mind he's constantly running through the experiences of other people and generally just caring too much

Sirius teases him for it all the time because he's one of the only people who notices it

He's a people pleaser but it's to a dangerous level. He'll never go against his mother because he's scared of hurting her feelings and he doesn't think she deserves that. He'll stick up for Kreacher because he can't fathom loyalty being rewarded with pain. He's so 'soft and malleable' because he doesn't want to ruin anyone else's quality of life.

When he becomes a death eater one of the things that quickly turns him away is the realisation that his views and actions are directly harming people. Because of his brainwashing prior to it he thought that joining would help people like him live better lives and feel safer but he never considered those they opposed and their lives. When he looks at the people he's meant to kill he sees that they have lives and families and feelings and he can't do it. He thinks about who they are outside that moment and makes himself feel ill. That's when he starts looking for a reason to leave. Not for himself, but because he's too emotional for it. He want tell him family because he doesn't want to disappoint them the way Sirius did- they've been through enough he can't possibly put them through that feeling again.

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Quake (2018)

I never thought I’d see a sequel to The Wave - one of the best disaster movies I've ever seen. When I heard about The Quake, I shook my head. “How often can one man find himself in the middle of a disaster?” Nevertheless, I gave the film a chance and now, I’ve got to hand it to writers John Kåre Raake and Harald Rosenløw-Eeg. This is a good sequel. It follows the characters’ stories in a believable way. While it isn’t on the same level as the first, fans of the 2015 film should check out this second story.

Following the events of The Wave, Kristian Eikjord (Kristoffer Joner) is hailed a hero by newspapers but remains paralyzed by guilt - he failed to save so many. His marriage to Idun (Ane Dahl Torp) has fallen apart, he and his son Sondre (Jonas Hoff Oftebro) have become estranged. While trying to make amends with his daughter, Julia (Edith Haagenrud-Sande), he looks into some notes an old colleague sent him. They warn of an impending quake that’s sure to hit Oslo.

I should clarify Kristian's now-deceased former colleague sent him the notes knowing - based on his previous exploits - that he would take them seriously and investigate whether the numbers made sense. They do, meaning there is a quake coming… eventually. One of the reasons this film isn’t as good as the first is the pacing. On its own, it’s fine. All of the time spent with the characters allows you to know them and care about their safety when they are in peril. The pressure builds as the numbers are tallied and the scale of the catastrophe is measured. It’ll be beyond anything the country’s ever seen. Problem is, we’ve already kinda seen these scenes in The Wave. Not quite, but kinda. You know the characters, you “get” them. When’s the titular quake going to start?!

The drama featured throughout is genuine and often, heartbreaking. As someone who's seen Kristian at his most heroic, it's hard seeing him broken. Julia isn't so little any more. Story-wise this means she can be a more active character, which ups the stakes. For Kristian, she's the one member of his family he might be able to hold onto. Oslo is much bigger than Geiranger and there’s personal drama among the Eikjord family. We want them to be a family again - maybe this disaster will be just the thing to do it?

Everything you want from an earthquake disaster film is here. The scale may not be as big as something like San Andreas but that’s what makes it better. You believe this scenario. The characters make logical decisions and you can see that they stand a chance. At the same time, the realistic scale makes the danger genuine. Most of the post-quake peril is found in a partially collapsed building - a great setting for one nail-biting sequence after another. It’s so big and nerve-wracking it winds up throwing you off. When the film cuts to Sondre off on his own at the University, I was certain it was to set up a big second calamity… but it really doesn’t. It's more realistic but I might’ve liked a bit of fantasy to get three big scenes, instead of just two.

In this pair of disaster films, The Wave is the main course. The Quake is a nice follow-up; the desert. It’s got all the pieces required to make a great disaster movie. The destruction, the drama, the writing, the tension, the special effects and the performances needed to make it both convincing and engaging. If you see one, check out the other, with the caveat that the first is the better movie. (Original Norwegian with English Subtitles, July 5, 2019)

[canon-fcdder]

"I told you I swore off dating girls. I figure from now on it'll just be me and you. Things always seem so easy when it's just the two of us." (scott for wallace once he's gotten over his breakup) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @shining-stxrs 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Wallace tries to hold back his laughter, choking on it with a blatant sputter. Disguising it as a cough into a closed fist, it's a poor attempt at subtlety... and oblivious as Scott may be a times, Wallace is pretty sure he'd have to hit a WHOLE new level to fall for such a flimsy deception. Can't blame a guy for trying though. So he abandons the act with a somewhat apologetic grin, teetering more on a pitying grimace. Certain Scott believes what he's saying in the moment, but not buying it for one second.

❝ I mean— yeah, you did tell me. But... C'mon, guy. Lets look at the facts here. ❞ Wallace begins, wondering if he's about to screw himself out of what he's been wanting for years. Sure, Scott says he is swearing off girls for him. But there's a difference between being ❛ exclusive fuck-buddies ❜ and being... More. A difference between settling for what he thinks is all he can have and actually choosing Wallace. As much as he's internally kicking himself for tossing away an opportunity like this, he knows it'll only hurt more in the long-run if he doesn't. He's fine with playing pretend... to an extent.

But even HE'S not self-destructive enough to let this happen.

❝ You're always bouncing back and finding new girls to crush on. This time isn't going to be any different. Sure, right now you're having a good time. You get to pal around with your best friend, even get to fuck him... Which I KNOW is an amazing experience. ❞ He's never had a complaint yet. ❝ It's a change of pace and a nice distraction from your previous heartbreak. But eventually, you're going to stumble across some girl and get those dorky butterflies in your stomach and— you'll want to date her. You're going to want a relationship. Not just sex. ❞

He forces himself to hide the heaviness in his chest at that thought, deflecting with a laugh and dry joke, ❝ Just do me a favor and give me your two-weeks notice when that happens, alright? So I can wean myself off of getting wrecked by your surprisingly-competent dick. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[avid-avian-lives]

Lizzie meets Martyn

Dog hadn’t had any meaningful expectations when it came to the last few days before the end of the world, but he never could have expected what he got.

Form shapes nature. There are certain behaviors that are typical of small dogs simply because it is encoded into their genes. Dog’s Master, Lord Martyn, formerly known as Death, Destroyer of Worlds, hadn’t been doing much in the way of world-level destruction. Since Dog was no longer a raging Hellhound, he was given a good deal of free time to spend bothering cats and searching for crumbs. Upon meeting Pearl’s dog, Tilly, he had tried to reduce her to ash by way of the usual smoldering glare, but when that didn’t work, the pair hit it off and became close friends. Tilly was happy to show him the most interesting parts of Tadfield, tagging along with Them in all their adventures.

Form shapes nature, and Dog’s nature was changing.

On Dog’s third day in Tadfield, he and Martyn went to investigate Critter Cottage on a mission delegated by Them. Martyn was surprised to find that on the lawn was a woman with pink hair and space buns who was smashing flower pots in her frustration.

“‘Scuse me,” Martyn said.

He tilted his head in a way that implied a question without asking.

“It’s dumb,” she said. “I just… I lost my book. It’s been in my family for over three hundred years, and I lost it.”

“I could help you look,” he offered. “I’m Martyn Littlewood. I live on Sahara St.”

“Lizzie. Lizzie Shadow. I’m just visiting. Are you from around here?”

“This is my world, from the fields to the forests and from the quarry to the pond,” Martyn said, pointing to their respective locations.

“So you know the area really well?”

“Better than anybody, I reckon.”

“Have you seen two men in a black car?”

Martyn’s eyes lit up. “Book thieves!” He put on a noir detective voice. “I’ll take the case.”

“They didn’t steal it! Or, at least, they didn’t mean to. But if you haven’t seen them, they may have left.”

“Could be,” Martyn said. “I wrote a book once. It had cowboys and pirates and dragons, so it was probably a whole lot better than any book you’ve lost.” He declined to mention the long, spiraling description of a boy falling endlessly through blank space that he did not remember writing.

Lizzie laughed. She decided that she liked Martyn. If she had been in full control of her mind at the time, she may have realized that any thoughts about him that tried to go beyond her superficial first impressions simply slipped from her mind. No one was in full control of their mind around Martyn. “Do you want some lemonade?” she offered.

Martyn, like every other child from the town, had been raised by overly cautious parents who repeated the words “Stranger Danger” at every opportunity. Martyn, however, was not in the habit of being afraid.

“Sure,” he said. “We can battle the witch in the cottage to get it.”

Lizzie hesitated. “That’s my cottage. But I’m not a witch. I’m an occultist.”

“Oh,” Martyn said. “That’s alright, then.”

But Dog wouldn’t enter the cottage.

There had been a horseshoe above the door of Critter Cottage for hundreds of years. Previous residents during a large plague thought it would help keep them safe. They were, of course, wrong, but horseshoes above doorways do have strength in blocking Hellish forces such as reformed Hellhounds.

However, Dog could not ignore the call of Lord Martyn, who commanded him to enter. None of them noticed the horseshoe cooling as a little bit of Hell burned away.

—

Martyn decided that he liked Lizzie.

She was nice to him, for a start. She was old in the eyes of an eleven-year-old, but she wasn’t really old, not like his parents or R.P. Tyler. She was like a high schooler or someone cool like that. Plus, she knew all sorts of interesting things.

Turns out that an occultist wasn’t an eye doctor, contrary to Martyn’s first thought. Lizzie was sort of like a witch; she saw people’s auras and could detect ley lines and had a box of notes in old-timey language that Martyn struggled to interpret. She was not just cool; more importantly, she was interesting. 

She hadn’t been able to see Martyn’s aura, though. And that seemed to worry her.

It was only when Martyn wondered aloud that his schooling hadn’t taught him nearly as much as Lizzie had that things became really interesting.

“School is an oppressive tool of the state,” Lizzie said, “so they won’t teach you about things that matter, like nuclear power stations, which we have to get rid of.”

This piqued Martyn’s interest. He liked knowing things more than he liked learning, and it certainly felt like his classes in school didn’t matter. Additionally, he had visited a nuclear power station once, and it had been far less interesting than he thought it would be, severely lacking in any bubbling vats or unnaturally bright colors. From that moment through the end of the conversation, he latched onto every word.

Lizzie believed in things. She believed in saving turtles and whales and all sorts of exotic species Martyn had never heard of. She believed in whole grain breads and recycled paper and local businesses and getting colonizers out of colonized areas. She believed that oil companies were destroying the environment, that meat packaging companies were destroying the environment, that steel companies were destroying the environment, and that fashion companies were, you guessed it, also destroying the environment. She did not believe in world leaders or large governments, and she hated any form of military. She believed in power to the people; more specifically, she believed in power to the youth. She was one of those people who is an odd cross between a pessimist and an optimist, but she had the extra layer of being very aware that the end of the world was mere days away, though she didn’t share this with Martyn.

Having been given limited internet access, Martyn was not aware of the things she spoke about. He had vaguely heard of environmental issues, but in truth, he had not recognized enough of the words used in these discussions to concern himself with them. South American rainforests were a closed book to Martyn, and it wasn’t even made of recycled paper.

Lizzie believed in things in a very intense way. She didn’t have beliefs so much as she had one enormous, amorphous belief in a great many areas that she had melded into one. On any scale of mountain moving, she could move at least half an Alp. However, Martyn could move anywhere between two and fifteen thousand Everests.

Lizzie, unaware of this, thought nothing of letting Martyn borrow a few issues of the Hermiton Herald, a magazine she had never read and only subscribed to in support of a friend who was one of its editors. He had been drawn to the interesting covers depicting deep-sea monsters and sunken continents and UFOs and the eye-catching headlines blaming everything on the government. And so, he left Critter Cottage with an armful of conspiracy magazines and two pockets of organic candies.

It may have helped the situation if Lizzie had realized exactly why she couldn’t see Martyn’s aura. It was the same reason why people in Times Square can’t see America.

[cosmicaddress]

Earth, air, fire, water, the hand of god

There are many ways to kill a vampire, all risky and all requiring special efforts. Incapacitating a vampire is somewhat easier; all that takes is decapitation. The vampire creature mimics the human host in many ways, including developing the vampire brain in the human host’s head. Decapitate a vampire, and you cut his intelligence from the rest of his body.

The missing head has little material with which to work its evil will, and the flopping mindless remainder is much easier to handle. Decapitation requires that a character with a bladed weapon aim for the neck.

If that is done, the vampire’s head takes a brief vacation from the rest of his body. Beware, however, a vampire’s body, if it finds its own head, knows how to put it back on! Therefore, to kill a vampire, one must kill the creature within.

Permanently.

To kill a vampire permanently requires the assistance of any or all of the following:

Earth

Silver and iron are metals that have a detrimental effect on the Wamphyri. In the proper proportions, silver and iron debilitate a vampire; he cannot move chains made of such an alloy, he cannot cross a barrier they form. Pure iron does not appear to affect the Wamphyri when used as a weapon—at least no more effect than any other metal—but silver is another matter entirely. Silver poisons Wamphyri like mercury or lead poisons humans. When a silver blade hits a vampire, he suffers the shock and does not ignore the first wound done by the weapon. However, there is not enough silver left behind in the wound to affect the creature with poison.

Air

Okay, so air itself doesn’t harm vampires. But air is essential to life, and certain living things are known to sicken or poison vampires and certainly help in their disposal. And one of them makes the air smell bad.

Garlic sickens vampires, makes them ill. One good way to weaken a vampire is to smear blades or spears with garlic oil, or better yet, take hollow-point ammunition and press mashed garlic into the hollow tip of the bullet. Unfortunately, after the first successful attack with garlic-poisoned swords and spears, there is usually not enough garlic oil left on the weapon to continue to have the same effect.

Fire

Fire, pure chaos and entropy incarnate, is another force that destroys vampires permanently. Fire alone is enough to ensure their destruction, but only a fire they can’t escape. Rest assured that if there is a way out of the fire, a vampire will find it. That’s why the stake and cleaver are so often used in conjunction with fire; they help to keep the vampire still while you roast him alive. Of course, stakes themselves have a habit of burning. Alive, vampires burn slowly, and soon the vampire within can no longer rely on the host body's boiling fats to protect it from the inferno.

Water

As with humans, for the Wamphyri, water is both a necessity and a hazard. Without moisture, be it blood or water, a vampire can desiccate and calcify, leaving its spirit trapped forever in a stony corpse permanently bereft of motion.

There is no hope for a vampire who suffers such a fate. On the opposite end, left underwater long enough, a vampire can drown. It may be that the vampiric protoflesh lacks enough power to resist the osmotic pressure of water and eventually dies on a protocellular level.

The Hand of God

God, and therefore Nature which is God’s handiwork, are also set opposed to the Wamphyri. The Wamphyri will not voluntarily enter holy places, be they churches, cathedrals, mosques, or shrines. When circumstances force such to happen, the forces of nature attempt to deny the occurrence, even to the point of spontaneously generating fierce windstorms, hail, and tornadoes when none could exist.

Holy items also do more damage to vampires than one would think, assuming they are genuine artifacts and that the person wielding them has true faith. The most common item used is holy water, but that is simply because those churches possessing authentic holy relics are loathe to give them up.

[dancingamongstdust]

MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 4)

Requests are still open as of this post.

Shigaraki

You hadn’t meant to cause that level of destruction. It was an accident.

But they hadn’t seen it that way.

Their words followed you even when they could not. You could hear the accusations ringing in your head whenever you used your quirk – for better, or for worse. It became easier to ignore as you slowly learned to stop caring.

Until your quirk went out of control again.

You woke up in a dark room with a pounding headache and exhausted limbs. The doctor who was looking after you (a man you were relatively certain had no actual medical knowledge) had gotten very close and asked how much you remembered. When you informed him that it wasn’t much, he had smiled.

“Well, you certainly drew attention to yourself,” he had laughed. “Perhaps you should consider yourself lucky that the heroes didn’t get to you first.”

“I guess so…”

Something warned you that this situation was more dangerous than it seemed. Your eyes drifted over the covered windows of the room and you stared at the door. “Why did you help me?”

“Well that’s hardly for me –“

He didn’t get a chance to answer before you dashed for the exit. The doctor’s quirk didn’t allow him to grab you and his alarmed shout was all you heard before you were darting down the hallway. You weren’t going to stick around and get experimented on.

You turned the corner, heart pounding in your chest. They must have given you something because you felt drowsy. The entire world was spinning.

But you had to nearly trip yourself up to avoid running directly into somebody as you sprinted down a different hallway.

This was hardly your first time dealing with villains and many of them had odd quirks, to say the least. It shouldn’t have shocked you to see somebody with a human hand on their face but maybe the medication was lowering your tolerance because it was terrifying.

“Who are you?” you snapped out, immediately on the defense. You took a step away, ready to run or fight, whichever seemed easiest.

The man didn’t seem too bothered by your snap at least; the one eye that you could see watched you steadily from behind his hand mask. “I’m sure you’re not meant to be running around here,” he said. “But you’re no hero so you must be here for your quirk. Do you still have it?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

It wasn’t unknown in the underground that there was a man who stole quirks he liked. Nobody knew what he did with them but it wasn’t unheard of for villains to wake up with nothing. And you would never get them back.

You could feel your quirk was still there. It pulsed under your skin like a warning.

“My quirk?” you repeated. “I have my quirk.”

You did a random gesture, summoning all of your past acting experience to appear horrified when nothing happened. Again and again you tried before looking around in shock and horror.

The guy bought it and he shrugged. “Then there’s no reason to stop you.” He brushed past you and continued walking. “Not like you could find the exit anyway.”

The moment he turned the corner, you dropped the act and bolted again. This place was a maze but you found the exit and avoided any encounters with a practiced ease. Before leaving, you looked back up at the building and grimaced, hoping to never see it again.

Toga

It was late at night when you had the strangest encounter of your life. Not that that was a bad thing necessarily but it was something that occurred, nevertheless.

You had been feeling quite exhausted from a long day of fun with your friends. They had headed off to get a cab when you had realised that you needed the bathroom and disappeared to go find one.

There was a public toilet not too far from the street though it certainly wasn’t as clean as you would have hoped. Not to be deterred, you slipped in and found a sight that, even to your exhausted mind was uncomfortable.

A girl stood in front of one of the mirrors, blood staining much of her face. It covered the counter beneath her fingers and seemed to be coming from her lip.

“Are you okay?!” you asked, panicked.

She looked up at you, startled. Her dark hair covered much of her expression but she seemed a little out of it. Maybe she got hit on the head or something.

“I –“ she paused, her voice croaky and sore. She brought her hand up to rub her throat. “I think so.”

“Just wait, let me help you,” you said. You rushed into one of the stalls and gathered up some toilet paper. “Do you need me to call somebody or?”

“No,” she said quickly. “No. Thank you.”

You offered some of the damp tissue to her and she started wiping it away from her mouth. While she dealt with that, you cleaned the blood that she had left on the counter, making sure to get it out of all the cracks in and around the sink. “What happened to you?” you asked. “Did somebody attack you?”

“I slipped,” she said. “The tiles are really slippery and I think that I hit my mouth on the sink. It’s all kind of blurry.”

“Don’t worry,” you said, digging through your bag and grabbing some headache tablets. You offered the bottle to her. “Take two of those just in case. Even if it doesn’t hurt now, you don’t want to wake up with a headache tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Do I still have any blood on me?”

“Just on your jaw,” you pointed out. “Come on, my friends and I are getting a cab. We can call one for you also if you need.”

She took one last glance in the mirror before leaving. You had forgotten your own need for the bathroom and it was for good reason also. If you had hung around for a little longer, you may have seen blood trickling out from one of the stalls. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have been so worried about this stranger hitting her head.

“What’s your name?” you asked as you looked around for your friends.

“Toga,” the girl said, though she didn’t seem too happy with having told you. The words must have slipped out without her meaning to.

You gave her your own name and went up onto your toes to look around the crowd for your friends. Eventually you spotted them and waved but when you spoke to Toga, she didn’t respond.

She had disappeared into the crowd.

You went back into the bathroom and checked but she was long gone. Just like how the blood has escaped your notice earlier, you didn’t see the blonde watching you from the other side of the street, her head tilted a little.

Dabi

It was a rare day when you found yourself alone without at least one person to watch your back. You didn’t always need the protection but sometimes, it was nice to have.

But you had given your word and it wouldn’t do to back out of this now.

The building where everything had been organised was old and crumbling – its ancient nature hidden on the outskirts of the city and slowly becoming overtaken by countless plants. It wasn’t somewhere anybody with good intentions would find themselves.

You liked to think that your work was good. It benefitted many and took only from those who could afford to lose it. Unfortunately though, rules had to be broken for the best results, and sometimes what was classified as ‘wrong’ turned out to be needed in order to achieve a goal. It wasn’t quite in line with what you believed but it had to be done.

Did working with villains make you uncomfortable? Of course. But it was hardly going to be something that stopped you from moving forward.

The two members from the League of Villains that had been sent to meet you were both men. You didn’t bother with greetings, just holding up the briefcase that you held.

“I’m looking for a specific artwork,” you said. “I’ve been told that you might be able to help?”

“An artwork?” the one asked. He wore a white and black mask that concealed most of his face and an extremely gaudy costume.

“Not just an artwork,” you explained. “It has something of mine hidden in the canvas. Normally, I would just get the police involved but if they found it, it would be quite problematic for me. The group that stole it won’t listen to many but the League of Villains, I’m afraid. They have a few good quirks and they’re extremely cocky for it.”

“We’re not lapdogs,” the other man said. “Especially not for whatever agenda you’re pushing.”

“I don’t pay lapdogs,” you acknowledged. “Consider me a sponsor.”

Flames cackled into existence in his hand, surprising his colleague enough to jump a little. “Chances are, they’ve already found your thing. Even if they haven’t, the league can hardly go around picking fights with random gangs.”

“Shigaraki did ask –“

The masked man was cut off by a glare. Blue flames sent flickering light through the air as they waited patiently for your answer.

“If it’s already been discovered or if it happens to get damaged during the process, then I don’t plan on getting anything out of our deal. It’ll simply be a loss on my side.”

The flames slowly flickered out and you allowed yourself to breathe again. Confidence was a requirement for these deals but you didn’t quite have the nerves of steel that you portrayed. It was always a fight to keep your reactions in check.

“I guess if we happen to bump into the group, we can check around for your shit.”

You knew his bluff as well as your own. The League of Villains had always worked well with those who had money. They required funding and wouldn’t say no to being able to flex their reputation around the underground. It was almost needed with the way rumours were circulating.

It was less than a week after that encounter when you found your artwork sitting outside your home. Charred on the edges, it was damaged enough to make the art itself worthless. But your items inside were perfectly unharmed.

Not bad for your first time working alongside the League of Villains. It was worth the cost… you should do it more in the future.

Twice

When you had been called in for this job, you had no idea that it was going to turn into a fight of the magnitude you experienced.

Flames tore along the streets. They melted lamps and trapped hundreds inside buildings – the screams for help becoming almost deafening as you broke down yet another wall to get civilians out. It was the third building you had had to smash into and there were more yet.

Nobody could get out and, if they remained trapped, they wouldn’t survive much longer.

When your partner and you had realised you were dealing with the League of Villains, you had immediately called in the big guns. What you hadn’t realised was that doing so would result in a brawl of sorts in the streets. The League of Villains didn’t care about collateral and honestly, sometimes you wondered if the heroes did.

You were starting to overheat. The amount of fire swirling around was getting to you, drawing the breath from your lungs and slowing your movements. Its angry blue nature hinted at its abysmal nature.

The next building’s walls took even longer to get through but you managed it and a few people scrambled out. You ushed as best as you could although it was starting to get hard to speak.

But then you noticed a dark figure lying in one of the rooms

Outside, the fire roared and smacked against the walls but you couldn’t just leave somebody there. You stepped over the rubble and made your way to the figure.

It was hard to make out details with the flames. The heat seemed to be getting worse as you approached – soon identified as being caused by the gaping hole in the wall. It radiated around the room in waves. You covered your mouth and nose the best you could, creeping forward to reach where the person was.

When you arrived, it took you no time to recognise that you weren’t saving an unfortunate civilian but rather a member of the League itself.

You hesitated for a second before hooking your arms under his and beginning to drag him away from the danger. This was the type of thing that lost reputation for heroes. Civilians didn’t like seeing villains being rescued but you honestly didn’t care.

If he was left there, he was probably going to end up dying.

Though he had seemed unconscious, when you got him out of the building, he muttered something and moved. It was enough to make you jump back but he didn’t attack or anything. He just touched his face and then let his arm go limp again.

You moved back cautiously. His suit had been ripped on the one side, missing its arm and half of the torso. You checked his pulse, relieved to feel that it was still going, even if it was unsteady.

“Can you hear me?” you asked.

He didn’t respond and you reached up to remove his mask. His hand immediately snapped up to grab your wrist and you prepared to activate your quirk but all he did was push your arm away from his face.

Alright then. No touching the mask.

You bandaged the open wound on his side as best as you could. It looked like he had gotten launched through the building. Once he was as stable as he could be, you moved him to a safer area and jumped back into the fray. A ton of rescues later and the heroes had won, at the destruction of much property.

And, rather unsurprisingly, the villain you had saved was long gone.

Overhaul

There was a new drug running around the market. You had heard of a number of small-time villains taking it – most of them dying shortly after consumption. It wasn’t unheard of. If something had even the promise of a good time then it would attract thousands.

But what was a problem was that you had lost several of your newest underlings as a direct result of this drug.

Given how picky you were about hiring, this was going to be a problem.

You tracked the source to none other than the Shie Hassaikai. They were an old branch of the yakuza, sitting on the edge of a downward spiral into irrelevance. Rumors followed that their boss had fallen quite ill and now, it was only a matter of time until they fell completely on their faces.

So you didn’t feel too nervous when you approached the house that fronted their main base. Even with the members watching you from the bushes, you kept a straight line.

You weren’t unknown. It would do them a great disservice to attack you.

And they knew it.

You walked in the front door with absolutely no resistance and remained unsurprised when two masked men came out to greet you. They didn’t ask about your business or enquire as to who you were. Instead, they led you into a sitting room and gestured for you take a seat.

Instead of that, you walked around the room and picked up everything that looked interesting. Nothing was hidden around but you hadn’t expected there to be.

“Please don’t touch things without gloves on,” a smooth voice interrupted your curiosity. “Cleaning this entire house is rarely needed and I’d rather you didn’t change that.”

You turned around to find somebody considerably younger than you had expected for the head of the Shie Hassaikai. He wore their signature mask and a feathered coat, almost his entire body hidden in some way.

“Not a fan of germs?” you enquired.

“Not at all.”

You shrugged and made your way to the couch, sinking down into it. “Guess that means no drinks or anything? Oh well, that’s too bad.” You gestured for him to sit.  “So, you’re not who I was expecting.”

“You’ve never worked with our organisation before,” he said, sitting on the edge of the chair opposite you.

“No. You’re not in the same line of work as me and I don’t care too much about the Yakuza.”

“Then why are you here?”

You straightened, aware that you were about to get into the most dangerous part of the meeting. “Your drugs have been getting into my areas. Now, I don’t care all too much about how you distribute stock but it’s not just coming into possession of low-life criminals. My men are getting practically gifted it.”

His eyes narrowed. “We need to test it somehow. Besides, that sounds like a problem for you, no? Have better control of your men.”

“Keep your test tube shit out of my territories.”

A small staring contest took place – a test to see who would break first. You had been in almost a hundred of these over the course of your career. They didn’t bother you much at all in anymore.

Eventually he waved his hand through the air. “I guess we could stop supply to traders in your areas but this isn’t a charity.”

“I could kill your men.”

“But you would lose your own in the process. Wouldn’t it be easier to do this the peaceful way and maybe even establish a relationship between our two groups?”

“You have my attention. Don’t waste it.”

Kurogiri

There are those days when everything begins so well only to rapidly spiral into a situation out of your worst dreams. This was something like that.

You had gotten horribly caught in the crossfire of a battle between heroes and villains. It all occurred faster than you could have ever imagined – flashes of light and explosions of sound. People were screaming, the sound coming through a haze as you tried to get a grasp on what had happened.

Blood was trickling down your arm but you felt no pain. You slowly lifted your head. Something had hit you, you remembered that now as your brain caught up to the dull ache coming from your ribcage.

You tried to move, finding that you couldn’t. The ache became worse and a heavy, scraping sound interrupted your attempts to crawl away.

It was a piece of concrete, heavy and painful, pinning you effectively to the ground. A smaller chunk was holding it up and stopping you from being crushed. But if you moved too much…

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, nearly choking on the dust that filled the air. Maybe if you shifted slowly.

A crunching noise made you hiccup.

Alright, so that wasn’t going to work either. You strained your eyes to see through the carnage but you couldn’t make out any heroes. They would come eventually; you just had to wait patiently and try not to move too much.

The concrete seemed to get heavier still and you fought the desire to cry.

There was a crunching sound. You couldn’t just wait around.

Slow as you dared, you began to inch forward. The rough surface snagged at your clothing and made every centimeter feel like it was going to end with you crushed. Worse still, the more you moved, the more apparent the injury on your back became.

The blood that had been trickling down your arm was now creeping along your torso. It pooled in your clothes and made everything sticky.

You tried not to think about it but it made you light-headed regardless.

About half-way out, you spotted somebody nearby. It was just their silhouette but still, relief flooded your veins and you cried out desperately for help.

The figure made its way over to you, soon revealing that the man was almost entirely made of smoke. He wore a suit and tie but his body swirled as though only somewhat solid. Bright yellow eyes stared at you – any emotion behind them was completely unreadable.

His eyes traced your shape. “You’re not who I’m looking for.”

“Please help me. This thing’s going to crush me.”

He paused, the swirling darkness that made up his face shuddered as though it was unsure how to respond. “I should leave you here,” he mentioned. “You’re of no consequence to me or to my cause. If anything, I should add pressure to the piece of rubble and make sure the fatality numbers are higher.”

You caught of whimper before it could escape. “Please.”

His smoke shook again, almost as though he was struggling to keep hold of it. Then he raised a foot and placed it on the concrete.

You screwed your eyes shut and tried to imagine the best parts of life.

A loud horn blaring made you open them again and a surprised yelp escaped as you saw tires race past in front of you. People were shouting, their voices loud and nearby. Bright lights surrounded you and the air was clear once more.

The last thing you remembered seeing was a panicked nurse rushing over to you.

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz brekker x reader In The Rain

A/N: So this is going to be interesting... So because Kaz has some problems with touching people I thought I would make the reader suffer as well... The reader in this story has problems with skin contact as well and was abused as a kid so beware! Also this was also posted on my wattpad account you can find me on wattpad @ kk123huff!

Warnings: Bad writing, CHILDHOOD ABUSE, HARASSMENT, language, HAPHEPHOBIA, SEXUAL ABUSE, THE MENAGERIE, THE READER THINKS OF HERSELF AS NOT GOOD ENOUGH YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL IN EVERY WAY FOLKS! Some angst then some fluff near the end. You have been warned!

Summary: The crows are on a mission (Matthias is alive) and the crows don't know you very well (well expect for Kaz you and him have known each for years and he's technically your boyfriend but the other crows have no idea!!!) It's a dangerous mission (well when is it not hehe.) And Kaz is going to die but you save him! Let's see what will be revealed to the rest of the crows because of this dilemma. The reader also can turn into a creature like; wings come out of her back claws produce and she gets horns and a tail, and Fangs. She has a healing factor, kinda like Spiderman's, and she can touch people and they can die, and she basically has a mix between Alina's powers and the Darklings powers that I call moonlight magic. All her senses are amped up and same with her strength, agility, speed the whole shebang. Cheesy I know. But anyways onward and enjoy!

(All rights go to Leigh Bardugo and You I just own the plot!)

Reader p.o.v.

Running in the rain sucks. Especially when your running from the Blacktips. Especially when there are Blacktips chasing you and another group of people named the Hunters. Especially when those people were hired by Tante Helen. So to start off today I was going on a mission with Kaz and his crow friends, to officially end the Blacktips and whip them out  completely. Then to give the mission a good start none of the crows (besides Kaz) were trusting me at all. And I didn't expect them to but when I mean trust I mean like mission level of trust so they would at least trust my capability or at least trust Kaz. But they absolutely did not!    

Which is fine, because why would they trust a monster? Not that they know I'm one (again besides Kaz.)

So when we went to ambush their leader (the Blacktip's) there was no one there.

Well Kaz's entire plan just about went up in flames in those couple moments.

So we scope the area a bit till this guy jumps me and holds a knife to my throat.

Fantastic. This day is just perfect.

Being held right up against a man that's not Kaz with a history in the menagerie may off set me a tinsy bit. Screw you guy. Then it was fine though because I hit a spot on his neck to make his hand go numb so he drop the dagger and with his knife I killed him. Slit throat of course.

The irony that comes with living.

Then at least 33 men because apparently the Blacktips are sexist come into the abandoned warehouse. Kaz turned to us gave us a nod and we ran. While we're running for our lives these guys (there's about 8 of them) which call themselves the Hunters as they yelled what they wanted at us and came pouncing towards me. And of course they wanted to kill me.

So life is just amazing right now, and running in the rain sucks. Screw the rain saint/god because I'm going to tear their eyeball out if I meant them in death.

I run around a corner with the rest of the crows following because I can run inhumanly fast (well not really just faster then the average human.) Then I run into a weird sort of field thing that was close the the warehouse so we can fight and know where everyone is because their is a lot of people who want to kill me and Kaz. Great.

You could just let your other side out and this could be done in minutes. A voice in my head whispers.

Shut up. I think to myself. Everyone hates a monster. I think as I take a quick glance over to Kaz.

The crows and I gather ourselves together, I look to Kaz; "We could still end this, the Blacktips's leader is here." I nod my head over to the big bulky man with dirty blonde hair and redish pale skin looking for our hiding spot.

Kaz's gaze is on mine unwavering with those topaz eyes with that strike of green in them every now and then. "We could." He says

"But..." Nina says. I glance over to her quickly, but what? So I say exactly what I think.

"But what?" I snap slightly annoyed- we should be getting a move on there's 41 people to take down we have to get going.

"Those guys wanted to kill you Y/n, it's not safe for anyone here it could be potentially fatal to this job."

I shrug my shoulders uncaring, who would care if I died? Kaz might for a while. I sneak a glance at Inej. But he has her, and I know she's 100 times better than I am Kaz just needs to see that.

"Who isn't after to kill me these days? Plus a jobs a job, I die, I die, there's nothing anyone can do about that. If I'm going to die might as well do it fighting, also you don't just stop a job you keep on going regardless. It doesn't matter if I'm a casualty as long as the job got done then it's fine."

Everyone looks at me with a face of shock apparently not expecting that answer.

"So what's the plan." I snap yet again being set of guard by that damn man.

Kaz sighs knowing he can't stop me. "Okay..." He starts talking. "I know how we're going to get out of this."

_________________Mild time skip like 25mins top, and your just about to start the plan____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sorry that was weird, onward!

I take Kaz's hand and squeeze it slightly but let it go just as fast. Just a reminder that I needed - even if he had the gloves. He glances over to me and his face is a mix of emotion;  worry, love, anger, and some more I couldn't identify.

Love? He could never love you. The voice hissed. You will never be enough, you monster! The voice laughed. You must be going insane! I growl slightly. Quiet. Fine suit yourself to your madness you inhuman.

Kaz looks over to me and his mouth quirks up a little bit and he nods at me.

"Come on let's go show them what a murder of crows look like." I grin sadistically.

We come barging out of our hiding spot hitting them at all ends. I pull out my knives and charge towards the Hunters.

I slash my knife onto one of their arms and the man growls in pain, as I place another cut right on his thigh. He nods his head and 7 other men come to back him up. I cock my head to the side and grin.

"Well boys, it looks like it might not be a fair fight for you!" And with that I'm off. I pounce on the one beside the one I already injured and with two knives in each hand like claws coming out of my skin I slash his throat open and he drops to the ground dead.

Then 3 come at me this time while 4 come around to my back. Not a chance kiddos.

I jump really high into the air then with amazing speed come down onto 2 guys killing them on impact. Now the other five are pissed at me for killing 2 guys at once great. They circle around me, it's like their trying to Hunt a predator with their sloppy movements and mindsets mind you.

"We we're sent in here by Tante Helen to bring you to her or to at least kill you." The man smiles.

"It may be easier than we thought." Okay so you can call me whatever you want I don't care but never tell me I can't kill you. It's the only thing I seem to be good at.

I howl out into the open and I can feel the transformation already.

Dark black feathery wings spout from my back like flowers on steroids, I feel my teeth take the shape of some deadly fangs, of brown-red cat like tail comes out from under, horns warp around my head like warping paper, and majestic claws form onto my nails.

The men look at me in fear and a certain blood lust is there that wasn't before.

"You ready boys."

It's a mess of bodies and I think there's only 4 guys left, I jump on one of them tear off his head blood splattering all over me even though it probably didn't matter because there was blood all over my body at this point. I stick my claws into the other chest and he slowly falls to the floor chocking on his own blood.

Then I see it.

It's obviously another man but the difference here is that he has a gun trained on Kaz while he's occupied with the other boy.

And he's pulling the trigger.

Without so much as a second thought my wings lift up and take flight and with a boost of moonlight magic I fly right into Kaz causing him to slip and kill the other man.

Oh and I got shot.

Blood sputters from my chest and I fall to the ground. Kaz whips towards me and yells; "Y/n!"

Or least I think he did everything is a bit hazy right now. I feel myself transform back into my normal human form. And Kaz cradles me in his arms and I realize with a first he doesn't have his gloves on. He commands something to Jesper about killing the last man and something to Nina and Inej about finding healers.

"It's going to be okay Y/n stay with me damn it!" But it sounded slow and hazy - it must be that damn rain. Suddenly I gasp in realization. I could use my moonlight magic to heal myself. In my excitement I accidentally kissed Kaz.

We haven't kissed before think that neither of us we're ready but by the saints, I never wanted to stop.

His lips we're gentle and soft against mine, they shifted with mine as if we were meant to fit together. It was all the stars in the universe coming down on us, it was binding us yet it was destroying everything around. Beautiful destruction.  

Oh and I healed myself while this happened.

We pulled away running out of air and because Kaz thought I was still dying.

"Moonlight magic it helped me heal some of the way, my healing factor will do the rest." I manage to say with Kaz so close to me.  He raises his eyebrow, then Kaz fucking Brekker gives me a full on relived smile.

Then in that moment we realized we had an audience.

Fuck this shit.

Kaz picks me up (what the fuck) but I'm secretly glad because I don't think I could even stand up right now. The crows faces are just priceless I giggle a little and right now it doesn't even matter to me that I showed them the monster, Kaz trusts them so I should take that leap. Plus Kaz and I just toke a big step in our relationship I couldn't be happier.

"Meet my girlfriend."

Their faces transform into surprised and even more shock, but a little bit of pride too. And I smile because for the first time in years the voices in my head are speechless.

So that's that I guess. I honestly suck at writing for Kaz and there may be a part 2! We will see... 🤪

2014 Words

-thedelusionreaderbitch

[temple--ghost]

SNK Chapter 133 - Levi on Eren’s Eventual Death

An analysis of Levi’s emotional state in SNK’s recent chapter.

___________________________________ Boring Disclaimer: I’m Ereri trash. However, in terms of Isayama’s intention for the series and these characters, I believe Isayama has sought to depict their relationship as one completely without romantic or sexual undertones. 

However, there are enough "blank spaces" and "building blocks" in his work that a reader can conceptualize and read given scenarios in many ways. In aspects of film and media theory, characters and narratives are often treated as if they aren't just blots of ink hitting paper, but as a hypothetical reality in which to judge character morals and meaning. When we intake any piece of fictional media, the ideal is an engagement with the characters and the story. We can consider the author’s intent, while also acknowledging multiple, theoretical “realities” of this created world as it is portrayed to us using media-driven language. 

That said: I cannot argue that there is a romantic undertone between these characters; instead, I believe there is a significant relationship here that is vague enough to be twisted by interpretation. 

___________________________________

Introduction

This is where we begin:

Hanji has been left behind to die. Eren’s rumbling has slaughtered thousands. Countries and cultures have been left to ruin. 

And, our group of protagonists are unsure how to stop Eren. 

We have two crucial suggestions from Armin: try to talk with Eren and, as a last resort, kill Eren.

Coming off of Armin’s mention of this “last resort,�� Levi says:

We know there are a multitude of reasons for Levi’s death-wish against Zeke, 

So, in trying to understand his motivation here, I can see Levi’s words being read in two ways:

1. Going after Zeke in place of Eren may prove a simpler solution, while also fulfilling Levi’s desire to kill Zeke. Furthermore, if both Mikasa and Armin are hesitant in killing Eren, logically, Zeke could be the substitute. Levi’s suggestion is made out of intelligent convenience. His main priority with this suggestion is Zeke. 

or

2. Replying directly to this “last resort,” Levi offers up an alternative TO this last resort. “I’m fine with us having a last resort BUT...” and he offers Zeke’s death in the place of Eren’s. Simply put: he, personally, does not want Eren to die. 

My following argument and theory correlates to what is stated in #2: 

Based on the way in which Levi is portrayed in chapter 133, it is clear he remains emotionally invested in Eren’s life. 

And, notably, this is not the first time Levi has offered this solution...

Substitution 

Chapter 112: the Jaegerists are uprising. Eren has now not only forced the Survey Corps into action by attacking Marley on his own, but has also begun an uprising within Paradis himself. Soldiers find Levi and relay the information; Levi is told of the plan to kill Eren.

His reaction...?

To offer up Zeke. 

He goes on to admit:

“I don’t know if Eren’s really being controlled by Zeke or not. But we just need to end Zeke and they’re done for.”

There’s an obvious parallel to chapter 133, in which:

- Levi seems aware that Eren’s actions are likely his own. Eren is likely guilty in being a provocateur of destruction and yet...

- Levi acknowledges that Eren’s life is threatened. He offers Zeke to save Eren from death.

(For the sake of length, I’ve omitted a few panels. Eventually, I intend to address this entire moment in a future meta post, wherein I want to discuss if Levi’s desire to protect Eren stems from a personal attachment, or if his only concern is the concept of the “wasted” lives that have died for Eren’s sake). 

Let’s return to chapter 133.

Eren’s Answer 

Levi’s suggestion to kill Zeke with the help of the others prompts a discussion point from Reiner.

“Eren might want us to stop him, no?”

A scene change occurs soon after; our protagonists are transported to PATHS. Levi is the only character to realize:

In this moment, Levi acknowledges the possibility that Eren may have been listening and reacting to the idea that he (Eren) wants to have someone kill him. Levi is putting the pieces together -- Eren has heard them and this will be his response.

Our characters call out to Eren. Levi is the last to speak.

Somehow, in this moment, there’s still a sense of humor in Levi’s dialogue.

Despite Eren causing the deaths of thousands... despite the loss of Hanji, Levi’s comrades, and of the hope Eren was supposed bring... Levi’s greatest “threat” is to “let [Eren] off with an ass-kicking.” 

Through the lens of the odd and physical nature of Eren and Levi’s relationship, the threat is sentimental, almost. 

His final callout (”Why don’t you speak up for a change?”) brings to mind a fantastic meta done by @yaboylevi​, in which they explore Eren’s process of verbally retreating from Levi and the others. As well as how, in multiple instances, Levi tries -- and seemingly fails -- to speak to and understand Eren, but Eren would not let him in.

Directly following Levi’s words, Eren appears -- seen first by Levi -- and Eren’s monologue begins.

This is it. Eren has heard and is responding directly to our protagnoists’ question. And it is here that Eren not only confirms but takes it a step further by threatening further destruction unless he is destroyed. 

And it is only after this moment, after Eren has given them no other choice but to kill him, does Levi's knees hit the sand

The monologue continues. We see a close-up of Levi's face, while all of the others are in the background or not made purposely distinctive -- his is the face that sticks out.

Let’s talk about scene framing or, in a more common term used by those in media criticism: mise-en-scene.

Per Dictionary.com, we can define this term as:

The arrangement of scenery and stage properties; the setting of surroundings of an event or action.

In visual media, story-boarders and artists use the placement of characters to communicate messages to an audience. Mise-en-scene is often one of the first and most important concepts taught to those within the industry. Why? Because how these characters are placed within a frame manipulates an audience; there are, across all aspects of visual media, certain “tricks” a director or artist may use in order to convey a message through the visual representation of a scene.

If you wish to understand this aspect further, I highly suggest this article. But, let’s move on and apply this concept to Levi within this chapter.

I would argue that it’s significant that, within all the ‘PATHS panels,’ he is not only portrayed on the left-hand side, but also at a lower elevation than the rest of the characters. Characters portrayed at a lower elevation often intend to display ‘weakness, defeat, insecurity.’ The left side of the scene is also reserved for this indication. I’ll quote filepicker.io for this:

“Left: weaker side of the frame, reserved for villains, powerless or insignificant characters”

I want to bring up this page:

Where the others stand together in (what I see as) the same level of awe and shock, Levi’s differing in his placement and emotions is made purposely distinct. 

With Levi in the foreground, he is made completely separate from the homogeny of the rest of the group. The reader's eyes go to him on the ‘weaker’ side of the frame. While all others stand and look at the same point, he is the only one sitting and staring downward, listening and in thought.

He feels weak. Defeated. Powerless. I read the downward tilt of his head and the slump of his body as conveying a deep and thoughtful sorrow. 

The audience is told not only in Levi’s expression, but in the author’s entire use of framing, that what Eren has communicated in PATHS has a very significant effect on him and we, as an audience, are meant to see this. 

Levi’s Response

Immediately after this page, we return to the plane. 

Note Levi, whom remains in the similar crestfallen state as before --  still, obviously, in the same state of emotions and thoughts he was in just prior. 

One panel later he states:

He is back on the other side. He has been told, by Eren himself, that Eren’s death is the only option.

He has been given a straight-forward answer. He has obviously ruminated on this. He must now have an inkling of doubt that killing Zeke will stop Eren. He must understand the further depth of terror that will happen should Eren not be stopped. He must understand the loss of lives lost in Eren’s wake.

And yet, his emotions remain tethered to Eren. Despite his original promise in chapter 19. 

At this point, after all that has taken place between them, between then and now...

 Once again…

“...Now what?”

He does not consider the option of killing Eren.

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Eight: Fun & Games

AN: Well, I was gonna wait to post this chapter, but there’s an influx of notes pouring in for this story so why keep you all waiting any longer?

Word Count: 5.4k

Trigger Warnings: racism, objectification

Taglist: @azayamari​

Chapter Nine: Challenges

With some trepidation, Charles readjusted his grip on the gun and extended his arm. He let out a slow breath and looked to Erik. Taking a step back, he stood with an anxious expression on his face.

"You're sure?" Charles asked, the others were off training, but I stayed to watch the two men from the stone bench I was sitting on. I watched with a sigh as Charles pointed a gun at Erik.

"I'm sure," Erik nodded eagerly, smiling almost manically.

Oh, boy. I knew Erik and I were foolhardy enough when he fired his gun to test his abilities and then me following in his footsteps to test my own powers, but I didn't think he was stupid enough to have a gun fired at him point blank. I liked Erik, but why did he always want to do things that could potentially kill someone or himself.

"All right," Charles sighed, and slowly moved to place his finger against the trigger. Even as his finger was gently placed against it, his frown if anything grew, lowering his arm he shook his head. "No. No, I can't. I'm sorry," he gave in lowering the gun. "I can't shoot anybody point blank, let alone my friend,"

"Thank you, Charles for seeing sense," I remarked dryly, looking up from my reading.

"Oh come on!" Erik said while reaching out and grasping onto his arm and lifting the gun back up. "You know I can deflect it!" he asserted while pushing the gun against his forehead again. "You're always telling me I should push myself," he reasoned simply.

"If you know you can deflect it, then you're not challenging yourself," Charles lectured, lowering his arm again and giving Erik the gun back. "Whatever happened to the man who's...who's trying to raise a submarine?" he reminded.

"Oh, boy. Don't give him anymore ideas, Charles," I commented dryly again, snapping my book shut as I rose from my seat, straightening my skirt and letting my fingers glide over the buttons that went down the center.

"Well, it's gotten the job done all this time," Erik pointed out.

"It's nearly gotten you killed all this time," Charles corrected, he looked around as I turned my attention to the radio satellite in the distance.

"There's a challenge," I thought, catching Charles' stare and he nodded in agreement.

"I have to leave," Charles began, checking his watch before looking up at us. "I need to start setting up for Alex's training. I'll see you two later," he stated, and Erik and I watched as he took the path back into the mansion.

"You're a bit dressed up for training today," Erik commented, his eyes traveling from my simple cream colored blouse down to my maroon colored plaid skirt and finally onto my black pumps.

"I know! Do you like it?" I asked grinning, and holding both sides of the skirt and twirling before it found itself settling down to rest just below the mid thigh once again.

The sun had peaked in the sky, warming the fall day to the perfect level of warmth against our skin and making my golden, brown skin glow. Erik scanned quickly over what I was wearing, his eyes seemingly zeroing on my stockingless legs.

"Well Erik? I don't have all day,"

The sudden remark snapped him out of his daze. My voice contained a little snippiness as it did sometimes, but there was an equal amount of playfulness to it as well.

"I've seen better," he mentioned, and I narrowed my eyes upon him. Our stare down dragged out for five seconds, before Erik's lip started to quirk, struggling to contain his smile.

"I hate you Erik, so much," I uttered, stabbing my index finger into his chest. "And for the record, you're pretty average yourself, so I wouldn't get too cocky," I added flatly, a smile of my own forming.

"Has this always been your nature?" Erik asked with a smirk.

"I don't know what you mean," I replied, arching my brow and mirroring his smirk.

I made my way back to the balcony the gravel crunching underneath my heels before I hopped up onto the railing and faced Erik again. He moved forward moving from the stair we were standing on. He placed his gun down next to me and I immediately picked the weapon, aiming the weapon over his shoulder.

"Put that down before you hurt somebody or yourself," Erik jested, proud of himself.

I lowered the gun, "Who needs guns, when I can snap your neck with a flick of my wrist," I concurred, placing the gun back down on the balcony. "Or I could just order them to do the deed themselves," I added, with a shrug.

"Strange as it may be, but I want to experience your ability as well," he stated, placing his hands down on the smooth, stone railing. "I'm curious if power is truly terrifying as Charles makes it out to be," Erik gibed, a smug look on his face.

"You're going to choke on your words Erik," I sang, straightening my posture and stared into Erik's eyes.

Erik stared back into mine unflinchingly just as I planted the mental aftertaste of vanilla, He began to sniff. He knew the smell wasn't really there, that I was simply tweaking some nerve in his brain that told him he smelt it, but he sniffed anyway.

"I am shaking in my boots, Claudia," Erik commented dryly.

But now, that perfume didn't smell so sweet, he felt terror flood his mind almost like an offensive odor. I conveyed to him the feeling of cold seeping into his bones and water filling his lungs to the extent Erik physically choked.

Drowning.

I released him from my hold and stared at him as his coughing fit wracked his body, I smirked and jumped down from the down balcony. I patted Erik on his back as if I was burping a small baby and Erik just turned and looked at me still coughing, but not as violently.

"Told you I was going to make you choke," I quipped, and made my back into the mansion.

~~~x~~~

I wandered the mansion for a while my heels clacking against the cherry wood, very surprised to find that no one was in sight. I remembered that Charles was training with Alex and took the path to the bunker to see if today would yield better results for Alex. There was quite a bit of banging from what seemed to be in the bunker and low murmur of voices as I approached closer.

Just as I entered I watched Hank and Charles wrestle a vest of some sort on Alex. I joined the three of them my heels clicking on the metal floor alerting them to my presence, I lifted an eyebrow at what Alex was wearing now being able to fully see what it was. Alex had this new device strapped against him. It was a metal circular disk and my educated guess was it's supposed to center Alex's power into one place and shoot out as a beam.

Alex stared down at the thing with slight despair, "Sexy," he commented dryly.

I moved next to him and winked, "Innit? It compliments your eyes," I agreed smiling.

Hank smiled sheepishly, "Well this is just the prototype. The real one will look considerably better. It'll be a whole suit. See these sensors measure your energy I'll put this panel focus in and the excess is absorbed," Hank answered in a long winded explanation.

"You're sure this will work Hank?" Charles asked, a smile on his lips from Hank's excited explanation.

"Anything's possible," Hank answered breathlessly.

"Good enough for me," Charles said, and then pointed at the new three dummies, specifically at the one in the center that had a large ‘X’ tapped from its shoulder blades to its hips. "Alright try hitting the one in the middle, just the one in the middle, mind. Good luck," he concluded, leading Hank and I out the room.

Charles quickly closed the door behind us it wasn't long before I heard a loud explosion from within the bunker. Placing my hand on the handle of the door to open it I felt Charles' hand on mine halting my movement, that's when another thunderous explosion echoed throughout the bunker along with the sound of soft thud, like a body falling. The red light flickered on and I pulled open one of the doors as Hank opened the other one.

"For goodness sake..." Charles trailed off, once again looking at the fiery destruction that Alex caused. "Hank, Hank take care of that for me will ya," he requested, pointed to the now burning mannequins. I knelt down on the left of Alex as Charles knelt down on his right. "You alright?" Charles asked concern present in his voice.

"Yep," Alex replied, out of breath.

"Are you sure?" I questioned, staring at burning mannequins that were placed on the left and right before looking back at Alex.

"Yes," Alex answered again, regaining his breath.

"Can you stand?" Charles inquired, grasping Alex's arm and I did the same just as Alex nodded yes and the two of us pulled Alex from the floor. All of us looked at the blaze in front of us again while Hank tried to extinguish it. "Well, it's progress anyway," he acknowledged, looking at Alex. "At least it's coming from only one direction now. You will learn to control this eventually Alex but-" Charles started.

"But for now I get to wear energy diapers," Alex interjected irritatedly and stormed off. "Thanks Bozo!" Alex fumed, leaving the bunker.

"Oh Alex, you're so dramatic,"  I thought.

~~~x~~~

I hummed to myself as I moved down the hall looking for something to do, turning the corner I slowed my pace and stopped at a window and looked outside. Charles and Hank had changed into sweats. They were going on a run themselves. Hank saw me and I gave him a thumbs for good luck, he smiled weakly in return. I stepped back from the window and continued my search for human life in the mansion, turning down the hall I heard metal clanking. Someone's in the gym. I moved closer, but stopped when I was a few feet from the entrance because of a certain voice I heard.

"If you're using half your concentration to look normal, then you're only half paying attention to whatever else you're doing. Just pointing out something that could save your life," There was the sound of something heavy and metal moving. "You want society to accept you, but you can't even accept yourself,"

He was talking to Raven. I was irritated, suddenly and inexplicably irritated. But why? All Erik was doing was trying to encourage Raven to be herself. Erik came out of the weight room and walked away from the room but stopped when he saw me. I swiftly masked my expression with a smile, barely having time to process my true feelings.

I walked forward as did Erik, "Now that's a surprise," I began, meeting his gaze. "It's not everyday Erik Lehnsherr boosts your self-esteem," I joked, my voice low so Raven couldn't hear us.

"You overheard me talking to Raven?" he asked, matching my tone.

"Yes," I nodded.

"What do you make of it?" Erik questioned, folding his arms together.

"I think you made a great point. It doesn't matter if she's blue," I agreed. "To me at least," I added.

"It doesn't?"

"No. But it's up to her to decide," I stated giving him a pointed look, before walking past him.

"I see..." Erik murmured. "Claudia!" Erik called, and I spun around to face him. "I lied earlier," Erik remembered.

I let out a chuckle, "Oh, and what would that be about?" I questioned, arching a brow.

"You look fantastic, truly stunning," Erik complimented.

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress a smile, that slowly seeped through. I looked to the ground, hoping that he wasn't watching my reaction to his compliment. Looking up through my eyelashes, I met his eyes. The two of us watching each other before my smile widened and I slowly walked backwards until I faced the right direction.

"Hard at work I see," I observed smirking from the entrance, before entering the room. Raven was in her blue form, something that will still take time for me to get use to.

"Well aren't you all dressed up," Raven commented, putting a pair of dumbbells back. "I take it you're not training today," Raven stated, gesturing with her hand in regards to my outfit.

"Nope," I answered, popping the 'p'. "Charles gave me the day off, said we'll pick back up tomorrow," I explained, moving about the room and letting my hand running along the gym equipment.

Raven lips quirked up into a smile as blue rippled down her, transforming her back into her fair skinned form.

"Must be nice to have him wrapped around your finger. All you have to do is bat your eyelashes and Charles will do anything for you,"

I found Raven looking me almost expectantly, a grin on her face like she knew something I didn't.

"He is not wrapped around my finger," I argued, shaking my head smiling and Raven's grin grew wider. I definitely didn't 't know what she was thinking now. "What?" I asked, throwing my hands up.

"Nothing. It's just cute," Raven answered simply, with a shrug.

I gave an incredulous look, my hands on my hips, "What's cute?"

Raven laughed, almost a giggle. "You two. You know, a telepath and an empath. In lo—"

"Raven!" I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Come on. You're interested in him, admit it!"

I narrowed my eyes, "I'm not interested in him," I protested, knowing it was a flat out lie.

What Raven's prying eyes didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"In whom?" Charles's voice startled the both of us from the open doorway of the room, and we both glanced at each other with wide eyes as he leaned against the door frame, evidently done with his running with Hank. He stood there, calm and collected as he looked between the two of us, awaiting our answers with that hint of a smile on his lips.

As if he didn't already know.

~~~x~~~

There were a few things I was concerned about on the way to the mall. Of course, I'm always for the opportunity to buy new clothes, but I didn't have much money on me to pay for my purchases. Not only that, the thought of where in the hell would a black woman like myself be able to shop in Upstate New York crossed my mind. I could envision those three familiar words that have plagued me my whole life.

'No Coloreds Allowed'

When I brought this up Charles tried to assuage my concern.

"Don't worry, I know a place where you won't be bothered," he assured, flashing me a quick smile.

"Do you always have a hard time shopping?" Erik asked, turning in the passenger seat to look at me.

"In the city no, especially where I lived," I answered, shaking my head. "People are a bit more open and welcoming to someone like me," I explained, looking out the window. "But here in Upstate New York State, this is probably a utopia for rich, white folks," I continued, bringing my attention back to the two men in the car. "No offense Charles," I added, a small smile on my lips.

"None taken,"

"The only time people up here probably see someone of my complexion is if they are 'the help'" I finished.

We arrived at the mall and Charles pulled into the vast parking lot, driving around for a bit before he drove into a vacant parking space just as Moira passed us, parking in the space next to us. I looked out the window and at the mall, it was a large complex crafted in sandstone that was only one story. The three of us simultaneously got out of the car just as the back door to Moira's car opened revealing a grumpy Alex.

"Thank God we're finally here," he grumbled.

I raised an eyebrow curious to know what he could be possible be grumpy about now, but then again it's Alex, he's always moody. It wasn't until I heard the sounds of Sean and Raven chatting excitedly, that I figured out why he was so annoyed.

"You alright Alex?" I asked.

"I'm fine now," he nodded. "I had to get out of there, Claudia. I couldn't take much more of those two. Why couldn't I ride with you three?" Alex asked.

"Adults only car," I answered simply, shrugging my shoulders. "Sorry kid, I don't make the rules," I added smiling, and Alex grumbled some more.

Raven approached me grinning, "I am so excited!" she cheered. "This is great! A real break from all that training and worrying about Shaw trying to kill us all. Finally!"

"Technically, we had a break three days ago because of the rain," I reminded, sticking a finger in the air.

"That doesn't count, we were still stuck in the mansion," Raven argued playfully.

"Everybody ready?" Charles asked us, and everyone nodded. "Let us go, then," he smiled.

The eagerly-chattering batch of teenagers walked ahead as we entered into the crowded mall.

I gawked at the beautiful interior of the mall, "I have never seen a mall look this beautiful," I commented, my eye sweeping over the design.

"Almost like a utopia, right?" Charles asked, a smile on his face. I rolled my eyes at him for referencing my comment earlier, as a smile formed on my lips. "Okay, everyone! Gather around! I got something to say, it won't be long," he announced. "You all are free to explore the mall, but I have two rules. Do not draw attention to yourselves and you must be back at the cars by 6:30," Charles explained. "Am I clear?" he asked, looking around at the younger mutants and they all nodded their heads. "Good, have fun," Charles finished smiling.

The boys immediately took off, Sean and Alex went in one direction while Hank walked in the opposite direction. So, now that just left us with Moira, Charles, Erik, Raven, and I. The five of us made our way down the long galleria, but the quick glittering of something bright in the corner of my eye caused me to stop. As if in a trance I walked over to a jewelry's storefront window display, stopping in front of it I stared at the glittering pieces of the marvelously crafted and elegant jewelry.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice commented, I whipped my head around to see Charles standing behind me flashing a grin. "Do you see something you like?"

I glanced back over to the display case, "Everything," I retorted, causing Charles to chuckle.

"Okay, how about being a bit more specific," he suggested, a playful smile on his face.

"Alright," I began, admiring a particularly lovely necklace. "That one," I stated, pointing to a gorgeous Baltic amber egg shaped pendant on a sterling silver chain. "I never seen anything like it," I smiled, looking over at Charles.

"The diamonds don't catch your fancy?" he asked curiously.

"Well, diamonds are a girl's best friend, but...I don't know why, but this necklace is speaking to me," I explained, folding my arms across my chest.

Charles grinned and began speaking, but I couldn't focus on the words coming out his mouth. It felt as if someone was burning hole through my skull with their stare, turning my head to the left I met the gaze of an older white man. He grinned at me, but the warmth didn't reach his eyes. Just as I was about return the gesture out of courtesy, I was suddenly struck by a pulse.

Lust.

I scrunched my nose, disgusted, I shot the man a glare. I placed my hand on Charles' arm silently telling him that we should go, but he didn't seem to notice my hand. I looked up and into Charles' eyes only to see him glaring at the man as well.

He must have obviously heard whatever thought ran across the perverted man's mind, while I had the unfortunate pleasure of feeling what he was thinking.

Charles placed his hand on my back, "Let's catch up with the others, shall we?" he suggested, but it was more of an order as ushered me away from the jewelry store.

"Gladly,"

~~~x~~~

"Charles?" I prompted, softly. He turned his head in my direction. "It's been about five minutes since our little encounter and I want to know what that dirty, old man was thinking," I explained, meeting his stare.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm almost embarrassed to say," Charles replied, a flush creeping up his neck and to his cheeks.

"Humor me,"

"Alright. Well, to begin with, I could hear the man groan in his mind," Charles started.

I twisted my nose up, "Eww," I broke in, letting out a groan myself.

"This is what the man thought, and I quote, 'Ooo, mama...She's a pretty one. I wouldn't mind getting some of that tonight,'" Charles recited, scrunching his nose up as well. "I feel dirty for even saying those words aloud," he added, as we walked into a department store.

I laughed, "Ditto," I agreed.

It seemed my laughter attracted the attention of a sales rep, a pretty blonde dressed in red, with her hair done up in a flipped bouffant.

"May I help you?" she asked, completely ignored me and directing the question solely at Charles.

"Jesus Christ, this place," I thought.

I lowered my mental barrier and glanced at Charles.

"You're right, I won't be bothered here. They'll just act like I don't exist," I thought. "Or think of me as a sex object. And I can't tell which one is worse,"

"I'll make myself scarce then," I informed, glancing at him one last time.

I sighed and decided to go find Raven, making my way away from them, I heard Charles quickly answer with a 'No' and hurry past the rep. Charles caught my wrist and tried to stop me, but I shook him off.

"Charles, let me have my space," I thought.

I walked away without hindrance and continued on my journey to join Raven who was most likely in the women's department. Following the signs I found the department and Raven who was currently sorting through tops, even though she had plenty of clothes draped across her arm.

"And hear I thought I was the person to buy a ton of clothes," I commented smiling.

"Hey!" she cried, smiling herself. "They're not all for me, I picked stuff out for you to," Raven explained, looking up from her task. "You and Charles were taking to long," Raven added shrugging, and handed me the clothes she picked out.

I examined the clothes and checked the sizes which were strangely correct, "How did you know my size?" I asked, lifting my eyes away from the tag.

"I may have went into your room..." Raven answered, trailing off.

I lifted my eyebrow, "You did what?" I questioned, wanting an explanation.

"I didn't mean to," Raven began, lifting her hands in surrender. "Our laundry got mixed together and I went to return your shirts to your room. I know I shouldn't have, but I went snooping in your closet and drawers, I wanted to know your size in case I wanted to give you a gift or something," she explained, and I could see that she meant well.

"While I appreciate the thought Raven, please don't go in my room unless I say you can," I stated, giving her a pointed look.

She nodded her head, "Won't happen again. I promise," Raven assured.

"Good,"

"So..." Raven trailed off.

"So, what?" I repeated, wondering where this was going.

"So do you like Erik or Charles now? I'm confused," Raven asked as we walked down the aisle to lingerie.

"I beg your pardon? What?” I asked confused, raising my eyebrow again. "I don't like Erik," I stated, shaking my head. "Well, not like that, if that's what you're implying," I added.

"But you do like Charles?" she inquried. "You didn't deny it," Raven pointed out.

"Maybe a little. So what? I'm a big girl," I said shoving her playfully and putting my head on her shoulder as we walked.

"I'm pretty sure he likes you too. I've lived with him for so long and I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you," she explained. "But what's going on with you and Erik?"

I sighed, "Nothing is going on between Erik and I. We're friends, which is something I thought would never say," I laughed, as I began looking through a rack of lacy undergarments.

"So what did I see between the two of you during training a couple of days ago?" Raven asked, looking up from her rack.

My hand paused and I lifted my head to meet Raven's gaze, "Nothing," I answered shrugging. "We were practicing hand to hand combat, he knocked me off my feet and then proceeded to pin me to the ground," I explained, shrugging my shoulders before continue my search through the undergarments. "Nothing you should look too deeply into," I reasoned, trying to convince her.

Or...maybe I was trying to convince myself.

"Speak of the devil, look who it is," I commented, spotting the metal bender approaching us from afar. Raven's face went beet red, I don't know why though, possibly because of Erik approaching us while we're looking though undergarments. "No need to be embarrassed Raven, I'm sure Erik has seen lingerie before," I assured, lifting up a set off the rack. "He's probably even helped a few women out them," I added smirking, picking up another set.

"Dia..." Raven groaned.

"What?" I asked smiling, looking at her. "Erik, you naughty boy," I called, once he was closer to us. Erik rolled his eyes and chuckled, before propping one foot on the bottom of the rack and leaning against it. "What would people think seeing you in this section?" I asked, a playful tone evident in my voice.

"You know I could care less what people think, Claudia,"

"True enough," I conceded. "Speaking of what others think..." I trailed off. "Which one do you like?" I asked lifting both sets of lingerie up, one in each hand.

The set in my left hand was a pale blue embroidered with bright white lace, the fabric was silky and sheer and wonderful to the touch. The undergarment in my right hand, my favorite of the two, was a matching deep red bra and high waisted briefs, that was all lace and satin. The garment was meant for one purpose, seduction.

Erik brought two fingers to his chin and began to rub it as if he was thinking hard, "I don't know, it's hard to choose. Maybe you should model them for me," he suggested smirking.

My eyes widened as I let out a laugh of disbelief and my face heating up from the comment. In the corner of my eye I could see that Raven's jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

Laughing softly at my awed expression, Erik lifted his finger and pointed it to the right, "Choose the red set, the red sets off your black hair and brown eyes, not to mention it goes well with your skin color," he noted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I nodded my head and smiled, "Thank you Erik for your expert opinion," I grinned, and Erik mirrored my expression before walking off.

"How were you not in the least bit embarrassed?" Raven questioned, her eyes wide.

"It's just underwear, what's to be embarrassed about?" I asked back smiling, with a shrug of my shoulder.

Raven chuckled, "Okay, but what about his modeling joke? I would have been red as a tomato if he said that to me," Raven stated, quickly glancing in the direction that Erik walked away from us.

"I'm quite flattered actually," I quipped, still a smile on my face.

Raven shook her head slightly, "I wish I had your confidence," she said a little sullenly.

"You will...maybe not today or tomorrow...but someday," I reassured, placing a hand on her arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll work it on together. Now, come on, let's check out,"

~~~x~~~

I was laying on my back on Raven's bed staring up at the ceiling, my hand trailed up and down her thick warm duvet, the cover a wool and cotton blend.

"I look like terrible like this," she groaned,

I quickly pushed myself up from Raven's sturdy, yet soft mattress, "No! No you don't, you look amazing," I protested, staring at Raven in her true dark blue form.

Raven turned around to face me as her skin changed back to it's fair complexion, her pupils shifted from yellow to blue. She plopped down next to me and sighed as I ran my hand through the white fur throw, I glanced at the picture frame on Raven's dresser that had a picture of her, Charles, and a blonde haired woman that was probably their mother.

"I don't know why would you want to look like you do now? I mean, I understand your opinions and reasons...but why would you want to look your mother?" I questioned, tilting my head.

A tense silence followed the end of my sentence.

Raven slowly craned her toward me, her eyes wide as saucers, "How...did you know that?" she uttered, her skin becoming ashen.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized, turning my body to fully face Raven. "A few days ago you looked upset when you were staring at a picture of your mother. I had my shields down at the same time as I walked by you," I explained, running a hand through my hair. "Just as I was about to reseal my emotions, I felt this sudden wave of self-loathing and the strong desire to look like your mother," I continued, my lips forming a thin line. "Raven, I swear that I was not trying to snoop about your head," I promised, taking a hold of her hand and squeezing it.

Raven awkwardly nodded her head at my confession, I could see the varying emotions appearing on her face. We soaked up the silence.

I released Raven's hand and rose from her bed, "I should starting heading for my room," I announced, finally breaking the quiet and Raven just nodded. I made my way to her bedroom door and put my hand on the doorknob, pausing to look back at her before I left. "And remember Raven, confidence is key," I recited, a soft grin on my face as I opened the door and stepped out.

"Thanks Dia," Raven smiled, a grateful expression on her face. "Good night," she called.

I nodded my head, "Good night," I repeated, closing the door behind me.

Heading back to my room was a quiet affair, there was no one in the hallway, everyone was most likely getting ready for bed. I twisted the knob to my door and entered the room. My bed was buried underneath bags and bags of shopping. A smile grew on my lips at the thought of having new outfits and not being forced to wear the same clothes over and over.

My smile faltered when I spotted an unfamiliar small bag on my night stand. I pushed my door closed and walk over to my bed in confusion. I pick up the note attached to the bag in the front and read it.

Claudia,

I'm sorry about today, from the perverted old man objectifying you to the woman who disregarded your entire existence. You were right about me, I am a bit naive. I thought since there wouldn't be any signs banning you from coming in then there would be no problems. It was a foolish thought, racism doesn't just magically disappear. Though your evening was spoiled I wanted to give you something that truly seemed to bring you joy tonight.

Charles

I reached into the small bag and my fingertips brushed against something soft. Lifting the soft item up I could see now it was a long, velvet jewelry box. My eyes lit up slightly as I had inkling to what I was holding. Flipping open the box, I let out a soft laugh at what I was staring at.

It was that gorgeous Baltic amber necklace I spotted earlier.

Chapter Ten: Old Wounds

[dailydnp]

British YouTuber, presenter, and author Daniel Howell offers a practical yet poignant look into mental health – his own struggles held up as a mirror for anyone else going through the same – in his book You Will Get Through This Night.

Written in conjunction with psychologist Dr Heather Bolton, the book is an amalgamation of Howell’s own experiences and Dr Bolton’s expert perspective combined to create a reading that feels like a personal attack in the best of ways, forcing you confront, embrace and then overcome your perception of your own mental health.

Best described as, “a practical guide to taking control of your mental health for today, tomorrow, and the days after,”  You Will Get Through This Night takes readers through Howell’s mental health journey, wrapped in his trademark sense of humour and nuggets of wisdom that urge them forwards in their path to a healthier mindset.  

Speaking to 1883, Howell describes what pushed him to write the book, learning to question his normal, how upbringing and culture impacts one’s perception of mental health, the role that a sense of humour plays in getting the conversation around mental health started and more.

Was there a particular moment that solidified your decision to write this book?

I think it was just realizing the power that every single person has to tell their story and break down the wall. Because with mental health, it’s the thing that every single person has a universal experience of. And yet, we all like to go, ‘I’m fine,’ when we’re completely having a meltdown on the inside and it was me opening up, not because I thought it was a nice idea just because I thought I had to open up about what I was going through with my depression, my sexuality. I went through 27 years of terrible mental health, without even realizing that you’re not supposed to be that way. It’s the idea that we all think we are broken, born in a certain way and doomed to feel that way forever, and that’s fundamentally wrong. I thought I’d like to write this book because other people may see themselves in it, notice that they relate to something, and therefore maybe there’s something about themselves that they need to work on. I literally I just wrote the book that I wish I could have read, because for me it was a struggle to even find the resources and the advice I needed.

You’ve mentioned in the book, that you never questioned your symptoms and that you were taken aback when the doctor said you were suffering from depression. But where there moments before that you started questioning this perception of what was normal to you?

I think it became my normal to feel bad all the time, which sounds dramatic but it was me. I thought it was all to do with my choices, age, environment and my job. But mental health is deeper than that, it’s something deeper and it’s something that you can actually have a positive effect on, which is what I wish I knew earlier, and it only happened when I got to a point where I was struggling, so much that I couldn’t even function day-to-day. In my mind, there was either nothing or there’s crazy. I thought you just have to get over your problems or you are totally crazy, which is so ignorant but that’s just not the truth. So, I went to a doctor and he said I think you might have depression and that is a real thing. And there’s lots that you can do about it. It’s about just understanding everything to do with how your thoughts and feelings work, the relationship between your biology and how you interact with the world physically. It was such a slow and painful journey to learn all of that that I thought, I’m just going to put it all in here and the idea is that for someone who picks up this book, they can go right in. I’ll put it up on the shelf and then when I need to read it, I’m going to pick it up and open it  again. So, I just wanted to be super practical.

I really liked this quote in the book “breakdown can be breakthroughs”. So, when was the last time you can think of that a breakdown led to a breakthrough for you?

Every other week, like you know, all of us. It’s just human instinct to try and stick through it and ignore the problems especially with work. It’s a great excuse to lie, “ I know I feel bad but I’m really busy.” And it goes like that until things get way too intense. For me, there were moments where I felt I simply cannot keep going in my career or day-to-day life or try to pretend like I’m funny, until I deal with the fact that I’m gay. And though there was this terrible feeling like “have I hit rock bottom?” But the thing with any obstacle is that it stops you from going in the wrong direction and when you are forced to turn around usually it means you’re confronting the truth for the first time. Usually if someone has a breakdown, if you hit that wall in your life, that point where you absolutely can’t keep going until you turn around and something scary is going to be waiting, it means you’re going in the right direction. When you have these moments of confrontation, instead of procrastinating or running away, if you face it then it’s hopefully better days ahead.

Speaking of procrastination, you talk about burnout and the five-minute rule in one section. How do you strike a balance between not procrastinating and getting things done, but also not overworking yourself?

The human concept of work is very strange and it’s just one of those great examples of something that we’ve all brainwashed ourselves to see a certain way, to put value on certain things that are ultimately probably not great and inevitably lead to another dramatic moment of self-destruction and procrastination, which are both associated with so much guilt and shame.But in reality it’s not because I’m lazy that I don’t want to start this thing, it’s probably I’m terrified of starting this thing because I know that it’s important, I don’t want to fail at it. So, think of the five minute rule as ripping the plaster off, because it’s always the fear of starting. That was me, writing this book and feel like I’m not in the mood to do that, but then moment I start then I’d just write for consecutive hours. Again, it’s just snapping out of the mindset that you’re probably on, which goes I’m doing this because it’s important, and I have to do it. You probably don’t have to do it, you’re probably just running from something else. So, whether you are procrastinating, you think you’re lazy, or  you’re telling yourself that you have to put up all of your issues to deal with whatever you’re busy with, you need to flip it around and look at it, not just from in healthier way but in more honest way. I’m not going to cripple myself with guilt and shame about procrastination but I’m not going to over work myself.

You’ve also written about how one of the worst things you can say to someone going through depression is to get over it. What’s the hardest of trying to get people to understand that it isn’t something you can get over?

I think you cannot underestimate how profoundly ignorant most of the world still is about mental health and that’s not people’s fault. It’s just that science, education and culture has just not been doing the right thing even if science recently has come a long way. We’ve got hundreds of years of stigma that come from. Breaking down the barriers, by being honest, with someone one-to-one is a great way to do that. And it just telling them “I’m not going to pretend that everything’s fine. I just want to tell you that, I feel that way.” And for a lot of people who say they don’t understand depression, anxiety etc, if just say I feel bad and I want to do something about it, people usually empathize with it. I also think lot of people want not take it seriously when other people say that because they feel like where was their help when they needed it? I think that the human nature is usually to feel almost jealous that someone else is asking for help or sympathy and they want to get better but you have to talk back to that voice and say maybe this is an opportunity for me to finally, be honest about how I might have been feeling the whole time. Because at some point you have to break the cycle.

Though you’ve said how you can’t underestimate how ignorant people can be, there’s a section of the book where you talk about how you uploaded your video, “Basically, I’m gay,” and braced for negativity. But that you were surprised by all the positive responses. So, what’s the most recent instance you can think of where you were pleasantly surprised by humanity?

Something that anyone that has to admit something, they’re going through and has in common, whether that’s something that’s come out as gay or someone just admitting that they’re just really stressed or feeling very anxious, is feeling like they have to constantly explain themselves. This is just an example of how you can be afraid of what people will say but when you’re really just honest about something that you’re going through, people usually relate to it on a day-to-day level. Whenever I talk to someone about mental health or sexuality, who may think its weird at first but as I describe my thoughts and feelings, they may relate to it even if they aren’t going through exact same thing as you. For me, a year after coming out and I still have that conversation on a daily basis. As a teenager, I had that deathly fear, that I couldn’t tell anyone because it would be terrible, but now I realize that actually most people are just scared. They aren’t inherently hateful; they’re just putting up that wall because they think that being vulnerable leaves them for attack. But actually, if we’re all vulnerable we’d be a lot happier.

Speaking of vulnerability, you touch upon your upbringing in the book and how it sort of taught you to keep a stiff upper lip. When did you start learn to be vulnerable and what was the biggest challenge with that?

Being a young British man, going to an all-boys school or the comedians that I looked up to on TV – everyone was so cynical. It was about trying to be as like edgy as possible and like act tough, and not show this vulnerability in case it’s seen as weakness. I think that I carried this perception all the way into my mid-20s, it seeped into every part of my personality. A lot of the stuff that I made, when I was younger, had this cynical edge to it and it was only when I started to get more followers from around the world that I began people started questioning that cynicism. At first, I’d go “this is British humour,” but a few years later, I just started to reflect about the way I was about myself and realized it was a bit more than a joke have, I actually started to let this self-hatred and the lack of empathy towards how I feel sort of eat me up. I think because only because of the people who have followed me over the years, giving me a reflection of who I am through how they’ve perceived me that I’ve been able to break free of my default programming.

About your sense of humour and how you kind of make sense of how you’re feeling through jokes, have you ever felt misunderstood -particularly given the cultural differences of your audiences  you just mentioned – like you’re trying to make light of something that a lot of people suffer from?

Yeah, there’s  a weird line and there’s lots of conversations these days about what you’re allowed to joke about. What the difference between talking about something, being comfortable with it and almost glamorizing it. But I think if the biggest problem with mental health globally is people don’t even want to admit that they’re wrong. And that they don’t even know that they were wrong. A bunch of people joking about how depressed they feel could be a  good thing because they have at least taken the first step. So, I think it’s good that people can joke about things in a way that breaks the ice as long as they all know, in the same way that my book might make them feel very personally attacked that just behind that joke that you put up to protect yourself, there is something that you should work on. Even if it’s painful, that it will make you happier.

You mention celebrating small wins in the book. What win are you celebrating today?

I have just moved house and I have a toilet that doesn’t flush yet. But I managed to stick a coat hanger, inside the toilet and to make it flush. I just got my own toilet to flush, and for me, that’s such a miracle. It was a perfect example of how we take so many things for granted in life, whether it’s something huge to do with your health, the state of the world, your privilege. But I now have a flushing toilet and everything else felt easy. I can handle it because I got some perspective.

You also touch on the importance of inner circles in the book. , When was the last time, you personally reached out to bring someone into your inner circle and do you remember how you did it?

I am so awkward and awful at making friends and it’s something that usually, I’ll have one of those breakdowns where I go, “I have no friends.” The next day, I’ll wake up and DM people, out of every three people I DM two-point-nine will just ignore me and I will be very embarrassed. But then one of them will  say “ yes, in two and a half weeks, we will go get a pizza.” And you only have to succeed a couple times ever to make friends that you hopefully will see more than once. I know from experience, it can be embarrassing, painful and not fun to try and reach out to new people but you just start adding one person, every two years until you have a friend group.

While working on this book, I know you consulted with a psychologist for it, aside from your lived experiences. What did you learn about mental health while looking at it from an outside, expert perspective?

I think one of the biggest revelations for me while writing this book is realizing how much of it isn’t a logical thought in our head. So much of mental health is controlled by our body, and the physical things that we experience. It’s about just how we breathe, how much light, and fresh air. And the problem is in our modern world, our brains are looking at everything as a threat. As soon as you realize actually, humans are not as complicated and mysterious as we think, we’re just little animals trying not to get murdered. It was freeing to know because that meant we aren’t born with this magically broken consciousness, that’s just doomed. It definitely made me look at mental health for what it is rather than the mysterious fog of pain that I thought it was for the last 10 years that I had absolutely no control over.

You’ve said that you’re obviously not done with your mental health journey, but where are you on that journey at this moment in time?

I’m doing a lot better than I was simply because I can understand what I feel, and why, and that it’s normal now. And I honestly feel like that’s 90% of it. Most people don’t ever question their lives. If they spend too much time, feeling overwhelming you stressed or if they worry too much and they’re just not enjoying life day-to-day. But just knowing that there’s something you can do about, it gives me enough hope. From writing the book, I know everything I can do to get better.

Finally, what’s one question no one has asked you so far that you wish you were asked?

I think it’s just how do I convince the other people in my life to take mental health seriously?  I realized from writing this book and now, talking about it that the biggest problem I have is that most people simply do not think the conversation about mental health, or mental health,  applies to them because they’re fine. So many people think mental health is only something for people that have crippling depression or serious anxiety disorder, but it’s just how all of us, think and feel all the time. If you have bad self-esteem, if you worry about everything, if you have a way of looking at the world that’s really negative and you expect the worst, then  you might not need to immediately have an intervention with a psychotherapist, but you need to understand your mental health. Even if you read this book and say you are totally fine, then you still need to know this stuff so you can understand why you are fine. There will be a point in life where you need to make yourself feel better and mental health isn’t about waiting until you snap, and then picking up the pieces and going on medication. It should be about knowing how to keep yourself healthy and happy so that you don’t have a breakdown. Everyone has mental health, and that’s the thing that I wish I could just shove into everyone’s faces.

[from-chaos-make-art]

five stages

please read here: a03 link

Angel fanfiction - Angel/Spike

[Angel dies in the final battle of 'Not Fade Away'. Spike is the one to break the news to Connor.]

Trigger warnings for suicide attempt, drug overdose, self-harm

There is brief Spike/Connor but it is reactionary behaviour on the part of Connor and mention of sex act. I was under the impression that Connor was of age at the end of the series, but apparently the writers were unclear about this? Debated on whether to put 'Underage' in trigger warning since this was the case. if that is something that people feel a certain way about, I can do so, but for now, it's not marked as such.

- - -

An hour, a few more broken bones, and three packs of cigarettes later, Spike is talking to a brick wall, sounding out words.

Connor, Angel--

No.

Connor, I have some bad news.

Actually, it's terrible news.

Actually, it may be the worst news you're ever going to hear.

No, that's worse.

Connor, your father is dead.

Dead.

It's a funny word, the first d a hope, the vowels an escape, the last d a slam, that’s final and absolute.

It’s funny how the word dead sounds like the beginning, middle, and end of a life.

Spike doesn't know what an end is, doesn't know what the words final or absolute are, because even when he died (the first time), he had believed in everlasting life.

And when he had woken up, buried six feet deep in his own grave, he had understood how meaningless death could become.

Because even when he had burned alive in Sunnydale (the second time), he hadn’t thought too much about what would come afterwards, and then afterwards came.

Death would have been a relief for what came after the flames.

Even with Buffy, there had always been a hope, that maybe because she had thrown herself into another dimension, she could find a way back, could find a portal, could crawl through.

Denial's also a funny word.

But Spike can feel it in his bones this time, that these words are not just flutters of the tongue, but real weights.

Angel is gone and there is no coming back from this one.

Spike finally settles on

I tried to save him. I'm sorry.

~ ~ ~

Connor doesn't react at first. There's a moment of disbelief, a nervous smile. Angel has always managed to escape whatever prison, torment, hell dimension he’d been thrown into, and this was no different, right?

Right?

~ ~ ~

He somehow finds himself at Spike's door the next few nights.

The first night, Connor stalks into the room and punches Spike so hard in the face, his nose breaks. No time to react, Spike finds himself on the floor, his head being pummeled into the ground, the boy landing punches wherever he can.

Spike lets himself be beaten and broken. Spike takes it because this is what he has always done, always been good for, it seems, most times, the only thing he's good for.  Because he deserves this. Because Connor needs this.

When the boy stops, Spike can't see, can't hear, can't move, but he can hear a voice above him spitting out ,

You're pathetic. You won't even hit back. No wonder he's dead. You didn't even fucking try.

Spike doesn't move, doesn't respond. Eventually, Connor's breathing slows and he gets off of him, and leaves.

In the shower, Spike wipes off the blood and swallows, Connor's words ringing in his mind.

It's your fault.

You should have saved him.

And you didn't.

You killed him.

Coward.

Coward.

Coward.

Murderer.

The second night, Connor barrels in, and grabs Spike, but this time, the blood is on Spike's lips, Connor's teeth are on his tongue, and his nails are in the vampire's skin, clawing, and the boy's biting, fighting

but Spike won't have this, won't let this happen, because it's one thing to beat him senseless, but it's another to use him this way,

and only Angel is allowed to use him this way

only Buffy is allowed to use him this way

only the ones that he has broken himself apart for and have been broken by him in turn are allowed to use him this way

and Connor is not one of them.

Even monsters have limits.

So Spike shoves Connor away hard and Connor is shocked and angry and his brown eyes grow dark, almost black, and Spike doesn't want to see this, doesn't want to deal with this, so he looks down, but the boy won't let him--

What's wrong? I thought you liked cock.

And Spike doesn't tell him that this is what he desperately wants, needs, what he's missed so much he's drank himself unconscious, blackened his lungs out, fucked until raw, cried himself out.

He needs this, more than he ever thought he would, but

not with him.

Am I not good enough? I’m his son, aren’t I? Or, don’t tell me, you’re getting all moral on me now?

The boy is a passable substitute, alright, maybe a decent one,

but he’s not him.

And as much as it would brighten Spike's day to know that Angel's son is taking him up the ass, the very idea of it is revolting. Angel would not want this. And for some strange, inexplicable reason, Spike suddenly cares what Angel would want.

So he looks up, and brown-black meets golden and Spike whispers,

Get out.

The third night, Connor toes around Spike's doorway until the vampire finally asks,

What is it this time?

Turning around, he sees the boy, hair limp, eyes wet, arms even wetter, and it hits Spike –

the smell, the delicious full sweet smell that courses through his entire frame and fills him with need that almost makes him scream

Spike is consumed by want, desire, hunger

and he is fucking starving

The boy is quiet and he is walking towards him now, softly

and he is on his knees, reaching out his slick arms, gently

and his hair is soft

and his eyes are broken

and he bends over

and Connor whispers

Kill me

Please

and Spike closes his golden eyes

raises himself up

and punches Connor unconscious.

.

.

.

When the boy wakes up, he's in his bed, in his dorm room, with bandages on his arms,

and his head is shrieking,

his arms are on fire,

still shattered,

but he is alive,

and he is human.

The fourth night, Connor flits by Spike's room, and he hears a creak and a sudden slide and thump.

And Connor is on the ground throwing up.

Spike rushes over and sees foam, white, bits of pills, and --

Goddamn it, you can't do this, he growls

Don't you fucking dare,

and the last thing that Connor feels is Spike’s arms wrapped around him suffocating tight.

And when he wakes up again (harder than it looks, huh), he's in Spike’s bed this time, and the vampire’s had fucking enough.

Spike wants to tell him that when he saw Angel that night, finally, absolutely, and permanently still, he took his Grandsire’s sword, and plunged it so deep inside the dragon’s throat, he had had to slice his way out of its belly for hours.

Then he thought long and hard if he should do the same to himself.

Spike wants to tell him that the only thing keeping him from walking out into the sunshine is his cowardice.

Or maybe it’s a way to justify to himself his continued existence – death would be too easy of a way out and he deserves to atone, agonizingly, forever. (When one falls, another must rise).

He wants to tell him that self-destruction and death should only be sought after by the truly guilty and evil, and not the sons of fallen angels.

Instead, Spike asks,

Done yet?

Connor glares.

You should have saved him, not me.

Spike is too tired for this.

Have it your way then.

Spike takes Angel’s blade and levels it an inch from Connor’s throat.

But first, duty calls.

Tosses a phone on the bed.

Living relatives get to break the news. Sorry, but I don’t count.

One ring, two.

And an unmistakable female voice, weary yet hopeful, answers,

Hey, Angel. Everything ok out there?

[rainofaugustsith]

Rain Plays SWTOR: Why Do We All Hate Makeb?

Viri has been going through the GSI dailies on Makeb to bump my GSI reputation up to Legendary, and it's given me time to really think about the planet, and the Rise of the Hutt Cartel story as a whole. I tend to take my characters through Makeb just to spend more time with them, and to enjoy the scenery. Having said that, most players seem to detest Makeb and skip it.  It's weird. Makeb has:  1. Some of the most beautiful scenery ever seen in the game. 

2. Some really stunning design for the houses and gardens. Seriously. Look at this. 

3. Really, really nice decos available from the reputation vendor.  4. Other really nice decos' designs are based on Makeb.  5. A departure, mostly, from the Imps vs. Pubs!! storyline that some of us had grown so bored with.  6. Some interesting creatures such as the exoboars and underwalkers. We all love the exoboars in Vaylin's palace, don't we?

And yet, it's still loathed.  The question becomes: why do we hate Makeb? There are a lot of very valid reasons.  1. We don't get to bond with the NPCs we meet, nor do they play any critical part in story before or after.   With the exception of Doctor Oggurobb, Darth Marr and Chancellor Saresh, the NPCs with whom we interact in the entirety of the Makeb expansion are neither seen nor heard from again. We're kept at arms' length from them. This is different from both the class stories and Shadow of Revan, where the characters we meet become regular presences in our toons' stories.  2. The romances...aren't.  When RotHC was first released, Makeb was called "the gay planet" and a lot was made of the fact that the expac contained the game's first same-gender romances. Considering LGBT+ players got absolutely nothing in the class stories, this was a Very Big Deal. However, the romances fall very flat. For one thing, they're restricted by class. If you're Imperial, there's no wlw for you. If you're Republic, there's no mlm.  The moment that a male OC can have with Lord Cytharat feels like it can work - it's essentially an "I was so scared for you, and I care, and don't ever do that again" sort of moment. The wlw romance, on the other hand, really doesn't feel like one, at least to me. Lemda Avesta never seems particularly into the player's character. As a wlw, I usually avoid this romance because it feels so awkward and forced.  3. It's really grim.  Almost the entire time you're on Makeb, you know the planet is about to be destroyed. Anything beautiful you're seeing is about to disappear. People have lost their homes. It's pretty grim.  There's no happy ending on Makeb. Like, none. The planet dies. Even though it's physically saved, nobody can live there anymore for any length of time. Lots of people die, including some that work with the PC. There's no way to save them in some cases. Even though each side does have a win - the Makeb citizens escape in the Ark; and the Empire gets its isotope -5 - it's very empty because so much tragedy surrounds it all.  While Star Wars isn't sunshine and rainbows, there's usually something positive to perk up a reader/player even in the darkest storylines. At the end of Revenge of the Sith, there's the promise of baby Leia and Luke, both being raised in safety. At the end of Empire Strikes Back, Luke's got a nice new hand, he's safe on a Rebel Alliance ship and he's reunited with Leia and the droids. At the end of SWTOR's class stories, the player has triumphed somehow in their own field, and they usually have controlled their own destiny in some way. Makeb doesn't have that, and I think it makes a difference for replays.  4. It may hit too close to home.  Makeb is dying because people exploited its natural resources for profit. Hmmm. We've heard that before in our own world, haven't we? The mining causes groundquakes. In our world, fracking is said to cause earthquakes. Not only that, but seeing the houses crushed by groundquakes can hit a little close to home to anyone who lives in an area with lots of earthquakes, or has witnessed the destruction they can cause.  While I don't think any sort of environmental message was intended with Makeb, I do think there are things about it that can, even subconsciously, make us feel uncomfortable. 5. The maps and mobs. 

For me, the maps of Makeb are not nearly as frustrating as some of the ones on Taris, Balmorra and Hoth. For one thing, the land is divided into individual little mesas so you're not covering large swaths of ground the way you do on a planet like Alderaan or Tatooine.  Having said that, they can still be daunting. And unlike other planets, there's often no real way to go off the beaten path. If you do, you just might plunge to your death over the edge of the mesa.  Making this more problematic: the mobs. There are a lot of enemy NPCs, and they are everywhere, and you often have no choice but to plow right through them. This makes navigating very tedious. If you're a lower level, it can also make getting from Point Aurek to Point Besh very difficult.  Also, if you have a fear of heights, you may really, really hate this planet. It's nothing but sheer drops and light bridges across chasms in this nook of the galaxy.  6. The gameplay can be very repetitive.  A number of the quests just have the player doing the same or similar actions over and over again. It gets boring.  7. The heroics are hell.  Makeb heroics are incredibly long, complicated and overly tedious. They can literally take as long as some of the very short flashpoints, with ridiculously high difficulty in some cases. I don't think most of us bother with them.  8. It feels very detached from the rest of the story.  Nothing we do on Makeb matters. Or so it seems. What our characters accomplish in the class story, or Oricon, or Shadow of Revan seems to make an impact. RotHC, on the other hand, is something we can literally skip over without it having any repercussions. The only time it seems to come up with any significance is in Onslaught, where it's mentioned that the Empire still has some ships fueled with isotope-5. But even that is said in passing...and if your character never did Makeb, the ships are still fueled. If you're a Republic character, Oggurobb has very little to say to you about Makeb - except to tell you that you've aged badly since then (thanks, dude).  9. Some of the classes don't seem to fit.  Oddly, you would think the underworld characters - the smuggler and bounty hunter - would be peas in a pod here. They're not. You really can't find much of a reason for the smuggler to suddenly be interested in saving a planet's humanity. The bounty hunter isn't given any clear targets to assassinate. It's one of the times where certain classes seem to be really out of place.  10. And there isn't much said about our individual classes.  Each class does get an individualized intro cut scene, as well as some NPCs referring to them as Master Jedi or Dark Lord or whatever, but there's really not much difference doing this as a Jedi or a Trooper, a Sith or an Agent. 

11. The Force isn't a part of things.  It's weird. When things in SWTOR are entirely focused around the Force, it does exclude the non-Force using classes to some extent. When it's completely absent, though, it feels wrong, too. On Makeb, our little space wizards find that there's nothing specific to the Force for them to care about. The alignment of the planet isn't mentioned. No ruins. No weird artifacts someone's left in their mansion. Nothing. It feels slightly disconnected taking a Force user through these areas.  To me, Makeb feels like it had more potential than it received. I've read more than once that there were several other planets intended for expacs that were scrapped; perhaps with them, and a wider arc, Makeb would have played differently. All the same - come here for the scenery. You probably won't want to stay for the gameplay. 

[ssummerscyclops]

“YOU HAVE A DREAM ; I HAVE A PLAN.” 

BASICS 

NAME | scott summers AGE | 35 OCCUPATION | former teacher at the xavier school, former leader of the x-men. currently, scott functions mostly as a pilot and offers tactical advice where he feels it’s useful.  ALIAS | cyclops GENDER | cis male SEXUALITY | bisexual  AFFILIATION | x-men, the nomads by extension.  SPECIES | mutant / metahuman 

POWERS / ABILITIES

+ scott’s mutation allows him to shoot red rays of force out of his eyes, made from the cosmic rays that his body is continually absorbing and metabolizing. he can control the trajectory of these rays to varying degrees of success.  + he is immune to the powers of his younger brother, havok + scott is an expert level pilot, like his father christopher, and an expert level hand to hand combatant. 

TRAITS

+ selfless, intelligent, resilient

- overly cautious, control issues, emotionally closed off 

THE PAST

in a very literal sense, scott summers is born before his father’s plane ever begins crashing. there is a life lived, a happy little boy eager to grow up beside his younger brother, to see the world from above, parting clouds without effort--scott cannot remember that life, that little boy, but he’s there somewhere, forever just beyond the tips of his fingers. for the man who would become the cyclops, would become the face of a struggle that had been fought for years before he was even born, the world began in fire, in pain. the world began the moment scott summers opened his eyes, in an effort to save his own life, and saw red for the first time. 

he did his best to keep alex safe after that--got them to a hospital without injuring anyone, refused to leave his younger brother’s side to get his eyes looked at, but it wasn’t enough. the younger summers would be the first and most bitter failure that scott would swallow down, would lock away. they were seperated due to the influence of a man who called himself by many names, but who scott would come to know primarily as mr. sinister--alex to a nice family who would protect him behind their white picket fence, and scott to the state home for foundlings where he could be subjected to any number of tests on sinister’s whim in an effort to unlock the full extent of his power, his potential usefulness. 

scott endured physical and psychological abuse from mr. sinister throughout his early teenage years, as the older man continued to test and experiment with his power. it wasn’t until an uncontrolled blast erupted from scott’s eyes, hitting a crane and sending its payload swinging towards a crowd of people, that scott managed an escape from the orphanage by fleeing. he was once again alone, only this time his eyes would not, and could not save him. they could only hurt, they could only continue to paint the world in shades of red. 

it was charles xavier that saved him--wrapped his hands around scott’s wrists and gently moved them from where they pressed into the sockets, brought him home and gave him the first prototype of the visor, the thing that would allow him to see, to breathe again without the searing pain in the back of his skull. it was charles xavier that gave scott summers something to continue living for, something to hit with the pain and anger that burned red inside of him. under the professor’s guidance he became the cyclops--he became so much  more than the boy who fell to the earth that day could have ever hoped to be. 

he was barely a man, still twisting his limbs in an effort to rid them of growing pains, but the professor trusted him with the team, trusted him with the dream they had come to share--if xavier was the head, scott summers, the cyclops, was the red right hand. it was as close as he had ever come to being happy, it was as close as he had ever come to being able to forget everything that had come before--he had a goal, he was finally making up for not being able to save alex, to save himself when it mattered. he didn’t need to be liked, he didn’t need to be loved, he just needed to be good at what he was doing--he just needed to control his life for once. 

but like most things scott had come to love, had come to cling to, the x-men had an expiration date. with no team to command, with magneto’s arm draped firmly around the professor’s shoulders, scott had nothing left, scott was exactly where he had started, alone with the earth around him razed and smoking. but he was older now--he was more now. he tried for six months, to live just as himself--but the cyclops did not allow himself to get knocked to the ground, the cyclops may stumble but he always got to his feet. so scott made his way to sokovia, made his way to what remained of his family, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t see it through to whatever end it takes--because while red would always be the color of blood, of fire and chaos and destruction, it was also the color of rebirth. 

THE PRESENT

scott retired, after the x-men dissolved--tried living just as scott summers instead of cyclops. he tried just teaching at the school, helping emma where he could--but he’d been a soldier ever since he was a teenager, and he knew in the back of his mind that peace, as someone once said somewhere, was never truly going to be an option. he was miserable, his eyes ached from behind his visor--he needed to be on the front lines, he needed to know that he was doing everything he could to keep the dream alive, even if charles had given up on it for his own version of peace. so he packed up, wrapped his visor carefully in familiar yellow and blue, and he headed for sokovia--for the only family and the only cause he’s ever known. 

HEADCANONS

+ scott favors his visor, but even he knows it’s not exactly a fashion statement--he has a couple of pairs of sunglasses with ruby lenses in them that he wears if he goes out in public.

+ the only person he trusts completely is alex, but even then he finds himself wanting to give his younger brother a certain amount of distance--alex didn’t ask to walk in his shadow, and alex has his own issues to work through without getting caught up in what scott deals with.

+ scott is a secret history geek--he has a couple of podcasts that he listens to religiously, and his personal library is very thorough. his favorite movie is lawrence of arabia, and his ideal day is being left alone to watch all four hours of it by himself. it comes from being on his own a lot, with only books to keep him company.

+ scott, in reality, has a hard time controlling his eye beams thanks to some brain injuries sustained after falling out of the plane as a child--because of this, he’s prone to getting really painful migraines. not that he would ever tell anyone he was suffering. 

+ scott is a very skilled pilot, but part of his reasoning for learning how to fly is that he is on some level scared of it--he’ll never forget the accident that changed his life. his stomach always drops for a half a second before he boards a plane.

PLEASE don’t hesitate to break down the door and throw your lovely characters at him <3 

[visionsofus]

If you’re still taking prompt requests, may I please request something revolving around Tony finding/learning about the damage to the compound // Vision (possibly- whatever works with your headcanon) telling him about what happened with Wanda that would prompt Tony’s line in civil war about how she “hurt Vision’s feelings”?

thanks for such an interesting prompt request! I loved thinking about the origin of that line, particularly because it’s the first acknowledgement we get of scarletvision’s relationship. thank you for trusting me with this idea and I hope you enjoy where I went with it. I paired the request with the song Bury // This which I thought encapsulated Vision’s feelings right before the fight in Civil War. 

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request | 

Track #23: Bury This by RVRB

synopsis: Immediately after Wanda leaves in Civil War, Vision reflects on his feelings surrounding her departure.

Vision expected that being forced through five and half floors of solid concrete ought to hurt more, but the physical pain was a ghost compared to the anguish he felt within.  

“If you do this, they will never stop being afraid of you.”

“I can’t control their fear, only my own.”

With Wanda’s last words echoing in his head, Vision hit the second basement level of the compound with an almighty crash. The floor beneath him webbed with cracks upon impact but he made no move to get up. For the first time he didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to go after Clint and Wanda even though they were defecting from the team, even though he ought to stop them. For once Vision wished none of it was his responsibility.

He didn’t know how long he lay there for, only that the agonising seconds went on and on as he ran over and over the hours preceding her departure. She had left him. Of course, she had done more than that, he knew that she was standing up for what she believed in. Vision would expect no less of her.

But she had still left him.

“I’m sorry.”

Wanda had become such a constant in his life, for her to leave so easily hit him harder than her power had.

Minutes, or perhaps hours later Vision became aware that the elevator near him was humming to life, indicating someone was on their way down. The doors opened to the settling dust of the destruction his Vibranium body had caused, and Vision watched Tony step out. His face was grim, an expression usually reserved for battle, but the Mark XLVI was nowhere to be seen. Tony’s dress shoes crunched against the shattered pieces of tile as he made his way to Vision. It amused him that Tony had bothered to take the elevator when Vision’s body had made such a conveniently shaped hole.

“So, they’re gone, huh?” Tony asked slipping his hands into his trouser pockets with a sigh and surveying the disaster of a synthezoid before him.

“One might say that,” Vision said with a heavy sigh.

“And should I ask how you ended up like this?” Tony said walking over and extending a hand to help Vision up.

“Wanda,” Vision said, her name sweet on his tongue despite her betrayal, “threw me through the floor.”

“Lover’s quarrel?” Tony joked, but his smile quickly disappeared at the forlorn look on Vision’s face.

Vision allowed himself to be pulled up, his shoulder’s sagging as he found his feet once more. Never before had he so strongly wished his synthetic body were a little more human, for the hurt on the inside to be reflected equally by the outside. How was he supposed to believe the suffering within when he was so unharmed on the outside?

Tony cleared his throat, sounding uncertain. “So, we get the team together, we go after them.”

“I will not be joining you.” Vision’s voice was soft, but certain. Slowly, he turned away from Tony, brushing the remaining dust from himself.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” Vision sighed, “I cannot…”

He trailed off, disappointed with himself at being unable to finish such a simple sentence. Tony heard the sentiment loud and clear.

“So, I won’t ask you to fight her, you stay as our safety net – I know how you dislike conflict.” Tony strode towards the waiting elevator. “If all goes according to plan, we’ll have her back on the quinjet home before tomorrow night.”

Vision reluctantly followed Tony to the lift, if only so he wouldn’t have to go back up through the damage he had caused to their home.

“I cannot make any promises about fighting her, yet you still want me to come with you?”

Tony’s brow furrowed as he punched in the button for the first floor. “Look, Vision, I don’t know what is going on between you two, but I will not ask you to choose between her and the accords right now. Maybe that’s selfish, but if it means having you in my corner a little longer then I don’t really care.”

Vision glanced up in surprise, but Tony’s gaze was focused ahead. “I get you’re hurting, but I’m only ask that you put your feelings aside for one day so that we can get this situation under control.”

Tony sounded tired and it was then that Vision noticed the darkness shadowing his eyes. He knew there had been much travel between New York, Geneva and the Compound in recent weeks, with Tony spearheading the negotiation. Vision had been so preoccupied with Wanda and himself that he hadn’t seen the extent of the stress Tony had been under. Guilt strummed through him and he hung his head.

“Of course, I will be there if you require.”

“Thank you,” Tony said as the elevator announced their arrival. “This’ll all be taken care of soon enough.”

Vision hesitated to get off the elevator, not liking the tone that Tony used. Could he really be so optimistic to presume that there was any going back now that half of the team had rejected the Accords? Vision tried not to doubt the man beside him as they both headed for the hanger, he was consumed enough with thoughts of trying to bury other, more challenging feelings.

There was plenty of uncertainty waiting for them as they boarded the jet, but through it all there was one thing Vision could be sure of: this would only end in catastrophe.

[human-enthusiast]

Absurd Person #1 - Monkey D. Luffy (kid)

 Let’s start with not only the main protagonist of One Piece but also the first character to give Luffy any sort of injury...

...his dumb, seven-year-old self...

*Disclaimer: I don’t own this image - screenshot from Episode of East Blue

The last time I wrote this, I forgot to hit save and my browser just reloaded the page and lost everything. After that I just went “I’m done” and rage quit Tumblr for the night (which I normally don’t do). That’s how my Sundays usually go😒🥴

Now Onward!

Basic Classifications

Real World Ethnicity/Nationality: Brazilian

Class: farm / country / lower class

Culture (the one he grew up around): Dawn Island - Sea-side village

Fishing community

Farming / Ranching community

Hard work ethic

Small and close community members; relatively friendly; little to non-existent conflict

Selective mix of being open towards strangers (especially with merchant vessels for better trading opportunities) and weariness towards those they expect to be harmful (likes Pirates; I’d imagine the people of Windmill Village were understandably unnerved with the Red-Haired Pirates first showing up).

Core values (personal to Luffy): pride, physical strength, adventures on and outside his home village,

Relation to authority: neutral - shifting slightly towards negative (no clear basis of opinion; can only go off on Luffy’s fascination with pirates as the main viewpoint)

(The added information feels a little scatter-shot but figured I give it a try based on little information from the manga panels and how it lines up with real-world similarities. Most information is based on logical speculation and could change with new information in later chapters.)

I know that the Romance Dawn arc consists of the chapters up until he meets Coby and Alvida (I think...), but the depiction of Luffy’s character in the first chapter seems different from when he is seventeen and setting out to sea. So, I’ll treat kid Luffy as a separate character for the first analysis.

First Impressions and Introduction

Now, I am an anime watcher, first and foremost, so my first impression of this character stems from the Anime. My introduction towards this ball of chaos was when he popped out of a barrel, that he put himself into after realizing that a whirlpool suddenly appeared (how he missed it? - It’s Luffy), and then inexplicably took a nap in. That was the absurd reason I was able to stick with One Piece in the first few arcs (until Baratie became one of the major reasons I stuck with it - I’ll explain why when we get there).

And since the first chapter was used for episode four in the anime, I was already somewhat familiar with how the story started and who Luffy was as a kid. However, reading the first chapter felt....different than what I would’ve expected. And because the anime cut out a few details from the chapter, there definitely are some things to take from kid Luffy at that point.

So my first impression was, as follows:

The kid is unhinged...That explains some things...

Complete wild child of a backwater village from Day 1. 

LIKE-- The anime episode DID NOT explain how he got that scar and the guy didn’t bring it up ever. To be fair, that wasn’t a big focus because the anime didn’t make it a focus. Reading that part though did more for his character and a little of his upbringing, through speculation, making it a rather slow-building but also fascinating introduction into this series.

Just a bit of an add-on, but if the manga introduced Luffy in the same level of neutrality as what the Anime did, It may not have fully made it clear if Luffy was going to be the main protagonist. Then again, it’s a shounen manga, maybe it was rather obvious to everyone else. Regardless, his introduction served to 

(1) Make his entrance memorable

(2) Establish his character that could either compare or set him apart from his teen self.

(3) Act as a sort of precursor towards the introduction of Luffy’s world and upbringing (which isn’t completely established until the last few arcs of Pre-Time Skip)

Personality

The best way I could describe Luffy at this point is a stereotypical kid...

Energetic, short-tempered, adventure-seeking, easily impressed, and ignorant...

That last description is actually something I brought up in a separate post about the “Fluid themes” of One Piece. Because I found that a small but overarching part in many (almost all) themes and world issues that One Piece reflects has some level of unawareness or apathy. Jimbe put it best during the Fishman Island Flashback when they found Koala (paraphrasing)

“They are afraid of us because they don’t know us.”

Know us referring to acknowledging them as people on the same level as humans.

Because of that and plenty of other instances from the East Blue, it can be a potential center for many characters who go up against or wish to explore the world and find that they are a frog in a well.

And that’s what kid Luffy represents. A rather aggressive frog in a well that wants out.

Granted, he is a seven-year-old, whose schooling has a closer equivalent to the 16th and 17th centuries of our world, living in what appears to be a farming community, so I’d imagine his education only focuses on at least the basic levels of reading/writing, mathematics, etc. A small, unexciting farming village probably has more concerns over their melon crops rather than what the world has going on. Adding in Luffy, you get a kid who dreams about being a pirate and adventuring outside the isolated village, making him avidly interested in a world he has no experience with. Or in a world he thinks is all fun and games.

That’s pretty standard for any child that has a mild and peaceful life. No doubt Shanks and his crew would tell him stories about their adventures. Not as a sort of attempt to make him a pirate, but because he was easily entertained by it, building up this expectation with stereotypical pirate personas. And whether he has his “destructive” tendencies before they became a fixture in Windmill Village, they definitely seemed to amp it up enough for Luffy to try and prove he was “man enough” to be a pirate at seven years old.

Then when you add in this idealistic expectation with the selfishness of a young child, it creates an opportunity to learn. Because, as any kid may go through, will find that their fantasy of the world won’t be what they expected, and will often react negatively. Luffy’s expectation of Shanks is that he is the strongest man worthy enough to be a pirate.

Now, Luffy’s view of a “real man” stems a lot from this stereotype of men solving their problems through fighting only. Which also embodies this rather damaging philosophy of never running away or backing down from a fight (which I refer to as stupid bravery - something that comes up in a certain other character).

The amazing thing about all the combined aspects of this kid is the ability to create a learning lesson for Luffy. Which can become a motivational factor in his pursuit as a pirate.

His easily impressed nature makes it known both when the Red-Haired Pirates talk positively about piracy adventures and when Shanks leaves the village. The difference between the moments can be showcased by the difference in determination and will to make an effort to achieve his dream. As he declared he wants to be King of The Pirates, he sets himself to work at it, rather than try and go with others.

How He Shapes the Story / World Around Them

I don’t know if anybody else made a similar connection (I wanna say someone DID but I can’t remember where) but in combination with Luffy’s general enthusiasm growing up hearing wild stories, his narrative reminds me so much of Don Quixote De La Mancha.

It’s been a while since I last read that story-- and by read I mean translate some paragraphs from Spanish to English during my Spanish I class in freshman year of high school. Nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoyed the story. Part I entails an old man who, after indulging himself with various stories of knights and valor, decides he wants to partake in his own adventures. Under various delusions and misadventures, his story becomes a rather well-known one.

Don Quixote was called the first “modern book”. That was something my Spanish teacher mentioned regarding its acknowledgment by the world and always stuck with me. It was one of the first stories of the early medieval period to focus on a regular man. Other stories before this tended to be about legends, gods, demigods-- individuals who often were referred to as legends because they were born into high status (often above humans). Either through original texts (often for religious purposes) and then through varying interpretations (such as the Arthurian Legends), these tales were a part of the status quo.

Kid Luffy is a person that reflects so much of the Don Quixote story (And not just because his village has windmills-- the most iconic scene about the knight’s story). He is that simple, normal boy that longs for his own adventures when there seemingly is already a well-talked-about story about someone who achieved infamy. In place of that is a man named Gold Roger whose execution we see in the manga’s opening. At this point, we don’t have much understanding about how it impacts the world as of yet, we just know it is setting up for something significant to the story.

Luffy becomes that “regular” person from a small-town with big expectations for a grand adventure.

That perspective can slowly build into the story by starting in a simple setting with a character going through one of the first dynamic changes in his life. Luffy’s experience with Shanks’s sacrifice sets a course in his own adventure. A story that trails into a rather bonkers adventure at the end of chapter 1.

His development is what shaped his world. It’s the way he learns when as it stems from the consequences of his actions. Especially ones where the smaller ones turn out to be very costly, making it a hard lesson that ingrains into the young kid. His actions created by his old ideologies sparked an intense reaction in the people around him. Especially Shanks, who felt he was worth losing an arm towards.

How The WORLD Shapes HIM

So, for the sake of the fact that kid Luffy’s “World” in Chapter 1 mostly consists of Windmill Village, I’m adding in Shank’s and his crew’s influence to extend and further give credence to his influence. Because, as of this point, Shanks represents a glimpse into the life of a pirate that Luffy strives for.

With Luffy being in a quiet environment all seven years of life, there is growth through basic schooling and healthy child development (theoretically since Makino seems to be the most likely one acting as his guardian), instead of doing things outside that norm. Now Shanks is the odd factor that creates new development into Luffy’s dreams and future ambitions. 

The crew’s stories, charisma, and connection towards the kid actively (and probably unintentionally) created a positive expectation if he chose to pursue his dream. While that sounds inspiring, there were also negative aspects. Such as driving his ignorance and impatient nature to seek it out too early in his life.

Shanks then became a mediator. Luffy often has mixed feelings with Shanks as the man begets a level of encouragement while verbally making fun of Luffy for being a kid constantly. Despite that, it doesn’t completely deter Luffy’s ambitions. All it does is slowly drop his high expectations in Shanks after the first bar incident. This is again done by his childish outlook of physical strength and bravery equating to his ideal of a real man.

With Higama, Luffy learns about real-world dangers, and how bravery won’t always be enough to win battles. The same can be said for physical strength but at that moment it doesn’t apply to Luffy. 

Shanks’ and the crew’s involvement helped Luffy’s views change. His expectations are fulfilled, which in turn reveal that he was wrong about them.

Finally, seeing Shanks’ sacrifice unfold drove Luffy into a pang of newfound guilt. By then, he was able to change one part of his world views from a childish fantasy into the beginnings of a mature way of thinking. 

He gains some level of patience. Along with a set goal to work with. Attributes which are identifiable with Luffy in the chapters last few panels.

Patience = Luffy took time to train and learn to set sail at age seventeen.

Set goal = Be King of the Pirates

Add-Ons

When I say that kid Luffy, after Shanks’ sacrifice, gained a level of patience, it is meant as a deduction during that chapter. By no means am I insinuating that it became a permanent trait for his character. Because as of chapter 1, all of Luffy’s personality has yet to be revealed.

And this will apply to other posts for various characters. They may behave in ways during or in response to a particular event but it doesn’t necessarily equate to that becoming a whole personality trait. Calling Luffy patient, with having full acknowledgment of his personality during the bulk of One Piece, is completely off. But, there can and will be moments where Luffy will act patient when he deems it necessary.

This is a little hard to articulate but I hope it makes enough sense.

🏴‍☠️🐒

After-Notes

Here’s my first attempt at this analysis. It felt scattered even after editing everything. Breaking down characters sounds easy (and most times it is) but articulating and connecting things takes a lot of work.

Here's to hoping it gets easier with the next character. And maybe shorter paragraphs.

Up Next: Shanks (East Blue)

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 9

so not as polished but it wouldn't shut up. enjoy!

first part here previous part here ao3 here

--

            Ladybug focused on talking to Bunnix first. Why? Bunnix would get the information she needed—one way or another. Perks of time traveler family on your side—a few questions and you get a lot of answers quickly.

            “Bunnix, you saw what was happening to Chat’s suit, right?”

            “Yeah, and uh… might want to restrain him or something until your threat level goes down.”

            Ladybug froze at that. “Explain—now.”

            Bunnix rubbed the back of her neck, looking away from the screen and Ladybug’s gaze. “okay, so long story short, Chat isn’t working with all his abilities.”

             Ladybug sighed as she knew where this was going. “Just like how my suit is too similar to Bridgette’s to be mine, not hers.”

             Bunnix nodded. “I’m not sure if it’s a holdover from the old timeline, or just a Black Cat miraculous thing—family was out of the loop for a gen or two before Grand-père—but if his stories are right, then this won’t calm down until after you’re safe from whatever life-and-death thing sent him off AND he believes it…”

             “Bunnix.” She needed more than that. “What’s happening?”

             “Uh, you know how he’s the only one with a color as part of his name?”

             Ladybug nodded.

              “There’s a reason for it. I don’t know how, timeline hopping side effects and all, but I’m pretty sure that he’s controlling condensed destruction for his Cataclysm, and it’s either leaking—which is bad—or he has some shadow ability. The Chat Noir from Grand-père’s timeline was after his Ladybug to free him from a curse his shadows… well Grandpère changed the timeline a lot for a reason. Whatever happened, haunted him.”

              Ladybug took a deep breath. High threat coming from her partner… “Chat Blanc bad?”

              “Honestly? Chat Blanc is a walk in the park by comparison.”

              Ladybug felt sick.

              “Got it. So what set him off—Murder Robin situation escalating?”

              Bunnix sighed. “Probably when the guy showed up.”

              The building rocked.

              “Gotta go, Bug out!”

              Ladybug snapped her compact shut and ran to where she could feel Chat—another perk of being Ladybug. Always knowing where your other half is when transformed—and sighed in relief when she saw he was hit by Miss Sting before he got anyone.

              Murder Robin was not doing good. Probably. She couldn’t read him.

              “Get him back to Paris and leave him at the museum—secret passage.”

              Miss Sting nodded, grabbing Chat Noir and throwing his frozen form over her shoulder as she ran.

              Green Lantern ran to the room only to see a paralyzed Chat Noir carried by Miss Sting.

              “Should I be worried?’

              Ladybug rubbed her temples.

              “Voyage!”

              “Stay in the library, I’ll fix this.”

              “But—”

              “Please.” Ladybug wanted to scream or cry or something because this is more than too much and overwhelmed would be a welcome change from how she felt at the moment. She was far beyond overwhelmed, in over her head, and whatever other way someone could think up to describe her current situation.

             Green Lantern closed the door for her, walking off.

             “Lucky charm.”

            Why was she given knitting needles? (she missed how Damian’s eyes went wide at the sight of them, something clicking.)

             “Miraculous Ladybug!”

             Ladybugs filled the room, undoing whatever Chat’s cataclysm did to it. it was an old training room, one she hadn’t fixed all the way before…

             A series of training dummies, wooden ‘blades’ (swords, knifes, spear staffs) and a few staffs appeared.

             Ladybug didn’t even say spots off before her timer ran out. Tikki blinked curiously at where they were.

            “Marinette…”

            “Not now Tikki, just, please?”

            Marinette took out a macron from her purse and gave it to the tiny goddess. Tikki took it with a sigh. “Do you want me here for this?”

           Marinette glanced at Murder Robin. Who was tied up, and she could feel had words to say but was going to butcher probably.

           “Private conversation this time. He came after me as me, not Ladybug.”

            Tikki nodded, finishing her cookie in one go.

            “You know how to call me if you want,” Tikki said before phasing through the floor. She likes to check on the plants on the lower levels.

            Marinette took a deep breath. “So, I get the whole rival heir thing and how off-ing rivals is a big thing in history, but uh…” and she forgot where she was going with this. Great.

            “Is it safe to say the flowers were not an adequate apology?”

            Marinette blinked. “What.”

            That was what those were for? Really?

            “The flowers, my teachers said the language of flowers was an important consideration when apologizing, and given your residence I assumed you were not familiar with Arabic, and I doubted your intelligence in English given your grades…”

            Marinette rolled her eyes. “You try being the main hero on-call 24-7 and see how well you do learning your non-sense language. Why didn’t you just say it in French?”

            “That is…” she had a feeling this had backstory he wasn’t wiling to share. “A fair judgment.”

            Marinette took a deep breath, trying to incorporate this tid-bit. Murder Robin was apologizing with the flowers. Which… many levels of ‘who raised this kid?’ and ‘I am assuming child custody’ warring in the back of her mind. He did try to kill her once…

            “And given your lack of defensive abilities, I assumed you would require weapons more suited to your frame, stature, activity level given your social media—”

            “Are you social media stalking me too?”

            “And your boutique. But that’s not the point—I wanted to ensure your safety once better understood that certain things taught to me were wrong. That I was wrong, and I needed to apologize for it.”

            Marinette was seriously debating if this kid was from another timeline. She wouldn’t put it past one of the Kubdels to do it either—the whole family could randomly have a ‘cousin’ appear for a bit to fix something later down the road and no one would be able to tell the difference…

            “So why the daggers?”

            “Mother favored them, I assumed it would be a good weapon of choice for you. I misunderstood your preferences… I hope the rapier is making a fine decoration to your liking at least.”

            “Used it in a few akuma attacks at home actually, so good call there, awkward explanation to Maman and Papa as to why I had one and why I was hiding it.”

            Robin’s face soured a bit. “Yes, Agreste’s… gift.”

            Marinette decided that was a sore spot to examine another time.

            “Yeah, big weapons aren’t my thing.”

            “My mistake. I hope the knives and throwing stars have been to your liking at least.”

            Marinette felt awkward about her (very reasonable) reaction as the (still foreign) information began to shift the picture. Insecure kid with a questionable home life that is in desperate need of socialization… “The ball point pen was a good call—had to add a few decorations to it so I stopped mixing it up. The Swiss army knife is really useful on the days I knew there was going to be too much going on to remember where I put my backup tiny tool kits.”

            Robin nodded at that. “And the throwing stars?”

            “Uh, may have turned a one or two into hair accessories, but haven’t really had the time to test them out with everything.”

            Robin nodded, mulling something over. “Okhti Al Kobra?”

            Marinette looked at him when he spoke, trying to get his meaning(s) and not just the surface. If Alya was there, she’d use her gut. But Marinette’s gut is an overacting jerkface that she refuses to trust at the moment…

            She might ask to borrow Wonder Woman’s lasso later.

            Or see if Alya has leveled up as a Fox enough yet to sense what Marinette needs her to. Maybe she could just borrow Trixx?

            “I haven’t told the others who you are.”

            Marinette paused at that. “But it’s the Ghosts of Gotham, you guys kind of know everything.” And are unofficially the ‘check’ to the superhero community if anyone goes rogue. At least for who the bats met. Crap—is there a file on her too? Maybe she’d ask the LoS if they could destroy hers…

            “I assumed the same. Apparently Father didn’t know about you until Aquaman confronted him on the matter.”

            Oh… oh. Oh! She… she outted herself. great. Wonderful.

            Marinette sighed. “That’s… good. I think.”

            “I doubt they’ve realized who you are yet. If my memory serves, Grandfather said only those most trusted by the God-touched could figure out their secret identities.”

            Marinette was grateful for Trixx’s twist to all miraculous magic, she really is.

            “So safe on that front, for now.”

            “Correct.”

            Marinette had a feeling he had more to say on the matter, and let him find what he had to say.

            “I know your identity, and that compromises you… You may compromise my own. I am Damian Al-Ghul Wayne.”

            Marinette’s brain shorted for a moment and needed time to reboot. And proof… and time to understand what just happened (and get the urge to kidnap this child out of her system. That was. No. Bad. She thinks. Maybe… he’s tiny and doesn’t even have magic protecting him! probably.)

            “Do you mind if I…”

            Robin—Damian. Damian lifted his head and nodded quickly.

            Marinette took off the mask and memorized his face. Shape is congruent with what she remembers of the latest Wayne Heir in a picture when Adrien and Kagami got at the Wayne Galas last year. It was the first time either family was invited.

            She had a feeling Ro—Damian. Damian was behind that… He could have been gathering information, but why? to learn about her, or Kagami who she knows he’s fenced against.

            Kagami who might have put things together and she needs to damage control there next. Great. (What is she the guardian of again? Lately its felt like miraculous wielders and not the kwami.)

            Marinette could sense Rena getting close.

            She put Robin’s mask back on and transformed wordlessly. Tikki must have returned at some point.

            “Can I come in?”

            Ladybug and Robin were in place then. both behind more comfortable masks.

            Ladybug went to the door and slipped into Gaurdian. The chances anyone besides her team knew it were slim… and she’d rather not ask Wonder Woman for her lasso… just in case.

            “Can you do me a favor?”

            “Yeah girl, what do you need?”

            “Just… let me know how you feel about his next answer.”

            At Rena’s nod, Ladybug turned to Robin as she let Rena in.

            “Have you answered my questions truthfully?”

            “Yes.”

            “Did you withhold information you believe to be important?”

            “Not consciously.”

            Ladybug looked at Rena.

            “I…” Rena kept scanning him, looking for something. “Why the…” she trailed off as her eyes went wide. “oh. Oh That happened.”

            Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “Uh, those were very loud whoosh with a bell. I think that means truth, just, wow.”

            And Rena’s ability to sense lies has a new manifestation, good. Downside—Alya will probably have it too and she may have been trying to delay this…Trixx will be happy at least, and no need for lasso of truth.

            “Well, I’ll be back in a bit. Rena, feel free to go home for a bit and rest up.”

            --

            Marinette almost screamed when she got home. She’d only be in her room for fifteen minutes tops—but still.

            Maman and Papa told her they’d be at a catering gig tonight, so she didn’t have to worry about them checking up on her once they left.

            No, she had to worry about the pics she was checking from her feed a year ago… which included Damian’s face for the Wayne Gala.

            She could have been a Wayne.

            She’s not, and she’s not mad just… wow. (Gotham/bullet dodged?)

            Which meant Bruce Wayne is likely Batman, and by order of appearance… Nightwing must be Dick Grayson-Wayne, Red Hood (who makes zombie jokes, like, a lot according to Gotham’s #Batwatch #OnlyinGotham twitter accounts) is probably Jason Todd, who died. Timelines match and she has questions. Many. But then there are more horrible realizations to make. Like Red Robin is probably Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne (does he have a not-first name anywhere in his name?) who she consulted as Marinette and designed a suit for two days ago. And his blonde friend (who was in her bakery. She debated her. just. Fuck.) was probably Spoiler who is the current Batgirl, and if she bothered to check his friends’ list, she’d probably find the girl’s real name. Cass was obviously black bat (only one who doesn’t mouth off in every fight, gave very short responses during their debate but agreed with Marinette so is probably smarter than the rest). Oracle is a mystery (thankfully. She’s certain she’d lose her tech forever if she found out who the woman was and it wasn’t on said woman’s terms).

            Just… a lot to take in.

            Once her parents were gone and Marinette had her brain (mostly) back, she texted Adrien that “latest situation was handled, talk tomorrow.” In response to him trying to make her phone explode with the sheer volume of texts he sent her.

            Not even five minutes later Chat made his way into her room, shadows still rolling. “What happened?”

            “I… long story short? I’m pretty sure he’s been brainwashed or something and Fox’s seal of approval on him telling the truth—he was leaving flowers and weapons as apologies and ‘here, to protect yourself’ things which is kind of sweet in a really, really messed up way that I do not have the capacity to process. He won’t be a problem—I have his secret identity and he has mine—apparently the other Bats haven’t figured it out, and didn’t know about me until I blew up.”

            Chat’s shadows settled on his suit. Returning to the familiar leather pattern. “Really?”

            Marinette nodded. “Really. Its to the point I have to remind myself not to adopt him—he needs help, and I doubt letting tiny child fight is a good thing.”

            “Anything on Bat-threat?”

            A smile twitched on Marinette’s face. “We both know you already checked.”

            Chat grinned at that. “Yeah. Wonder Woman took out four bodies and threw them into those tube thing-ies.”

            Marinette shook her head. “Oh, and you have a new thing that I have to watch for.”

            “Oh, I do?” Chat looked around, examining himself.

            Marinette shook her head at him fondly. “Shadow suit.” Once she had Chat’s attention, she continued. “You were a little…”

            “I’m going to guess not me?”

            “Miss Sting said paranoid in her messages, extra aggressive and then you almost killed brainwashed murder bird.”

            “Are we changing the nickname now?”

            “… honestly I’m debating just calling him a crow at this point. Maybe fix his suit to match so there’s less awful traffic light.”

            “It would be a great public service,” Chat added as he wrinkled his nose. “who makes a child a traffic light.”

            “Apparently the donor.”

            “Donor needs fashion advice.”

            “Can’t, he’d try to ruin mine with a god-awful color scheme, and I refuse.”

            Chat snorted at that. “So, these guys… where do we stand?”

            Marinette hummed. “Sent the ‘not trusting them at all’ back already… I say we keep Robin for now and figure out what the hell made him think murder is okay and if its still encouraged then…”

            “Then we do a ‘this is my many times removed relative who lives here now?’”

            “No. I tell Gina, she gets the documents ready, and then I introduce him as my bio mom’s cousin’s kid and tell them he’s staying in paris and wants to connect.”

            “You do realize his mother probably has a stance on this.”

            “Shhh, cousins.”

            “Shhh, someone is bound to notice.” Chat countered, shaking his head.

            Okay, would gotham notice a Wayne missing? Probably. Would they really try to look for him is the question… and how easy would it be to fool them if they did find him? Maybe have Trixx help with Markov?

            “I doubt he uses social media, so low chance there. He thought everyone knew the language of flowers… I think either he was taken from a cult, the bats are a cult, or both.”

            “I’m leaning to both, why else would he be that level of offensive to fashion?”

            Marinette snorted at that. She has met many fashion disasters that never needed a cult as an excuse.

            --

            Batman was… nervous.

            Wonder Woman was giving him and his kids (minus Damian. Who has not made contact with them yet…) a series of looks that he knew meant trouble.

            “In our defense,” Dick began.

            “There is a baby bat in danger, what were you expecting?” Stephanie continued.

            “And you were the one that thought we should be ready for any contingency,” Tim added while clinging to some unholy combination of energy drinks.

            “Little sister. Needs help.” Cass tacked on. “We help.”

            When eyes turned to Jason, he only gave one explanation: “Kid facing city-wide drownings regularly, brainwashed buddies daily, and superpowers, and extra overt terrorist targeting the kid. What were you expecting?”

            Tim snorted at that. “Me thinks he forgets he taught us how to bend and break rules.”

            Stephanie nodded from her location. “We weren’t told it was no bats, just no Batman.”

            Diana glared at Bruce.

            “By the time I checked their trackers, they were turned off and no longer responding to their communicators.” he had a feeling Agent A or Oracle may have helped them… but no proof.

            Jason rolled his eyes. as they did have a ‘Bat-free’ set of comms—a set of phones they changed just enough that Bruce couldn’t keep track of them and relented to a ‘civilian only’ cells that he would not track, tap, or try to under threat of Babs.

            “We are very independent,” Tim added as he drank his questionable concoction. Bruce didn’t even ask where he got it from at this point.

            Wonder Woman narrowed her eyes. “I am making this clear now—you are not to approach, contact, or even look into Ladybug, her identity or her city’s issues without her explicit permission. Am I clear?”

            There was grumbling from his kids.

            “Crystal,” Batman answered. Once Diana seemed satisfied for the moment, he decided to ask. “Have you heard anything about Robin?”

            Diana paused. “Not yet. When Ladybug has what she needs, she will likely send him back, or ask to keep him in a location she deems secure until this matter has blown over.”

            Bruce didn’t like that. At all.

            His kids didn’t either, each readying for a fight.

            Diana could tell what they were thinking. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Given Ladybug’s age, and that now two of you,” she cast a glare at Jason, “Have threatened her and her team in the mask, I doubt she will be very trusting. Nearly being killed by fellow heroes is not something one gets over very quickly.”

            Tim rolled his eyes. “She’s a bat, give her like, two, three weeks tops. You get over it.”

            Diana shot Bruce, not Batman, but Bruce a look.

            “I was lost in the time stream when that happened.”

            Diana rolled her eyes.

            “To be fair,” Dick added, “Damian has tried to kill most of us at first, me included, but you get used to him.” At Diana’s eyes getting wider, he backtracked. “He’s gotten a lot better since we worked on the Robin code and he’s working on his own. Top of his list was apologizing to those he wronged just… didn’t do it the best way.”

            Tim snorted. “Speak for yourself.” He got a lot of photography equipment and Redbird back… plus a few other things as Damian’s form of apology. The only one he wasn’t that big on was the ‘I will invade your hideout to ensure you are resting properly’ no matter how many times he said he was on black out. It didn’t help that Dick encouraged it and Jason had already been doing that. The only ones who gave him breathing room was Stephanie and Cass, which is why they are his favorites.

            Dick sighed. “He used flowers and weapons on the girl for two years.”

            Diana twitched at that. Ladybug had been twitchy because she thought she was being watched. That… didn’t bode well.

            Bruce made a pained sound. “Please tell me he left a note.”

            “He didn’t.”

            The bats did what they have a habit of doing during these situations. Look at each other, sigh, and maybe drop their head into their hands in shame. Mentally of course. Externally they can’t—gotta keep up appearances and all.

            Jason broke the silence. “So, who’s turn is it to fix it, because not it.”

            “You were disqualified before this started.”

            “Not it!” Stephanie said quicklying.

            “Not it,” Cass agreed.

            “I got it the last time, not it.” Tim added.

            “Batman you were already disqualified,” Diana stated before Dick could avoid being it.

            “Why is it always me?” Dick wanted someone to explain why he’s in charge of every other Bat’s problems. He loves them, he loves helping them, and Damian is his Robin (Bruce can fight him on that, he knows that was Bruce is for himself, he is to Damian).  But it would be great if someone else did this too. “Can’t Babs help?”

            “Who’s taking care of Gotham again?” A voice said over the intercom. “My birds.”

            Dick sighed. “I get it. But I can’t do much from this end.”

            Diana whistled to get the bats to stop. “He will handle this himself.”

            The group shot each other looks. In theory he could, in practice… they wanted their contingencies, okay?

            --

            Marinette transformed and went into the portal, this time with Chat at her side. she noticed the shadows started to move once they got in the temple… she’d need more information on that another time.

            “Behave.”

            Chat rolled his eyes. “Don’t I always?”

            Marinette narrowed her eyes.

            Chat looked away and went into the room from before. Green Lantern had taken to checking up on Robin while they were gone.

            “Should I be worried?” Green Lantern asked.

            Ladybug raised an eyebrow at Chat. “Probably not.”

            She could feel Green Lantern look at her.

            “This isn’t going to stop until he thinks the threat is gone…”

            “Ah.”

            Ladybug glanced between Chat and Mur—Damian. Damian. Damian who had the worst murder apology tactic in history. (Seriously, flowers and weapons. What the hell?)

            Chat walked up to him. “Not going to apologize for protecting my Lady.”

            Robin didn’t seem insulted. “I would have to remove you as her partner if you did.”

            Ladybug almost choked. Shadows were moving more.

            Green Lantern sighed.

            Chat glared. “Well you can’t.”

            “I will not as you have proved to at least have a functional brain. Your skills leave much to be desired, but you are at least capable of adequately protecting my sister.”

            The shadows were settled at least… for now.

            “Why you little!”

            “Robin!”

            “Chat!”

            “What—he started this!”

            Ladybug sighed. She had a feeling these two weren’t going to get along anytime soon.

            “Is that enough for you to get he doesn’t want me dead or anything?” Ladybug asked Chat, keeping an eye on the shadows.

            “For now.”

            “Chat.”

            “Well we don’t have any leverage.”

            “She knows who I am.”

            “What.”

            “I checked.” Ladybug admitted. “He is who he said and I’m sticking with ignoring the implications for another time.” Robin was smiling a bit. and not the murder-y one that haunted her nightmares sometimes. Good. What was she saying? “Oh, and I may have figured out Hawkmoth, but uh, consequences to that reveal would hurt a lot of people if we go in how we wanted to initially. So, I need to work out that plot since telling you may set off the shadows.”

            Chat crossed his arms. “And who is it?”

            Ladybug wanted to rub her temples. But Professional Time. “We both know you and Bunnix have your own things you don’t tell me about things that would be good to know but not good for me specifically. And that’s fine, it keeps Paris safe and our team from having internal issues. So trust me on this kitty. I’ll tell you before it happens. But it will be a lot closer to it happening than you’d like. Just like our usual.”

            Chat… wasn’t happy about that.

            “…fine.”

            Robin watched the exchange. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing to offer at the moment, but…

            “Would it be acceptable if my family offered to help?”

            Green Lantern gave him a look.

            “You have seen our credentials.”

            Ladybug wanted to scream again. just a bit.

            “I have a way, probably, and am not in the mood for American take-overs.”

            Robin thought for a moment. “I could ask mother. She won’t tell father if I ask.”

            “And we trust that why?” Chat asked, shadows not dancing off his suit... but not still either. Interesting… she’d really have to look into this with the scrolls when she gets a chance.

            “Mother and Father have… fundamental disagreements.”

            Chat and her looked at each other, then Damian. They had a feeling he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

            “And how do we,” Chat gestured at himself and Ladybug, “know we can trust her. I barely trust you.”

            Robin was quiet.

            Ladybug was tired. “Look, I can see if maybe the League is a good fit for this.”

            Green Lantern looked up at that. “Batman would find a way to access it.”

            Ladybug took a deep breath. “Not that one, uh, League of Shadows. Old branch that went rogue, but leader is an immortal and was supposedly a top choice for Black Cat for a while.” Until his partner got caught in a trap on a mission and sort of ended up becoming some death cheat. Ladybugs and Black cats are always trained in pairs. One is unfit, the other can’t continue with training. Not that the Green Lanterns needed to know that…

            Robin was staring at her, and seemed… no felt nervous. Not showing it though. “Then you’d be meeting mother or Grandfather then... They go by the League of Assassins now.”

            What even is her luck at this point? (Probably his first cult, and ancient overzealous ally of the Order… she was beginning to think it’s a good thing its going to be rebuilt from the ground up as yikes.)

            “Is it acceptable if I accompany you? They’re not,” Robin was struggling to find the right word. “good with heroes or non-adults.”

            Ladybug sighed. Chat narrowed his eyes, but his shadows were staying put.

            “You can stay until after the meeting and plan is hashed out, but no passing it on to Batman, okay?”

            “Understood.”

            Why did it feel like she had a million things to do still? This would be much easier if she had her team, well, whole, instead of missing two miraculous. One of which she still had to fix… she hopes Sparrow is okay with helping on that still…

            And she has a damn test tomorrow… Maybe Mandeliev will give her extra time since she was made news as Marinette being stalked by Robin?

            ---

DONE! This was a long update, and Damian and Marinette are awkwardly trying but uh, understandably, Marinette still has a lot going on and no time to process since her life is a mess with or without the Bats invading. Lets not forget, she still has tests at school because life on top of the crazy that’s been tacked on recently.

Oh. And apparently Talia wants to be involved, so that’s a Thing. Rah may or may not want to show up, I kind of just roll with it. feel free to add to insanity as always, since the group decided to tie up somethings... but not everything.

Marinette may know, but batfam doesn't. only damian does. who is still not back.

Also, thanks to those noticing plot hole fixes and tags are basically open until its a wall of tags.

again, if anyone find out how to insert/add a readmore, feel free to message or leave a comment.

TAGS:  @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace@jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang @dreamykitty25 @emu-lumberjack