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thetomorrowshow · 2 years ago

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in a ship of glass - ch. 3

Masterlist - Previous

final chapter of scott's backstory before we move on to any one-shots! this one is a bit heavy, mind the warnings

cw: depression, suicidal thoughts, character death (loss of a parent)

Scott’s twenty-three, and Aeor is dead.

It’s so sudden that he doesn’t know how to handle it. He needs to call his therapist, he knows, but he’s still so shocked that he hasn’t even begun to grieve yet.

And the fault belongs to that prick, Solidarity.

There’s a lot of heroes in Empires City, and Solidarity is not one of them. He advertises himself as such, but it’s clear to all that he has it out for the heroes. One of the new upstarts, Gem, has already been injured by Solidarity while trying to cooperate with him. The man is worse than a menace, he’s a genuinely dangerous supervillain and Scott’s not even sure what his power is, but he hit Aeor with a meteor and now Aeor’s dead.

Scott’s never hated anyone other than himself, but he hates Solidarity. Solidarity has taken everything from him, everything, and he just knows that he needs to take everything from Solidarity.

Not yet, though.

Not yet, because right now, Scott can’t get out of bed. He lies there and stares at the ceiling, aware that at least some of the sluggish feeling comes from missing medication doses and won’t be solved until he gets up, but getting up is just too much to handle without Aeor.

And then he realizes that he has started to grieve, as much as he wants to deny it. Because if he can still deny it, he can still deny that Aeor is actually gone. But he can’t get out of bed and he cries at the drop of the hat and he lies there for hours staring at nothing.

Aeor’s gone, and his emotional state registered it before his mind.

He doesn’t do much these days. He contacts Pearl and the Mad King, asks them to handle the supervillains until he has a chance to get a hold of himself. They both agree to try, but ask him to get back out there as soon as he can.

Crime rates in the city go up. It’s not their fault; it’s his.

Scott lies there for days on end, thinking back to why he came to Empires City in the first place. He’s already in a bad headspace, and that just makes it worse. He knows he needs to be taking his meds. He’s beginning to spiral. But he can’t make himself get up.

He stops answering his phone, stops checking the mail, stops doing everything. He lies in bed and binge-watches Youtube videos, or reads fanfiction, or scrolls through Reddit, or sleeps, or stares at the wall.

Notifications come through. First texts and calls from Jack, then from other friends as Jack apparently enlists help. He watches the calls pop up on his phone, stares at them until they disappear and his phone vibrates with the voicemail alert. He doesn’t even delete the steadily-increasing number of unopened voicemails in his inbox.

He’s so tired. He doesn’t want this to go on any longer, but he can’t manage to break himself out of it. It should be simple. He needs to get up, take his meds, call his therapist, take a shower, brush his teeth, change his clothes, do laundry, get the mail, go grocery shopping. . . .

That’s too many things. He can’t manage that. He can’t fathom doing that many things. He can’t.

He doesn’t feel well, either. He has a running headache that hasn’t stopped and won’t stop, the idea of food makes him nauseous, he can’t stop shaking—it’s not an excuse. It’s really not. But he just can’t get up.

So he stays in bed, stays there until his doorbell rings one morning, then rings again and again. He doesn’t get up, just covers his ears and sucks in a shuddering breath as he realizes that it will never be Aeor at his door again.

There’s a loud pounding on the door. “Scott! Open up before I break this door down!”

Shelby.

He hasn’t seen Shelby since they went out for drinks. . . three months ago? Too long ago. Back in college when he would sink into a bad place and miss classes, his friends would call for her to make him get up. Shelby’s made phone calls to his therapist several times to ask what he needs or if he can take his meds after missing two days of them or to schedule an emergency appointment for him.

He must be getting pretty bad if they called in Shelby. Her career is really taking off, she doesn’t have time to come out here and try to fix him.

He has to get up. He has to get up and let her in, then take his meds, then make them both food, then change his clothes, then brush his teeth, then talk to his therapist—

He hides his head under the blankets. Maybe she’ll just go away.

There’s a couple of minutes of silence. “Scott, I know you’re there. We’re worried about you.”

He doesn’t move. He can’t move.

“I’m going to try the windows, okay?” She sounds worried, moreso than Scott’s ever heard her. “Just—just tell me if that’s not okay.”

It’s fine, he supposes. He doesn’t really want Shelby to see him like this, but she’s seen worse. He thinks he left the windows unlocked, anyway—he shouldn’t, he knows the crime rates, but unless he always leaves them unlocked then he accidentally leaves them locked at inopportune times and then can’t get back in when he forgets his key while out patrolling.

He listens, hears the stilted slide of his front living room window. Tears build in his eyes. Shelby’s coming in, and he’ll have to get better. She’ll make him do all those things that he just can’t do, and he’ll do them, and it’ll be so hard.

A fumbling sound and a loud thump! followed by a groan reach Scott’s ears. He bites his lip, waits for his bedroom door to open.

Within about three minutes, it does.

“Scott? Is that you?”

He sighs, burrows a bit deeper. Shelby clicks her tongue.

“So you’re right here. And you couldn’t get up and answer the door? I stepped on your dying flowers.”

Scott waits. Part of him wants to get out of bed, greet her. Part of him doesn’t want her to see him like this. Part of him is so very exhausted and can’t move, even if he wanted to.

His bed dips a bit with her weight, and then there’s a hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently.

“Scott? Can you look at me please?”

Scott shivers, starts shivering and can’t stop. He’s not crying—he doesn’t think he’s crying—but he doesn’t know what to do. Eventually, he pulls the blanket down a little, blinks up at Shelby.

Her brow is creased with concern, a frown twisting her mouth. Her clothes are wrinkled, like they’ve come from a suitcase or she’s been sitting in a car all day. Her eyeliner is smudged, just the way it always looked after hours in the library—like she’s been rubbing her eyes repeatedly.

“Hey, Shelby,” he croaks. He waves vaguely at himself and the room. “Sorry you have to see all this.”

“Have you been taking your meds?”

Scott shrugs. She’ll know it means no.

“When was the last time you took them?”

He doesn’t know. He legitimately doesn’t know. All he knows is that he hasn’t showered in at least a week and he always takes them after he showers so he doesn’t think he’s had any in the past week but he isn’t sure, and it could even be longer.

Shelby leaves, returns with a glass of water and his bottle of pills. She steps around the mess on his floor and hands the water to him, twisting the cap open once her hands are free.

“I haven’t showered yet,” he protests weakly. She fixes him with a raised eyebrow, shakes a pill into his free hand. Scott stares for a moment at the little pink pill in his palm, looks back up at Shelby. She glares at him.

Scott swallows the pill.

With her there, he finds the strength to sit up, blanket-wrapped legs hanging over the side of the bed. He bites back tears. Everything seems like so much.

“Do you need to eat with that?”

Scott takes a minute to process, glances up at the prescription in her hand. “No.”

With a slight sigh, Shelby drops onto the bed beside him, shoulder to shoulder. “So. You know you need to take your meds. Why haven’t you been doing that?”

“Couldn’t get out of bed.”

“Why?”

Scott picks at the blanket on his lap. “Too much.”

“What happened?”

There’s tears in his eyes again, and he spares himself a few minutes to think about how much he can say. Only three people in the world know he’s a superhero—no, two people. Outside of his therapist, only Jack knows, and Scott hasn’t seen Jack in maybe longer than he’s seen Shelby.

His voice breaks; he clears his throat and tries again. “My—my dad died?” he says, voice quivering. Shelby sucks in a breath.

“Oh, Scott,” she says, wrapping an arm around him. Scott falls into her chest, trying and failing to hold back tears as his shoulders shake. After a few moments of holding him, she adds, “I . . . well, you always said guardian at school, so. . . .”

Scott sniffles, nods against her. “Yeah, he—he was—yeah, he was pretty much my dad.”

Shelby makes a noise of understanding, then just holds him as he cries. Once he feels like he can breathe a little, his face sticky and Shelby’s shirt damp, he draws back.

“I can’t—I can’t break out of this,” he manages, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his shirt like he has countless times this week, leaving it crusty and gross. “I’m just—he saved me, Shelby, he—he showed me how to survive and be happy, he found me—” and suddenly he’s spilling everything— “I-I overdosed, years ago, I just wanted to die, and he found me and took me to a hospital and helped me. He gave me a home, he found me someone to talk to, he helped me apply for school—he gave me life.” He pauses for a breath, a breath during which Shelby speaks.

“I . . . Scott, I didn’t know.”

Scott’s not sure what she’s talking about: the death of Aeor, his attempt, all that Aeor had done for him. . . . He chooses to believe she means the attempt, and shrugs.

“I didn’t really advertise it,” he says. “What am I meant to say? ‘Hi, my name’s Scott, I was raised in a cult and because of it I tried to kill myself’? Really, Shelby.”

He means it as a joke, but she doesn’t laugh. Her eyes flash wide, her face horrified. “Don’t—don’t joke about that!”

“What? It’s my trauma.”

“Yeah, but—” Shelby rubs her eyes, smearing the eyeliner further. “Scott, you’re really self-destructive right now! And you have episodes like this! I never knew you were—you know!”

Scott frowns. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“Maybe not to you,” Shelby shoots back. “But you weren’t answering calls or texts or even the door, and I was scared but now I know it’s possible that when you aren’t answering you could be dead!”

Scott looks away. It’s always been possible, really. Especially lately. He hasn’t been doing well. He hadn’t noticed until now, but he hasn’t been doing well at all in those regards.

“I think . . . I think I need you to stay. For a while,” Scott mumbles. “I don’t—I don’t think I’m going to try again. But. I don’t think I can do this.”

Shelby takes his hand in both of hers, rubs it between them. “I’ve got clothes packed for a week. When Jack said you hadn’t answered any messages in a long time, I knew what I was in for.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, silly,” she says affectionately. “I offered to come up here, and you’re going through it. You don’t have to be alone.”

And he’s not alone. That first day, all they do is lie in Scott’s bed and mess around on their phones. Shelby makes pasta for dinner and Scott does his best to eat, but his stomach turns and he barely manages to keep down the few bites he takes. Shelby doesn’t like that, he can tell by the wrinkle of her nose.

She doesn’t like it the next morning when his breakfast comes back up, either. She checks his temperature, frowns, and calls his prescribing doctor.

“You’re still feeling the effects of withdrawal,” she says when she hangs up. “It should start getting better soon, but you shouldn’t have stopped taking them for so long. How long do you think it was?”

Scott thinks back, tries to remember the last time he’d taken them. Tries to remember the last time he’d had motivation to take them. Tries to remember the last time he’d wanted to take them.

“Um. Shelby?”

“Yeah?”

Scott takes a deep breath. His head already feels clearer, just by having her around. He knows now what his intentions had been, as awful a realization as that is. “I didn’t want to take them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I stopped taking them,” he says slowly, pressing his hands to his temples as if that will quell the incessant headache, “because I felt like I wasn’t sad enough, and I wanted to feel worse. He was worth feeling worse. And I felt like—my head’s messed up—like I didn’t care because I wasn’t like,” he gestures around at himself, “like this, and I couldn’t bear thinking that I didn’t care. So I stopped. At least a week ago, maybe longer. I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“Oh, Scott. . . .”

“I’m so tired,” he sighs, resting his head on the kitchen table. “The thing is, I still don’t want to take them. Because then—in some twisted way—if I, erm, do something, something bad, it won’t be my fault? Because I’m not sound of mind? I just—”

Shelby holds her hand out. Scott blinks at it. “I—what?”

“Your phone. I’m calling your therapist. You’re getting an appointment today.”

Scott blinks again. He unlocks his phone and places it in her hand before his brain catches up to the implications. “But—I can’t go out like this—I haven’t showered in at least a week—”

“A virtual appointment, then,” she amends, scrolling through his contacts. “You need to put on a different shirt, okay? That one’s gross.”

He talks to his therapist that afternoon. It ends up being an extended session, two hours instead of one, and Scott comes out of it shaking and teary-eyed. Nora gave him some instructions since his thoughts have been fluctuating from passive to active, and for the first time in nearly three years he has to enact the plan that was put in place when he first began therapy.

“Shelby?” he calls once the appointment is done, and after several shouts and eventually a text, she emerges from his bedroom, where she’d been cleaning with music playing.

“How’d it go?” she asks, plopping down on the couch beside him. Scott takes in a shuddering breath, steels himself. This is going to upset her.

“I need you,” he says, words measured, eyes on his lap, “to take my meds and hold onto them. And not tell me where they are. Is that okay?”

He doesn’t look up. Shelby doesn’t answer, so he continues.

“I-I also need you to lock away the cleaning supplies, just—just in case. There’s a lock on the cupboard under the sink, I-I can give you the key. And—well, the knives in the kitchen should be fine. Just don’t—don’t let me cook alone, okay?”

More silence. Scott hadn’t quite stopped crying after his appointment, and his tears are back in full force, dripping down his cheeks and onto his lap.

After many long moments, Shelby speaks. “I—Scott, do you think—?”

“No, no, I don’t,” he hurriedly assures her, solidly ignoring the sudden stuffiness in her voice. “I don’t think I’m going to. But—my head—I don’t think I’ll do anything, but—look, I set up a plan years ago, just in case I was ever . . . in this headspace again. I’ve had to start the first step several times, just ask—” He’s about to say Aeor, but then he remembers. And then he’s fully breaking down.

Shelby, crying herself, comforts him. As she does for the next week.

It’s slow going, recovery. He’s knocked out—almost literally—by the reintroduction of his antidepressants. He spends that time dozing, either in bed or on the couch, while Shelby turns on whatever show she likes. He manages a shower one evening, a full meal the next day. In a surge of energy, he sweeps the kitchen and vacuums the living room, then naps on the couch for three hours. He laughs at a joke Shelby tells, texts back a few of his friends who had reached out.

He mourns, and he grows. He gets permission from his therapist to have his meds returned to his control, once he no longer feels unsafe with them in his hand. It helps, somewhat, to be able to feel more like an adult. It helps to have this, if not much else.

Gem messages him the first day he opens his own prescription bottle again, asks if he’s ever going to return to defending the city because Xornoth is growing beyond the minor nuisance he’s been for so long and Solidarity collapsed a building on her, putting her out of commission for the next six weeks at least.

Right. Solidarity. The one who put him in this position in the first place.

Now that he’s back on his meds and more stable and emotionally sound, he finds that he still hates Solidarity.

At first, he obsessively plans, going as far as to make a stringboard of Solidarity sightings and connections. He’s going to find where Solidarity lives, he’s going to find that man’s family, he’s going to find everything he holds dear and tear him away from it. He’s going to lock Solidarity in solitary confinement and make sure he has no visiting rights and no chance at a trial until long past his death.

He makes the unfortunate mistake, however, of sharing these plans with his therapist.

Nora recommends that he not deliberately seek him out. Not let it go, necessarily, but to not make it his mission to end Solidarity’s life or obsess over seeking him out. Scott’s upset about that answer at first, and he leaves the appointment in a heated manner, but when he returns for his next appointment three days later he can see the sense in the recommendation. He agrees—the city needs him for more than tracking down Solidarity. He can’t let this become an obsession.

He doesn’t have to forgive, nor forget. But intentions, he learns, are very important—Solidarity may be the only villain to succeed, but there are many out there who would do anything for a chance to kill the primary protector of Empires City. He’s better spending his time defending the people from all threats rather than hounding down one.

He’s still not ready to go back into the world, though, so once Shelby leaves with a tight hug and a promise to call every night (she’d stayed a week longer than planned, until she was certain that Scott had his feet back under him), he sets to work on redesigning his costume.

Gone is the gold—he loves the gold, but he needs a change. The gold is replaced with a light, ice-like blue, both lining his white mask and filling out the ‘M’ on his chest. He adds ice blue boots and adjusts the color of the main body, making it white. The biggest change, perhaps, is his cloak: that becomes ice blue as well, but it also loses the hood, turning it into a cape.

He’s been wearing the hood to further obscure his identity, particularly to cover his hair—red is a fairly distinctive hair color, but he doesn’t really think it matters anymore, because in the parts where he can see the dye growing out, his hair is no longer blond.

His hair is growing in blue.

Once he’s sent his new design ideas to a popular superhero tailor (who sends back a message wishing him well), he sits on his bathroom floor and shaves his head. The red locks fall softly to the tiles, and it feels somehow so cathartic that he can’t help but breathe easier.

His hair grows fast, it’ll be a normal length again in no time. And he sort of likes the blue buzzcut.

He’ll have to get a wig, or always wear a hat, or something. Blue hair is even more unique than red. But he feels better. He feels almost happy.

The next day, he pulls on a beanie (his head feels weird and pokey under it) and visits Aeor’s memorial. There are other people there, but he manages to push through to lay down the flowers he’d picked from his front garden. It’s a pitiful offering compared to the many others, but one he knows that Aeor would have appreciated more than anything.

He’s not better yet. That’s okay. He knows it’s going to be a while. But he can function again, and he’s got an email from the mayor offering him Aeor’s old house in the government-funded superhero district and he responds to accept.

He starts volunteering at an animal shelter with the intent of finding a dog to adopt, as suggested by his therapist. Instead he finds a cat—adorable, grumpy Elle, whom he falls in love with after she’s too lazy to leave his lap one evening.

He gets back into life. There’s bad days, but he’s able to function. He can be who the city needs him to be. They grow to love him more and more, and he can’t help but feel proud of how much he’s grown just over the past few months. He becomes the city’s primary protector, taking over for Aeor with natural ease.

Everything’s not okay, but he knows how to handle it. He’s making it, one day at a time.

Scott’s twenty-five, and he hears a noise at the door. He wonders, for the briefest of moments, how Elle managed to get out this late at night. It must be that broken window in the guest bathroom, he thinks to himself. He’s trying to train Elle to be an indoor cat; he’ll have to fix that.

He opens the front door, only for a half-dressed, bleeding-out Solidarity to fall onto him.

It’s going to be a long night.

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literaticat · 3 years ago

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On the topic of that agent who complained but after hours query mails (or any agents who do): as a global business, I am super suprised they don't expect this to happen often due to time zones!

The thing is - there are two people who complained and caused mini-viral twitter moments. One was a pill - the other one had a legit reason to complain, IMO, and I'll give some backstory.

So the one last week was a tweet quoting an agent who was griping about "authors need to send queries during work hours". Ridic, IMO, and that agent seemed to just be a crab. I answered this some posts back but REALLY -- I truly don't know any other agents who would complain about this -- like, he needs to join the 21st Century. Agents who are good at managing their email or who have dedicated query manager inboxes and such don't even KNOW when you send -- and we certainly don't CARE. Authors should NOT worry that we are sitting around being jerks about this, we are well aware of time zones and the fact that most authors have actual jobs and families and whatnot. I have gotten queries on Christmas Day or in the dead of night, or whenever, and I have no problem with that. I get to them when I get to them.

IT GOES BOTH WAYS, THOUGH: I assume that most AUTHORS realize that AGENTS are reading queries on off hours, on weekends, on holidays, right? Like, literally most agents do not have time to get deep on the query inbox during regular work hours. And so, we might send requests or REJECTIONS at any of those times. I have certainly had people complain online -- VERY vociferously -- because I sent a rejection over a holiday weekend. (So much so that I now stress about it... like "oh dang, does Arbor Day count as a holiday? Is somebody going to come at me because I rejected them during Purim? Ahhhh)

POINT BEING: Don't worry about the querying agents thing, IMO.

However, the one from a few months back was a very different complaint, that has nothing to do with authors. In that case, it was an EDITOR who was complaining that an AGENT sent a submission after hours on the Friday of a holiday weekend.

This is a legitimate complaint, for the record. Sorry, but yeah. Agents are professional email-senders. A huge part of our job is making sure that our clients have the best chance possible for success -- that means that, in my experience, we have scrupulous etiquette surrounding the submission process.

These submissions are NOT going to some query in-box to be dealt with in the order received - they are emails going straight to editors themselves without a buffer. Therefore, we want editors to know that we value their time - that we are NOT shotgunning submissions at random, but that we have specifically curated what we are sending them. If editors respect us and believe we are sending them great projects for a good reason, they will continue wanting to open our emails. If editors think we are rude schmucks who send things willy-nilly, they will not want to open our emails. You know?

Part of that respect for editors also includes respecting the fact that weekends, holidays, and the middle of the night are time off. It's one thing to send a response to a quick question or something like that over the weekend or at night - sure, we all check emails on our phones, and it's fine if you just fire off a response or non-urgent inquiry without regard to time because it can be looked at whenever -- it's also fine if something IS time-sensitive and really just needs to be answered ASAP because it's truly urgent -- but a SUBMISSION?

Sorry, but in my opinion, SUBMISSIONS are a big freakin deal and should be treated as such. It takes me several solid days of work (or if I don't have SOLID days to dedicate to it, then those hours spread over a couple of weeks) -- to hone a submission, make a sublist, craft the letter, strategize how and when to send, etc -- it's something on which I spend a great deal of time and care, and I would not throw that away by being sloppy about the email.

If I am prepping submissions after hours or on weekends, I schedule to send during work hours. If I am sending to the UK or another country, I absolutely try to send or schedule to send during THEIR work hours.

If I was an author and I found out my agent was shotgunning my query to random editors after hours on a holiday weekend with no regard to how that would be perceived, I would be PISSED. This is not how you treat important client work.

It later came out that not only this, but also the agent in question is an ACTUAL schmagent -- like the type of person who routinely does not follow best practices at all and is an actively bad apple. And this type of email is Classic Them, and actually part of what makes them a schmagent.

#schmagents #queryetiquette

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electricbluebutterflies · 2 years ago

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something to come back to

Hello world, I watched Moon Knight and I have a LOT of feelings + established relationships with very minimal canon backstory are a good time for me. With that said, this is at-least-vaguely-canon-compliant-hopefully Marc/Layla fluff because I love them. PG-ish and also on ao3.

Prompt: "maybe we should make this a permanent thing." (thank you @apple-grass-and-smiles and your beautiful lists)

It’s an accident, really.

Given her background and line of work, Layla doesn’t see herself as the attachment type, but… she’s also twenty-one and adrift and needs some kind of tethering after What Happened and it is, it turns out, very easy to ignore grief if one has a very pretty distraction. It doesn’t have to be more than that, she tells herself. Just something reliable. Something she can want.

At least, that was the plan four months ago when letting someone touch her more than once was the best idea in the world. Embrace the cliches, become the sort of woman who has recurrent lovers all over the globe. Except… that’s not her, and also she is somehow the more stable one here and that shouldn’t be possible, so…

They’re doing different but occasionally overlapping things, is all she really needs to know. Marc doesn’t run talkative, for reasons she suspects are some kind of trauma-related but that’s the kind of question you don’t ask in this kind of dynamic, but he’s… like her, she suspects. Needs someone, anyone, to anchor him. Too alone.

Point is, she has an apartment in outer-suburbs London and he has… a couple storage units on different continents but no mailing address, she’s pieced together. And apparently she’s a reliable thing for him too, and that’s kinda cool, and-

He’s been here two days. She can’t remember letting someone into her spaces for more than two hours. It’s surprisingly okay, all these things that are new to her, all-

She likes waking up with another body next to her, she’s learned. Likes staying curled up in bed waiting for his eyes to open, waiting for something anything, feeling complete and she knows that’s bullshit and she shouldn’t ever try to find parts of herself in another human being but it is nice to feel safe for the first time in her little life and-

“Hey.”

They’re both between projects, for another few days at least, hibernating until one of them gets a call. A life could be made out of this, she thinks. If she leaves first, she’d feel alright telling him where the spare key is – her apartment is a little chaotic but it’s at least more of a home than some questionable motel – and-

“I like this,” she says in the honesty of half-awake conversations and weight that will not slip from beneath her blanket pile. “You being here.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe… maybe we should make this a permanent thing.”

They’ve known each other four months, Layla reminds herself. Four months is a little fast for what she realizes quickly she means as a vague marriage proposal. But then again, with what they do they’ll both die young and vaguely tragic and it makes sense to move fast, to take what she can as she can because she wants to live before her time runs out and-

“Permanent like how?” All hesitant, like he knows how sacred this space is, like-

“Like you come back here when you’re not working,” she says, shifting her body for a face kiss to make her point clear. “And sometimes I’m here and sometimes I’m not depending on if I’m working. And we each have… something to come back to.”

Not what she wants to say, yet. She knows there are a lot of steps normal people take in this sort of situation, not that any of this is normal, but-

“You really want that?”

“Yeah.”

This won’t be easy. Nothing good ever is. There are conversations to be had before anything happens, but…

For now, she curls up a little closer and lets him play with her hair, and wherever this trust fall ends up, she is ready.

#ebf writes fic #marc x layla #layla x marc

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angels-fluff · 3 years ago

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Ok, so I noticed that your requests are open. I'm in dire need for more Husk x Reader. So, really, anything is cool with me. Especially fluff XD

Sorry that this took so long, I hope you enjoy it still! I apologize ahead of time as it's been a while since I've written a one-shot or at all, really. But I love Husk so here you go!

NOTE: This version of Husk is based off of a fan theory on his backstory where Husk fought in the Vietnam war. In this headcanon for him, he had been engaged when he was drafted. His fiance became upset that he had left her and cheated on him with his childhood best friend. Husk then drank himself to death and ended up in hell and made a deal with Alastor, at first asking that he take away his ability to love, something Al was unable to do for him. So that's a bit of this version of Husk's story! Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stuck...

It was getting late and while he knew he needed to turn in soon for some rest, Husk was still wide awake. It was hard being so far away from home, so far away from his fiance and family. Even with that aside, this war had been violent and letting your guard down for even a second could result in tragedy. Perhaps he’d instead offer to stay on look out while the other soldiers rested. Or maybe he just needed to unwind, read some mail and try to get some shuteye anyway?

Looking over to the small stack of still sealed envelopes, Husk shuffled through them a bit, stopping on a specific one that made his heart both melt and ache at the same time. Admiring the way their handwriting flowed across the front of the envelope. The one thing that he knew for sure in all of this uncertainty was that (y/n) would always be able to ease his nerves no matter where he was. Just thinking about them was enough to soothe him and put his mind to rest even for just a few minutes.

That was when he decided to open it the letter that he had been holding onto for the past couple of days. Eagerly, he opened the letter and carefully unfolded the pages that had been compacted to fit.

“Dearest Husk,

I hope you are doing well, I’ve been keeping busy myself. It’s been really hard to go on each day without you here. I started a new job, I’ve been enjoying it quite a bit.

I don’t really know how to tell you this, but I have moved on. I started spending quite a bit of time with Jimmy, I know you two have been best friends since childhood, so please don’t take this out on him. He’s kept me company when I get lonely now that you’re gone. He treats me good and I’ve fallen head over heels in love with him.

I’m sorry, but I just can’t keep my life on hold, waiting for you forever. It’s time for me to move on from all of that and pick my life back up.

I hope you’ll understand,

(y/n).”

As his eyes continued to reread each line, trying to make sense of the letter that he had just read, Husk felt his heart sinking further with every word. A small, emotionless laugh escaped from his mouth, unsure of if he should be more sad or angry.

This couldn’t be happening, this war couldn’t be taking them away from him too. He didn’t have a choice! He was drafted, it’s not like he could just say no to the government, not without serious repercussions. And his childhood best friend nonetheless, had he always had eyes for them? Even before he was drafted into this damn war?

His chest was getting tight, it felt hard to breathe, this couldn’t be happening, not now when they were what he needed the most. How could he possibly keep going after this? To keep living a life that wasn’t even worth living? A life where everyone left him no matter what he did to try to make it up to them?

“Husk! Sweetheart, wake up!” (y/n)’s voice called out, causing further frustration. Why was he hearing their voice? Why did he have to be this distraught over one person?

“Husk wake up, you’re having another nightmare, hun.” Their voice rang out once more.

That’s when the feline’s eyes snapped open, sitting over the demon with a worried expression on their face, sat (y/n). They were brushing back the messy fur that lay on top of his head as he breathed heavily.

“Hun, did you have another one of those nightmares? ...About her?” they asked, concern still laced in their voice.

“I uh-sorry.” Husk cleared his voice, sitting up and gently resting a paw on his partner’s hand to try to reassure them that he would be alright.

“Yeah, it was another like that, but…It was you.” He admitted, albeit sheepishly. “And before you go and freak yourself out, I know you’re not like that. I’m not saying you are, I just…” His other paw reached up to rest his face in, frustrated. “It felt real. The damn nightmares always do.” Husk huffed quietly.

“I know what you mean though, nightmares like that usually do. It’s what makes them so scary, you don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. You don’t even realize that it’s all just a dream most of the time until after you already wake up.”

Husk nodded as (y/n) spoke, it was true, all he could really do was endure that same pain all over again until he had woken up and realized that it wasn’t real. While the feline was well aware that his partner wasn’t the type to leave in such a cruel way or that he was no longer out on the battle field, there was still fear there. Fear and pain from the past that occassionally still ate at him, one that not even alcohol could really cure, even temporarily. The fear of losing (y/n) and having to go through another heartbreak would be way too much for him. His last heartbreak had been so hard that he had not only lost his life in the end, but also caused him to beg and plead with a certain overlord to simply just remove his ability to love. That, was not something that even Alastor was able to grant him, ultimately resulting in indulging further into his alcoholism.

(Y/n) knew their lover’s background and had quickly picked up on these fears, especially when the post traumatic stress nightmares had really started becoming more and more frequent for him. Yet they had been there by his side ever since they had fallen into hell.

“Well, I can’t change what I do in your nightmares, but I can prove that this isn’t a continuation.” (Y/n) smiled and left a small kiss on Husk’s cheek, his fur gently tickling them as they did so. The demon’s shoulders fell a bit, seemingly easing any tension that he had previously bottled up from the stress of the morning.

He uncovered his face, offering a small smile and a little nudge. “That’s definitely you this time.” he chuckled a bit.

“I brought you some coffee, the way I made mine last time! Because you said you liked it.” (Y/n) gestured over to the nightstand where a mug rested, filled with hazelnut mocha coffee, steam gently rising from it to show it was freshly brewed.

“Oh-Thanks. I’m surprised you remembered that I liked it.” Husk decided to let it sit a few more minutes before trying to drink it. The last thing he needed was to burn his tongue off despite admittedly being rather excited for the drink that his partner had made for him.

“Of course I remembered!” (y/n) smiled, their response making Husk chuckle once again. “And Husk?”

“Hm?” Gently, he picked up the mug to take a small sip and test the temperature.

“I know what she did to you, I know that it’s hard for you to do this sometimes, the whole relationship thing...But I promise that you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ve been really happy being with you, I love sharing stories with each other and you rolling your eyes at my jokes and you making me random drinks to try so you can laugh at me when I make weird faces about it. I love it more than anything and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, not even a ticket straight to heaven. Being here with you, I know it’s where I’m supposed to be and you can tell me that I can leave all you want, but I don’t want to. I want you, I want us, I want this.” (Y/n) held onto Husk’s paw, giving it a squeeze.

Husk set his mug down once again and leaned over to give (y/n) a small kiss.

“I want you too (y/n), as long as you want to be here. So I guess you’re stuck with me too then?” he smiled, the demon absolutely melting as his partner looked back at him.

“Till the end of time.”

#husk x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #oneshot #x reader #hazbin hotel husk

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world-of-aus · 2 years ago

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How do I tell my arab mom I don’t like her friend living with us?

So a little backstory: my mom and dad got divorced. My dad is working in the Central African Republic while me, my brother, and my mom are living in Quebec. My mom's friend arrived beginning of July to Canada and is waiting for his PR card to show up in the mail. They get into fights a lot and usually lasts for few days. This, I feel, affects my mental health because I recently got back from vacation with my dad and the same day I arrived I cried myself to sleep (I don't know why but I think it's because of their stupid fights). This most recent fight made him (my moms friend) book a ticket to lebanon. I cant tell you how happy I was that he was leaving. But however, the reconciled at the end and he cancelled his ticket. It happens a lot. I get angry really easily now because of their stupid fights. And I'm going to be starting university this fall and I don't need this kind of shit on top of university stress. How do I tell my mom I want him out of the house that my dad is working really hard in place he absolutely hates to provide for us the house, and monthly allowances. How do I tell her I am very uncomfortable with a man living with us when my dad doesn’t know about this while my dad is the one paying for the house? Her friend got a part time job at Amazon as a night shift worker and he only went one time this week. He is lazy. How do I tell her I don’t want him to live with us anymore? Side note: he has other friends in Canada so I won’t be like licking him out to the street. This guy is also a grown man in his late 30s. He needs to start depending on himself since he is in a new country and planning to stay here for a while since the situation in lebanon is so bad (which is why my family and I left). I want to tell my dad about him but that would be like throwing my mom under a bus and I don’t want to do that. I feel like the only way is for him to go live alone or with one of his other friends who he doesn’t have a fight with every 3-5 days. (Btw u can reply to this publically, I need all the help I can get hehe)

What I would personally do is sit mom down and have a one on one with her (make sure its just you and her no friend involved). Let her know how you're feeling, what you've been seeing (the fights), and how the environment has been since your mom's friend arrived at YOUR home. Make sure you let her know that you understand she's trying to help a friend, but try as she may to be there for that friend a line has to be drawn. There has to be a respect there, not only between your mom and her friend but her friend with all of you as a whole. He was invited into YOUR home, given a place to stay for free from what it sounds like and if you want to back up any points when you speak to mom tell her that.

If mom can't see your point or simply brushes you off then bring in dad. I know you might feel like your throwing mom under the bus, but dad is working in a place he doesn't like to provide for YOU, he is doing this for you, to give you a place of security, a place that should feel safe, comfortable.

Bringing in dad can be the last of your options though, but it will all depend on your talk with mom and how open you are with her about your emotions. Approach the situation carefully, let her know where your coming from and stick your ground in a calm demeanor. Advise her that you think it would be best for him (because of the fights) that he try and stay with someone else in the meantime till he gets the PR in the mail. Tell her it's what's going to be best for all of you. I can't imagine your mom likes fighting with a male who is supposed to be her friend every 3-5 days. It's tiring. It's toxic.

I do hope you and mom can sit down and that she will hear you out. You deserve to feel at peace and comfortable in your home sweetheart. You shouldn't have to come home from what I'm hoping was a nice vacation with dad to only cry yourself to sleep.

Your mental health is hurting right now and you need to do what's best for you, and that would be first and foremost talking to mom. I hope mom will hear you out and at the end of it all take your side before you have to go about bringing dad into this or at most that's what I would suggest.

If you need anything at all please don't hesitate to reach out to me! ❤️

#worldofausgets 💌

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wolfpants · 3 years ago

Note

Hey hey :) For the ask game: I know you do outlines but I am dying to know the process, so 7. Also, 23, am I here to learn ❤️

Hello! Brilliant, happy to answer these!

7. do you outline before writing? if so, what’s your outlining process like? I absolutely outline before I write. I wouldn't say that I do it from post to post though, although I certainly start off that way. Take my current WIP as an example: I knew I wanted to base this loosely off of You've Got Mail, so I watched that again (pah! like I need any excuse to watch that masterpiece!), and as I watched it, I jotted down a few things I really wanted to include in the fic. And, as it's a soft sequel to Led by Light, I also read that in full and made sure to take note of everything I wanted to bring back to the surface from that fic too, especially for those who don't want to read the Wolfstar fic in order to enjoy the Drarry fic. They would need some context, but I didn't want to bombard it with backstory either. Just some gentle call backs.

So after I did that, I also revisited some media that I knew wanted to inspire the tone of the fic, as it's set in the 80s: I watched the first episode of It's a Sin, because it's set in the same year, I watched Pride, which is a little bit further ahead on the timeline but it's actually filmed in the bookshop that Sirius and Fabian own (which I've been to when I used to live in London but wanted to remind myself what it looked like, and especially what it could have looked like in the 80s).

Some more research - looking at advertisements from the late 70s/early 80s, reading menus from 70s restaurants, reading some blogs from growing up queer in London in that time period, etc etc. So that was all my background research and it was starting to form around the above notes that I made.

I then sat down and drafted out character sketches. Then chapter outlines on a word doc, which I am using now. And which are always fluid. A few more scenes/settings have popped up since I started writing, so I've had to include and think about those too.

Sorry, this ended up being a novel, but hopefully it's insightful! Most of my outlining comes out of shitloads of boffin-y research.

23. what’s something that you think all writers should know? This is an interesting question. I'm not an authority, but something I keep having to remind myself is - I am my own voice. Stop comparing myself to other people, because there is a place for me, I have to be the one to carve it out. Try not to be so self-deprecating, and relax and just enjoy doing it, because at the end of the day, when you're writing, if you're not getting any enjoyment out of it, what's the point? Do it for you!

#ask game #ask #mutuals #de-sire-blog #thank you!#writing #led by light #pages of you #I am a massive nerd sorry

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draco-kasai · 3 years ago

Text

Hero Collaboration Program

Summery: High School Hero Collaboration Program! Helping Sophomore hero students connect with others around the world! Come join us for a two-week-long trip to one of our schools for an amazing once in a lifetime experience with students of Yuuei! Only a lucky 40 students will be selected for this program. They will be split into two groups of 20 and sent to different schools to have completely unique experiences!

A/N: AKA, A very ambitious fanfic I started because even though I have another fanfic in progress my brain decided to give me an idea and I just had to do it. These are all characters I adore and I even did lots of reasurch on them to hopefuly get them down right. I also too many backstories and threw them into a meat grinder to remold them in a way that would make them fit into this universe.

I love Class 1-A, but like they need to be taken down a peg or two, and I want to see them get their asses handed to them.

Ch. 1 part 1 of 3 Program sign-ups. -->

Chapter 1 Part 2

High School Hero Collaboration Program

Helping first year hero students connect with others around the world!

What is the HSHC Program?

Our program has had a partnership with Yuuei High School for 15 long years! Their first-year students would come to our schools to interact, learn and study with other sophomore students for two weeks! - For those who don’t know, first year high school students in Japan would be considered sophomores here in the states! - A select few students nationwide as well as worldwide are selected to participate. All services and activities are offered and provided at no cost to participants or their families. This program is geared to help young heroes become (1) more informed of the educational, social, and cultural aspects available, (2) learn how to work with others they are unfamiliar with, (3) gain a better understanding of hero agencies and laws around the world, (4) assist students in successfully gaining connections with other aspiring heroes around the world their own age.

Student Participants

A total of 40 lucky students are hand selected to take part in this 16 day long program. 28 slots are open for Nationwide applications. The remaining 12 slots are open for applicants across the world! Students are to go through a long application process and in person interview. Once admitted, students will be staying within the dorms that are provided. All plane tickets will be paid for by our program. This program will take place in two schools; Marina High School located in California and Chandler High School located in Arizona.

All partners who wish to apply together must submit a joint application and answer an extra essay question. Only accepting duo teams. Bigger teams are asked to either pair off and sign up as duos, or sign up individually. The whole purpose of this program is for young aspiring heroes to meet others and form connections.

Application

All applicants are required to turn in two essays (unless a team). There is no page or word limit, 12 size text, font New Times Roman, single space. Along with your essays, please send in two teacher recommendation letters. A checklist will be provided at the end of this packet. Make sure to use it to assist you in keeping organized. Everything can be either faxed to (951-262-3062), given to school office faculty to hand to us or through mailed to 1640 Riverside Drive, Hill Valley, California.

Applicants that make it past the first stage of the application process will be scheduled for an in-person interview. A letter will be sent out within two weeks after the interview confirming whether or not you have been accepted.

Essay 1.

When you become a hero, what do you hope to accomplish?

Essay 2.

What major event in your life has led you to where you are now and your decision to become a hero?

Essay question for hero teams.

How did you meet, and when did you decide to work together as a team?

Emerald eyes narrowed as they skimmed over the packet that had been handed to them. With one last look over, they turned to face the person who had given them the packet. Bright blue eyes stared back with a large smile plastered on their lips. “What is this, Grayson?”

“It’s the Hero Collaboration Program!” Richard Grayson – Part-time Gotham Police officer and Underground Hero: Nightwing - responded enthusiastically.

Green eyes rolled skyward at the older boy’s words, “I can see that. All my teachers at school had even taken the liberty to constantly remind us about it. What I mean is, why did you give this to me?”

“Awe common, Kiddo, I thought you were smart.” Jason Todd – Vigilante: Red Hood – joked as he ruffled the younger boy’s black hair. With an annoyed grunt, his hand was swatted away, “We want you to apply for the program.”

With a huff, the youngest fixed his hair, “And why would I do such a thing?”

The oldest boy grinned wider, “It’ll be fun!”

“No.” The youngest replied with a deadpan expression as he tossed the thin packet on the coffee table in front of him.

With a click of his tongue, Jason crossed his arms over his chest. Leaning back on the loveseat, he responded, “Just apply you brat, it’s not even that bad.”

“What’s ‘not that bad’?” Another voice asked as they walked into the living room, laptop in one hand, a cup of coffee in another.

“The Hero Collaboration Program.” Jason responded as he glanced over at the sleep-deprived man as he flopped down next to him.

“Oh! They started accepting applicants already?!” Timothy Drake – CEO of Wayne Enterprises and Underground Hero: Red Robin - sat up enthusiastically.

“Yeah, but Damian doesn’t want to apply!” Dick pouts

“I’m not going to apply to a program that does not benefit me in any way shape or form.” Damian rolled his eyes.

“Wha- but it teaches you so much! Your teachers must have told you about the benefits!” Tim frowned, taking a sip of his coffee.

“They did, but I don’t have any need for socializing.”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve been six years and your only friends are Jon and Maya, and honestly, I don’t think it counts. Maya is in her last year of high school and Jon is a year below you. You need friends your own age.” Jason responded, then waved his hand about, “Even if they're scattered across the continent.”

“I thought he made friends when he was sent to that boarding school in San Francisco for two years when he was eleven?” Dick raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, Titan middle school, right?" Tim hums, "I mean, they helped him become better, I guess?"

"Honestly, I feel like that was the work of the school itself, not them. Besides, Damian doesn't even text or call them like he does Maya and Jon." Jason huffs

“You've been snooping through my phone.” Damian glares as he pulls a knife from nowhere like magic.

"In that case, how will this help him if he isn't even close to people he went to school with for two years?" Tim thought out loud.

"Well, back then it was regular school and classes. Schools don't offer more hero electives till sophomore year in high school. The program does lots of team building and training. What better way to make friends than when your life's in their hands?"

"That's a good point," Tim nods in agreement.

“Didn’t you, like, date Raven while you were over there?” Dick teased, elbowing his brother

“No. I did NOT date Raven.”

“Wha- really? You seemed so close.” Dick blinks in surprise.

"Dude, she's dating Garfield."

"What?! Really?"

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Kori."

"Oh… right, I forgot she mentioned that."

"Dude, she's your wife. If she knows you block out her rants, she's going to kill you."

"... I don't… block out her rants."

“We’re straying off-topic.” Tim hums, hiding his smirk with his drink as Damian, who proceeded to slowly stand, shoots him a glare before a hand grabs the back of his color and pulled him back down.

“Oh! Right, the Hero Collaboration Program!” Dick grins

“I think Damian taking part in the program is a good idea.” Everyone's eyes flickered over to the entrance where Bruce Wayne – Owner of Wayne Enterprises and Underground Hero: Batman – stood with Alfred Pennyworth, besides him. “This program will benefit you and help you make friends with people your own age, maybe even teach you something new.”

“Your brothers all attended the program, master Damian.” Alfred gave the boy an encouraging smile as he handed out drinks for everyone in the room, “In a way you could consider it a tradition at this point.” The younger boy took his drink silently as he pondered the words the older man had given him.

“Oh yeah, I guess it kind of is tradition at this point, huh…” Tim hummed, finishing his coffee and graciously handing the empty cup to Alfred, who shoved a cup of water in his hands.

“I joined during… what? During their third year of existence?” Dick wondered out loud as he leaned back on the couch.

“That’s correct, master Dick.”

“Haa~ I was Bruce’s test dummy to make sure the program was actually useful.” Dick chuckled softly.

“Pft seriously? Thanks for your sacrifice.” Jason smirked, making Tim let out a soft laugh.

“I suppose.” Everyone fell silent to look at the youngest Wayne, “If it’s a tradition at this point, I suppose I have no other choice but to partake in it as well.”

“That’s the spirit, Lil D!” Jason grinned.

“You’ll have fun. You’ll learn a lot, too.” Tim smiled, taking the smallest of sip of his water. With a glare from Alfred, he took a bigger gulp.

“Yes! Oh, man! I can’t wait for you to tell us about it when you get back! Maybe we should tell him stories of our experience!?” Dick energetically exclaimed as he practically bounced in his seat.

Bruce gave the boys a soft appeasing smile as they all cheered, making Damian scrunch up his face at the loud sound. With a soft sigh, he walked across the room to his office. Along the way, he gave his youngest a soft hair ruffle, making him groan.

Damian Wayne. Age 16. Seat 11. Student Rank 1. Hero Name: Red Bird. Quirk: Quirkless

Martial arts, hand-to-hand, sword, expert detective, hacker, stealth.

___

“Alright, class, make sure to think about signing up for that program! It’s a very good opportunity! You’re dismissed for lunch!” Mr. Barkin, a big man with an obvious werewolf mutation, dismissed his class.

A slim girl with long bright brown hair walked next to a beautiful dark-skinned girl with wavy black locks. The ginger hummed as she stared down at the packet that had been handed to them near the end of class, “I don’t know, what do you think Monique?”

“I think it sounds like a lot of fun! Kim, girl, this is an O.I.A.L.T. E; Once In A Life Time Experience!” Monique paused and frowned.

“That was a long one.” Kim smirks at her friend.

“Ugh, I know. Never gonna use that one again.” The girl waved her hand in the air. Both girls stopped in front of a locker, “But It still stands! You should totally do it!”

“But what about you? And – and Ron?” Kim leans against the lockers, watching as her friend opens hers to put away her books.

“Psssh~ Pu-lease, I’ll be fine! I’ve got work at Club Banana and a bunch of homework to keep me company!” The brown eyed girl closed her locker, and they began their trip to Kim’s locker, “As for Ron, well-“

“K.P!!” Both girls turn to see a blond rushing over, “Did you hear about the exchange program!? Are you signing up? Please tell me you’re not leaving me! We’re supposed to be a team!!” He cried out as he hugged his friend.

The redhead huffed softly before prying her friend off her, “Ron, so not cool.”

“Yeah I – sorry K.P I just – I heard about the program and assumed you’d sign up and leave without me.” Ron sniffled dramatically. From his pocket, a small pink rodent climbed up to his shoulder and nodded in agreement, making small squeaking noises. “See! Rufus and I would miss you…”

Monique rolled her eyes with a smirked as she gently pushed the two forward to keep walking, “You know, the program is accepting team sign ups~”

“Wait really!?” Ron gasped as he brought the packet back up to read. “Oh my god, they are!”

Kim frowns, “I don’t know, then you’d really be alone, Monique.” They stop at her locker.

“Oh common Kim. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity! You have to S. I; seize it! You’re not going to be a sophomore forever, girl.” Monique leaned on the lockers with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yeah! It’s a good opportunity to learn about other school systems! Did you see who they're partnered with K. P? It’s Yuuei High school! Yuuei! They're, like, the best in Japan! At least that's what the rest of this thing says and what Yori told me when I did that whole” Ron waves his hand in a circle as he shrugs, “seven day long Japan exchange thing during First Semester.”

“You still have yet to tell us much about that.” Kim smirks as she opens her locker, “Japan is one of those places that have schools that specialize in training hero’s, right?”

“That’s right!” Everyone looked up to the projection of a boy their age sitting at a desk, “Hey girls! Hi Ron, Rufus, Whatcha guys talkin’ bout?”

“Hey Wade. We’re just talking about Some program that’s partnered with Yuuei.” Kim smiled at the screen as she put her things in the locker.

“Oh! The Hero Collaboration Program?” Wade’s smile widens.

Kim rolls her eyes half-heartedly at her friends' excitement. “Of course you’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah! Tell Kim that She’s GOT to GO!” Monique gave her friend a glare.

“Wade! Tell us about Yuuei High School!” Ron practically begged, shoving past Kim before standing behind her again. His best friend shot him an annoyed glare.

With a sigh, Kim finally nods, “Tell us about the school.”

Wade grins and begins quickly typing away on his laptop. A few images began appearing next to him, “As you know, Yuuei High School is known as a hero school. They’re known for ranking number 1 in hero schools across Japan. Their competitor, coming in second by just a bit, is Shiketsu High School. If you ask me though, Shiketsu is obviously better, I mean, look at those uniforms! So wicked! Look at those hats and blazers!”

“Right, about Yuuei.” Kim gently reprimands when she notices her friend is straying off-topic.

“Oh, right! So, from what I’m seeing so far, I think Yuuei has an unfair entrance exam.”

“They have Entrance Exams?” Monique asked with a raised brow.

Wade nods, “Yeah. In Japan, to get into high schools, students are required to take an entrance exam.”

“Right, so, why do you think it’s unfair?” Kim raised a brow

“Well, looking at their sports festival, Just about everyone in the hero program has a “flashy” quirk. When you compare it to other hero school’s and their graduating classes, their quirks are more balanced. Um, one sec” Wade’s eyes narrowed, his pointer finger stretches out like a wire, and he connects to his computer. A moment later, his eyes turn blue and data begins to quickly rush through.

“Is it just me or is he… taking longer than usual?” Ron raises an eyebrow after four minutes pass.

“Mm, another reason to be glad our school has an hour-long lunch…” Monique hums as she leans on a leg, a hand on her hip. They watched in silence as Wade frowned and bit his lower lip. After three more minutes, the boy smirks, disconnecting himself, making his eyes turn back to normal. “Got it.” he grins as he leans back in his seat.

“Uuuuh, got what?” Ron tilts his head in confusion.

“I hacked into their system. It was pretty tricky considering it was made by the smartest being in the world, but nothing compared to me and my quirk. They had a bunch of firewalls and backups too, I think it was a lot of fun to get through.” Wade smirks as he shows them different class schedules for different courses, “I redacted all the important information, but it seems like this school also separates all of their courses. Hero course students, General Education, business, and support. They all learn different things, never interacting unless necessary.”

“That’s… different.” Kim raises an eyebrow. “Um, should you really be hacking into the system of the ‘world's smartest being’ Wade?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Kim. Hack helps make sure I’m untraceable and if Nedzu did get an alert, which I worked my way around, and somehow traces a location it’ll just lead him to random computers in a random location of Japan.”

“Wow, The support course students don’t have any combat classes.” Ron frowned, obviously preferring to look at the schedules to listening to the conversation.

“Hold up - Why does General Education have a Quirk Positivity class? This is high school? Shouldn't they have that class in elementary school?” Monique crossed her arms over her chest. Face filled with confusion.

“Right? Not just that, but the school conducts a sports festival, that they compare to the Olympics every year, that puts all the courses against one another.” Wade closes and erases the schedules, replacing them with a video reel of fights and highlights.

“Wha - why even call it a sports festival!? All they're doing is fighting?” Ron frowns before grinning as he watches one of the students punch another, “Booya! Look at that right hook!”

“Oh snap! He flipped him like a pancake!” Monique grinned as they watched the highlight reels.

“Why would they do that? Isn’t that practically advertising your quirk to all the villains in the area?” Kim rose an eyebrow

“It says that it’s done to ‘promote their students to other heroes for field studies.’ The kids receive internship requests by heroes that want to take them on. It’s dumb though because, according to this, only fifteen students from both hero classes combined got internship requests! And one of them got 4,123 requests!”

“They're promoting their students like they're the newest fashion trend.” Monique frowns, looking away from the video.

“That’s… only fifteen kids? Seriously? What about the others? Do they just… not do anything? Why can’t they all just apply like we do? I - My brain can’t process...” Rufus squeaks in sympathy as he pats Ron’s cheek with his paw.

Monique frowns in thought, “Hey, wait a minute… you said that the sports festival includes all the students, right?”

“Yeah, Three day’s worth of sports festival, one for each grade.”

The girl scoffed, “They're using the other courses to make the hero course look better, aren’t they?”

“What do you mean, Monique?” Kim frowns

“Think about it, girl, you saw the schedules. The hero course is the only course with combat training.” Kim’s eyes widened in realization.

“Duuuude, not cool! If they all had at least the same level of experience, it would be a lot better.” Ron frowns as he crosses his arms.

“Exactly! Personally, I prefer the way our school system is set up. Anyone who wants to take hero classes can take them, and if you don’t finish the credits, you’re in the academy longer. Not to mention, anyone who wants field experience could just apply and do the internships.” Wade crossed his hands over his chest.

“Wade, you're taking support course electives.” Kim smiled softly, “but you have a point.”

“Of course I do! I’m doing field study with the space center! You and Ron go every other weekend to work with the hero agency, and when vacation comes along you’ll be allowed to do more than just patrol. I just… this is just... “Wade signs, “At least I know how to fight and defend myself if anything were to occur.”

“A little worked up there huh, Wade...” Ron gave him a sympathetic smile

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly, “Anyway, will you and Kim be applying guys? They accept duo teams.” Kim thinks about it for a moment before letting out a soft sigh and smile.

“You know what? What the heck, let’s do it, Ron.” Kim smiles, “I think it’ll be really cool to get in and talk to other people not from around here. Make some new friends, and possible future partners.”

“Boo-ya! We’re so getting in!” Ron held up a finger for Rufus to high five.

Kim and Monique smile at one another, thanking Wade, the redhead closes her locker, “We can celebrate with Bueno Nacho AFTER we get accepted. For now, let's go get lunch before the break ends.”

“You think they’d let Rufus in?”

“Ron, I don’t know if they’d let your pet in the program.” Monique smiled

“Gasp! Pet? Rufus is NOT a pet! He is our partner!” the little rodent nods in agreement as he squeaks in response.

“Maybe we could ask when we get past the interview process. We’ll have to see, don’t get your hopes up, though, Ron.” Kim smiles softly, patting the boy's shoulder.

Kim Possible. Age 16. Seat 2. Student Rank 2. Hero Name: Possible. Quirk: Quirkless.

Kung fu, acrobatics and gymnastics, cheerleading skills, martial arts, hand to hand

Ron Stoppable. Age 16. Seat 9. Student Rank 11. Hero Name: Koi. Quirk: Karmic Luck.

His good luck fixes his bad luck. His natural bad luck places him in bad situations, however thanks to his quirk they always turn in his favor. For example, He once tripped over a rock, which caused him to dodge bird poop coming at him.

Basic Hand to hand, Ninjutsu

____

A young teen with black hair sat in a chair in their room, the red sleeves of his sweater pulled up to his elbows as he tinkered with a few things. The door to the room slowly opened to show a scrawny man with his blond hair in a beanie. Seeing his younger friend working, he walked in and waved the others in. Walking in, everyone made themselves comfortable in the room. A buff, burly man, walked closer to the teen. With a good slap on the back, making the boy shout in surprise, he greeted him.

“Hey there, little man!” He grinned widely, crossing his arms over his chest. Brown eyes blinked in surprise as he spun around on his chair to face the four adults.

“Oh! Hey guys! What brings you four here?” The younger boy asked with a smile as he adjusts himself in his seat. The adults all glanced at each other for a moment. A girl with purple streaks in her hair held out a packet to him, a small smile on her lips.

“We wanted you to apply for the Hero Collaboration Program.” Honey Lemon began as the boy began to read it.

“You’re a really smart kid, Hiro. Graduated from high school early, taking hero and support classes at the same time at the institute.” Gogo smiles.

“You’ve made awesome support weapons and during battle training you’re, like, wicked smart.” Fred praises.

“Buuuut you’re also a kid. A kid that’s friends with a bunch of adults, we want you to make some friends your own age.” Wasabi grinned sheepishly, everyone nodded in agreement.

“Do… you guys not like being my friends?” Hiro frowns, looking back up at them, dejection clear on his face.

“No!” They all shouted at once.

“It’s not like that!”

“We love being your friend, little dude!”

“You’re an awesome dude!”

“We don’t hate you!”

“We’re not trying to make you feel like we hate you!” Wasabi sighed as he ran a hand down his face, “We just want you to make friends your own age.”

“Yeah, you graduated from high school pretty early on general studies, and are now taking both hero and support classes at the institute, but you never really got a chance to make friends your age.” Honey Lemon explained.

“We already called to ask if you’d be able to apply.” Gogo smiled.

“Yeah! They said that they understand the circumstances considering your quirk and will make an exception! Of course, they said that just because they’re letting you apply doesn’t mean you will be accepted! That’s all on you, my dude!” Fred grinned as he shot the young teen finger guns.

Hiro stared down at the packet in his hands for a moment. They're not wrong. Because of his quirk, he had practically breezed through school and graduated at 11. He’s never been interested in heroics or any of that stuff, but even if he wanted to, no hero school would have accepted him because of his young age. Finding boredom in just staying home, he began to tinker with things and began to build small robots for fun - and maybe to con a few people out of their money - but he’s never pursued anything specific.

He hadn’t even thought about going into support until his older brother had brought it up when he was thirteen. After lots of hard work, he had gotten into the biggest hero school in the Tokyo prefecture, Institute for Heroics and Technology. He thought about applying to UA in shizuoka but he decided that the school was too over rated and stayed in Tokyo. He had stuck to the technical side of things, at least till his brother was killed in an explosion. It had taken a lot of convincing, but he was able to get his friends to help him take down the villain that caused it. He and his friends had become vigilantes and once they had captured the culprit he was reluctant to stop. It wasn’t long till he found himself in the heroics courses as well.

Now that he’s reflecting on it, they're right. He doesn’t have any friends his own age. Taking a deep breath, he nods, “Alright, sure. I’ll apply.”

“Really!?” Honey Lemon practically squeals in excitement.

“Yeah, besides, it says that the kids at Yuuei are participating. They’ve been through a bunch of villain attacks already, It’ll be interesting to see how they compare to other heroes in training.” Hiro leaned back in his seat, a leg crossing to rest on the other.

“Oh… Oh, no, that’s his ‘I have plans’ smirk, guys.” Fred stage whispered to the others.

“Should I be feeling bad for the Yuuei kids or the exchange kids he’ll be with if he’s accepted?” Wasabi asked, making Hiro burst into a fit of laughter.

“... Both.” Honey Lemon squeaked.

“He’s going to have fun.” Gogo smirked.

Hiro Hamada. Age: 15. Seat 13. Student rank 3. Hero Name: Zero. Quirk: Prodigy

His brain functions at a faster rate than possible, making it easy for him to process and retain information, giving him genius level intelligence.

Hand to hand, Martial Arts, builds his own support items.

_____

“No way man.” A dark skinned boy groaned as he tossed his backpack on the ground and sat himself on his desk chair, the wheels sending him back a bit.

“What? Miles, dude common. This event is for sophomores ONLY. You’re never getting this opportunity, ever again!” Another male walked into the shared room and closed the door behind him.

“Ganke I just got the hang of swinging around, the school year is going to end in a few months meaning finals are coming up, I don’t need to stress myself out more with this program.” Miles huffed in response, riffling through his backpack he pulled out his textbooks.

Sitting himself at his own desk, the boy responded as he grabbed his own things, “That was three months ago dude. The school year doesn’t even end until June, we’re barely getting into November, and this program is supposed to be fun. Did you even read that packet? You’ve been stressing yourself too much by adding so much training on top of your school work.”

“...... I can’t rest Ganke, you know that. I have to hurry up and graduate, so I can take over what Peter had left for me.” Miles let out a tired sigh as he slumped back on his chair and stared at the ceiling. “I know what happened to him wasn’t my fault, I get that, but… I just… I could have done more, you know? Like, I know he took me in for field studies because we have similar quirks, but I’ve looked up to him for so long and to be acknowledged only for it to be torn away all of a sudden… We became so close… He wanted me to take over the mantle of Spider-man and I just… I can’t let him down…”

Ganke sat in silence for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts before speaking, “I get that you want to take over the mantle of your mentor, but common man. Take a breather. We’re teenagers and you're burning yourself out. Peter wouldn’t want you to burn yourself out like this. You need this break.”

Silence fell in the dorm room once again as both boys started their homework. It wasn’t long for Miles to find himself tapping his pencil against his desk. Ganke’s words floating about in his mind. With a weary sigh, Miles re-read the packet that he pulled out from where he had stuffed it in a text book. “Your right… I do need a break.”

Ganke grinned widely and kicked off to roll over to his friend, “That a boy!” he cheered, slapping his friend’s shoulder, “Now then, let's talk support items! I've had this idea on making little nubs for your gloves that can discharge electricity for like a week now! I bet you’d like it! The trip is supposed to be in Late February, right? We have so much time! We can test them after school! You can even put them to use on the field when you do actual combat during Christmas break’s field studies!” Miles snorted at his friend's enthusiasm.

Miles Morales. Age 15. Seat 9. Student Rank 4. Hero Name: Spider-man. Quirk: Dolophanes Conifera.

Has characteristics of a wrap around spider. He can camouflage with his surroundings and shoot spiderwebs from a small hole from his wrists. He can effortlessly cling and climb walls thanks to the settles on his hands and feet. Is most active during the night. If he bites anyone, a venom is injected to temporarily stun his victim.

Hand to hand, fast reflexes, flexible

____

A raven haired boy with bright blue eyes groaned in frustration as he slammed his face on the kitchen table. His older sister with red hair frowned with worry, “What’s wrong, Danny?”

“Mr. Lancer handed out some packet for heroes and, like it sounds like fun, but it doesn’t allow trio teams.” Danny responded as he rested his chin on the table.

“Hero? I thought Tucker is in for support, while Sam handles the business aspect when you guys started your own agency?” The older sibling frowned in confusion.

Danny sticks his lower lip out in a pout, “Well, yeah but…” He sits up right, “Sam and Tucker are encouraging me to sign up, and It’s cool and all, but… I just…” The boy paused, turning over the words in his head in an attempt to organize them. His sister waited patiently for him to speak again, “I’ve never felt so… lonely I guess. Like… Tucker and, surprisingly enough, Kyle are going to be handling the Support items and any other tech-savvy stuff. Sam has Wes for business stuff, even if they do argue a lot, but I… have nobody.” The boy buries his face in his hands, “It’s stupid, I know…”

“W - what about Valery? She wants to be a hero too, right? You two were pretty close…?” His sister tries to reassure.

“Yeah, but she hates my guts now, Jazz. Remember the whole incident I told you about with quirk training?”

His older sister frowns at this. Her blue eyes looked over to the packet her brother had set aside. Taking it, she read it over silently before smiling softly, “Well, I definitely agree with Sam and Tucker that you should apply.”

Danny looks up with a frown, “But I’d be all alone…”

“Danny, the whole point of the program is to meet young aspiring heroes your own age. I'm sure you’ll make a friend or two while you’re out there.” Handing her brother the packet, she watched as his eyes roamed over the words again.

“I… I guess you’re right.”

Jazz smiles reassuringly at her brother, “Of course I’m right. Now then, let me help you fill that thing out.”

Daniel James Fenton. Age 16. Seat 8. Student Rank 5. Hero Name: Phantom, Quirk: - REDACTED - Ghost.

After turning four, his quirk, cryokinesis, had manifested. When he was 11 he was involved in a lab accident that -REDACTED- mutated his quirk. He can now turn invisible at will, walk through solid objects, fly, minor telekinesis, ghost wail, cryokinesis. He has no need to breathe, can last a week without food.

Hand to hand, night vision, stealth, enhanced hearing.

Chapter 1 Part 2

#fanfiction #my hero academia au #this story is very ambitious #i really hope you guys like this #my friends and I really made laws #and a whole school system #damian wayne #kim possible #ron stoppable #hiro hamada #miles morales #Danny Phantom #crossover fanfiction

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years ago

Text

Story of the Past

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Five

A JSE Fanfic

It’s the backstory chapter! Whoo! djaskfh Anyway, I thought we should hear more about Henrik and Jackie, start to get the details of who they were before the Masked Phantoms. And also, it’s about time we address the missing element that Chase has been noticing...and in the process introduce a new boy! :D Hope you enjoy reading!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was snowing for the first time that year. Chase stood in the shadow of the dragon’s bones, hat pressed to his head, and watched it fall from the sky. The snowfall wasn’t particularly thick, but the flakes were fat and clumped together. It would probably leave a respectable layer by the time it was over.

It was ten days since Chase went out on his first mission with the Phantoms, and nothing much had happened in the meantime. Jackie and the two others on the mission were alright, Elin recovering from the magical burns she’d gotten from that wizard. Apparently no other missions had gone out since then, though there were a lot of messages coming in from other locations and Phantoms who were already out. Probably the most notable thing was the approach of the winter holy days. The winter solstice was only a few weeks away, and everyone was talking about preparing the celebrations.

There was the faint sound of footsteps in the snow, and soon Henrik appeared by his side. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Chase,” he said, adjusting his scarf. “I was delayed. Many people have come down with sudden cold sicknesses and I was handing out medicine.”

“It’s alright, Henrik,” Chase said understandably. “I think you should set up more fires, not just the ones for cooking. I’ve never been in a mountain house that doesn’t have a fireplace for winter.”

“Perhaps, perhaps.” Henrik nodded. “We could cut open holes in the canvas covering the storage and the skull, so that the smoke will not fill it up.”

Chase laughed a bit. “If you did that, the smoke would come out of the skull’s eyes and nostrils. Then it would really look like a dragon.”

Henrik laughed as well. “So, now then. Onto other matters. I will keep our reading lesson short today so that we can get out of the snowfall. Can I see the board you were using?”

Most of the lesson was spent refreshing and reviewing what Chase had already learned. Even though both of them had winter coats now, it was still cold standing out in the snow, and Chase’s fingers were quickly losing heat. Still, he felt like it was actually warmer than it should have been. Especially when it was snowing. Just as they were wrapping up, he decided to point this out. “You know, even though we’re high in the mountains, I feel like it’s warmer here than it would be back home. Isn’t that strange?”

“Oh, that is probably because of the skeleton.” Henrik knocked on the nearest bone. “Dragons were very magical creatures, you know. And most of their magic was fire and heat, in some form or another. Even after this dragon is long gone, its magic is still attached to its bones, and that is probably making it a bit warmer.”

“Huh. Fascinating.” Chase pressed a hand to the bone. It was cold as stone, but magic worked in strange ways, so he wasn’t going to doubt Henrik’s explanation. “For a doctor, you know a lot about how magic works.”

“Well, you have to be prepared,” Henrik said. “You could encounter injuries that were caused by any sort of magic. And witchcraft’s potions are excellent medicine.”

“Yea, but these are some intricate details. I understand Tripp and the other sorcerers here knowing about that, but you’re not a magic-wielder.” Chase shrugged.

“I keep my ear out for new things to learn. And I learned a lot from—” Henrik stopped. “From...my studies. Anyway, I think we can stop for now. You will just need to practice more, as always. It seems you’re having trouble with—”

“Why does everyone do that?” Chase blurted out.

“...do what?” Henrik asked, visibly confused.

“Practically everyone I’ve talked to has avoided speaking about something at some point or another,” Chase said. “A person, I’m guessing. I’m not one to pry, so I’ve just let it happen, but honestly it’s pretty frustrating.” His voice slowly grew in volume. “I’ve been here for half a season now. I have my own mask, I helped out last time, I’ve even done the dishes and other chores. Isn’t that enough? Am I not considered part of the group yet?! Does no one trust me?! I—” He sighed, and continued in a softer voice. “Sorry. I...It’s...frustrating, to have this happen over and over. And it...it feels...discouraging. Like I’m not really a part of everything, and nothing I do will...be good enough.”

Henrik didn’t respond for a while. Chase started to worry that he pushed too far, but then Henrik leaned in close and put a hand on his shoulder. “Chase. It is nothing to do with you, I can promise you that.” His voice was gentle, but firm underneath. “I am sorry for making you feel that way. It is just...well, it is still a sore subject for Jackie and me. But we never told anyone that they cannot talk about him. I suppose they just didn’t want to tell you in case we did not want you to know.”

“...oh.” Chase said softly. “Is it...sensitive? No, wait, you don’t have to tell me, it’s not my business—”

“No, I want to,” Henrik insisted. “Everyone else here already knows. Because they have all been here since it happened a year ago. You are the first new person we have found, so it makes sense that you are the only one who does not know.” He paused. “But I should talk with Jackie about how to tell you. It is about him, too.”

“I see.” Honestly, Chase felt relieved that it wasn’t the big secret he’d been building it up to be in his mind. It wasn’t a lack of trust, it was just personal. “I’m...sorry about all that. I guess Lukas has just been getting to me.”

Henrik scowled. “Ignore that ass. His mistrust is to a ridiculous degree.”

Chase laughed. “Hard to do that when he’s in charge of the crosses.”

“I am issuing an official decree to ignore him. Next time he does something based on suspicion, tell him I told you to ignore him.”

“Alright, I get it.” Chase laughed some more.

Henrik cracked a grin, too. “I will talk to Jackie about the matter you were worried about. We’ll tell you about it so people can stop being ridiculous about avoiding it.” He rubbed his hands together. “Whoo. Now I say we wrap this up and go somewhere warmer.”

“Great idea.” Chase brushed the snow off his hat. “We’ll be snow-covered statues if we stand out here any longer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple days passed without anything extraordinary happening. Lukas tried to put him through more bow and arrow ‘training,’ to which Chase told him that he wasn’t supposed to listen to him. Naturally, Lukas looked upset about that, but he let off. Chase thought that was strange. Why was that what got him to ease up on his suspicions? But he was quickly distracted when Holly stepped in to give him some pointers on using his hunting knife in self-defense. Today, this involved her emphasizing that a knife of this design was used for cutting, not stabbing, and helping him to practice slashing a dummy with it. Chase felt he had the technique down, but it would probably be much more difficult when faced with a moving person.

Talk of winter celebrations continued. Evidently, every faith had a holy day on the winter solstice. Chase was most familiar with the Longest Night, which celebrated winter and paid tribute to the Elder of Dark, but that wasn’t the only one. There was also the Moonlight Festival, which Henrik told him was the Celestial Sisters’ winter holy day, and the Freezing, which Nemet said was part of the Temple of the Forge. So, naturally, practically everyone at Wyvernlair was excited to celebrate. Even those that weren’t faithful were looking forward to feasts and parties.

Then one night, about three days after his last reading lesson with Henrik, Chase was passing by the skull on his way to his tent, and he heard someone call his name. “Huh?” He stopped and turned towards the call. “Oh, hello, Jackie. How’re you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Jackie said. He had his mask off and the hood of his cloak—he still wore his waist-length red one, even though the cold might call for a longer one—pulled down. “Can you...come here for a few moments? We need to talk.”

Immediately, Chase’s nerves shot through the metaphorical roof. “Yea, of course.” He followed Jackie into the skull.

The whole place was empty, which was unusual. He hadn’t been in here that often, but there was always at least a small group of people inside. Mostly sitting at the desks or the map table. Now, there was no one. Except for Henrik. He was sitting on a chair by a small fire, enclosed by a ring of stones. The fire was placed underneath one of the skull’s eye sockets, so it wasn’t exactly in the center of the room, but it was close enough. When Jackie and Chase walked in, Henrik looked up and gestured them over. There were two more chairs by the fire.

Chase slowly sat down, trying not to appear anxious. Jackie didn’t sit, and instead merely bounced on his feet, running his fingers along the edge of his chain mail shirt. For a moment Chase was distracted by the fact that Jackie almost always wore that mail armor—they had some in storage and he’d tried a shirt on, just out of curiosity, and it was surprisingly heavy. But then he got over being impressed and returned to being nervous. “So...what did you want to talk about? Did I do something?”

“No no no, it is not that,” Henrik hurried to say. “It is just—we have decided to tell you about the subject everyone was avoiding. Do you remember that?”

“Oh. Oh!” Chase’s eyes widened a bit. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually tell me.”

“Well, of course we would.” Henrik sounded a bit surprised. “It would not be fair otherwise.”

Jackie let out a breath. “Yea.” Now that Chase wasn’t worrying about what the conversation would be, he could tell that Jackie was also nervous. Or...that wasn’t exactly the right word. Agitated, maybe.

“So, you have noticed that people are talking around something,” Henrik continued. “And you have picked up that this is a person, yes?” He waited for Chase to nod. “Yes. Well, that person...was a friend of ours.” He indicated Jackie and himself. “His name was Marvin.”

“Marvin,” Chase repeated. That wasn’t a name heard often in the mountains. It sounded coastal.

Henrik nodded. “He was the other founder. It was the three of us.”

“The other...what?” Chase asked, confused.

“The...other founder?” Henrik repeated, equally confused.

“Founder of what?”

“Of the Masked Phantoms, Chase.”

“...wait.” Things started to click into place. Why Jackie and Henrik wore masks with more colorful designs. Why they always seemed so busy. Why Henrik had been able to get Lukas to back off with such authority. Chase shot to his feet. “You two are in charge of everything?!”

“Elders, did you not know that?!” Jackie said, absolutely shocked.

“No! I didn’t! Nobody told me!” Chase shook his head in disbelief. “I thought some things were strange, but I never realized—oh elders, no wonder Lukas is so suspicious of me. I walked right up into your main camp and immediately got friendly with the leaders of the whole secret resistance.” He might have reacted the same, honestly.

Jackie threw his hands up in the air, walking away for a few paces before coming back. “Elders and Sisters, Chase.”

“What?! I’m new to this!” Chase protested. “I’ve never joined a group like this before, not a guild or a hunting band or anything. I don’t know how leadership works! And you’re all flatlanders, for all I know, this was just a regional difference.”

“So who did you think was in charge?” Henrik asked.

“I don’t know. Some far-off figure who led from the shadows. You two are just...here. Interacting with everyone regularly. Jackie went on a mission with me, what if something happened?”

“We’re not kings, Chase,” Jackie said. “We like people to know we’re working with them. And trust me, nothing would have happened to me in Skytown. It would’ve been close if you hadn’t shown up, though. We might have lost Elin. And even if something did happen to me, Schneep stayed here, so we wouldn’t have lost leadership.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” Chase muttered. “So this Marvin was also a leader? What...happened to him?”

Henrik started to say something, but Jackie interrupted. “He turned into an ass.”

“Jackie, it has been a year,” Henrik sighed.

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t a bastard about it,” Jackie muttered. “Prick.”

Henrik rubbed his temples as if a headache was starting to come on. “I am still upset, too, but you are holding this grudge for too long.”

“What happened?” Chase repeated.

Henrik and Jackie glanced at each other, and Chase got the distinct feeling they were having a silent conversation. “Actually...do you mind if we tell you the story from the beginning?” Henrik asked after a long period of silence.

“Um...is this something that would make me seem even more suspicious for getting you two to open up to me?” Chase asked.

Jackie laughed. “Only in Lukas’s eyes. A few people around know this story, but I will admit, not most of them. Nemet, Tripp, Ana. The ones who’ve been around for a while. But it’s no secret. I hear there are some exaggerated versions of the story traveling around other camps.”

Chase grinned a bit. “But...why tell me? What if I’m actually a spy, or what if I switch sides—”

“I do not believe you would do that, Chase,” Henrik said quietly. “I met you once before. You are a kind, open man, and you care for your family and others. You would not side with the King.”

Chase’s chest swelled with emotion—the sadness and worry he was used to feeling when his family was mentioned, but combined with a warm feeling, knowing that others had faith in him. He nodded, and said nothing, blinking back sudden wetness in his eyes.

“So.” Henrik took a deep breath. “Let us start from the beginning.” He paused once more, then started to talk. “To understand why the subject matter is still bothering us—or, well, bothering Jackie—so much, I think the beginning is essential. Everything started fifteen years ago. I arrived in Glasúil off a ship, and headed down the coast and a bit inland. My parents had paid for me to study under a doctor named Slaine, who lived in the town of Fíornear.”

“Wait.” Chase didn’t want to interrupt so soon, but he had to hear that again. “Fíornear? As in...Fíornear Field?”

“Ah, yes. See, you would know that place.” Henrik smiled a bit, amused. “I have no doubt you grew up hearing stories of the warriors trained on the Field. But I did not. All I knew about it was the town name, and that it was a big, important area of the kingdom. Luckily, it was very easy to get directions to the town. I was glad that I had already studied your language before coming here. But it was...difficult, still. At that point, I could understand everything when it was in writing, but many people talked too fast for me to keep up.

“Because of this, when I actually arrived in the town of Fíornear, I was very confused. I was expecting something fancier, if I must say. The whole town was—and still is—very, ah...utilitarian. The only place that fit my expectations was the small castle where the area’s noble family lived, and even that was fortified with thick walls. I could tell that this was a place where warriors lived and worked, and I was very confused. And sort of afraid, if I must say so, thinking I had accidentally wandered onto a restricted area in a foreign land.

“So I thought I would get more directions. If this was Fíornear, I would ask where Slaine lived. If it was not, I would ask how to get there. I entered the first building I saw on the edge of town. It was a tavern with a name I could not understand, but that I would later learn was the Flint and Dagger Tavern. I would also later learn that this was known as a place where troublemakers gathered. Warriors who were learning the trade at the Field, but who were too ill-tempered to mingle with the others. They had taken this tavern as their own.

“Now imagine a fourteen-year-old boy walking into this tavern. A bookish-looking boy who is carrying all his possessions in a bag with him, including all his money, and who is rather skinny and likely to blow over in a strong wind.”

“I think your past self would be insulted to hear that, Schneep,” Jackie laughed.

Henrik grinned. “No, no, trust me, I was very aware of this fact. Even more so as everyone else in the tavern was strong enough to pick me up with one hand. They were all giving me looks, and I immediately felt I was not welcome. But I thought I could hurry through. So I walk up to the tavern keeper, and before I could even say anything, he says something along the lines of ‘Get out of here, kid.’ The exact details escape me.

“Of course, as I said, I do not understand the spoken language as well, so I think I misheard him. And I say, very clumsily, ‘Excuse me, is this Fíornear?’ And I mispronounced it, too, calling it ‘fee-OHR-neer’ instead of ‘FEE-or-narr.’ And from there, a few of the patrons in the tavern started grumbling at each other, sitting at a table in the middle of the room so they are not even hidden.

“The tavern keeper says, ‘Why? Are you looking for it? Hoping to become a warrior?’ and he gives me a very mocking smile at that last part. And I say, ‘No, I am looking for a doctor named Slaine.’

“And before I can say anything else, the group who are sitting and grumbling stand up and walk over to me. All of them, older than me, taller, and quite a bit stronger. One of them said something that was like, ‘So you’re a fancy foreign boy, then?’ And I am very confused. I know he is insulting me, but I am not sure how, so I just try to ask if this is the right town once more. They all laugh, and say things that are too fast for me to understand, but I know they are still insulting me. The one who spoke before leans down, very close to me, and grabs the front of my shirt. ‘You’d better get out of this place before we throw you out,’ he says. ‘You don’t belong here.’

“At that moment, I understand that this is a mistake, and I apologize, trying to leave. But this taller, older boy is not letting go of my shirt, even though he wants me to get out. I try apologizing again, and I look around for help, but everybody is looking away. Until, all of a sudden, there is a shout of ‘Hey!’ and next thing I know, the older boy is hit in the head with a shoe. I turn in the direction it came from, and there is a tiny girl standing on top of one of the tables, holding the other shoe in the pair.”

“I was not tiny!” Jackie protested.

Henrik laughed. “You were a small twelve-year-old child, all your height came from the table.”

“Okay, alright, but I hadn’t hit my growth spurt yet! And I was full of righteous anger so that makes up for it!”

“Wait, Jackie, you were the girl?” Chase clarified.

“I was,” Jackie said, turning to look at Chase. “I didn’t realize it at the time this story takes place, but I was born in a different name.”

“Oh!” Chase nodded. “You’re a man?”

“Mostly, yea.”

“I see. You look good.”

“Thank you,” Jackie grinned. “But I thought you were married.”

“Hey, don’t take it that way, I mean it as a friend.” Chase chuckled a bit. “What were you doing in this tavern?”

“Oh, I was training on the Field,” Jackie said proudly.

“Really?! At twelve?!” Chase didn’t hide his surprise. Though Fíornear Field technically trained anyone over the age of twelve to be a royal warrior, there usually weren’t students that young. “How did you convince your parents?”

“Well...I didn’t,” Jackie admitted. He finally sat down in the third chair. “See, I grew up on a farm, smack dab in the middle of the kingdom. It was boring. I had siblings, two older and three younger, and I could play with them, but I just wasn’t interested in farmwork. Mam and Dad said that I could start warrior training when I turned fifteen, but I didn’t want to wait! I’d be practically an adult by then, and it seemed so far. So I...ran away.”

“Oh, elders,” Chase gasped.

“Once I was actually receiving training, I asked the armsmaster to write a letter back to them,” Jackie said. “Because I couldn’t write yet. I didn’t want them to worry, but I wanted to be sure I had a place at the Field before that happened, so it’d be harder for them to drag me home.”

“Elders, I can’t imagine being that old and going out on my own,” Chase shook his head in disbelief.

Jackie grinned. “Well, I was a tiny fireball as a kid, fierce and stubborn. I wanted to fight villains and protect people. And as you can probably tell, one of the first times I did that was by throwing a shoe at Samuel when he was harassing Henrik.” He briefly shook his head in disgust. “That boy wasn’t worthy of that name, he was a bully in every way.”

“Let me guess...things rolled downhill quickly after the bully got hit with the shoe,” Chase said.

“Well...eventually. He certainly let go of Schneep right away. I remember shouting at him to ‘Leave him alone!’ and of course, he immediately got angry. He picked up the shoe again—which was mine, by the way, off my feet—and said, ‘I won’t be taking orders from a pipsqueak mouse like you!’ and threw it back at me. I managed to catch it, which was pretty impressive if I say so, and shouted back, ‘If I’m a mouse, you’re a brute, picking on someone half your size! Fight like a warrior!’”

“And then what happened?” Henrik prompted.

Jackie sighed. “He and all his lads charged at me.”

“Ancient elders,” Chase groaned.

“It could have gone worse!” Jackie insisted. “Apparently picking on someone so young was too much for some of the other patrons, and they all jumped in to stop them. Oh, and I leapt right off the table before any of them could get there! I...didn’t exactly land on my feet, but it didn’t hurt that much, compared to being rammed by about eight or nine sixteen-year-old warriors-in-training. You know, Samuel and half his lads got denied training before the winter. Ha! Served them right.

“Anyway, then I stood up and ran over to Schneep while the other patrons were trying to hold back those lads. I asked him if he was alright, and he said he was fine. Then I said, ‘Good, now let’s get out of here!’

“Before we could ‘get out of there,’ though, Samuel shouted, ‘Get those brats!’ and about three of his lads went to block the front entrance. So I grabbed Schneep’s hand and ran the other way, into the back halls of the tavern that connects the kitchen, and the storage, and the lavatory, and whatever else was back there, I forget. By that point, a brawl was starting, so we had a head start. I knew there’d be a back entrance to the building, but I wasn’t sure where. It was my first time going there, you know, and I’d only gone out of curiosity, not any desire to visit regularly.

“So it wasn’t long before we were lost. We took a few wrong turns, and Henrik asked me, ‘Do you know where we are going?’ and I lied and said, ‘Of course!’ But he didn’t believe me. And I could hear footsteps and shouting following us, and I knew either Samuel or one of his lads would find us soon.

“But before that can happen, I hear someone say, very quietly, ‘Excuse me?’ I jump a bit, spin around, and almost punch this tall kid who’d suddenly come out of one of the rooms. Luckily, Schneep stopped me. And the tall kid says, ‘You’re the people that got attacked back there?’ And I don’t answer right away, because I’m a bit suspicious. But this boy isn’t one of Samuel’s lads. He wasn’t built enough, if you know what I mean. Instead, he was this really tall, sort of willowy boy around Schneep’s age, wearing this fancy ring that looked like real silver with a real emerald in it. So I say ‘yea, that’s us.’ And he says, ‘Alright. I’ll help you get out.’

“This boy turns to the nearest wall and stares at it for a while, like he’s trying to read invisible words. Then he pokes his ring, and all of a sudden, the emerald in it starts glowing. I remember staring in shock as he pressed the emerald to the wall near the floor, then raised it up, around, and down. As he did, the glowing light rubbed off on the wall like chalk on a board, drawing this doorway that was round at the top. Once the doorway was done, he pressed on the wall in the middle, and it just disappeared. Instead, there was suddenly the outside, even though we should have still been in the middle of the building.

“‘You have to go through first,’ this kid says. I’m a bit suspicious, but then Schneep nods and walks right through this doorway. And now I feel responsible for him, so I follow him, and next thing I know, I’m outside the tavern, on its side. The tall kid walks through the doorway, and then it disappears. And we all just stare at each other for a while. It’s a bit awkward, but I felt like we were all connected somehow, you know? So I say, ‘I’m Jackie. Daughter of Fiona,’ because, again, I hadn’t realized my name was wrong yet. Schneep introduces himself as ‘Henrik von Schneeplestein,’ and this new kid just says, ‘I’m Marvin.’”

Chase physically started. “Marvin was a wizard?!”

“And a very talented one, too,” Henrik added. “The spell he used there was a Doorway Through Walls, and I understand it’s not usually taught to fourteen-year-olds.”

“But...” Chase shook his head a bit. “You said that wizards usually side with the King. A-and Tripp told me that was because the royal family provides their magic focuses, so how—?”

“Most focuses are temporary,” Jackie said. “They get worn out from channeling magic for so long. You might get one or two years out of them before they need to be fixed up or replaced. But there are ones that can last decades. They just...cost a hefty fee.”

“Marvin stole his,” Henrik added.

Jackie laughed a bit. “Yea. He did.” But his smile was more sad than anything. And short-lived too, as he realized he was smiling and quickly dropped it into a frown.

“So that’s how you three met,” Chase said, putting together the pieces. “So...you stayed in contact?”

“It was easy to do so,” Henrik said. “Jackie was training at the Field, I was studying with Slaine, and Marvin lived in town. We would meet up as often as possible. There were difficulties, of course, mine and Jackie’s schedules were full, and Marvin’s parents did not approve of him leaving home, so he had to sneak out.”

“We had a lot of little adventures,” Jackie said, leaning back and linking his hands behind his head. “Schneep was the brain, I was the brawn, and Marvin was the—well, he said he was the beauty, but really, he was the power, with his magic. And, uh, money, actually. You don’t get a lot of coin as a warrior-in-training or a doctor’s apprentice.”

“But I think we should skip over those,” Henrik said. “I think we may have taken too long explaining our first meeting.”

“Alright, skip to the part where you decide to form a group to rebel against the King,” Chase suggested. “When did that start? The moment he was crowned?”

“No, not at all,” Henrik said. “In fact, I was quite happy for him. Though a little shocked, to be honest. I had just finished my studies, and I felt barely ready to step out into my own. Yet he was being crowned King of an entire kingdom, and he was a year younger than me!”

“Couldn’t be helped,” Jackie sighed. “Not with the last King and Queen gone, be at peace. At least he got a year to prepare?”

“Twenty is hardly better than nineteen,” Henrik huffed. “But either way, we could not have known what was to happen.”

“What started it all?” Chase asked.

Jackie and Henrik glanced at each other. “It was about three years later, or so,” Jackie said. “At that point, I was one of the royal warriors, so I was able to notice some things. Our commands were...questionable. My captain told all of us that we ‘weren’t to hold back’ against troublemakers. There was talk of shutting down dissidence, and testing the people’s loyalty. Now, keep in mind, there hadn’t even been a whisper of rebellion before this, but this sort of talk seemed to appear overnight. And a lot of my fellows, people I had considered friends, were eating this up.”

“And then the King cut the funding for medicine and doctors,” Henrik added. “You know how most of us doctors receive supplies and salaries from the royal funds, yes?”

“Except for the travelling doctors,” Chase agreed. “They’re a separate thing. You were a town doctor once?”

“Yes, so I knew we were receiving less,” Henrik grumbled. “And now, years later, it is even less. The royal fund is not paying for supplies anymore, meaning doctors have to ask for donations so they can afford what they need.”

“And Marvin was hearing rumors about the noble houses,” Jackie said. “How they were turning on other families that weren’t loyal enough to the crown.”

“All of this was so different from what the King had been doing when first crowned.” Henrik shook his head. “And the three of us talked, and we realized that he must have been hiding his true intentions. Waiting until his position was secure, and then enforcing his rule, making sure every last person in this kingdom followed him.”

“And we had to do something about it!” Jackie shouted, standing up. “Something more! Something drastic!”

“Something that we could not do as ourselves,” Henrik said. “So, we decided to use masks, to hide who we were.”

“Little things first. But you would not believe how quickly things got out of hand.” Jackie whistled. “Something about the masks inspired something, I guess. People started following us after we went out to stop injustice, asking to join. And well, more people meant we could do more to help, so we expanded. Now here we are, five years later.”

Chase didn’t say anything for a moment. It just all seemed...so much. The Masked Phantoms was created by just three people. Two of which he was starting to consider friends. But that begged the question...why were only two of them left? “What happened to Marvin?”

Jackie took a deep breath, as if holding back a rant of words. “I know I just said our plan was to do something drastic. I just said that. But...there are...limits.” The last word came out as a growl.

“Jackie, please. Sit down,” Henrik said softly. Jackie stayed standing, so he sighed, and continued. “Our goal has always been to protect people. And so, we encourage fighting to be a last resort.”

“I’ve picked up on that, yes,” Chase said. “Holly always says you should never strike first.”

“Marvin thought we weren’t doing enough. He started to say that we should strike first. And strike...fatally.”

“How could he?!” Jackie shouted. “How could he?! The King’s warriors are just people, same as us! They have families to support, friends that would miss them! They’re following orders, and shouldn’t be blamed! Even the noble houses are under the crown! Doing what they need to! Nobody should die unless there’s no avoiding it!”

“Jackie, calm down!” Henrik snapped.

Jackie fell silent. He looked over at Chase. “One day, the three of us were talking about our plans. The long-term ones, our goals. And Marvin—he—just—so casually—like it was nothing, he said we should kill the King.”

“What?!” Chase stood up as well. “You can’t do that! The royal lineage hasn’t been broken for centuries! It goes all the way back to Samuel the Green-Eyed, it’s entwined within the land itself. You can’t end it!”

“Yes! See! This is it!” Jackie shouted. “People care about the line! They care about the legend of it! They care about our history!”

“I can see where Marvin was coming from, though,” Henrik said. “The King has abused his power for years, and people are suffering. Killing him might end it, and it would mean he would never return to try and regain his rule. But we cannot kill him right away. Not unless the people agree with that decision. And if we assassinate him now, people will definitely not agree. Half the population will immediately revolt against whatever new rule we try to establish. We must strip the King of his powers, then plan what to do.”

Chase forced himself to take a step back from the immediate indignant anger he’d felt upon hearing someone was planning to end the Glasúil line. Really, did it matter that much? Well...yes, actually. The royal family had ruled peacefully for centuries, and people loved them. Not just because of who they were, but because of what Jackie said, the history and legend. But if this King ordered villages burned down for no reason? Yes, he could see where Marvin was coming from, too.

But Henrik was right. People would be raging at the idea. His own reaction was proof of that. Killing the King now would just lead to chaos. “So you kicked Marvin out, then?”

Jackie laughed. “Oh noooo, we didn’t do that! The bastard said he was too good for us, and stormed out! What an ass!”

“To be fair, we did have...quite a large fight, leading up to that,” Henrik pointed out. “Personal insults were said.”

“Mostly between me and him,” Jackie admitted. “Schneep tried to mediate.”

Henrik laughed bitterly. “For the first minute, yes. I got caught up in it, too, do not pretend I didn’t. I would apologize, if I could.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jackie muttered. “Not unless he does first.”

“Not even for punching him?”

“Nope.”

Chase looked back and forth between the two of them. He wasn’t about to press, but he could tell that this fight had been bad. “So...he left.”

“A year ago, yes,” Henrik confirmed. “We hear about his...activities, occasionally. A wizard in a mask, acting on his own. Mostly destroying noble property and warrior forts.”

“With no regard for casualties,” Jackie added angrily. He grunted in frustration, then looked back at Chase. His voice softened. “...sorry to dump all this on you. It’s just been so long since we’ve talked about it, I guess we needed to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Chase assured him. “I understand, you can’t keep your feelings buried forever.”

“Well...alright then.” Jackie let out a long breath, then leaned in and gave Chase a quick one-armed hug. “Thanks for listening.”

Henrik stood up, gave Chase a similar quick hug, then stepped back. “We have been talking for a while. We told everyone not to disturb us, but...”

“More busy leader duties?” Chase asked humorously.

Henrik gave him a wry smile. “More busy leader duties.”

“Don’t worry,” Chase said. “I understand. And really, I’m just glad that you took the time to tell me all this. You didn’t have to.”

“We wanted to,” Henrik said. “And now, when others try to avoid the subject, you can say that you already know about Marvin, so it is not a problem.”

“Do you...think you’ll ever cross paths again?”

“I hope we do,” Jackie said. “So I can punch him again.” He hit his hand in demonstration. “But...on a more serious note, I think it’s inevitable. Our goals are the same, even if our methods are different. Eventually, we’re going to have to meet him again.” He paused. “And the more time goes on, the closer that moment becomes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Southern Moors of Glasúil were not built for permanent settlements. They were wetlands, with watery soil that wasn’t fit to farm on, without gems or metals to mine, and with mud that could easily ruin books, art, and clothes. But still, people found a way to live there, using the resources native to the moors to trade for what they needed. Most of the time, people lived on boats that floated down the many rivers, migrating seasonally as certain areas got difficult to work with. But a few locations had become home to permanent towns, towns that floated in the middle of still water or had their buildings tower on stilts.

This was a town that fit into the latter category. Houses, shops, everything was on stilts that were at least twice as tall as the average man, built like that to avoid the rising waters that would come every spring.

But for now, in the winter, the waters were just thin streams that wound around the tall buildings, some of them covered in a thin layer of ice. But the biggest stream was unfrozen. And this night, under the light of the stars and the waning moon, a single rowboat was floating down this stream. A boy, probably around ten to thirteen years old, was paddling it to his destination. He kept glancing up at the stilted buildings, waiting to see someone on the wooden bridges that connected them. But it was late, and it was winter, and although the Southern Moors weren’t all frozen yet, it was still cold. So the boy paddled on.

Then, he glanced up at the wooden bridges again. And there he saw...a cat. Sitting near one of the wooden ladders leading down to the ground, its eyes reflecting the starlight as it stared at him. The boy stopped paddling, tied up the boat, and climbed out, grabbing the wooden ladder. Once on the solid wooden walkway around the building, the cat darted around him and across the bridge.

He followed the cat to the next building, a house, where it stopped and sat outside the door. Swallowing nervously, he pulled open the door.

The inside was filled with a wide array of candles, all of various colors, but mostly orange and black. They sat on every possible surface, even the floor near the walls, but only a few were lit. The layout was that of a normal one-room house, with a bed in one corner, a rocking chair in another, and a table with two chairs in the middle. And there was a man sitting in one of the chairs.

The cat darted past the boy and leapt onto the table. Its fur was mostly white, but its ears were dark gray, and its tail was striped gray and black. Its legs were similarly striped, though with brown and white, and the fur on its face had a pattern of brown stripes. It stared at the man with big blue eyes, and the man started petting it.

The man himself was...unusual. Most of his clothes were hidden by a thick black cloak, leaving just his gloved hands and his head visible. Though, that wouldn’t do much. His features were hidden by a white mask in the shape of a cat’s face. Colorful markings decorated the surface, red whiskers on the cheeks and green spirals in the ears, with the four card symbols in black in the center of the forehead. Brown chin-length hair framed the mask in waves.

“Um...” The boy hovered in the doorway.

“Close the door,” the man said, and the boy did so. “What did you find?”

The boy walked closer to the table, though he didn’t sit in the chair. “Um...well...my cousin, Ryenn, she works at Portmota Castle. Does their laundry and cleaning. And she...she says that the King has chosen them for his Longest Night celebration. H-he’s arriving soon, maybe within the week.”

“I see.” The cat hopped into the man’s lap and curled up, where he continued to pet it. “How does your cousin know this?”

“Well, they were doing preparations, cleaning things more than usual. And she asked why, and the others said that the lady was getting ready for the King’s visit. Apparently she got a letter in secret, saying that the celebration at Fíornear was a ruse and it was actually going to happen at her holding.”

“I see,” the man repeated, nodding.

The boy hesitated. “Um...can I...? The, uh...”

“Yes, of course.” The man reached into his cloak and pulled out a small leather pouch. He set it down on top of the table. It made a clinking sound as the coins inside rattled against each other.

The boy stared at it, then slowly reached down, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he snatched the pouch up, checked the inside, and saw it was filled with golden coins. His eyes widened. He looked at the man and quickly nodded. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a problem. I should be thanking you for what you told me.”

“Right.” The boy took a few steps back, suddenly uneasy. “Uh...” Then, without another word, he turned and scrambled out of the house. The man could hear him running all the way back to his boat.

“He shouldn’t be so scared,” the man said to himself. The cat in his lap purred and sat up, stretching. He winced. “Draco, your claws.” Of course, the cat didn’t say anything. In fact, it started kneading his legs. “Ah!” The man gasped, then sighed. “Silly boy.” He picked up the cat and set it on the floor, where it whined at him. “Sorry, but you can’t be up here. I need the space.”

The man then reached into his cloak and pulled out several things. A map, some parchment, a quill and bottle of ink, and finally, a necklace with an ornate pendant: a flat, palm-sized emerald in a thin silver frame, smooth on the front but with golden patterns inlaid on the back. The man ran a finger along the edge of the pendant, and it started to glow. He flicked the light off his fingers, and it scattered, flying to all the unlit candles and lighting them, providing more than enough light to see.

“Now, let’s get to work.” The man picked up the quill, dipped it, and wrote down a name: Portmota, the noble family the King would be visiting for the solstice. He’d heard rumors that the celebration wasn’t actually going to be at Fíornear, but this confirmed it. Now, he just had to come up with a plan. Something more subtle than his usual heads-on approach. This was too important to risk.

He’d make sure the King didn’t live to see the spring.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #jackieboy man #dr schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #brigid writes fanfiction #fantasymasksau

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jesterofwords · 3 years ago

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@my-mass-hysteria @spellboundleo @miss-lunar-3clipse COME GET YALL FOOD

Vexii's backstory 1

When Vexii woke up, the only thing they knew was anger. Pure, blinding rage and hatred towards an unknown something or someone ingulfed them. As Vexii tried to grasp the fragments of their memories, they faded away, bit by bit. The more they tried to grasp, the more memories faded away. Soon, all that was left was anger at an unknown something, and this lack of knowledge frustrated them. As they felt tears well up, they distracted themself by taking a look at their surroundings.

At first glance, they realized they were in a crater, about 6-7 feet deep and they had to stand up to peek out of the top of the crater. It was late winter, but their armor was hot, maybe from a large impact of some kind? The dirt was freshly churned, and beyond that was thick forest.

Vexii then turned to themself to take inventory on what they had. Their few white wing and tail feathers were spotted with soot, as well as their heavy chain mail armor. Most items they had were simple. A bed roll, 10 gold, rations, rope, clothes, a greatsword, and a shovel, but they did have a few unusual items. A shield with strange markings on the inside, a strange metal tube-like thing that looked like it was bent in half with smaller, pointed cylinders on the inside, an amulet, a whole cooking set, and strangest of all, a small, worn, folded up note, smudged with dirt.

After taking inventory, Vexii pulled themself out of the crater and started walking. It was daytime for now, but they'd like to get closer to a city before the sun set. Being owlfolk, they could find shelter in a tree if need be, but it wasn't pleasant, and it was hard work finding a sturdy branch or a tree split in half. Due to a lack of urgency, they took a leisurely pace, not expecting to get to a city tonight anyway.

They walked from mid-day to almost sunset, stopping after finding a good tree to sleep in. With a strong flap of their wings, they settled into the split in the tree. It took a few minutes to find a good position, but once they did, they were out like a light.

Waking up this time was disorienting, due to them falling out of the tree. Vexii laid there for a moment to get their bearings, then stood back up to walk again. They woke up a few hours after sunrise this time, giving them enough time to find a town and inn before night.

It took longer than they thought, but they managed to find a town after only a few hours walk. The first thing they did was try to find an inn. They got lost a few times and had to ask for directions, but they got there eventually. A room for 1 night ended up costing them 2 silver, which left them with 9 gold and 8 silver. Once their room was booked, Vexii roamed around town aimlessly, trying to figure out what to do next.

The faint sound of a crowd yelling and metal on metal soon caught their attention, Vexii heading towards the sound as soon as they heard it. They came across a classic gladiator arena, where two half-orcs were fighting in the center. One appeared to have the upper hand for the first bit, but quickly started losing after a hard hit to the side. The match ultimately led to his loss.

Vexii felt compelled to talk to the one that lost, for a reason they'll probably never understand. After the gladiators left, both limping, most spectators left to watch the next fight. Because of this, Vexii was able to easily find who they were looking for. Deciding to be upfront, but as polite as possible, Vexii approached him and said, "Hello! You're the gladiator that lost today, right? I'm Vexii, what's your name?"

The gladiator responded with, "Lost? Aha, I'll be back tomorrow and kick their ass," with a proud expression on his face.

Vexii looked as happy as one with an owl-ish face could look and said, "I look forward to it! You'll see me there, guaranteed!"

The next day, Vexii kept their word and showed up, surprised to learn that their new friend was going to be fighting two people this time instead of one. They watched as two soldier-looking men walked into the arena, their new friend walking in on the other side. Surprisingly, the fight was over fairly quick, Vexii's new friend winning this time.

The winner turned to the audience where a rich-looking Tiefling sat. "You see that 'Sir Mavvir'", he yelled out in a mocking tone, "I beat two of your men easily and I could kick your pansy ass any day, you chicken-hearted coward!"

The audience gasped and went silent, making the order of, "Seize him!" ring loud and clear through the stadium. With those two words, the winner started to run out of the stadium, Vexii following shortly behind. Many others were startled into motion, following close behind. Vexii noticed this and tugged the gladiator into an alleyway, standing in front of it and puffing their wings out to block him, acting out of breath. "He went that way!" They cried, pointing forward to another alleyway across the road. The people chasing them ran the other way, and Vexii turned back to the man behind them. "That should buy us some time, what should we do next? WAIT. What is your name?"

That got Vexii a weird look from the gladiator said, "It's Dormir, and we need to head this way, take a right, run straight, then- nevermind, just follow me." He then started running, Vexii following close behind again. They soon found themselves in yet another forest, successfully escaping town. They made their way through the forest, slowing down to a walk when they were sure nobody saw them.

They walked in silence for a while, catching their breath until Vexii broke the silence with, "Hey, I have a gift for you for winning, also because that was a pretty ballsy thing to do." They then pulled out the metal tube out of their bag. "I have no clue what it is, but I'd like you to find out for me."

Dormir was stunned into silence for a second before grabbing the object. "...thanks," he replied, smiling as they continued to walk. Sunset approached quick, and they decided to shelter at a tree. Dormir decided to sleep on the ground while Vexii slept in a tree again, so Vexii temporarily lent Dormir their bedroll. It's no surprise it didn't take long for them to fall asleep, exhausted from the days events.

#Vexii #dnd campaign #dnd #d&d #d&d 5e #dnd stories #d&d story

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jpegjade · 4 years ago

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Take Care - Spencer

diana has made an appearance for something! i have rewritten this 3 times and i feel like this time is the one.

Request: I’ve never seen this story anywhere written but like Spencer x reader where the reader is a caretaker of Diana’s and Diana is always talking about Reid and reading y/n the letters he sends and Diana always talks about how good spencer + the reader would be together and then they meet and fall in love ugh 🥺

Warnings: none that i can think of.

_______________________

“You look bright today, Diana.” You said, bringing her mail for the day.

“I’m getting a letter from Spencer today.” She said, opening the letter for the day.

“Yeah, that’s great!” You said, handing out the other residents letters from their loved ones.

Diana was the only one who got something everyday because her son was some kind of big shot fbi guy, according to her, so he was able to tell her all this cool stuff. She reads the letters to you very formally, as you were letting her believe she was still a professor and she was just holding office hours. That always made her happy, when you played into the delusion. You weren’t on her detailed staff so you didn’t know everything but you knew enough.

One day, a letter came in the mail, addressed to you. Your relatives didn’t write letters so you didn’t know who it could be from until you opened it.

“Dear y/n,

My name is Spencer Reid. I am Diana Reid’s son. I assume she has told you about me as she mentions how cute you and I would be together when I actually have the chance to talk to her on rare occasions. She speaks highly of your service to her. I wanted to thank you for that. I can not do so in person at the moment but I figured a letter is a personal way to thank someone for their service.

Sincerely,

Spencer W. Reid”

Standing in the lobby, you read the letter a couple of times. What in the world? Why would he thank you? Why you? You must not have been special. He must have hand written a letter to all of the people who help his mom. But… You’re the one person who hangs out with his mom and isn’t on the official staff list assigned to her. You were obviously perplexed but you figured that you should write one back.

You got out a piece of paper and started writing. Then scratching out. Then writing again. Then scratching out again. Finally, you got something solid and closed the envelope, dropping it in the building’s outgoing mailbox.

You pushed it to the back of your mind and moved on with your day. You couldn’t wait to hear about Spencer’s “adventures,” as Diana calls them. Sure, they weren’t the most interesting things but he told her secrets that no one else knew. It was like you were in on something special without prying.

Diana read you her letter and then you got her up and moving for lunch. After that, your morning shift was over and it was time for you to return home. You bid Diana goodbye for the day, although she wasn’t going to recognize that you were leaving. She had been in a weird space lately so it was harder for her to really know what was happening.

Life went on, going through the motions of bringing Diana her mail of the day for a few days in a row. As suspected, she was the only one with mail today until you saw your name in the same handwriting as the last one. As you rushed to open it, something fell out. A piece of paper labeled, “read me to diana.”

“Dear y/n,

Yes, I am an FBI profiler with the Behavioral Analysis Unit (or BAU). Yes, I know you aren’t in my mother’s healthcare worker detail but I also know that you spend time with her every day. I may not see my mother but I might stop by every now and then to check in on her, even if she doesn’t know I’m there. And if she doesn’t know, you don’t know. But I know you. I know you were nervous to write to me, your handwriting was shaky and wouldn’t stay on a line. The way you gripped the pen was probably tighter than normal. You slant down, meaning something is weighing on you, but not low enough that you aren’t on a relatively straight line. I suspect you’re a little younger than me, based on the way you dot your i’s and cross your double t’s. It suggests that you still believe in impossible things. And of course, you’re curious because you asked me to profile your handwriting. I’ve also seen you before so I know we’re about the same age and yes, you are very cute. My mother is a schizophrenic but she’s not completely delusional.

How did the letter reading go?

Sincerely,

Spencer W. Reid”

How had you never seen him? How did you never see him, as long as his mother has been here. Maybe you did see him but he was unremarkable? Diana was hardly unremarkable so her son must be of similar construct, right?

You thought about this before you wrote him back. It was a quick message, nothing too intricate. You were a little bit more careful about how you held the pen, since he knew you were nervous last time. You wrote to him about how the letter reading went: she loved the poem. You guessed that Spencer would know that but sent it anyway to make her happy. But that still doesn’t answer the question, “why you?”

Another few days passed but you couldn’t stop thinking of Spencer. You tried looking him up on the internet and found out he was just as brilliant as his mother. That was a plus. Negative was he was not on any social media unless it was an article about him. Eventually you gave up and just went back to trying to imagine him in your head. Was he tall? Was he short? What did he like to do in his free time? He has seen you but you haven’t seen him… That wasn’t fair.

When you opened his next letter, you were sitting outside in the grass, across from Diana sitting on the bench. She was having a particularly tough day so she wasn’t up to reading you her letter. You told her you would still keep her company until your shift ended and she seemed to like that.

“Dear y/n,

You ask a lot of questions. Are you sure you’re not profiling me? And yes, I have witnessed your connection with my mother before but you wouldn’t recognize me in a crowd. I’m average, nothing special. You care for her in a way I never could… That’s why I wrote to you. I’ll see you on Friday.

Sincerely,

Spencer W. Reid”

You didn’t think about how you interacted with Diana that made a difference. You just thought about why Spencer would want to talk to you… He said Friday. Which was today. Today was Friday… He could be anywhere! You had to find him and get some questions answered up close.

You looked for anyone who might look remotely like Diana, frantically searching while looking nonchalant. Of course, he knows what you look like so you can’t seem desperate and like you’ve lost it. You also didn’t want to worry any of the residents.

“Excuse me.” You said, trying to get past a guy who was standing in the doorway. He turned slightly and looked at you. He had a sad smile on his face and his hands in his pockets. He looked like someone who didn’t fit into the sea of people visiting their family members. Fridays were busier than the rest of the week so he could be anyone but you had a hunch by the way the guy was staring in the direction where Diana was sitting.

“Spencer W. Reid?” You said, watching the sad smile get a little bigger.

“You figured me out? How did you do it?” He said, scooting over so he wasn’t standing directly next to you.

You didn’t take that as an offensive action. His mom did the same thing. They both had a thing about people touching them.

“You were standoff-ish. And you’re dressed like you’re important.” You said, confidently.

You had been googling what a profiler was and how to do it since the second letter. You thought it was the coolest job in the world but you liked where you were at, caring for people close to home.

“So you profiled me.” Spencer turned towards you a little more.

“Yes, Dr. Reid, I did.” You triumphantly put your hands on your hips.

“I never told you I was a doctor.” He said, knowing your nonchalant facade was going to fall apart that minute.

“Well… Okay, I googled you.” You sighed.

“The internet has its uses... “ He said, looking over at his mom again.

He looked like he was getting cold feet of some sort. You saw him moving a little bit more and his eyes becoming a little flighty.

“Do you want to step outside, into the lobby?” You asked, to which he nodded. He almost looked relieved not to be forced to go over there.

“You don’t have to go over there. I don’t have to tell her you were here.” You said, sitting on the opposite side of the lobby bench to you.

“No, she should know I came for her birthday.” He said, looking down at his hands.

It wasn’t very often that the visitors got anything special on their birthdays. Unless their family did something within set guidelines, there was no celebration that happened here because it could set off one of the other residents in the facility.

“That’s sweet. She would enjoy that.” You said smiling a little bit.

“She’ll get her wish.” He said, wanting to chuckle.

“And what’s that?” You wondered what he could possibly be talking about.

“Seeing us together. I mentioned it in a letter previously, that she occasionally mentions that you and I would look cute together.” He said, finally looking up at you.

“Oh, yeah. She has said that I needed to meet you once or twice before. We talk about you a lot. I feel like I know you.” You said, breaking eye contact. You were embarrassed that you told him that you talk about him when this is the first time you’ve ever met him.

“Well, I don’t know much about you.” He paused. “Do you think you would want to tell me more?”

“Oh well sure. Where do you want to start? My whole backstory is wild.” You looked up at him.

It took a second for you to recognize what he was saying.

“oh , you mean. Yes, that would be fun.” You said, attempting to remain calm. You just scored yourself a date and you didn’t do anything but write letters. Maybe you should be a pen-pal more often.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #cm #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #oh my god im so lonely

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planetchii · 3 years ago

Text

THE NICHIASA SHITPOSTING REPORT

TIME IS A MANMADE CONCEPT. ALSO KNOWN AS I THOUGHT I ALREADY DID THIS.

IN THIS EPISODE: AN AOZORA ELECTION DAY SPECIAL, A DISGRUNTLED SISTER TEACHES THE FAVORITE SISTER HOW TO FLY AND THE ZENKAIGER TENNIS GRAND PRE.

Tropical Rouge: It's the start of the general election season for the Aozora Middle School Student Council. And good news everyone, you can't be student council president of a middle school when you're going to be promoted to high school. That means that Asuka's ex is at the end of her term limit, and it's time for a new, fresh face to run the school. And Laura knows just the person to bring Aozora Middle School into the new golden age of rule.

That person is Laura.

I mean, what's a student council president then good practice for her rule as Grand Ocean's Next Top Queen? This should be easy. I mean who wouldn't be on board for changing the name of the Student Council President to "Queen", or having classes in the ocean or mandatory fish tails or something. Obviously, she is the best candidate. Forget that other candidate the disciplinary committee's Masami or good candidate Rika. Obviously, Laura is Sakuragawa Sensei approved.

Meanwhile, the girls are reminded that Asuka also has a backstory. Much to the surprise of absolutely three people, we're told that Asuka was once part of the Tennis club, and was doubles partners with her ex. Local bibliophile was quoted as saying, "I didn't think it was important." Seems Laura also agrees, as she wants to discuss her lofty goals, which causes her cabinet to have to revise her plans to something more doable.

Meanwhile, Chongire has some things to say about the current state of political affairs and demands an audience with the Presidental Candidate and her choices for cabinet positions. But it turns out that leaving the final speeches is an auto-disqualification. Saving the world does not matter in the political world. Honestly, it was unfair and some real fake news #stopthecount hours. Laura even told the assembly that she would be back. What's wrong with waiting like, 5 minutes? This was obviously a ploy to keep the smug fish from power. Oh well. At least she'll have the Grand Ocean.

Revice: After saving his sister Sakura and his "She's a girl, and a friend but not a girlfriend" girlfriend Ayaka, Ikki... still refuses to sign the contract to make him a magical girl employee of FENIX. This leads to his brother to rage quit the simulation and do something useful like his actual stamp collecting job.

Meanwhile, Sakura goes to look for her friend. After such a terrible ordeal, it's always best to check on your friends. But Ayaka's mom didn't know where she was. She felt no need to keep track of such people because she wasn't the favorite child. Only one of them was going to be her meal ticket to riches, and it wasn't going to be her non-idol daughter. But it's okay, because Ayaka found a new job, with new friends, and a new uniform and sparkly shoes. Hey, wait a minute...

Back at FENIX HQ, George is dealing with Daiji insisting that this time he can transform. THIS time he'll be successful and won't chicken out of putting the belt on, let alone stamping it. George promptly tells Daiji that his OS is woefully out of date and not even compatible. Meanwhile, while Daiji is being told he has to do a complete system overall to be software compatible, a concert is going on! Headlined by Ayaka's sister's idol group. Everyone's having a great time and dancing to the song. Everyone but Ayaka at least, who just wants her mom to look at her. When she still has no time for a non-idol daughter, Ayaka finally decides it's time for a Pokemon battle. Since Ayaka's mom doesn't have a Pokemon, Ikki and Vice transform to fight the Kong Pokemon in place of the mom. And with the encouragement of her new friend, the girl in the baseball cap that looks suspiciously like Angelina, Ayaka evolves her Pokemon using herself as an evolving stone. And the Kong Deadman's first mission: See if Ayaka's sister can fly. I'm sure if she believes, she can do it. This leads to Family Fight Round 2 between Ikki and Daiji because both are far too prideful and/or thinking of ways to make more money for the bathhouse.

Meanwhile, Daiji decides to offer an olive branch in the form of a new stamp, after both of them talked to their mom separately, who told both of them to knock it off.

The next day, Ayaka decides it's time for her sister to show off her night-long training for flying. And what do you know, her mom starts to actually talk to her. Ayaka will now get one (1) hour a week, uninterrupted with her mother without her sister. And with a patented Rider Kick (TM), Ayaka was separated from her leveled-up Kong Pokemon and Ikki wins the PokeBattle.

And finally, Ikki signs the contract. And Vice celebrates by watching someone Photoshop Ikki out of a family photo.

Zenkaiger: Yacchan and Magine go on a girls' day out to a nice cafe to have some fancy pastries without any wackiness involved. Such as a nice, calming day.

Meanwhile, Kaito is just trying to make some deliveries. Kaito is just trying to do his day job. Too bad boyfriend #2, Stacey, has decided that he hasn't had nearly enough alone time with Kaito and he will not be demoted in favor of the pirate. But Kaito is determined to make his mail rounds and tells him to meet up with Yatsune at Colorful. His not!grandma will be happy to fatten him up on more ice cream.

That's not good enough, and they will throw down now. At least Secchan told everyone what's happening between the two.

Left all alone with all the fancy baked goods, Yatsune waits. At least, until Tennis World shows up for the baked goods to turn everyone into tennis balls. The Tennis World is out of them you know. They can't play tennis if they have no balls. And people are abundant. But Yatsune comes to help! After helping the civilians escape, Yatsune bravely grabs her Geartlinger, and transforms into... wait, I'm being told she doesn't have a Geartlinger.

I'm now being told that she is being told that she does not have a Geartlinger. And now she's a tennis ball.

Coming to fight is Zox, because he's been home bored. While the group (and Stacey from his tsuntsun corner) is checking in with the newest tennis ball in the block, Vox is told by Tennis World that the only way to beat him is by tennis.

"So we will have a Tennis competition." -Vox, 2021

It turns out that Zox isn't just a manga otaku. He's a tennis otaku. And he picked up tennis because of his favorite manga, The Prince Pirate of Tennis. When Vox goes into a fandom, he goes in hard. And makes it his mission to make sure that the entire Zenkaiger group is at least not embarrassingly bad at tennis. Of course, when I say "Zox picked up tennis because of his manga" I of course mean, in that 10-minute discussion about the actual threat. But he's still better than the rest of the group.

At least Kaito is also slightly better than the rest of them. Also, good on Kaito for wearing his pride over his heart. Or at least I think that's his heart, I'm bad at anatomy.

We now enter into a cool, 90's montage which may or may not help with their backhand. So does Stacey, who turns out to be actually good at the tennis thing. Especially when all of his boyfriend's teammates are losing to rigged tennis. After Stacey puts on his best Prince Pirate of Tennis costume, he promptly shows how he is the 5-time Kikitopia champion of Rigged Tennis. Because the only thing Stacey loves more than tennis is hating on Tennis World. And Stacey promptly breaks the mask of the Tennis World and walks off. This gives the opening for the Zenkaiger and Twokaizer groups to finally beat the Tennis World, then beat the Dai Tennis World.

Zox even complements Stacey, which is met with a resounding "Fuck Off."

Back at Colorful, the two teams are given new celebratory towels and relay a story to Yatsune that "Satoshi" is pretty good at the tennis thing. Much to Yatsune's happiness, and Stacey's confusion somewhere else.

#precure #pretty cure #tropical rouge precure #tropical rouge pretty cure #kamen rider #kamen rider revice #zenkaiger #kikai sentai zenkaiger

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ask-artsy-oncie · 4 years ago

Note

I’m kind of interested in Talespin now thanks to you and lollytea, where do you think a good place to start would be?

Oh!! Awesome awesome awesome!!! It’s a very good show to be interested in!! Thank you for asking!!

Under the cut cos this is long!!

For starters, let’s talk about where you might want to watch it. Disney+ is a good, legal option, but, from what I’ve heard, the episodes aren’t in order on that service, and I also wouldn’t subscribe to that service just to watch one show. There are... *ahem*, OTHER sites that you can use to watch this show (THIS one works better on mobile devices but you’ll want to use their beta servers (which you can choose once you click on an episode to watch) to be the safest) but I strongly suggest that if you’re going to be watching cartoons in this manner, you’ll need to equip yourself with an adblocker at the very least. I also highly recommend finding a VPN to use (though it’s not completely necessary), and there are many free VPNs you can choose from, or others that offer up to a month of free trial time. Finally, another legal way to enjoy the show is to buy the DVDs, which are very nice quality. I have a few complete series DVD cartoon collections and I honestly think this is up there with the higher-quality ones. Though, realistically, you’ll want to make sure that you actually like the series before dropping something like $30 for a box set.

As for which episodes to watch? The absolute basics that you’ll need to understand the series is the 4-part pilot, Plunder & Lightning. This sets up all the main characters and their relation to one another. Just so you know, there is a scene that’s been cut from Plunder & Lightning that’s absent from pretty much any place you can watch the series. You can watch the isolated scene HERE, but wait until you finish Part 2 to do so.

The rest of the series is episodic (save for a few 2-part episodes here and there) and can technically be watched in any order. However, it’s very important to note that this series has a subtle sense of progression when the episodes are watched in order. Dynamics between characters change slightly, or a character who learns something in one episode (minor spoilers, but, for example, Becky learning how to fly) doesn’t magically lose that knowledge later, so there are just these subtle changes to the status quo that you might notice and potentially be confused by if you don’t watch the show chronologically.

I’ll give you some differently-tailored lists depending on what you’re interested in watching the series for. None of these will include Plunder & Lightning because it’s such a must-watch that all the lists would just have it by default.

If you want my personal recommendation on which episodes to watch:

It Came From Beneath The Sea Duck Time Waits for No Bear I Only Have Ice For You Molly Coddled Stormy Weather Bearly Alive Her Chance to Dream A Bad Reflection on You (Parts 1&2) A Baloo Switcheroo Feminine Air Save the Tiger The Old Man and the Sea Duck War of the Weirds Gruel and Unusual Punishment Jolly Molly Christmas My Fair Baloo Bringing Down Babyface Louie’s Last Stand Sheepskin Deep Your Baloo’s in the Mail The Incredible Shrinking Molly

If you want to watch episodes in preparation for the Ducktales 2017 crossover (Kit and Molly episodes):

It Came From Beneath The Sea Duck Mommy for a Day Molly Coddled Stormy Weather A Bad Reflection on You (Parts 1&2) Flight of the Snow Duck Save the Tiger Jolly Molly Christmas Flight School Confidential The Incredible Shrinking Molly

If you’re interested in Baloo and Rebecca’s relationship:

Time Waits for No Bear I Only Have Ice for You Stormy Weather Bearly Alive Her Chance to Dream A Star is Torn A Touch of Glass The Bigger They Are, the Louder They Oink A Spy in the Ointment The Balooest of the Bluebloods Whistlestop Jackson, Legend Feminine Air Save the Tiger War of the Weirds The Time Bandit Gruel and Unusual Punishment My Fair Baloo Pizza Pie in the Sky Your Baloo’s in the Mail The Incredible Shrinking Molly

And I wouldn’t be adding this list if you hadn’t specified me and Lolly, but since it definitely comes up a lot, here’s a list of episodes you’ll want to watch to understand at least half of what Lolly writes about Shere Khan and Shagheera lmao (Or - the Shere Khan episodes):

From Here to Machinery (minor) A Bad Reflection on You (Parts 1&2) On a Wing and a Bear Whistlestop Jackson, Legend Save the Tiger Citizen Khan Louie’s Last Stand Baloo Thunder (minor) Bullethead Baloo

It’s also worth mentioning that Talespin has a decent number of comics (and a few storybooks) that vary in quality and how believably they fit into canon. The main line of comics (before it got canceled after 7 issues) was going to delve pretty deeply into character backstories, though none of the show’s crew worked on the comics, and a few of these backstories (like Becky’s) were ones series creator Jymn Magon preferred to have left shrouded in mystery. So take of these stories for what you will.

Most of the scans (though they also exist in varying quality, and it might be viable to just buy an issue of the comics if you happen to like it a lot) can be found HERE (mobile friendly). This is a European fansite for Talespin (since fansites used to be the best place to store large archives of both fan and official material) and, though it seems like it isn’t kept up-to-date anymore, it does have a LOT of archives of old merchandise outside of the show, itself. My recommendations for the comics are as follow:

The Gates of Shambhala Danger With Danger Woman A Night on the Town Voodoo Baloo Pirate for a Day Congratulations, You Have Just Won... Flight of the Sky-Raker (Parts 1&2) Idiots Aboard! F’reeze A Jolly Good Fellow The Long Flight Home The Volcano of Gold

There’s also The Legend of the Chaos God, which is on this site, and was a massive Disney Afternoon crossover comic. It’s very long, and if you aren’t really a fan of many Disney Afternoon shows, you may get a little confused/disinterested. It is worth noting, though, that references to this comic have been made in Ducktales 2017.

One final thing I feel like I should mention: Talespin, and other Disney Afternoon properties, are still products of their time. They have themes and aspects that are no longer considered politically correct, and there are, quite frankly, some bad depictions of indigenous peoples present. These can be found both within the shows and within the comics. Some episodes of Talespin have even had enough excessive violence or themes that have rendered them “banned” due to television age-ratings changing heavily after the September 11th attacks. However, all episodes were made available on DVD and every method of watching the shows should have everything. There are references to the Cold War due to the time period the show was set (mid-1930′s) and the time that it was airing (1990, yeah the Cold War lasted a really long time...). There is excessive gun violence in this show and even depictions of attempted public execution.

These aren’t things that ruin the show for me. As someone who grew up watching older animation, you just learn to consume these things critically and still enjoy them despite this, which I highly recommend anyone watching the original Disney Afternoon shows (and any other older pieces of media) do. However, I don’t feel right dropping someone into the show blindly and pretend these things don’t exist. This and other Disney Afternoon shows don’t lose sight of the fact that they are, at the end of the day, cartoons for children, and the tone through which most of these elements are presented aren’t excessively dark. I think that if you can get past Plunder & Lightning just fine, the rest of the series should also be fine for you! If not, well, you probably just wouldn’t be comfortable with the rest of the show, and that’s okay, too! Not every piece of media is for everyone!

And with that, this should be everything you need to get into the series! I hope this has helped, and I hope you have as much fun watching the show as I do! I’m always happy to spread the love for Talespin!

#talespin #faq

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tellywoodtrash · 4 years ago

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immj2 30.10.20 lb

lol ishani is suchhhhhhhhh a messy bitch. not even pretending to look less than outright gleeful.

le, iska rona shuru. god sis, you knowwwwwww these bitches have it out for you, then why do you give them the satisfaction of seeing this reaction???

yeh aadmi hai ya bhagwaan? koi bhi jagaah koi bhi time marzi se prakat ho jaata hai.

THAT FUCKING STUPIDASS SCARF IS RUINING THE WHOLEEEEEE LOOOK. GOD WHY DO THEY DO THIS TO HIM?????????

TUMNE JITNE TELLYWOOD FANS KO KHOOOON KE AANSOON RULAAYE HAINNNNA SHIRALI, BHAGWAN TUMHE IN PAAPON KE LIYE KABHI NAHI MAAF KAREGA!!!!!!!!!!

also, just noticed the set and production design credits and finally have names to put on all the hate mail i wanna send.

naaaah jk, i think it's really nice that they got employment in this pandemic, even with their OBVIOUS lack of taste. so much so, that it seems to be a medical condition!

anyway, he said he got this sargi for ishani on behalf of angre, but since she's got hers anyway, this one can be given to riddhima. noice. this fucker be worming his way into my heart with shit like this.

inka phir se popat bann gaya.

mummy biting out and giving the worst blessing of all, “sadaa suhaagan raho.” which is just an elaborate way of saying "hope you die before your husband does, because life without a man is worse than death itself!!!!!!"

“thank you mummyji. aapne ~~sachchi neeyat~~~ se sargi taiyyar kii thi toh dekhiye, mere haath khaali nahi hain!”

lmao nice. where was this riddhima allllll along?????? i've been waitinggggg for this snarky bitchhhhh who doesn't take shit!!!!!

le, aadarsh bahu mode is back on. sab ke liye koi paath ka intezaam kiya. chanchal chachi was right, she's suchhhhh a annoying suck-up to dadi, honestly.

husband is like here, no one's looking; sneak some almonds, come on. yes, i approve. this the kinda man* you want ladies. one who's willing to have a few hours taken off his lifespan so you don't get hangry.

(*T&C strictly apply: only in this feeding waala criteria wrt this dude. baaki sab toh disaster hi disaster hai iss mein.)

“kaisi baat kar rahe ho??? vrat sachchi nishtha se kii jati hai. koi nahi dekh raha par bhagwaan dekh rahe hain!”

lmao, the most appropriate response.

wait you guys genuinely need a gif of this moment, coz it’s priceless:

i can't believe they don't let this dude move his face in this show when he is the MOST ENTERTAINING when he doessssss.

he's like dude i'll adjust with the 2 hours less in my life, but dharampatni is i won’t let you escape a minute of suffering existence in this flesh prison we’re all trapped in, so help me god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

who the fuckkkkkkkkk is this????? and you know you didn't need a needle on the syringe for this whole thing, don't you???

vansh's "baaz ki nazar" toh i've long given up on, but riddhima's peripheral vision also seems to be completely shit if she didn't notice a wholeass person wrapped in all black skulking around directly in her eyeline, not 10 feet away.

lmaooooooo dadi is like tf you doing here, and the hasty retreat he beat. scaryass men soft for their sweet old grandmas is a trend i really do love in tellywood.

oh i like ishani's outfit.

blah blah blah KC gyaan idgaf.

riddhima has lit diya and instant cough attack from the smoke.

it's her. she's the one who did this. looks like she's okay with bhai dying a few days earlier than fated, as long as it means she knocks riddhima down a few pegs.

mummy rubbing it in saying dekho yeh akhand paath hai, beech mein rukna nahi chahiye, apshagun hota hai. godddddddddddddd.

I HONESTLY CANNOT WATCH HER COUGH AND CHOKE THROUGH THIS THE SHEER RIDICULOUSNESS OF THIS IS FUCKING KILLING MEEEEEEEEE

yeh lo ji, parmeshwar prakat ho gaye to save the day and read the paath himself.

all dudes in the world should be in whatever business this guy and angre are in. ki biwi mil gayi toh it manages itself while he devotes himself to her.

lmao the sheer earnestness with which he's narrating the KC paath. both wholesome and fucking hilarious. looks like those primary school kids at their first public speaking contest.

i am ishani. god, why won't this scene just endddddddd already, i'm dying of cringe.

whoooooooooooops. bhai is pointedly asking ki how riddhima's throat got messed up when she was fine like 3 min ago.

behen is giving earnesttttttt excuses and he's really "sure jan"-ing her.

dadi's all no matter what issues crop up in these two's lives, i'm sure they'll win over it with their lurrrrrrrrrrrrrrve. yeah, it looks that way rn, but i wouldn't be quite so optimistic yet, dadi.

literally no one is surprised by this revelation.

oh god, she has something more planned. man who are these ppl with so much energy in their lives WHILE PREGNANT, to do such scheming and plotting??????? just my period cramps have me taking 2 hours off work to curl up on my heat pad and cry about ouchieeeeeee.

great. ragini ko ab daure pad rahein hain.

and poor angre is saddled with getting her treatment. WHY DOES HE HAVE TO DEAL WITH ALL THESE TROUBLESOME WOMEN IN YOUR LIFE VANSH?!?!?! EK ADIYAL BEHEN ISKE SAR PE BAANDH DI HAI WOH KAAFI NAHI THA, KI AB INVALID EX KO BHI ISKE HI HAATH MEIN THAMAA DIYA. i know you got your hands full with that disaster wife of yours, but come on man.

oh god is he gonna blow up at her again for eavesdropping!?!!?!?!?

thank the lord above, she had airpods in. (also lmao, ofc she's literally the airpods meme.)

isn't HE supposed to give HER a gift today???

i liked his other watch better. but this watch is supposedly riddhima “ke dil ki dhadkano se judi hai” so........ i'm no expert in cutting edge watch technology, so sure. sounds like something that would be available for the wives of billionaire gangster’s wives to buy.

oh man she got herself a matching one. which ofc is “tumhare dil ki dhadkano se judi hai.” lord, she CHEESY CHEESYYYYYYYYYYYY. and i'm mildly lactose intolerant, so 🤢🤢🤢

this dude is not though. he falling for this hard and fast. which is....... unexpected. nice, but also suspicious.

“yeh ghadiyaan chahe rahein naa rahein riddhima, lekin tum mere dil mein hamesha rahogi.”

that's sweet. and i'd believe and squee over it if this was any other show. i would. but in this show, literally everyone other than dadi/siya is out to fuck each other over and i don't trust a single goddamn word out their hissy snake mouths.

aaaaaaaaaaaaand ofc he's vrat-ing for her too. BECAUSE THIS IS A FEMINIST SHOW WITH THIS VERY FEMINIST HERO OK?!!!!!!?!?!!!!?!? THIS ONE EPISODE ABSOLVES ALLLLLLLLLLLL THE OTHER 98 EPISODES FILLED WITH HOT FLAMING TRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!

“apni umar badhaake kya karoonga main, agar tum saath nahi ho. main chahta hoon ki tum meri zindagi ki aakhri saans tak mere saath raho.”

again, very very sweet and all, esp. with these soft melty eyes; but it's this show. and we saw the upcoming promo. sooooooooo, kill bill sirens in my head, i'm afraid.

both mann hi mann mein deciding to tell each other the truth about their backstories after the vrat. which should work out splendidlyyyyyyy.

lo ji dream sequence shuru. voot blocked the music but colors put up the scene with bol na halke halke on instaTV so i watched it there.

yesssssssssss you messy trainwrecks. get it onnnnnnnnnn.

this is literally alllll i am watching this show for. the moment y'all bang in canon, i'm outttttttttttt. it's always the best time to quit a tellywood show. always. take this protip from wise, old TT. quit the show the episode the lead couples fuck. just trust me on this.

idk WHOSE dream sequence this is, but lmao it's got the vibes of a not-that-great wedding "promo" thing ppl have got going on these days. which one of y'all is binging these on youtube and thus has their subconscious filled with it/??? it's gotta be riddhima, but it would be absolutely fucking hilariousssssss if it was in fact, vansh.

yup. it was her dumb ass. i bet she had the exact video in mind for kabir and just cut-copy-pasted vansh's face in there from the last week onwards.

oh chachi's back from maayka for vrat kholing.

mans literally do be looking like the chand today. because they eased up on his yellow foundation, thank god.

poor ishani. god, this is why we need feminism. so our sisters don't get pushed into shit like this against their willllllllllllllllll.

dadi and siya shipping riansh to the point of making ppl uncomfortable. what next, you gonna be writing mature fanfic about them on IF????? BACK THE FUCK OFF, YOU WEIRDOS.

“humaare plans kamyaab hote toh vansh iss waqt riddhima ko zeher ki pyaali pilaa raha hota. hmph.”

lmaoooooooooooooooo mummy is an eternalllllllll mood.

this one is getting overly emotional about her first completed karwachauth vrat. eat a snickers, bitch.

dadi overpromising and saying shit like evennnnnnnnn god himself can't shake your love for each other, tumhari prem kahaani billlkulllll pooori hogi and what not. oh dadi, did YOU not see the promo?????

this one got the footage she needed and has duly handed it over to bhai. both of vansh's sisters have the trait for going straightttttt to him with their sordid discoveries, albeit for completely polar reasons.

lmaoooooo the way she peaced out.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand he's started growling about how all this KC naatak was fake and and vowing revenge and games for her dhokaaaaaaaaaa. i hate to say it but............ i told you so.

also abbe oh gobar ganesh. itna CCTV footage mila hai kahin se, toh baaki ka bhi toh dhoond, where you see how she got into the bloody dickey?!?!???! nahi, 2 out-of-context second hi dekh ke paagal saand ki taraah bekaabu ho jaana hai. shit for brains, literally everyone in this show has.

anyway, if i was vansh’s murti maker, i’d be expecting a call righhhhhht about now. riddhima yahaan rahe na rahe, uski murti zaroor rahegi, which vansh and his next paramour will demolish together as a bonding/foreplay exercise.

#ishq mein marjawan 2 #immj2 #immj2 lbs #episode liveblogs

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