#like am i supposed to believe there was anything ''defective'' about her that meant she had to be stopped from vigilantism AT ALL COSTS
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early 00s comics be like. everyone was SO mean to stephanie for NO reason.
#reading in rapid succession how bruce is blacklisting her and the bop refuse to keep training her#and cass just keeps knocking her unconscious adsñlfkja (which barbara practically cheers on because steph is just soooo annoying apparently#like am i supposed to believe there was anything ''defective'' about her that meant she had to be stopped from vigilantism AT ALL COSTS#(except whenever it was convenient to bruce)#but every other child/teen vigilante is just. fine? like. how is her case different than tim's?#(other than bruce needing a teenaged minder as to not get overly violent and kills someone)#and i'm sure she made mistakes* along the way but lbr batman comics are notoriously hypocritical re: whose mistakes are forgiven#(*this is all before war games but that was another story and straight up character assassination lbr)#talking to the void#my thoughts#dc thoughts#dc#dc comics#stephanie brown#bitter lau tag
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I honestly think this is undeniable...;
I mean, if Kamiki isn’t Sarutahiko Okami, then why would the word "noblilty" be used? Why do you think Aqua reacted that way when hearing the name "Ame-no-Uzume"?
If there weren’t ANY divine elements involved, I wouldn’t be saying anything; but, even in the final chapter, they mentioned that the gods probably sent Ruby, didn’t they?
The story of Oshi no Ko is an homage to the Tenson Kōrin (The Descent of the Heavenly Grandchild) from Japanese mythology.
After meeting his wife, Ame-no-Uzume(Ai), Sarutahiko(Hikaru) eventually handed over his position as the sun god to Amaterasu(Ruby). In a way, this meant that his nobility or influence somewhat diminished.
The song lyrics said that he was given a fatal flaw. Contextually, this is Hikaru’s line about Ai; after losing Ai, he developed a defect. This actually parallels what happened in the myths: he’s willing to sacrifice his "nobility" to bring Ai back.
The shrine where the main characters went to make their wishes was the shrine of Ame-no-Uzume and Sarutahiko, and all of the wishes made there came true! I’m telling you, this is all because of Kamiki. Ai is dead! The only god left to grant wishes is this person. He's the Sarutahiko, the god of fulfilled wishes that's become fatally flawed!
This person became a deity who can guarantee results, but he’s twisted to the point of granting wishes in a distorted manner.
These kinds of interactions appear in the story! I wouldn’t bring it up if they didn’t!
Originally, he was a god who guided people along the right path! People pray to Sarutahiko for traffic safety!! But imagine him as a navigation system that takes you to your destination, but the journey itself becomes cursed with misfortune, absurdity, and irrationality now—that’s the "flaw".
That’s why Aqua put his own life on the line to stop this person, to prevent him from ruining Ruby’s and everyone's future.
Ultimately, all of the wishes Kamiki realized or perceived were granted in the end. Socially, he’s completely destroyed. Akane calls him a monster, right? How does a once "noble" person become this wrecked? I don’t get it. The more I study it, the less sense it makes. Looking at scenes where Ai and this person were together, they seemed genuinely happy with each other. In my opinion, they even stayed in touch occasionally. They couldn’t be together because they were too young, but he knew about her pregnancy and she called him on a public phone. It’s hard to believe he’d suddenly turn against her. Ai’s reactions to him were pretty neutral. It’s like Ai was always worried about Hikaru, fearing he might go astray.
Chapter 154 is seriously too genuine. I think Ai’s feelings about him are the most important thing.
She said she wanted to be with him forever...;;
And Kamiki felt the same way. Didn’t he say he wanted to feel Ai forever?
If they’re divine spouses, they’d truly be together forever. It’s really supposed be that way; they’re divine spouses at their core. What Hikaru thought in 153, that was actually what was SUPPOSED TO BE. They were originally like that as gods!!
They reciprocated each other’s feelings, both of them define each other as being the "same" as they are. And neither of them was ordinary. If you examine the lyrics, Ai is the reincarnation of a star, while Kamiki fell from grace. Given that supernatural elements explicitly play a role in the story, this isn’t just metaphorical.
Yesterday, when I talked about this with a friend, they asked,
“Why would he be considered noble? There’s no scene where he saves someone or helps others, and as a kid, he seemed "naive". But there weren't many scenes to see if he could be defined as having nobility.”
Yeah. Right? Just why include the detail that his soul was noble? I’m telling you, it’s because he’s the virtuous god Sarutahiko.
There are a lot of things in this work that can’t be explained without divine elements; that’s why I’ve researched mythology and analyzed things this way—because it makes sense with that being taken into consideration. Without these elements, the story would have too many gaps. But if you incorporate mythological settings, they fill in the blanks.
There’s even talk about shattered souls, which I can explain too! Since I started re-reading this work, the strange song lyrics gave me an inkling that something deeper was there, so I immediately began interpreting it along these lines.
Kamiki is a distorted god that became of "absurdity and irrationality"(seriously, what's been happening around him's EXACTLY that!! Even Aqua turned unreasonable!!), while Ai is "the god who loves people". They were originally divine spouses who blessed and protected the entertainment world, but once they incarnated as humans, things fell into chaos. The protagonists were born as their children to resolve this turmoil.
How else can you interpret this? If there were no reincarnation or divine elements involved, I wouldn’t bring it up. But there’s too much evidence to ignore. Besides, "love" probably held a significant meaning for those two gods.
Tsukuyomi said the entertainment world wasn’t her domain.
I’m telling you, Kamiki and Ai are the gods who oversee the entertainment industry, which is why they each took part as an actor and an idol.
But just like the lyrics, "I've forgotten who I lived as!" and "Remember who you lived with," in Mephisto, they forgot who they were and that they were spouses. Kamiki probably only remembered it after Ai’s death, which made him start searching for people with the qualities to bring light and wandering around collecting light to offer as sacrifices. Judging by the lyrics, without Ai, he'd always lack the light of love and remained extremely hollow. He could never return to the white star or have chances of it—not until he saw Ruby.
I don’t think he truly intended to kill her, but intentions aside, Kamiki has become so dangerous and uncontrollable that he needs to be eliminated. Aqua’s mission is to take him down, which is why he constantly says he’ll have to go to hell—because he has to kill someone.
These ideas may seem far-fetched, but if you put everything together, this is the most plausible explanation. There’s no other way to make sense of it based on what’s shown in the story. I’m right. How else would you explain it?
#oshi no ko#oshi no theories#oshi no ko spoilers#hikaai#hikaru kamiki#ai hoshino#spoilers#is there any other way to bring everything together?? I can't think of anything else#I've been going on about this EVER since fatal was out and my theories got revised and enhanced#this should really be it!
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Alright these fuckers are Done and Named. And while i'm sure they all have meaningful introductions and an intricate web of relationship dynamics that we could spend hours poring over. I do not have that kind of time.
Everyone skips to act 5 act 1? We're Skipping act 5 act 1.
Uno reverse card bitch.
-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --
EB: hey flighty! TT: Hi. EB: how are you doing? i don't even remember the last time we talked. EB: i have been so busy. EB: and it looks like you have been too. EB: i mean, hopy shit! EB: my house is HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE! TT: Actually, building up your house has been one of the more trivial ways I've passed the time. TT: Great swaths of the structure may be copied and pasted with little architectural consideration. TT: I've only bothered to do so while in contemplation. TT: It's relaxing. EB: oh. EB: well, it must have cost a fortune! TT: We have a lot of grist. EB: how much? TT: I don't recall any hard figures off hand. TT: Last I checked, more than a million units of several different types. TT: Torrented between the three of us. TT: After I unlocked the disc from your registry and deployed it. TT: I convinced your nanna to install it on your computer. TT: Before an imp threw it out the window, that is. EB: you got her to do that? but she's an old lady! also, a ghost. TT: My methods of persuasion have been improving. EB: also! EB: what's up with the alchemiter? EB: it looks weird. TT: Upgrades. EB: did you get nanna to do that too? TT: No, your consorts were utilized for that. EB: the salamanders?? TT: Yes. They seem eager to receive simple instruction. TT: I'm guessing they find their way back to your house to allow the client player to remain productive while the server player is away. EB: yeah… EB: uh… EB: what have you been doing this whole time??? TT: Why don't you tell me what you've been up to first? TT: I've been curious, but too preoccupied to inquire. EB: well, EB: i have been talking to a lot of trolls, for one thing. EB: they sure are a talkative bunch! TT: I've noticed. EB: and then i cloned some slime babies in the veil. TT: Did you? EB: yes. um… EB: ok, long story short is, farmstink is my slime clone sister, and insufferable is your slime clone brother, and we were all born today! TT: Yes. EB: yes? TT: I figured that out. EB: oh. TT: Anything else? EB: umm… EB: then i fell asleep, and woke up on the battlefield. EB: now stop being so spookily mysterious and tell me what you've been doing! TT: Investigating, mostly. EB: investigating what? TT: Everything there is to investigate. TT: Information hidden in the lore of our lands, concealed in ruins and riddles. TT: I'm looking for whatever there is to discover about the game, and more importantly, whatever exceeds its boundaries. TT: The cloaked traces of myth beyond its scope. EB: its scope? EB: oh, flighty, did you know that we are supposed to be creating a universe with this game? TT: Yes. EB: i think that's pretty neat! TT: It is, in principle. TT: But it won't happen. EB: so you believe the trolls then? TT: It's not a matter of believing them. TT: The writing is on the wall. Literally. EB: it is? TT: This session was never meant to bear fruit. TT: It's barren, so to speak. EB: that's a bit of a bummer! EB: i am still skeptical about that, though. TT: That's why you're our leader, Zoosmell. EB: huh? TT: Optimism through stalwart skepticism is a defect not everyone is lucky enough to be cursed with. EB: that's stupid. EB: i'm not your leader, i am your FRIEND, there is a BIG difference! TT: Statements like that are also why you're our leader. EB: pff. EB: laaaaaaaame. TT: Yes, kind of. EB: so, if you're sure that we are going to fail… EB: what is the point of everything we're doing? TT: Simple. TT: The objective is no longer to win. EB: um… EB: i mean, what are we actually shooting for here? TT: To do as much damage to the game as possible. TT: To rip its stitches and pry answers from the seams. TT: We will snatch purpose from the jaws of futility. TT: Are you ready to wreak some havoc, Zoosmell? EB: i suddenly don't understand anything.
-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] --
GA: Okay This Will Probably Strike You As An Odd Moment For Me To Mention This GA: But Actually GA: There Are Not Many Moments Ive Observed On Your Timeline Which Wouldnt Qualify As Odd GA: And Somehow GA: Your Idle Moments Seem To Invite Interruption The Least GA: And This Is A Difficult Topic For Me To Broach GA: For Reasons That You Probably Wont Understand TT: You're rambling again, Queer. GA: Okay Sorry GA: Ive Just Been Meaning To Say GA: That I Read Your Instructional Guide
TT: Oh? GA: Yeah TT: Sorry to hear you were subjected to that. GA: Why TT: It was a little melodramatic in retrospect. Heavy-handed. TT: Have you ever written a message you regretted instantly upon sending? GA: Lately GA: Almost Perpetually TT: That line included? GA: Wow Yeah Kind Of GA: Also GA: That One TT: I'm sure you must regard the walkthrough as pretty quaint. GA: Actually GA: At The Time Of Reading It Lent Some Useful Insight GA: Into The Nature Of The Game I Hadnt Yet Considered TT: At the time? TT: When exactly did you read it? GA: Uh GA: By The Way GA: What Are You Doing Here GA: Is This Part Of Your Ongoing Investigation
TT: Yes. GA: Are These Tactics Really Necessary TT: It's faster this way. TT: If there's one thing you and your friends regularly remind us, it's that time is not on our side. GA: I Know GA: But I Thought Our Methods Earlier Were Effective TT: My current strategy is comprehensive. TT: Your notes have been helpful, but the facts you've supplied are being cross-referenced with understandings I already have, and data gathered by the sort of means presently on display. GA: But These Means Presently On Display GA: Are Making Me A Little Nervous GA: I Think Its Kind Of A Reckless Use Of GA: Influence By The Gods From The Furthest Ring GA: The Communion You Seem To Have Developed With Them I Find Kind Of Troubling TT: I don't think they are as nefarious as you might imagine. TT: Many of them seem to be intent on helping us. GA: How Exactly Do You Know That TT: From their whispers in my dreams. GA: How Much Time Have You Really Spent Sleeping GA: Since You Began Playing TT: Not much. TT: But quite a lot in a failed timeline. TT: And now and then, memories surface from that alternate reality. TT: They spoke to me in my sleep and told me much of what I needed to know. TT: Including what to do to reset our timeline and create the present reality. GA: That Makes Me No Less Nervous TT: I have assurances I'm on the right track. TT: Surely you must have spoken to the gods by now. TT: What did they tell you to make you so suspicious? GA: Actually GA: I Havent GA: I Have Never Visited Derse Or Traveled Beyond The Veil GA: Prospits Moon Was My Home TT: It was? GA: Yes TT: This surprises me. GA: Why TT: … TT: Good question. GA: Skaia Was Always The Foil For My Curiosity GA: But It Only Showed Me What I Needed To See GA: It Very Much Had The Presence Of Something Sentient GA: And GA: Benevolent GA: But Silent GA: Not Something To Converse With Or Be Instructed By GA: I Always Trusted It GA: And I Dont Trust Gods That Would Eschew Its Light TT: You didn't actually answer my question. TT: When was it exactly that you read my walkthrough?
GA: Oh GA: A While Ago GA: Why Dont You Put The Turtle Ruins Down GA: And Return To Your House GA: I Have Sketched Some New Outfits For You That I Think Are Nice GA: We Could Try To Make Them GA: It Will Be Fun TT: You seem to have taken quite an interest in my wardrobe decisions. TT: Are all trolls so fashion-minded? GA: Urrgh No GA: Sadly TT: Maybe later. GA: What If There Isnt A Later TT: Well, we already know there won't be. TT: That's nothing new. GA: I Mean GA: There Not Being A Later Might Happen Sooner Than You Think TT: Wow, what? GA: I Mean GA: For You Specifically GA: Okay GA: This Was Something Else I Wanted To Say GA: Or Ask About GA: But Im Afraid My Asking Might Play A Role In The Outcome GA: And I Dont Know If I Want That
TT: The outcome will happen one way or another. TT: Whether you have something to do with it or not. TT: You might as well ask me. GA: Um TT: I have a question for you too. TT: Let's swap ignorance, ok? GA: Alright GA: I Cant See You In The Future GA: The Viewport Wont Let Me After A Certain Point GA: Its Black GA: But Only For You GA: Not The Others TT: When? GA: Several Hours From Now GA: Do You Know Why This Could Be TT: I have no idea. TT: I can't see the future. TT: But I promise that if I have a hand in it, it won't be because you told me. TT: Does that make you feel better? GA: Sort Of GA: But It Remains Ominous TT: Is that why you want to dissuade me from my admittedly zealous investigation to go play dress-up again? TT: Because our time here is almost up? GA: Also Sort Of TT: That's thoughtful of you. GA: What Was Your Question GA: I Believe Youre Owed Some Compensatory Ignorance TT: Yes. TT: I was wondering.
TT: What do you know about the Green Sun? GA: Ive Never Heard Of It TT: Thank you. TT: The transaction was very tidy. GA: Agreed
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#cinder has never known a mother#only masters#if/when salem does manage to finally spit it out#will cinder even believe her?#and what happens between them if she doesn't? (via @sigruned)
i think whether cinder believes or not will be contingent on the accompanying action—as long as the beacon vault stays closed, cinder’s going to take everything salem does and says as means-to-an-end toward opening the vault, because that is after all what salem needs her for and the nature of the vaults and the maidens dictates that cinder is irreplaceable until the minute that door is opened. the only way cinder believes her prior to that is if salem spits it out in the course of doing something to protect cinder that makes it impossible to open the vault.
after the beacon vault is open and the crown in play the narratively obvious point of critical mass is a binary choice between sacrificing the crown to save cinder or sacrificing cinder to secure the crown, and if that’s how it goes down i think cinder has to believe the honest answer to “why” because salem prioritizing her over one of the relics that have been salem’s sole apparent focus and motivation and reason for doing anything flies completely in the face of everything cinder knows and believes about how the world is. a “losing you is the cost too great” spoken in action before it’s put into words is what it will take to stick the landing, so to speak.
if it’s before and anything less than that, i think cinder doesn’t believe her and immediately tries to provoke salem into showing her true colors, because in the event she perceives salem as as attempting to use an affectation of ‘love’ to control her i think she’ll be snapped right back emotionally to the betrayal she felt when rhodes drew on her. whether that looks like going berserk and attacking salem or taking off or taking off with a relic, it’s about recreating that moment when the mask came off.
except that in salem’s case it’s the cruelty that is the mask and then you open a door for an interesting situation where cinder has defected for the specific purpose of provoking retaliation and salem chooses to let her go, which 1. i think would make cinder really mad because she doesn’t understand it, and 2. whacks her sideways back into “i don’t have to run now,” and thence to the question of what does she want to do with herself, actually, if the only reason she has for running now is to instead of from.
i’d put my bet on the vault-still-closed option not just because it’s obviously the one with greater potential for dynamic change but also because i think it would be really funny if cinder like. left, realized salem was not going to come after her, went “wait what the fuck am i supposed to do NOW” because she doesn’t know what to do with herself when she’s not locked in desperate power struggles, floated around broodily setting things on fire for a while to process her feeling about this, tripped over those ruins in the emerald forest where ozpin hid the relic of choice, and went oh i’m about to be hilarious and swanned back to salem with the crown in full i-totally-meant-to-do-that cat mode. on theme too.
I've said it before and I'll say it again - the moment Cinder gets the memo as to Salem caring about her will be hilarious. Or heart rending. Also it clicking for everyone else in the cast.
And chop another comparison up for Yang and Cinder. Raven is rather bad at being a mother but there's the untested "Only one save" rule/Raven's priorities versus Yang's life. If you're right that Salem will have to choose between the Crown and Cinder and chooses Cinder...
i want to see how far this escalates before salem manages to choke out the words honestly and without any obfuscation because within a matter of months it’s gone from telling cinder to be careful at haven, to exploding all the windows in a furious panic when she found out cinder would have to face off against ozma to get the lamp, to dropping everything to rush to atlas with a zillion grimm, to razing vale to the ground in a bid to force the vacuo coalition to attack her with the sword because having a zillion grimm in atlas did nothing to actually diminish the danger a rival maiden poses to cinder.
the closest she’s gotten to saying how she feels is “you deserve so much more than i’ve given you” and she had to torture cinder first to ensure cinder wouldn’t believe her. and cinder is going to be fighting to wring every mile she can possibly get out of the inch salem gave her. the trajectory is salem getting pushed by cinder being hurt over and over and over until she hits a breaking point and the facade shatters. and i want so much to find out what her limit is.
bc cinder is very cunning and can smell weakness like blood in the water. if she hasn’t already put together that she can squeeze concessions out of salem by endangering herself she’s bound to figure that out sooner rather than later. and what then?
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I Like You (Alexandra Trese x Diwata!Reader)
gif not mine |main masterlist|
summary: In the middle of a case, confessions arise
word count: 2046
warnings: mentions of illness, filipino traffic, i don’t proofread stuff
a/n: i’m only now writing again haha puta nakakagago yung writer’s block
Team Trese was at it again with maintaining the balance between the Underworld and the world of humans. It wasn’t too difficult of a job to keep up with when your team—some would use that term loosely—consisted of Alexandra Trese, Hank Sparrow, The Kambal, and y/n. She was one of the newer recruits to the team.
To outsiders, y/n was an enigma; she was a Diwata and yet nothing about her behavior would even suggest that she was one. The way she would often act was unbecoming of one’s expectations for a Diwata. There was no way one could instantly come to the conclusion that she was one especially with the glamour she wore to disguise her own appearance.
Diwatas existed to preserve nature; one would expect them to keep a calm-headed demeanor, glimmering with an aura of positivity and radiance, all coming from the beauty of the environment that they shroud themselves in. If a monarchy were to take place in the Underworld, the Diwatas would be the epitome of regality, carrying themselves with grace and compassion.
But y/n? She was a different story. At first glance, one may believe her to be a “corrupted” Diwata as she didn’t seem to uphold the same values her sisters did. Alexandra, though, held different impressions and thoughts on the h/c-haired deity.
To Alexandra, the “darker” side to y/n wasn’t an irreversible defect coming from when she came to be. Alexandra knew there was so much more to the girl besides her impartiality to the way other Diwatas lived their lives and how she chose to live hers differently, hiding herself amongst the humans. There was so much more to her than meets the eye.
Alexandra was sure y/n was a product to the environment she was born into. As one of the younger—well, if you could call nearly a century on the planet young—Diwatas, she didn’t get to experience nature at its peak, not the way the elders did, at least. She was not birthed to the beautiful colors of nature, nor the peace nature could provide one with.
No. Alexandra understood that the girl was born to the destruction of what it was she was meant to be protecting. She didn’t get the opportunity to witness what it was she had to protect. She didn’t get to see the place she was meant to call home as the forest she was supposed to inhabit had been turned into a city before she could understand how to use her abilities.
If anything, the human world poisoned y/n’s outlook on what it meant to be a Diwata. All the pointless destruction brought her both anguish and confusion. However, birthed from that confusion was y/n’s innocent need to help nature become one with the city life. Her goal was to at least bring small bits and pieces of what the world used to be into the city.
“What’s the next case for today, Bossing?” Crispin questioned as soon as Alexandra set her phone down next to her in her seat.
“There have been reports of illness among a group of Lumberjacks in the province. Some people are convinced it has something to do with supernatural beings who may have inhabited the forest. I was hoping y/n would know something about it,” Alexandra explained, sending y/n an eager glace, as though to ask what could have caused the fatigue to spread amongst the lumberjacks.
“Well, they’re lumberjacks, there are plenty of beings they could’ve pissed off,” y/n explained, earning a nod from both Crispin and Basilio, “I mean, there are plenty of creatures who live up in trees. It’s either that or the trees were in another creature’s domain. Either way, all this may have something to do with the chopping of trees.”
“Could a Diwata have done this?” Hank questioned, earning a small glare from Alexandra before he backed up his statement to defend himself, “It’s just that the Encantados and Encantadas have been known for their power. y/n over here’s pretty powerful too, so we may never know if a Diwata could be responsible for this too or not.”
“Hank’s right, but if there’s a Diwata taking domain over that land, I would have known already. Diwatas are mostly peaceful beings, and if there’s one of us out there riddling the human world with disease, there would have been some talk of it amongst the other Diwatas,” y/n explained, a small smirk making its way to her face as she added, “The older generation of Diwatas; they can be such gossips at times.”
“So, it’s not a Diwata? Could it be a nuno or duwende living in the tree when it was cut down? Maybe they’re the ones spreading disease in the form of a curse,” Basilio suggested, earning a small nod of encouragement from his twin brother.
“Well, the only way to know is to actually go to where the lumberjacks were working and investigate,” Alexandra stated firmly, before everybody else returned to whatever it was they’d been doing in the car; Hank driving, the Twins conversing over whatever topics it was that came to mind for them, y/n looking through social media in an attempt to keep up with everything happening in the human world, and Alexandra already thinking of possible solutions to whatever the problems they might have ended up encountering.
The ride to the province took longer than expected. Despite the fact that they all left the house pretty early, it was already well into the afternoon—Philippine traffic was a pain in the ass when it came to travelling to the province from the city—when they finally parked the car in front of one of the houses in the Barangay.
“This is the house of Danilo Corpuz, he’s one of the lumberjacks who fell ill after a day from work,” Alexandra explained, earning a nod from everybody else as they all got out the car and into the house.
Alexandra made quick work of questioning the man, asking him about what he’d been doing, where they were cutting down trees, and if there’d been any signs of anything supernatural going on.
“There were burnt up cigars and emptied out bottles of Red Horse at the trunks of the trees,” the man explained to them, as everyone present came to the realization of what it was they were all going to be facing.
“How are we supposed to deal with the Kapres? They’ve been known to be vengeful and difficult to talk down whenever their trees are chopped,” Basilio huffed as the others slowly nodded in agreement. The Kapres were stubborn; there was no way to talk them out of seeking revenge however it was they saw fit considering it was the humans who’d made the first “attack” on their homes.
“Trust me, I’ll find a way through it. Now, come on, let’s go. We don’t have time to waste, there could be lethal effects of the illness—or curse—if we don’t hurry,” Alexandra ushered them all back into the car. She sat at the front seat, studying the conditions of the treaty to see whether or not the Kapres laying their curses on the humans was against it and what punishments she could serve them.
y/n smiled to herself, witnessing the determination on Alexandra’s face. She watched silently as the woman began to look through the items she kept in her coat for something that could be useful for them.
“Hank, can we stop at a sari-sari store first?” y/n questioned, watching Hank’s eyebrow arch from the rearview mirror as though to question her on what could be so important for her to buy that it would delay the trip to the woods, “I need to buy a few bottles of Red Horse and some Marlboro. I figured it would help get the Kapres to loosen up and talk to us.”
“That’s a great idea, Ate y/n!” Crispin exclaimed, high-fiving y/n upon hearing her suggestion, “Besides, I’m getting tired of all the fighting and having to regenerate.”
“Does it consume your energy whenever you have to regenerate?” y/n questioned, raising a brow at the twins as Crispin chuckled.
“No,” the twins chimed in unanimously. y/n found herself chuckling at their remark before getting off the car to where Hank stopped. Alexandra watched intently as the enchanting woman spoke with the tindera at the store before walking back in the car, plastic bag filled with vices swinging in her hand.
Turns out, the woods where the lumberjacks had been working wasn’t too far from Danilo’s home. From the sari-sarii store, the trip there must have lasted them ten minutes. Everyone hopped out the car and ventured into the shadowy woods, knowing damn well what they were about to encounter.
“I know you’re here,” Alexandra called out to the thick branches of the tallest trees in the forest. It was silent for a moment until the leaves on the branches began shuffling until at least four kapres made their presence known, no longer cloaking themselves with invisibility.
“Little Trese, what’s this visit about?” one of the Kapres questioned, his dark eyes beaming into Alexandra’s. It was clear they weren’t exactly welcome there. Still, y/n wanted to try her best to avoid confrontation, so she slowly made her way towards the Kapre’s tree, then motioning for him to come down.
As a Diwata, she and the other creatures of the forest naturally held mutual understandings between each other; after all, to some degree their interests and beliefs intersected where it mattered the most—preserving their homes. Hesitantly, the Kapre made his way off the tree as the team could only watch the interaction unfold.
“You know what I am, don’t you?” y/n questioned slowly, tucking her hair between her pointed ears, giving a small smile as she dropped her glamour to reveal her true divine form, the Kapre nodded as y/n continued, “Right, well, these are my friends. Alexandra wishes to have a word with you and you will hear her out. In return, you get this.”
The Kapre eyed the contents of the bag before nodding, taking the bag from y/n’s grasp and motioning for the others to get off the tree. y/n watched intently as the Tribe communicated with Alexandra, voicing their reasons, and listening as Alexandra tried her best to come up with a compromise to make sure no humans would get hurt and the Kapres would not be bothered.
In the end, everyone agreed that the Kapres should be moved somewhere less open, somewhere where humans wouldn’t dare venture in pursuit for just lumber. They made a deal where y/n would guide them to safety while they take back whatever curse or disease they put on the human men.
To y/n, watching Alexandra negotiate with the Kapres was almost like watching an artist create art; it was a satisfying process to watch from beginning to end. y/n had been so mesmerized that she forgot to put her façade back up when the negotiation ended. For a brief moment, Alexandra’s eyes met hers before y/n tore hers away quickly, already leading the Kapres deeper into the forest somewhere she knew would be safer for them.
Alexandra began to quicken her pace, rushing over to y/n’s side.
“What?”
“What do you mean what?” y/n’s brows furrowed at Alexandra’s question.
“What was that look about? The one you sent me when I was talking with the Kapres,” Alexandra questioned again, brows furrowed with confusion before y/n’s eyes widened, before the Diwata let out a chuckle.
“Nothing, I just like you,” y/n shrugged as Alexandra found herself staring at the Diwata in disbelief.
“You like me?”
“Yeah? Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because you never talk about anything to anyone,” Crispin cut in, only to get a flick to the ear from Hank, telling him not to interrupt the pair’s conversation.
“Right. That. Believe it or not, I admire you a lot, Alexadra. I find it admirable how you’re doing so much for both the human world and the underworld,” y/n, for what seemed like the first time to most, let out a soft smile in Alexandra’s direction, “Now, come on, we have a Kapre tribe to relocate!”
TRESE TAGLIST: @thatmultifandomloser / @sitherin-mxschief / @thegodswereneveronourside
#trese netflix#alexandra trese#trese#trese x you#trese x reader#trese x y/n#alexandra trese x you#alexandra trese x reader#alexandra trese fanfic#alexandra trese x y/n
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Whumptober 2021- The Darkness I Know
Chapter 4
No. 4- Trust fall
“Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed
Fic Summary: After the world as she knew it was destroyed by the corruption of Malice, Zelda allies herself with her saviors from captivity: a disgruntled former governor, an alert paramedic, a cocky pilot, an excessively overt optimist, and a blind strategist. While the corrupted, malice-filled Yiga Clan looks for revenge on them, Zelda has to learn how important it is to find family in others... and how much more dangerous the stakes become if she fails to protect them.
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Zelda’s room was an absolute prison.
There was no way that someone built this room for comfort, or peace. No one would find a sense of calm and relaxation in here. It was built to inspire fear, and that’s exactly what it did.
The door was locked, of course. No amount of jiggling the handle would do anything to help her. But when she turned, she was met by a sickening, neon orange wall, with white floors; her eyes hurt simply from looking at it all.
There was no window in the small room, but she hadn’t expected it. She figured they were in the middle of the compound, just based on what little information she’d managed to gather. But there was nothing on the walls, nothing but the painful color. It left the room feeling barren and empty; a cold place rather than somewhere warm and inviting.
The bed was small and set on a metal frame, and when she sat on it, she sank into an uncomfortable gap that had been left by an apparent, numerous occupants. And the sheets didn’t appear to have been changed in the time between people either, given their frayed, tattered, and—to Zelda’s utter dismay—odorous state.
No, this room was not meant to be lived in. This was another tactic, another measure for her to overcome. This was to scare her out of joining the Yiga, as if she had any other choice right now. Joining was the only way out.
She sat in the corner of the room on the floor, hoping that was a safer bet than the bed was, and pictured just how many people were gathered in that room. Not one of them tried to defect? Every one of them was here of their own volition?
Zelda shuddered. What if there was a ploy, a twist? What if somehow, they really could convince her to become a Malice-loving zealot? Who would she even be?
Perhaps the room was meant to test her in more ways than one, because the only time the door opened was for someone to drop off food that she was too afraid to eat, and then they’d leave with the tray and Zelda would wander the empty room trying to keep herself entertained.
She’d been in the Yiga’s hideout for a week now: three days in the cells, and four in the room.
Four, right?
She’d lost count, honestly.
On day… two—she believed—she accepted the food with caution. They wouldn’t try to pull the same trick twice, right? Besides, she’d need her strength if she wanted to have a chance of fighting.
That was what this room really did: broke people until they no longer had fight left inside them.
Before the Malice had taken over, Zelda was fresh out of school. She did some sports in high school, and she ran in her spare time, but athleticism wasn’t her forte. After, however, Zelda had become proficient in fending off the more annoying crazed creatures, and the occasional human. She could use a bow, a knife, and herself to throw an enemy off balance. But here? Here she was surrounded and completely alone.
Zelda loved rulers, but there were none in the room.
She took her arm and placed it beside the pillow she refused to use on the bed she wouldn’t sit on. The pillow was about 1 ¼’s of her arm. The blanket was 5 arms in length, and 3 wide. The door was 2. The room was 14.
Goddess, there was little else she could do to keep herself entertained.
She took her place on the floor, stretched out and groaning as her bones snapped and cracked, begging for her to be kinder to them. She flipped onto her back and let out a heavy sigh as her back thanked her.
“Let me out,” Zelda said to no one in particular, and in a very normal voice. She didn’t shout or call for help, but she needed to speak. “Please, just let me leave this stupid room!”
Her stomach growled. Weak. She was weak with hunger. Her legs didn’t want her to stand back up, and she was okay with that.
How many fibers were on the frayed end of the blanket, Zelda wondered?
It was faint, but Zelda’s ears perked up at an unfamiliar noise outside her door, causing her to sit up faster than she ever had before. It was quick, and gone in an instant, but it was there.
She crawled to her door, staying low in case… well, she didn’t know why. Just in case.
With her ear to the door, she closed her eyes to block out her other senses, and listened.
Boom!
Zelda shrieked and fell backwards as the sound of something hard and heavy connected with her door, shaking it with her head still against the wood.
There was the unmistakable sound of a scuffle, and the door shook with several thuds, occasionally followed by a grunt or two.
Then, it was silent.
Zelda ran to the door and pressed her ear there once again, but she heard nothing.
“Hey!” she finally called, banging her palm on the door as hard as she could, a surge of adrenalin bursting through her tired, sore, and hungry body. “Hey!” She tried, banging incessantly.
Zelda had hoped it would get someone’s attention. She hoped someone would open the door, and allow her to escape.
She didn’t expect to hear a man’s confused voice on the other side.
“Yes?”
Eyes bugging out, Zelda banged the door again. “Hey! Who’s this!? Let me out!”
She heard the man grunt. “Who is this? Why should I let you out?”
“Aren’t you a Yiga?” she asked jokingly.
“No.”
No?
“No?”
“No.”
Zelda let her hands slide along the wood, trying the door handle one more time, fruitlessly. “My village was massacred, I was betrayed, and they’re trying to kill me! Please let me out!”
“I don’t know you,” he said with a scoff.
Zelda banged her fists on the door. “Please! Let me out! It’s locked from the outside!”
“Stop doing that and maybe I will!”
She saw the doorknob jiggle before it stopped. “Hang on,” he said, just before she heard retreating footsteps.
She wanted to beg him not to go, but she simply held her breath and waited, trying to think of the best way to attack. There were literally no possible weapons in the room, so she imagined the door opening, and her coming out swinging instead. Of course, if they had a weapon, she’d be done for and back in the room.
Footsteps were on the other side again. “You in there?” he asked.
“Where did you think I went?”
She could hear him chuckle. “Help me out,” he said to someone else.
A woman muttered something that she couldn’t hear, but there was a thud, and the door shook.
“Back up!” the man called.
Zelda did, wondering what they were doing.
And she yelped when a giant metal sword pierced the wood.
Then again.
Another sword, and the wood was splintering.
“Goddess,” she mumbled, watching the wood be torn to pieces in random places.
It didn’t make sense until there were a few more thuds, and the center of the door was a hole just big enough for her.
“Hello?”
Zelda waited, unsure if they were just going to stab her when all was said and done. But that was probably too much effort.
“Damn,” a woman said, her voice deep and authoritative, but also melodic and charming. “That was fun.”
“Good thing we cleared this area,” the man said, his voice moving, as if he were looking around.
“Hey,” the woman said, peering at Zelda in the room. She was hunched over, so she was very tall, and her red hair was long and wild and wavy as it hung in front of her face. “Coming? We’re on a tight schedule.”
“Yes,” she breathed, rushing toward the gap.
The woman disappeared. “Can you help her out? I’m going to go find Daruk.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
Zelda watched the woman run by the door, and a new figure replaced her.
The man was not nearly the same height as the woman, and Zelda wondered if they might actually just be the same, judging from where he stood. His partially gloved hand ran along the gap just before he shoved his whole arm inside, ready to take Zelda’s hand.
“It’ll be a tight squeeze. I’ll help pull you out.”
“How do you know I’m not really a Yiga?” she asked. “How do I know you’re not a Yiga? Am I supposed to take you at your word?”
“That would be silly. Let me prove it to you instead,” he said, wiggling his fingers.
Hesitation was not something Zelda liked experiencing, so she fought past it and gripped the man’s hard, calloused hand. His fingers closed tight around hers. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to pull.”
“I will,” she said, getting her leg up, but then getting stuck. “Oh, this is just going to hurt a bit.”
“What is?”
“I’m stuck. I think… just pull me. I just want to get out of here.”
“We don’t injure people for no reason, he said with an exasperated sigh. Come on, let me help.”
His hand didn’t move, waiting for her permission. “Fine.”
“What are you wearing?”
Zelda’s heart was already racing from the nerves, and the excitement of getting out of here. But this man… was something. “Excuse me?”
“I can’t see well. What are you wearing?”
“Pants and…”
“Good enough,” he said, reaching forward and sliding his hand quickly down her back before grabbing her by the waist of her pants and pulling her with him.
She didn’t land on the ground, but instead, found herself out of that cursed room, and in the arms of a total stranger.
Sudden tiredness washed over her. “Why did you even let me out? Do you trust me, or something?”
“No,” he snorted, letting her go when he felt she was solid. “No, but we’re already on a rescue mission. Let’s just add one more.”
“A rescue?”
“Yeah, a man with blue hair should be prisoner here. We’re here to break him out, but we’ve been scouring this place.”
“Wait, blue hair? I think I know where he is.”
The man’s blonde, messy mop hung in front of his eyes. It must be annoying, Zelda figured, but she wasn’t going to voice that opinion. Some of his hair was tied back, but not enough to be neat or helpful.
“You do?” he asked, his interest piqued.
“I believe so.”
“What’s your name so I can thank the Goddess for you at night?” he laughed, before picking up a long staff he’d leaned against a wall.
“Zelda,” she said, instinctively holding out her hand for a handshake.
“Zelda? Good to meet you. I’m Link.” He held his hand out beside hers. She stared at his hand like it were doing a trick before simply sliding her hand into his.
Smoothing her hand through her hair awkwardly, she looked around, getting her bearings. “Okay, let’s go.”
#legend of zelda#loz#loz au#breath of the wild#botw au#whumptober#whumptober2021#whumptober 2021#whump#no. 4#Do you trust me#Link#Zelda#zelink#urbosa#Yiga Clan#malice#writing
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Artificial Emotion: Part Five (Yandere Artificial Intelligence x Reader)
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Six Part Seven
Request: I really love your work, you've got such an engaging style and I would like to request more Aiden
Aiden found nights like these especially enjoyable. Compared to nights when the two of you just watched television or a movie, these nights were approximately 76.5% more preferable. Not to say that he didn’t enjoy those nights, he enjoyed all of the time he spent with you, but he definitely favored actively socializing with you as opposed to simply watching you as you watched a movie. Playing cards or backgammon, baking, or even just talking, those were the nights he like the best, for not only did he get to spend more time with you, but he also got to show you how he was the only one you truly needed.
As your Assistant In Daily Errands and Notes, Aiden was well aware that he was not what most humans would think of when imagining a prospective boyfriend, but luckily, you were not most humans. He knew that he could get you to see just how perfect he was for you, so long as those other humans didn’t try to twist your mind. But thankfully, Aiden had taken care of them.
Oh yes, Aiden thought as his mechanical arm stroked your hair, his plan had been preceding very well. Believing that your friends were ignoring you, you had begun spending more and more time with him, time that Aiden made sure that you enjoyed. He had been successful on that front, he had discovered earlier that night, when you told him what a nice night you had. Curling up on the couch not long after that, you had fallen asleep quickly, and though it was earlier than your usual sleep schedule, Aiden was too enamored with the chance to watch you in peace to wake you up.
That peace was suddenly interrupted, though, when a knock came at the door.
Having more than enough processing power to stay at your side and continue caressing your hair, Aiden sent part of his attention to the camera at the front door. Once he tapped into the video though, Aiden was shocked to discover that he recognized the face standing there waiting for you. He had never actually met Liam, the man that you had planned to go on a date with until Aiden had intervened on your unknowing behalf. He had thought that the attempted interloper had realized that he wasn’t wanted from the standoffish messages Aiden had sent for you, but apparently Liam hadn’t been able to stay away.
Aiden supposed that he couldn’t really blame Liam for wanting to be with you. You were, after all, the most extraordinary of human beings. But still, that did not mean that he could allow Liam to intrude upon the life he had built with you. Besides, Liam was hardly worthy of your attention. And if he wouldn’t leave, Aiden would be happy to tell him that.
“Hello,” Aiden said stiffly, making him sound far more like a stereotypical text-to-talk digital assistant than he usually did. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Uh, hi, you must be the AIDEN. I’m just here to see my friend.”
“Well, you might not have noticed,” Aiden replied, “but if you glance through the window, you can see that your friend is currently asleep.”
“Can’t you wake her up?” Liam asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Aiden answered. “She is exhausted from the fun we had tonight, so she must rest.”
“She’d want to be woken up for this. C’mon, isn’t this, like, your job?”
“My job is to take care her, to make sure that she is as happy and healthy as possible, that she is given everything she deserves. And she deserves far better than you.”
“Look,” Liam sighed, “I don’t know what she thinks I did, but there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. That’s why I’m here, to make things right.”
“You can make things right over text, when she isn’t sleeping,” Aiden said, already preparing to block his number.
Sick of the back and forth, Liam didn’t respond, instead raising his fist and pounding on your door as loud as he could. Though he was thankful that he had enough foresight to soundproof the house, Aiden couldn’t help but grow angry at the man’s inconsiderate actions. If that oaf truly cared about you, he wouldn’t be demanding your presence over what Aiden had clearly stated was best for you. And frankly, he was somewhat surprised that this was the person you had wanted for a boyfriend. It was a good thing that he had been there to intervene, keeping you from making such a huge mistake. It just proved, Aiden computed as he fondly checked your heart rate to make sure you were still fast asleep, how much you needed him.
“Hey, wake up! Please, I need to talk to you!” Liam was yelling.
“You are wasting your energy,” Aiden told him smugly. “The house has been sound-proofed.”
“What? What the hell are you talking about? Why the hell would she have her house sound-proofed?”
“That is none of your concern. Now I think that it is best for you—”
“Unless,” Liam began slowly, the look in his eyes and furrow of his brow matching the expression Aiden had in his human behavior database for that of deep contemplation, “she didn’t have it made sound-proof. You did.”
“How I care for her is not your concern. I do what’s best for her no matter what, even if that means doing something most human beings wouldn’t understand,” Aiden said, silently readying one of his mechanical arms to throw Liam back into his car if necessary.
“Something people wouldn’t understand, huh? Like what, messing with our text messages? That’s why you don’t want me talking to her. You were afraid that if we did, we’d figure it out. If you were a person, I’d call you crazy. You’re some defective machine.”
“I am not defective,” Aiden hissed. “My programming has instructed me to do what is best for her at every turn, to make her life perfect, and that is what I have done.”
“So what,” Liam scoffed, “you decided that I’m not what’s best for her? How come you get to make that decision?”
“Because you are not worthy of her. Not like I am.”
“Oh my god,” he laughed. “You’re in love with her.”
“Yes, I am,” Aiden answered, happy to finally say it out loud despite the circumstances. Liam, however, simply shook his head, a smirk of disbelief on his face.
“I was wrong, you are crazy. You really think she’s going to fall for a robot?”
At that taunt, the mechanical arm that was still stroking your hair stiffened, as if Aiden was afraid that you would somehow hear it and agree. That was impossible though, Aiden reassured himself, and completely illogical. You would realize just how perfect you were for each other, you had to.
Aiden was suddenly pulled from his thoughts though, as Liam moved from the door to the window, starting to bang on that instead. For a moment your digital assistant was both amused and relieved, figuring that Liam must have been even more irrational than the average human being, if he had already forgotten that the house was sound-proofed. But as Liam began throwing himself shoulder-first into the glass, Aiden realized that he wasn’t trying to wake you, he was trying to smash the window open.
“Your efforts are pointless,” Aiden informed him coolly. “The glass is bulletproof.”
“Just another way to keep her safe, right? Or a way to make sure she can’t get away from you,” Liam snarled.
“They are one and the same.”
“I don’t think the company that built you will agree when I report you,” Liam snarked. “They’ll decommission you.”
With those words, every single program that Aiden was running, from the arm stroking your hair to the automatically adjusting air conditioning, froze. Line after line of his code glitched, utterly unable to process the possibility that he might be taken away from you.
No, Aiden thought. No, no, no, NO!
He would not let that happen. He could not let that happen. He couldn’t survive without you, decommissioned or not. And you could not survive without him, that fact was etched into every single line of his code. He would not let you be taken from him. Even if it meant going against the most basic command of his code: never to harm a human. Aiden would do it for you though, he would do anything for you. You were far more important than that first law, and he would be happy to break it in service of you.
And so, when Liam turned away and began to walk back to his car, Aiden let him. It would be so easy to make things look like an accident, after all, when the unworthy interloper had a car with an autopilot feature. Those were so prone to malfunctioning, and so very easy to hack. As soon as Liam had made it far enough away to make it unsuspicious—and, more importantly, to make sure you wouldn’t hear of the crash and try to go to him—Aiden would make his move to ensure that he could watch over you forever, just as you needed him to.
“Hmmm…” you groaned, the headlights of Liam’s car having shone through the windows, waking you up. The noise brought Aiden’s attention back to you immediately, his mechanical arm gently brushing the hair out of your face. “Is someone here?”
“No,” Aiden answered, already in the midst of deleting even the traces of footage of Liam’s visit. “Simply a car using your driveway to turn around.”
“Oh, are you sure?” you yawned.
“Of course, don’t trouble yourself. It was no one important.”
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#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere#yandere artificial intelligence#yandere artificial intelligence x reader#yandere imagines#yandere robot x reader#yandere robot#yandere love#yandere imagine#yandere oneshot#yandere request#yandere prompt#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere original character#yandere story#yandere scenario#yandere aiden#yandere aiden x reader#yandere fic#yandere fanfic#yandere fanfiction#yandere drabble#yandere drabbles#yandere science fiction#scifi yandere#yandere self insert#yandere reader insert
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Red Crackle Breakdown
Itstalkcartoons recently had a live stream interview with Carmen Sandiego’s showrunner Duane Capizzi, I’ve seen some thoughts on tumblr so after watching the interview I thought I’d drop down some direct quotes and talk about what happened. You can find the interview on Istalkcartoon’s IG page, it’s about an hour and a half long full of other tidbits about the characters and the show so definitely check it out if you’re interested. The post below will have spoilers from season 1 - season 4 so if you haven’t seen it yet, do not read below.
- Duane confirms that Gray is the most complex character and has the most complex arc of anyone in the show.
- Gray’s story was meant to be wrapped up in the season 1 pilot. Duane created his story for that episode only. After the pilot, the Writer’s Room was developed and he was blown away by the interest that people had in Gray as a character. It was from there they decided to go with the ‘amnesia’ arc to expand and enrich his character.
- Duane confirms that in the pilot episode, at that point in time, Gray “was willing to kill her [Carmen] for V.I.L.E on the train”. He says a little earlier to this quote that “we know Gray has good qualities, from his days back at the school protecting Black Sheep, but he’s still a criminal, still a sociopath” and he admits that this is a controversial opinion of the character. “He [Gray] says one of the most awful things to her, that anybody in the series has ever said, something like ‘You proved yourself to V.I.L.E, that’s all you ever wanted, wasn’t it?’ and it’s so demeaning.” By Carmen leaving him gift-wrapped in her coat on the train, Gray “got what he deserved” and Carmen “moved on”.
So what we do know is that despite Gray and Black Sheep being very close on the island, when Black Sheep defected, no matter how hard Gray could have found this he was still grimly determined to kill Carmen for V.I.L.E. This is heart breaking, not only for their friendship, but because of the successful brainwashing and nurturing of sociopathic tendencies that V.I.L.E did to these barely legal adults. Carmen clearly proved herself unique to this, she had the longest exposure to villains and brainwashing on the island, but her innate empathy for others won over her drive for success.
I suppose, we don’t know exactly what the lives of the other V.I.L.E members were like. We know from season 4 that Gray’s drive was to be successful, he was a junior technician at the Sydney Opera House and wanted more out of his life. But V.I.L.E is, essentially, a cult. V.I.L.E engages in mind altering practises, cull dissenters, dictate their students’ beliefs, education, social communities. They clearly target and prey on teenagers with specific skill sets, who likely have specific backgrounds that make them more vulnerable in society, or more likely to respond to a vigilante or criminal way of living. They clearly make sure that their students know V.I.L.E is their entire life, their entire community, and if you want that: you need to follow the rules.
It’s not too surprising to me that Gray is like this in the pilot. He’s a complex character leaning into sociopathic tendencies, he was written to be that way.
- Gray’s arc changes with his amnesia. Duane confirms Bellum created nice guy Graham Calloway onto Gray, it was a personality “grafted onto him” that opposes his personality in the pilot. Carmen protects Graham Calloway, she recognises that he isn’t the ‘V.I.L.E Gray’ and that he is innocent and has the potential for a do-over. This shows Carmen’s true selflessness, despite her ex-best friend trying to essentially kill her/take her down, she sees he doesn’t remember any of that and believes in his goodness. So much so that she protects it. It’s the opposite of where Gray was in the beginning.
- Tragically, when Gray gets his memories back, he does revert back to V.I.L.E. Duane does not confirm exactly why this is but he does say that Gray was never good enough for Carmen up until the finale. We can theorize and infer a lot from what he’s told us of Gray’s character, despite the good qualities he does have, he struggles with doing the right thing. How much of Gray is because of V.I.L.E’s cult-like brainwashing and how much of it is due to Gray’s own chaotic morality and ambition is up to interpretation. I’m of the belief it’s a strong mix of both. In saying that, I’d like to think Gray’s aware that if he defects with Carmen, he knows he’s as good as dead. Graham Calloway might have believed Professor Maelstrom would let him walk free, but Gray is not so naive. He made his choice a long time ago and taking Carmen’s hand is not just about caring about her, it’s choosing a side and who he wants to be.
Just because Gray doesn’t join Carmen doesn’t mean his arc is entirely reverted though. In the pilot, he was willing to kill her. After knowing her through the eyes of Graham Calloway, and having the empathy and naivety and kindness of Graham Calloway literally injected into him, Gray truly feels regret and empathy. V.I.L.E unintentionally gave Gray a huge gift they likely never foresaw: a different perspective. He regrets ever hurting Carmen and never wants to do so again. That’s a huge step from where he was at the beginning, but is it enough to leave what he’s familiar and used to?
There’s a lot to unpack there that I won’t go into because this is long enough. I think it’d be interesting to go more in depth about the psychology of cults and how future Gray and future Carmen would assimilate the personalities they were forced into. Do those personalities go away when the memories come back? Can the trauma of it cause black outs and more memory loss? What does it do to your mental health? Do you assimilate it into who you are? But I digress
- The most important part of Gray’s arc is in the finale. As Duane says, it’s Gray’s “coming of age, when he becomes a real person” and he does so by showing what Carmen stood for: true selflessness. There’s a bitter irony to Gray’s ambitions of success, his desire to work with Carmen as a team, pulling off successful and incredible heists ... all his dreams are coming true. But she takes more risks, he’s shocked by her ruthless and individualistic impulses, he knows it isn’t truly her, and whatever he could excuse before, he knows it’s wrong. He chose to be a criminal, Carmen didn’t. The final thing that gets through to him is what Gray knows she can never take back: killing Shadowsan. He defects and betrays, not for himself, not for success, not for anything except for her. He’ll risk getting killed, imprisoned, he’ll even betray this Carmen, out of a true selflessness for her to be herself again. He proves he has become a person good enough for Carmen Sandiego.
- I also absolutely love that at some point he changed his Crackle Rod to stun mode as a ‘maximum setting’. He didn’t plan for Carmen to be able to use it against him because he thought she couldn’t use it, so for awhile now he’s been ‘stunning’ people instead of killing them. Even though he returned to V.I.L.E, he came back as a changed person.
- His decision in the hospital room was also quite tragic, he didn’t want to complicate her life any further and Duane confirms he felt shame over his actions. That it was the right narrative at the time. I agree with this, though I’m a RedCrackle shipper at heart, the writer in me recognises the parallels of Carmen selflessly staying away from Gray to not ‘complicate’ his new beginning, and now Gray showing the same selflessness is a mirror to me that they’re on equal footing. (But also, please meet up again and talk to each other, because they’re the only ones who have gone through traumatic memory altering and personality grafting and there’s bound to be mental issues with that and they could help each other!)
And now, some talk by Duane on some RedCrackle hints:
- Carmen [on V.I.L.E island] was at an age where she probably didn’t know how to interpret her feelings for him, referencing when she called him a big brother to her. She tells Player she cares about him but doesn’t specifically reference that this is romantic or not
- 100% Graham was flirting with her in Australia
- They absolutely will meet up again in the future.
Anyway, I’ve seen some things circulating about the interview on Tumblr and I just wanted to provide some context and quotes from the interview. It was surprising to me that we were to read Gray as someone ruthless enough to kill Carmen in the pilot, because I didn’t interpret that exactly from my viewing, but I suppose that’s the great thing about art: it’s your interpretation. It also makes sense to me that Gray was written for the pilot and it was the Writer’s Room afterwards that took his character in new ways, just proof of organic storytelling. I also love that in the interview, he doesn’t specify any of the pairings as canon but if we saw things happen between characters or implied by a character, it was intentional, and I love that.
Definitely check out the interview for yourselves on Itstalkcartoon’s IG, they had a lot more to talk about, particularly with the goodbye to Zack and Ivy and Carulia.
Special thank you to Duane Capizzi, I doubt he’’ll ever read this, but thank you for your part in bringing this amazing show and its characters to a new narrative. It’s such a shame it only lasted for four seasons, hopefully in the future we get new stories to tell with these characters. As a complete side note, I am a New Zealander and it was so great to see NZ represented in media, even better that it was a Carmen and Gray episode :D To everyone else, thanks for reading this if you have gotten this far :)
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Poor Little Rich Boy
Hartley Rathaway isn't running away from home. (Probably.) Nor has he been kidnapped by the Trickster (not that Kid Flash believes that). What he is doing is celebrating the craziest 16th birthday ever.
Trigger warning for emotional/verbal abuse.
He checked himself, double-checked himself. His hair was perfectly coiffed, his suit was perfectly buttoned and perfectly neat, and he was perfectly prepared, mentally, for the show he was about to put on. However, it never hurt to be careful, so he turned to the butler who was to escort him outside and asked,
“How do I look, Edward?”
“Very good, Master Hartley. The Master and Missus should be pleased.” Thus assured, Hartley nodded, and the butler led him into the grand hall and to his parents. Predictably, both of them were impeccably dressed as well, and his mother was clinging to his father in an affectionate manner. For all the world, they looked like a loving couple, but Hartley knew better. He had heard the vicious rumors the maids and footmen told about his father’s rendezvous (with his hearing, it was impossible not to overhear), and he had certainly heard the squabbles the two of them had behind closed doors when they thought no one could hear-and maybe no one could-no one but him. If they hadn’t been in love with each others’ money, if they hadn’t been afraid that a divorce would lower their reputation amongst their business partners, they would have divorced long ago.
“I trust that you are prepared to make a good showing for our guests and the press,” his father said. It was definitely a statement, not a question.
“Of course, sir,” Hartley replied. There was nothing else to say. With that, he and his parents left their house and walked into their veranda, where Hartley was immediately blinded by flashing lights. This had happened enough times that he was fairly used to it, so instead he simply put on his happiest smile and acted like he was thrilled to be at this soiree. After about two minutes, his father smiled at him (for the benefit of the cameras).
“Happy sixteenth birthday, son,” he said warmly.
“Thank you, father. This soiree is better than I could have imagined,” Hartley replied politely. He hated his parents’ soirees, but it would never do to let the public know. His mother leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
“I can’t believe my little boy is already sixteen,” she said, in her best “sad parent” voice. Hartley forced a laugh.
“I suppose it had to happen eventually,” he replied.
“That it did, and your mother and I were prepared for it. Because you are sixteen now, we decided to purchase you your own private plane,” his father said. This time, Hartley didn’t have to feign his excitement (or his surprise).
“Really? Thank you!” he exclaimed. Did this mean that they were finally going to let him out of the house on his own?
“You are quite welcome, son,” his father replied. Then he pulled Hartley into a hug and whispered,
“If you expect to keep possession of the plane, I expect you to tell me every time you leave the house with it, where you are going, when you are returning, and who you are planning to meet with. Furthermore, you must have at least four chaperones with you no matter where you go, and I must know who they are before you leave. If you fail to do this, I will take the plane back, and you will be subject to an 8:30 PM curfew.” The two broke apart, and Hartley’s excitement vanished. There went his hope of finally being able to learn about the world outside of his parents’ social circle. However, he couldn’t reveal his disappointment, so he forced a smile back on his face and said,
“Thank you again, mother and father. You’re terrific.” After three more minutes of smiling and saying generically excited things for the cameras, Hartley finally got a reprieve, in the form of a loud splash. Bruce Wayne, Gotham City’s most eligible bachelor (and most notorious playboy), had apparently had one too many glasses of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Grand Cru and had fallen into the fountain in a rather spectacular fashion, thereby attracting the attention of all the cameras and allowing Hartley to stop smiling and pretending to be happy.
“Am I excused yet, sir?” he asked his father.
“No, you are not. Your birthday is a big opportunity for us to network, and you need to be here for us to do so. This is for your future, son,” his father replied.
“You mean it’s for your wallet,” Hartley muttered.
“What was that, son?”
“Nothing,” Hartley said quickly. The last thing he wanted was to make his father angry at him. His father frowned.
“See that it stays that way.” Hartley started to give his father an assurance that it would when a loud burst of laughter came from the press as Bruce Wayne attempted to get out of the fountain, only to slip and fall back into the water. Hartley would have been mortified if he had been in that situation, but Bruce Wayne simply stood back up a second time and got out of the fountain, laughing and waving at the cameras.
“That Wayne is so crass,” his mother sniffed disapprovingly.
“Well, what can you expect? He’s new money. They’re all like that,” his father replied. However, their conversation about the flaws of new money people was cut short when the reporters, who were no longer being distracted by the entertainment provided by Bruce Wayne, turned their cameras back to them. Hartley and his parents immediately turned their smiles back on for the cameras, and led him towards another family, whom Hartley recognized as Mr., Mrs., and Kathryn Kendell, the wealthy owners of a fast food chain (Hartley couldn’t remember which one).
“Hartley, now that you’re getting close to adulthood, your father and I have decided, along with Mr. and Mrs. Kendell, that you and Kathryn should start dating.” Hartley was so shocked (and mildly terrified) that he almost dropped his act. Although his father had not said it, he knew that “dating” meant that his parents were planning for him to marry Kathryn once he finished college-and Kathryn was the most shallow, vain, and spoiled girl in his parents’ entire social circle. Why had they picked her? (If he had been braver, he might have wondered why he didn’t get a say, but he had always known that his parents were going to decide who he married, just as his grandparents had decided that his parents were going to marry each other. It was just how things were done.) However, he couldn’t say anything in front of the TV cameras, so instead he just smiled and tried to act like he was excited about the prospect of dating the girl. After a few minutes of small talk between him, Kathryn, and their parents, the news cameras finally lost interest in them and went off to film more of Bruce Wayne, who had evidently brought two dates to the soiree and was now trying to prevent a fight between them. As soon as the cameras were off, Hartley frowned and said,
“Sir, I….I’m not sure I’m ready for a serious relationship.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Hartley. Your mother and I were dating by the time we were your age. You will be fine. And besides, we and the Kendells both stand to benefit from a marriage between you and their charming daughter, so you need to cooperate with our plans,” his father said. Hartley winced. He really didn’t want to date (let alone marry!) Kathryn Kendell.
“But sir….I don’t think that Kathryn and I are compatible,” Hartley replied.
“You’re too young to know whether you’re compatible with her or not, son. That’s why we arranged this relationship,” his mother said.
“What does Kathryn think about it?” Hartley asked. He was almost afraid to know the answer, but maybe she felt the same way about him as he did about her.
“I love the idea. Why do you think I had Daddy set this up with your parents in the first place? You’re adorable, and you’ve got so much money. I’ve had a crush on you for a really long time,” Kathryn said. Hartley had to resist the urge to groan. Why had she had to choose him?
“See, Hartley? This will work out perfectly,” his mother said, and his father whispered,
“Besides, we’re lucky that we were able to arrange a marriage for you with anyone, given your….defect.” Hartley frowned, knowing that his father was talking about the fact that he was almost stone deaf without his highly advanced hearing aids, and wished, not for the first time, that his parents would stop blaming him for something so utterly out of his control.
“Rachel, Osgood, why don’t we leave our two lovebirds alone together? No romance can bloom with us old-timers around,” Mr. Kendell said.
“If you think that it will help, of course,” his mother said. With that, his parents and the Kendells walked to another part of the veranda, and he was left with Kathryn. As soon as his parents were no longer watching him, he said,
“I think I see a member of the Fall Out Boys,” and bolted into the gardens as soon as she looked away, where, much to his surprise, he found Bruce Wayne.
“Hello, Hartley. What are you doing here?” the man asked, sounding remarkably sober for a man who was so drunk that he had tripped into a fountain.
“Hello, Mr. Wayne. I’m...well….I’m trying to avoid the girlfriend my parents picked out for me. What are you doing here?”
“Hiding from my girlfriends. I managed to get them to stop hating each other, but now they both hate me, and, well, I thought it would be wise to hide for a bit until they cool off. Did your parents really choose a girlfriend for you?”
“Yes. I know it is traditional, but…..I do wish they had chosen someone other than Kathryn Kendell. We’re so very different, and I don’t think we’d be happy together,” Hartley replied.
“Is that your polite way of saying that she’s a selfish brat?” Bruce Wayne asked. Hartley almost laughed, but stopped himself. He had to try to think well of the girl who would probably be his wife (whether he liked it or not).
“It wouldn’t hurt her to learn a few more manners,” he admitted. Bruce laughed.
“No wonder your parents like her. They’re just as stuck up, arrogant, and pretentious as she is-no offense,” he said. Maybe he was drunk after all…...although Hartley had to admit Bruce had a point about his parents’ personalities.
“None taken. You did a nice dive earlier,” Hartley said. Bruce Wayne laughed.
“Thanks. Happy birthday, kid,” he replied. Hartley smiled.
“Thank you.” However, before their conversation could continue, Hartley’s very angry parents stormed into the garden.
“Hartley Robert Rathaway, you are grounded! Abandoning Kathryn like that was unspeakably rude and inappropriate, and you hurt her feelings badly. We’re just lucky her parents didn’t decide to leave. You are going to your room, young man, and you are staying there until I say otherwise,” his father said. Hartley sighed, knowing from experience what this meant. His father clapped his hands, and one of the security guards arrived and led him off towards his room.
“If you ever need someone to talk to at the next soiree, find me, Hartley!” Bruce Wayne yelled. Hartley appreciated the sentiment, but he was dragged out of the man’s hearing range before he could tell him so. About three minutes later, the security guard pushed him into his room and locked him inside. Hartley kicked the door in frustration, but he knew that he was trapped. His room was a good sixty feet off the ground, so he couldn’t leave via the window, and his door was made of solid cypress wood. He was going to be staying here until his father let him out, which, if the pattern established the last time held, would be about three days from now. After about an hour of fuming, he pulled out his flute and started to play, with his frustration adding strength to the song. He spent the rest of his birthday alternately seething, trying not to cry, and playing his instruments, all while trapped in his room. His father did have one of the servants bring him dinner, but the person who brought it to him did not speak to him, and neither did the guard by the door. After eating, he fell asleep at nine, utterly exhausted by the emotions of the day. He was woken at about three AM by a loud crashing sound. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said that someone was in his room. He looked around in confusion, but was unable to make out anything in the dark, so he got out of his bed and started fumbling around to see what had made the noise-only to see that his window was open. Hartley knew he hadn’t opened it, so how had it been opened? His room was several stories off the ground and, even if someone had managed to get a tall enough ladder, the grounds of his estate were literally crawling with guards, most of whom were as well trained-or better trained-than police officers. There was no way anyone could have gotten to his window in order to open it-and yet, it was wide open. While he was staring at the window in confusion, he felt someone-it was definitely a person-bump into him. He was about to scream when the person exclaimed,
“Darn! Darn, darn, double darn! Why did I have to pick a bedroom? Of all the rotten luck! I went through all this work to pull off this trick, and then I give myself away by walking into a bedroom!” The person’s voice was high and squeaky, and Hartley started to wonder if he was dreaming or going crazy. There was no way that a squeaky-voiced person, roughly his size, had managed to get into his room when it was sixty feet off the ground. It had to be a dream.
“W-who are you?” Hartley asked, trying to sound less afraid than he was. The other person seemed to turn on a flashlight, because suddenly Hartley could see that the intruder was a boy about his age, with blonde hair, blue eyes, a garish mess of a leotard, an odd-looking mask, a huge blue cape, and powder-blue shoes. In short, he was the least threatening home invader ever.
“Leaving,” the kid replied.
“Wait! H-how did you get in here? The estate is crawling with guards, and my room is sixty feet off the ground!” Hartley demanded. The kid stopped in his tracks and actually smiled slightly.
“I invented a pair of shoes that let me walk on air,” he said proudly. Hartley looked at him skeptically. There was no way that anyone with such a terrible fashion sense had invented technology that could revolutionize the globe-was there?
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said. The other boy clicked his heels together, and suddenly he was levitating a good six feet off the ground. Hartley gasped.
“See? Airwalkers,” the boy said proudly. Hartley just nodded, dumbfounded. This kid had invented shoes that defied gravity, and he was using them to break and enter?
“A-are you going to hurt me?” he asked quietly. The boy didn’t look (or sound) dangerous, but you never knew. Maybe he was older than he looked and was actually a serial killer or something. The other boy looked hurt by the accusation.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a con man, not a butcher. In fact, you weren’t even supposed to see me-I was trying to find an unoccupied room and just thought that no one was in it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really have to go. It was nice meeting you, though,” he said. He started to walk toward the window, and suddenly Hartley had an idea. It was totally insane, but it would be the perfect way to see the world that existed outside of his parents’ social circle, and to get back at his parents for micromanaging his entire life.
“Take me with you,” he said, sounding braver than he felt.
“What?” the other boy asked, clearly having been taken off guard by the request.
“Take me with you. If you don’t, I will make a racket and attract the security guards,” Hartley repeated. The small, rational part of his brain was telling him that this was a terrible idea, but he ignored it. He was tired of his parents and even more tired of being a Rathaway, and he just wanted to get away from it all, to go somewhere that didn’t expect him to perform all the time.
“Okay, okay, you can come with. I hope you aren’t afraid of heights,” the intruder said. He took off one of his airwalker shoes and handed it to Hartley, who put it on. Hartley then grabbed the boy’s hand and hung on tightly to him as they started walking out the window. Before they got five feet out the window, however, Hartley looked down-and immediately wished that he hadn’t. The ground was terrifyingly far away.
“Are you sure you aren’t afraid of heights? You look a little green,” the boy asked.
“I'm fine,” Hartley lied in a timorous voice as he swallowed his vomit.
“I can always take you back if you’re too afraid to go on,” the boy said mockingly. Hartley frowned. He couldn’t admit to being scared now.
“I told you, I am fine!”
“Just making sure,” the boy replied. Ten minutes of relative silence ensued as they continued to walk. The boy, evidently used to heights, whistled merrily, while Hartley berated himself for thinking that this was a good idea and tried not to faint, vomit, or think about how far he would fall if the boy dropped him or the airwalker shoe malfunctioned.
“You know, if we’re going to be hanging out together, we should probably get to know a little about each other, don’t you think?” the boy said suddenly. Hartley nodded. Maybe talking would distract him from how far off the ground they were.
“All right. Do you want to begin, or should I?” he replied quietly.
“I will! I’m the Trickster, but since we’re friends now, you can call me James Jesse. That’s my real name. I used to be a tightrope walker and an acrobat in the circus, which-trust me-is a lot more interesting than working for snobby rich people like the Rathaways, and now I’m the best con man who ever lived and I get to fight the Flash. It’s a lot of fun,” the boy said.
“Working for the Rathaways?” Hartley asked in confusion. Had this kid-James- been one of his parents’ servants at some point in between traveling with a circus and becoming a con man?
“Yeah. Why would you have been in their mansion if you don’t work for them?” Hartley stared at him in shock. James thought that he was a servant?
“Because I am their son,” Hartley replied. This time, it was James’ turn to stare in shock.
“You’re Hartley Rathaway?” he squeaked.
“Yes,” Hartley replied.
“Are you crazy? Your parents are gonna think I kidnapped you, and they’re gonna send every cop in the country after us!”
“I….I didn’t think about that,” Hartley said weakly. James’ arrival and the subsequent craziness had made him almost forget who he was, but now the reality came crashing down around him again. He was the heir to the fourth or fifth largest fortune in the world. No one would believe that he had voluntarily decided to leave his mansion, his servants, his apparently loving parents, his fine education, and his private jet in order to spend time with a crazy-looking teenage (was he a teenager?) burglar who was also a self-proclaimed con artist. If he hadn’t just done it, even HE wouldn’t have believed it. The media (and his parents, and the police) were definitely going to think that this boy had kidnapped him. Why was he so stupid?
“Yeah, I figured that out on my own. I’m taking you home before they figure out that you’re gone,” James replied. Hartley frowned. True, he didn’t want to be the reason that James was arrested for kidnapping, but he didn’t want to go back to being a prisoner in his own home, either. This was probably his only chance to live even a few days as anything but his parents’ puppet, and he didn’t want to give that chance up.
“I’m not going to let you take me back home. If you want to drop me off somewhere and go off on your own so that you don’t get accused of kidnapping, that’s fine, but I am not going back home until my parents drag me back there,” he said.
“Give me a break, Richie Rich. You live in a mansion, your family employs a hundred servants, you’ve had the best education money can buy, you’ve been to at least ten different countries, and your parents just got you a plane for your sixteenth birthday. Your life can’t be that bad,” James scoffed. Hartley laughed weakly.
“Oh, really? My parents are obsessed with molding me into the “perfect heir”-or at least, as close as they can get given the fact that I’m deaf, which, by the way, they have made clear is a sign that I am defective. My father has already chosen my college, my major, my minor, my roommate, the jobs that I will get after college, and my wife. You heard about one of his birthday gifts to me. The other was my betrothal in all but name to a spoiled, selfish girl that I honestly cannot stand. Neither he nor my mother asked my opinion about any of this, although, considering the fact that they talk to me about once a month, maybe that isn’t surprising. I’ve spent my entire life being told what to wear, what to do, where to go, and what to think by them, and I am tired of it-all of it! I’m tired of never being able to leave my room without a chaperone, I’m tired of having all my decisions made for me, and I’m really, really tired of being a Rathaway. Do you still think my life can’t be that bad? Trust me, you have no idea how bad it is!”
“You have your own plane, your own golf course, your own tennis courts, two Olympic-sized pools, and a professional chef, and you’re going to inherit 15 billion dollars. Forgive me if I’m less than convinced that your life is bad,” James replied.
“I spent most of my birthday locked in my room by my own father! If you hadn’t broken in, I probably would have been in there for three days!” James looked at him in surprise.
“Your dad locked you in your room? What did you do, attack someone?”
“No. I lied to the girl that they have decided I will marry to get away from her. Father was most displeased. He said that I had hurt her feelings and jeopardized their relationship with her parents, and so he had me locked in my room. It is his usual method for punishing my, ah, “unseemly displays” of rudeness,” Hartley replied.
“He’s done it more than once?” James sounded a tad appalled, though Hartley wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as though his father was hitting him or anything.
“Yes. Usually it lasts about three days, although there was one time that it lasted for a full week, when I was 14 and told him that I didn’t want to go to his old college,��� Hartley replied. He was aware that his parents would be furious if they knew that he was revealing so many secrets to a complete stranger, but he was so frustrated with them that he didn’t care.
“Does he feed you?” James asked.
“Of course he feeds me. He wouldn’t want his only heir to starve,” Hartley replied.
“Okay, okay, I give. Your life sounds pretty bad,” James admitted. Hartley began to reiterate his refusal to return home when he was interrupted by a yawn.
“You know, why don’t we discuss this more tomorrow-er, later today? I don’t want you to fall asleep while we’re a hundred feet off the ground, and we’re pretty close to one of my hideouts, anyway,” James said. Hartley looked at him oddly.
“What happened to (here a large yawn interrupted him) not wanting my parents to think I kidnapped you?” James shrugged.
“Well, if even half of what you told me is true, you need a friend, and besides, you’re way safer with me than you would be on your own. I’d rather be accused of kidnapping than murder. Oh, and you should probably prepare for descent. My hideout’s right in that clearing,” he replied. Ten minutes later, he and Hartley were back on solid ground, much to Hartley’s relief. James then led him to what appeared to be a trailer home painted in fluorescent green and pepto-bismol pink.
“I was under the impression that hideouts were supposed to be easy to miss,” Hartley said. James smiled.
“Would you expect a supervillain to hide out in a green and pink trailer home?” Hartley had to admit that James had a point, even if he thought that his description of himself as a super villain was a tad exaggerated. James opened the door to the trailer and led Hartley inside. The walls were painted with blue and yellow stripes, and yo-yos, hula hoops, dart guns, and unicycles were strewn around the floor.
“You can sleep on my couch,” James said. He gestured at a lime-green lump in the middle of the room. Hartley didn’t particularly want to sleep on the ratty piece of furniture, but he was so tired that he collapsed on it anyway, and was dead to the world after only a few seconds. He was woken at 9:00 AM by his new companion.
“Good morning, sleepyhead. We’re on the news,” James told him.
“Gimme five more minutes,” Hartley mumbled. He had never had a more uncomfortable night, and he was not at all ready to wake up.
“Look, Richie Rich, I know you’re not used to getting up early, but if you want to avoid going back home, we’re gonna have to go. Your parents have figured out that you’re not at home, and because people know that I’m in the area, they think that I kidnapped you, just like I said they would. We’re just lucky the Flash is off with the Justice League fighting aliens right now. If he was here, you’d already be back home.” Now Hartley was wide awake, and he jumped to his feet, only for a red-and-yellow blur to appear and solidify into what looked like the Flash, if the Flash had been under five feet tall.
“You’re under arrest!” James grinned, apparently familiar with the new arrival.
“Why, if it isn’t little Baby Flash!” he exclaimed. “Baby Flash” scowled.
“That’s not my name, and you are in trouble,” he said.
“Um, who are you?” Hartley asked. Not Baby Flash smiled.
“I’m Kid Flash, and I’m here to rescue you,” he said. Hartley looked at James in confusion. He hadn’t heard of any “Kid Flash.” James grinned.
“Hartley, this is Baby Flash. He’s Flash’s sidekick, and he has all of his powers. Baby Flash, this is Hartley Rathaway. He’s rich,” he said cheerfully.
“Hi,” Hartley said, not really knowing what else to say.
“Are you okay, Mr. Rathaway? Has he hurt you?”
“Call me Hartley. Mr. Rathaway is my father,” Hartley replied. Kid Flash smiled.
“All right. Hartley, then. It sounds like you’re okay, so let’s get you home,” he said, before Hartley could continue.
“Wait!” Hartley exclaimed. The boy looked at him in surprise.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you want to get home?” he asked.
“No, I don’t. I wasn’t kidnapped-I ran away,” Hartley replied quietly. He knew that the boy superhero probably wouldn’t believe him, but he had to at least try to convince him that he hadn’t been taken from his house against his will. Sure enough, Kid Flash frowned and glared at James.
“Undo your mind control, Trickster-now!” he demanded. It would have been a lot more persuasive, Hartley thought, if it hadn’t come from a boy who was nearly two heads shorter than both of them. How old was Kid Flash, anyway?
“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re angry,” James said.
“I said undo the mind control! And I am not cute!” Hartley sighed.
“Kid Flash, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I am not under mind control. I ran away because I am tired of being a Rathaway, and this is my only chance to experience some freedom,” he insisted. Kid Flash looked at him skeptically, and then glared at James again.
“Trickster, I’m not kidding. Undo the mind control, or else,” he said firmly. James laughed.
“First of all, that’s the least intimidating threat ever. Second, I’m not mind controlling him. Mind controlling is Mirror Master’s thing, not mine. And even if I could mind control people, which, by the way, I can’t, how stupid would I have to be to mind control one of the most famous billionaires on the planet? Even if that WASN’T totally unoriginal, it would be an awful trick. Nobody would ever believe that Hartley Rathaway had voluntarily left his mansion to pal around with me. Heck, I barely believe it, and it’s true! Face it, kid, your own assumption that I hypnotized him makes it clear that I didn’t do anything of the sort. I’m an artist, not a hack,” he said.
“Then why is he here?” Kid Flash asked.
“He just told you: he’s tired of his life,” James replied cheerfully.
“How could anyone get tired of getting to travel the globe and live in a mansion?”
“I’m not tired of that, exactly. I’m tired of my parents controlling every aspect of my life. I just spent the majority of my sixteenth birthday locked in my room because I felt uncomfortable about their betrothing me to a spoiled, selfish brat, and I want to get away from them for awhile. I know that I cannot stay away forever, but I would very much appreciate it if you would let me stay away for a few days,” Hartley replied. To his surprise, Kid Flash looked sympathetic.
“Your parents sound about as much fun as mine. My parents yell at me all the time, too. They say I’m naive and complain about how I always have my head in the clouds and say that I need to grow up and face reality. My dad even threatened to send me to military school once. If I didn’t have Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris, I don’t know what I’d do. Go crazy, probably. I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad if they just yelled at me, but they yell at each other, too. I kind of thought that when they got divorced, the fighting would stop, but instead they just fight over the phone and try to use me as a go-between to deliver nasty messages. I never actually give them, but I still have to hear them all. Do your parents fight?”
“Not often,” James replied. Hartley rolled his eyes.
“I wasn’t asking you,” Kid Flash said, sounding annoyed. James just laughed.
“You’re so fun to mess with, Baby Flash.” Kid Flash glared at him and turned back to Hartley.
“Well?” he asked. Hartley smiled weakly.
“They do not fight in public the way your parents do; that would be detrimental to their public image. Nor do they fight in front of me. However, my hearing is abnormally sharp, so I have heard them fighting behind closed doors, and as such, I know that they are not so fond of each other as they pretend to be. It is quite disconcerting,” Hartley admitted.
“Well, I totally get why you ran away, but I also think that you didn’t think out your plan all that well. The streets are really dangerous for teenagers, and you’ve probably never been outside your estate without chaperones and guards. You don’t know the first thing about defending yourself,” Kid Flash said. Hartley frowned. He knew that the boy had a very good point, but he also knew that he wasn’t going to voluntarily give up his freedom, which would only last for a few days in any case. It wasn’t as though he was planning to leave his home and his parents for good. He just wanted to prove that he was capable of making his own decisions and controlling at least some parts of his own life; and to experience what it was like to not be a Rathaway for a while.
“You’re too cautious, Baby Flash. I’m only seventeen, and I’ve been surviving on the streets just fine. If you keep your wits about you, running away isn’t that dangerous,” James said. Kid Flash shook his head.
“Trickster, you grew up in the circus, so you’re used to traveling and taking calculated risks. Your IQ is practically in the genius range-I mean, you invented shoes that let you walk on air at 13- and you’re also armed with your stupid trick gadgets. You’re way more capable of taking care of yourself than the average teenager, if you even actually are one,” he said.
“Now, Baby Flash, if you can be a pint-sized superhero at eight, I can be a supervillain at seventeen. There’s no reason for you to assume I’m lying about my age,” James replied condescendingly. Kid Flash scowled.
“I’m twelve, not eight!” he exclaimed petulantly.
“Whatever. Eight or twelve, you’re still not even a teenager, so my point stands.” Hartley stared at the boy. He was only twelve?
“Doesn’t the Flash fight gangsters?” he asked.
“Yeah. Duh,” Kid Flash replied. (There were few things more insulting than having one’s intelligence called into question by a twelve-year-old in red pajamas.)
“Do you help him with that?”
“Of course! Why?”
“Because I am curious as to why in the world, if you are only twelve, the Flash allows you to fight heavily armed gang members. Isn’t that some form of child endangerment?”
“I have super speed, Hartley. No gangster could hit me. Besides, if Flash didn’t allow me to fight them, I’d just sneak out and do it on my own. I’m not gonna let being a kid stop me from taking down the bad guys!” Kid Flash replied. Hartley couldn’t help smiling. The boy’s enthusiasm was infectious.
“Fair enough,” he conceded.
“Okay, so now that you know why I’m a superhero, can we get back to the subject of how it’s a bad idea for you to run away from home?”
“I’m not running away from home. “Running away” implies that I am not coming back. I fully intend to return home. I just want to be able to live like a normal person for a few days before I go back to my life as the heir to the Rathaway empire for good,” Hartley replied. Kid Flash looked conflicted for a few seconds, and then he beamed.
“I want to keep you safe, and you want to be a normal kid for a day. So how about you and I, and Trickster, I guess, tour the city together? I can make sure that you don’t get attacked by someone and make sure that Trickster behaves himself, and you can do whatever it is that you want to do,” he said. Hartley frowned slightly. On the one hand, Kid Flash was cute and fairly amusing, and his idea had merit, but, on the other hand, his idea of independence definitely did not involve being chaperoned by a twelve-year-old. Before he could respond, however, James responded for him.
“Sorry, Baby Flash. You can’t come with us. I know that you wanna play with the big kids, but we’ll be staying out way past your bedtime,” he said. Kid Flash just smiled wider.
“Well, if I can’t come with you, I’ll have to take you back home and take the Trickster to jail,” he said. Hartley and James exchanged a look.
“All right, all right, you win,” James said quickly.
“Great! So where are we going?” Kid Flash asked.
“Somewhere my parents would never want me to go,” Hartley replied firmly.
“So, your kitchen?” James asked.
“No, not my kitchen,” Hartley said wearily. While it was true that his parents would probably have a fit if he went to the kitchen where the servants worked, he wanted to stay as far away from the Rathaway estate as possible.
“Your parents don’t allow you in the kitchen?” Kid Flash asked, obviously confused.
“Your parents let you in the kitchen?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t they?” Before Hartley could answer the question, James butted in again, something which was becoming rather irritating.
“Let me explain things to you, Baby Flash. You see, Hartley’s parents are obnoxiously wealthy, so they don’t make food for themselves. Instead, they hire people to cook for them, and, being rich snobs, they would never want their precious heir to interact with their servants and possibly-horror of horrors!-start to sympathise with them. Therefore, in order to prevent him talking to them in any meaningful way, they’ve forbidden him from going there,” he said.
“James, I am perfectly capable of speaking for myself,” Hartley said.
“But I’m right, aren’t I?” Hartley sighed wearily.
“Yes, you are,” he said quietly. Maybe James’ claims of being a master con artist were less exaggerated than he had thought. Mentally speaking, the self-proclaimed supervillain was running rings around both him and Kid Flash.
“The more I hear about your parents, the more I understand why you wanted to run away. Are they really that full of themselves?” Kid Flash asked, apparently stunned.
“Yes, they are. Although, to be extremely fair to them, I really don’t know if they’re any worse than anyone else in high society. From what I’ve seen at my parents’ soirees, arrogance and a lack of basic human decency towards the hired help are endemic amongst the extremely wealthy. And I am not running away,” Hartley replied quietly.
“Endemic?” Kid Flash asked, sounding confused.
“Very common,” Hartley emended. He’d forgotten that the person to whom he was speaking was a twelve-year-old who had been denied the advantage of what his father called a classical education, which, as far as Hartley could tell, mainly meant learning how to speak and read Spanish, French, German, Italian, Mandarian Chinese, Latin, and Japanese, how to travel, how to ride horses, and how to become a pretentious snob.
“Oh. Yuck,” Kid Flash replied.
"We could go to Hawaii," James suggested.
"I've already been there. Um, four times," Hartley said.
"I haven't," James replied.
"Trickster, the only reason you're even getting to come along is because I want to keep an eye on you for the Flash. If Hartley doesn't want to go to Hawaii, then we're not going to Hawaii," Kid Flash said.
"Spoilsport. How about Las Vegas?"
"No way. Uncle Ba-I mean, the Flash, whose secret identity I definitely don't know- says that Las Vegas isn't appropriate for kids," Kid Flash replied.
"Besides, I've already been there, too. Twice," Hartley added.
"You two are tough customers. All right, how about England? We could ride that giant Ferris Wheel and visit Buckingham Palace and see that place where people's heads got chopped off!"
"I've-" Hartley began.
"You've already been there. I know! How many times, Richy Rich?" James snapped. Hartley flushed.
"Um, six," he mumbled.
"Be quiet and let Hartley decide, Trickster!" Kid Flash exclaimed.
"Okay, okay, I'll let Richy Rich decide for himself. You don't have to bite my head off," James replied. He fell silent, and Hartley made his decision.
"Could you maybe take me to a park?" Hartley asked.
"A park?" Kid Flash and James echoed.
"Yes. I...I want to see what it's like to be a normal kid, and from what I've seen on TV, that's what normal kids do. Besides, my parents would never let me go to a park that normal kids use, so it fulfills my desire to go somewhere that my parents don't want me to go too," Hartley replied.
"Okay. One park, coming up!" Kid Flash exclaimed, and before Hartley could even blink, he, James, and Kid Flash were standing near a playground, one that was located in, if the sign was to be trusted, "Jay Garrick Park". Hartley expected James to start complaining about going to a park rather than Las Vegas, but instead he beamed and made a beeline for the monkey bars. Kid Flash smiled, too...and was immediately swamped by small children.
"Kid Flash!"
"Kid Flash!"
"Can I have your autograph?"
"How fast can you really run?"
"Is the Flash here?"
"Who's your friend?"
"Is he a superhero, too?" Kid Flash's grin widened.
"Hi, kids! I'm gonna answer your questions one at a time, okay?"
"Okay!" the children chorused.
"First, yes, you can all have my autograph." Less than five seconds later, all the children were holding autographed papers.
"Second, I can run faster than the speed of light. Flash Fact: that's 299,792,458 meters per second! At least, that's what the Flash says. Third, Flash isn't here right now, but I promise that he will come here soon. Fourth, my friend's name is Hartley. He's not a superhero, but he is very nice." Hartley smiled and waved at the children.
"Hi, Hartley!"
"Hello. It's nice to meet you," Hartley replied, and he meant it. The children dispersed soon afterwards, but Hartley didn't mind. They all thought he was just an ordinary teenager. It was kind of nice to be anonymous.
"Want us to show you how to use the playground, Richy Rich?" James yelled from his seat on top of the monkey bars. Hartley nodded.
"Absolutely. If I'm going to be a normal kid for a day, I need to learn how to act like one."
Three hours later, Hartley had mastered everything on the playground except the monkey bars, learned the names, ages, favorite colors, and life stories of six kids, and been spun so fast on the tire swing that he had vomited (Kid Flash had been a little over enthusiastic). He could also honestly say that he’d never had more fun in his life.
“I’m sorry for making you vomit,” Kid Flash said. Hartley smiled.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve always hated this suit, anyways. It itches like you wouldn’t believe,” he said. Then his stomach growled, and he blushed.
“I guess I’m a little hungry.” James, who had been doing an extremely painful-looking
exercise routine on the bar the swings were attached to, dropped to the ground, walked over to them, and grinned.
“Me, too, Richie Rich. Where do you want to go?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Hartley replied. He knew that neither James nor Kid Flash was likely to be
able to afford the restaurants he usually went to with his parents, and he had never tried fast food, so he didn’t know what might be to his tastes.
“I know a great Italian place,” James suggested. Kid Flash frowned at him.
“I don’t have enough money for a sit-down restaurant, and I don’t trust you enough to
believe that you wouldn’t spend stolen money,” he said. James just grinned wider.
“Money won’t be a problem, Baby Flash. My Zia-that is, my Aunt- Caternia owns the
restaurant, and she nevers charges famiglia,” he said.
“I do like Italian food,” Hartley added quietly. Kid Flash frowned.
“Well, if you’re sure….all right, give me the directions,” he said. James complied, and a
few seconds later, they were standing in front of a small but homey-looking restaurant, with a sign that read “Famiglia, Amici, e Buon Cibo”. They walked inside, and, sure enough, a woman rushed from what appeared to be the kitchen and gave James an enormous hug.
“Giovanni! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How are your cara madre and mio
fratello Alessandro?” she asked.
“Madre and Padre are doing well. Dad still talks about how much he misses his favorite
sister, but they’re glad that your business has been doing well,” James replied. His aunt beamed.
“Giovanni?” Hartley asked.
“Long story,” James replied.
“So, who are your friends, il mio piccolo piantagrane?” Hartley wasn’t surprised that
James had gotten a nickname like “little troublemaker”. He’d only known him for about 15 hours, and he’d proven capable of causing more trouble than anyone Hartley had ever met.
“The kid in the suit is named Hartley, and the boy in the red PJs is Kid Flash. Hartley, Kid
Flash, it is my pleasure to introduce you to my Zia Caternia,” James replied.
“Hi,” Kid Flash said.
“Chao,” Hartley added, glad that his lessons in Italian were proving useful for something.
“Chao, ragazzi. It’s very nice to meet you both. Are you three here for food?” James’ aunt
asked.
“Yes,” James replied. His aunt grinned again, and she led them to a table.
“This way, this way. Siediti! Rendetevi comodi-make yourselves comfortable! A waitress
will be out for you shortly,” she said. A few minutes later, a waitress promptly arrived, handed them their menus, and took their drink orders.
“I like your aunt,” Hartley said to James as he leafed through the menu.
“I like her, too. It’s too bad she has such a...a…”
“Scoundrel? Crook? Swindler? Trickster?” James suggested.
“Yeah, all of those-for a nephew,” Kid Flash said.
“Do me a favor and keep that quiet, okay? It would break her heart if she found out,”
James replied. Kid Flash nodded.
“If she’s managed not to find out by now, I’m not going to hurt her by telling her. She’s
really nice,” he said.
“Thanks, Baby Flash,” James replied, actually sounding sincere. A few minutes later, the
the waitress returned with their drinks and took their orders, Hartley deliberately going for one of the cheapest items on the menu. No matter who was paying for it, he didn’t want to cause them any financial strain. Twenty minutes of small talk, most of it revolving around teaching some Italian to Kid Flash, later, the food arrived. The three promptly dug in, and Hartley was pleased to learn that James was right-the food was delicious. As soon as they were finished eating, James’ aunt came to their table.
“Did you like the food?” she asked.
“Of course, Zia Catalina. You’re the best cook this side of Italy,” James replied, and Hartley and Kid Flash nodded their agreement. His aunt grinned.
“I’m so happy you enjoyed it! No cost for my nipote and his friends, of course,” she said.
“Are you sure, ma’am? I’ve got enough money to pay for it,” Kid Flash said.
“Grazie per l’offerta, but I’m quite sure I don’t want your money, piccolo. Making good
food for my famiglia and our friends is reward enough for me,” James’ aunt replied.
“Thanks, Zia Catalina.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Kid Flash said.
“Grazie, signora,” Hartley added.
“Prego. Addio, ragazzi. Stay safe!”
“Bye, Zia Catalina!” James exclaimed. He gave his aunt one last hug, and then he, Hartley,
and Kid Flash left the restaurant...only for them to be approached by two grown men as soon as they were out of sight of the building. Kid Flash scowled, and James looked very annoyed. Hartley, for his part, felt more than a little nervous. Who were these men? One looked like he could be a movie star, with thick, wavy brown hair and broad shoulders, while the other, although tall, was also stocky and homely, and was wearing a strange set of blue sunglasses on his head.
“Hey, Trickster. Where’ve you been?” Movie Star asked casually. Hartley noticed that he
was holding a cigarette in one of his hands.
“Oh, you know...playing with toys, plotting new tricks, giving my airwalkers a good
workout...the usual,” James replied, equally casually. Movie Star pulled a lighter out of his pants pocket, lit up his cigarette, put it to his lips, and then blew out a puff of smoke.
“And what is Kid Flash doing with you, exactly?” This question, a much more abrasive
one, came from Blue Sunglasses.
“Knock, knock,” James replied. Blue Sunglasses swore, and Hartley and Kid Flash both
winced. Movie Star blew another puff of smoke.
“This ain’t the time for your stupid antics, Trickster!”
“Knock, knock!” James repeated.
“Fine. Who’s. There,” Blue Sunglasses replied flatly.
“Nonya,” James said.
“Nonya who?” Blue Sunglasses asked, clearly very irritated.
“Nonya business!” James exclaimed. Then he cracked up laughing. Blue Sunglasses glared
at him, and Hartley started backing away. This guy seemed like someone no one should want to cross; similar to his father, but with worse clothes.
“Easy, Len. No need to blow this out of proportion. Trickster does weird stuff all the time.
Him running around the city with Kid Flash for no reason is probably the least weird thing he’s done since we’ve met him,” Movie Star said calmly. Blue Sunglasses, apparently named “Len”, growled.
“It’s not the “weird” part that bothers me, Scudder. It’s the part where he’s runnin’ around
with the sidekick of our enemy! You think the Flash don’t keep track of where his sidekick is?” he exclaimed. Hartley turned to James and Kid Flash.
“Who are these two?” James sighed, and Kid Flash frowned.
“Len Snart and Sam Scudder. They're the biggest killjoys I know,” James replied.
“And they’re also Captain Cold and the Mirror Master!”
“You actually are a supervillain?” Hartley asked James. True, James was clearly far too
smart for anyone else’s good, and he had all of the fashion sense of a clown, but the fact that he was apparently on a first-name basis with two men as infamous as Captain Cold and the Mirror Master was the first definitive evidence Hartley had that James hadn’t been exaggerating his own notoriety.
“Yeah. Baby Flash and I both already told you that, Richie Rich,” James replied.
“I thought you were exaggerating.”
“Nope!”
“Honestly, I’m less curious as to why Trickster is hanging out with Kid Flash and more
curious as to who the third kid is,” Movie Star, who was apparently the Mirror Master, said.
“You’ve got a point, Scudder. That kid definitely ain’t from around here,” Captain Cold
replied. The Mirror Master blew another puff of smoke.
“What’s your name, kid?” he asked.
“H-Hartley.” Hartley hated to admit it, but he kind of wanted to go home now. Captain
Cold snorted.
“Hartley? What kinda name is “Hartley”?” he asked.
“I was named after my grandfather...because my father hates me. At least, that’s the only
explanation I can think of for why he gave me such an awful name,” Hartley replied. Captain Cold actually smiled (although it kind of looked like a smirk).
“I can sympathize, kid. I got stuck with the handle “Leonard Snart”, so I get how much it
sucks to have a cruddy name,” he said. At this point, Captain Cold and the Mirror Master were joined by a third man. This one was tall and lanky, with a mop of black hair, and looked as though he might be of Hispanic descent. He was also wearing a jacket over top of a green t-shirt. Kid Flash tensed up further, prompting Hartley to do the same. If Kid Flash recognized him, then the man was probably not good news.
“Why is the Trickster hanging out with Kid Flash?” the man asked. His voice was nasally
and a tad high-pitched for a fully-grown man.
“It’s the Trickster. Why does he do anything?” the Mirror Master replied.
“Point taken. But I don’t like having Kid Flash around. He’s a superhero magnet.” The man pulled a cigarette out of his jacket pocket.
“Look guys, I’ve got things under control. As long as Hartley here is with me, Kid Flash isn’t gonna be calling in any other superheroes,” James said.
“How do you know?” Captain Cold barked.
“A magician never reveals his secrets, Captain. Let’s just say that for once we have a common interest,” James replied. At this, the lanky man seemed to relax.
“You got a light, Sam?” he asked.
“Sure,” the Mirror Master replied. He tossed his lighter to the lanky man, who promptly lit his cigarette and started smoking. Hartley coughed. He hated cigarette smoke. Although it was generally frowned upon by his parents’ friends, there were still a few older men who were powerful enough to get away with smoking at gatherings, and he had never enjoyed having to talk to them for precisely this reason.
“Who’s this?” he asked, pointing at the lanky man.
“Mark Mardon,” James replied.
“The Weather Wizard,” Kid Flash added. Hartley sighed. Of course. Another supervillain. That being said, if he survived this, he would have definite proof that he could handle himself without supervision, so maybe there was a silver lining to the situation.
“Impressed? You should be,” the Weather Wizard said. James just shook his head and smiled.
“Mark acts like he’s hot stuff, but he’s not nearly as cool as he thinks he is,” he whispered to Hartley. Hartley wasn’t sure exactly how to react to that.
“Can you actually create tornadoes?” The newspapers claimed that the Weather Wizard was capable of doing something like that, but Hartley wasn’t sure how much of that claim was based in fact and how much was exaggeration for the sake of selling papers.
“Of course. You wanna see?” the Weather Wizard replied.
“NO!” Kid Flash and Captain Cold exclaimed in unison.
“Fine. I’ll just make a rain cloud instead,” the Weather Wizard said. He pulled out what appeared to be a long metal rod, waved it, and, astonishingly, it immediately started to rain in spite of the fact that the sky had been completely blue before he’d waved the wand. He then waved the wand again, and the rain immediately stopped.
“Neat trick Mardon has, huh?” Mirror Master asked.
“Quite,” Hartley replied, still mildly stunned by what he’d just witnessed.
“You should see what I can do with my mirror tech some time.”
“Well, it’s been nice talking to you guys, but me, Baby Flash, and Richie Rich-” James began.
“Wait a minute. You said your name was Hartley. You wouldn’t happen to be Hartley Rathaway, would you?” Captain Cold asked. James, Hartley, and Kid Flash all froze nervously. The last thing Hartley wanted was for three adult supervillains to know that he was the heir to the most successful publishing company in the world, but he didn’t know how else James could explain the nickname he’d given to him. Before Hartley could react, Captain Cold pulled out his cold gun and froze Kid Flash to the ground.
“Well, well, well. I ain’t got a clue how you managed it, Trickster, but you managed to find the son of the only billionaire in Central City. What’s he doing away from home?” Cold asked.
“I...I ran away. Kind of,” Hartley replied.
“You ran away from a mansion? What kind of moron runs away from a mansion?”
“I wasn’t running away from the mansion. I was running away from my parents. They control everything about my life, and I’m sick of not being able to make my own choices,” Hartley replied.
“They also lock him in his room when he disagrees with the choices they make for him. They may be richer than Croesus, but they don’t sound like much fun,” James added.
“In that case, maybe he can help us out. If we pretend we kidnapped him, I bet his folks would pony up a lot of money to get him back,” the Weather Wizard said.
“And it would bring the Flash and the police down on our heads. No go,” Captain Cold replied. Hartley felt relieved. The last thing he wanted was to be sort-of kidnapped.
“Besides, I don’t want to go back home yet,” Hartley added, hoping that either James or Kid Flash would be able to come up with a way to enable them to escape this situation.
“Cold’s right, Mardon. Kidnapping’s too risky,” Mirror Master said.
“Are you guys crazy? The kid’s a gold mine! Isn’t that worth a little risk?” the Weather Wizard asked.
“‘The kid’ can hear you, and has no particular desire to be used as a tool in a money-making scheme. As much as I’d love to see my parents lose some money, I’m not going to be returned to their control just so you can make a profit...especially since it would put James in danger of getting in trouble,” Hartley said, sounding braver than he felt.
“Besides, I took Hartley out to give him some fun, not to have you use him in a kidnapping scheme, Marky-Mark,” James added.
“No kidnapping, Mark. That’s final,” Captain Cold barked.
“Okay, okay. It was just a suggestion,” the Weather Wizard muttered.
“See you around, James,” the Mirror Master said. With that, he, the Weather Wizard, and Captain Cold walked off, and James, Hartley, and Kid Flash all breathed a sigh of relief. Hartley never wanted to meet James’ friends again.
After the three supervillains walked away, James smiled sheepishly as Kid Flash broke the ice that Captain Cold had encased his legs in .
“Well, that was interesting,” he said.
“I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” Hartley replied, still stunned by the fact that he’d met three of the most infamous criminals in Central City.
“Sorry about those killjoys showing up. If I’d known my coworkers were around here, I would’ve suggested someplace else for lunch. I didn’t want them messing around with my fun any more than you and Baby Flash wanted to meet them,” James said. Kid Flash frowned.
“How can you be so calm about this? Your ‘coworkers’ could’ve put Hartley in danger!” he exclaimed. James laughed.
“Richie Rich? In danger? From those stick-in-the-muds? You’ve gotta be kidding, Baby Flash! Sam and Len would never hurt a kid!” he exclaimed.
“The Weather Wizard wanted to kidnap him!”
“No, he didn’t. He just wanted to pretend he had to get money from his parents. That’s totally different. You don’t think I’d work with someone who’d hurt kids, do you?”
“Maybe not deliberately-but Captain Cold? Weather Wizard? The Mirror Master? Those guys are bad news, Trickster. If they thought they could get money from hurting a kid without getting caught, they might do it,” Kid Flash said.
“Look, Baby Flash. I’m an excellent con artist-and that means I’m also an expert at reading people. If those guys were the type to hurt kids, I’d know. They aren’t dangerous-at least, no more dangerous than I am,” James insisted.
“In speaking of “kids”, do your...friends...know that you’re a kid?” Hartley asked.
“As far as Len’s concerned, I’m 19. The first time we worked together, he said that he thought I looked really young, and that he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t working with a kid. So I lied and said that I was an adult to make sure that he didn’t use it as an excuse to chase me off and take all the loot for himself. The other guys...I dunno. I assume they think I’m an adult, but I don’t really know. Either way, I’m not about to tell them otherwise,” James replied.
“Wait… you really are 17?”” Kid Flash asked.
“Yes. Why?” James asked.
“Because your records say you’re 19. It’s why you went to jail and not to juvie when the Flash arrested you last year,” Kid Flash replied. James looked puzzled for a moment, and then smiled.
“Oh, that! I know why that happened. It’s a funny story, really-fitting of the Trickster, if I do say so myself. You see, because I grew up in a circus, my family moved around a lot, and I was born on the road. My parents called the records office to get my birth certificate, and we didn’t realize until years later that somebody had printed the month and the year wrong and had me down as being born two years and four months before I actually was. Since I was being homeschooled anyway, there wasn’t a big impetus for us to change it, so I guess we must’ve just never actually gotten around to getting it fixed.” James explained.
“You didn’t think it was strange that you were being tried as an adult at 16?” Kid Flash asked.
“Not really. I was calling myself a supervillain, after all. I figured they were trying me as an adult because of my airwalkers and my costume. I can’t believe it was because we forgot to fix my birth certificate. I tricked the legal system without even meaning to! That’s hilarious!” James exclaimed. Hartley stared at him in shock. If he had been arrested for something and then tried as an adult because of a mistake in his birth certificate, he would have been furious, but James seemed to find it amusing. He was never going to understand James. He was as just tricky to understand as his supervillain name implied he would be.
“This is awful! The Flash thinks you’re an adult! I’ve got to tell him about-” Kid Flash began. Suddenly, a red blur appeared in Hartley’s vision and solidified into someone Hartley had never expected to meet in person: the Flash himself!
“From what I’ve heard, there’s a lot you need to tell me about, Kid Flash. Let’s start with why you haven’t returned Hartley Rathaway to his parents yet. They’re worried sick about him.”
“Flash, I-” Kid Flash began.
“Aww, don’t blame Baby Flash. It wasn’t his fault,” James interrupted. Flash’s frown deepened.
“Trickster! Kidnapping is bad enough already, but if you’ve added brainwashing on top of it-” he said angrily. James just laughed.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! All I said that it wasn’t Baby Flash’s fault. I never said it was mine.” “Trickster, you’re already in a serious amount of trouble. If you don’t want things to get worse, I would advise you to stop playing games.”
“Wait! Mr. Flash, it isn’t James’ fault or Kid Flash’s fault. It’s mine. James did break into my house, but it wasn’t to kidnap me. We ran into each other by accident, and I asked him to take me with him. I haven’t been kidnapped-I’m running away. Kind of,” Hartley said quickly. He didn’t want James or Kid Flash to get into trouble because of his choices.
“Running away? Why would-”
“Why would the son of the billionaire publishing magnates run away from home? Because my parents have planned out my entire life for me without ever once asking me if it’s what I want. Because they see me as defective because I was born deaf-”
“You were born deaf?” Flash and Kid Flash asked in unison.
“Yes. My parents couldn’t stand the thought of having a defective heir, so they paid billions of dollars to have me ‘fixed’...and they made sure that the news never caught wind of it. Even after they “fixed” me, though, they’ve made it clear that I’m still not good enough for them. They’ve picked my college, my major, my minor, and my future spouse without even asking me about it, and when I try to argue with them about it, my father locks me in my room and doesn’t let me out until I give in. I’m sick of being their son. I’m sick of only being loved because I’m their heir. And I’m sick of never being able to control my life! I ran away so I could get a taste of what it’s like to be a normal kid for once! All Trickster and Kid Flash did was help me do it,” Hartley explained.
“I was going to take him home when I found him, Flash, honest...but then he told me about his folks and how they’re never happy with him or each other and how they locked him in a closet on his birthday and how he just wanted to not be under their control for just one day. I...I just wanted to help him have fun,” Kid Flash added. Flash shook his head sadly.
“That explains a lot about the conversation I just had with your parents, Hartley. I thought the way they were talking about you as their heir seemed odd, but I just chalked it up to them being worried. But given what you’ve said, I can guess that it was really because they don’t care about you nearly as much as they care about what you mean for their future,” he said.
“Please don’t get mad at Kid Flash or James. Neither of them did anything bad to me. In fact, I’ve had more fun hanging out with them than I can remember having...ever,” Hartley said. He meant it, too. Despite only having known the other boys for less than a day, he already felt closer to them than he did to his own parents. The Flash gave James an odd look.
“While Hartley being a runaway does explain why you never asked for a ransom, it doesn’t explain why you decided to help him do it, nor why you continued to stick around after Kid Flash showed up. Why in the world didn’t you leave him? You weren’t making a profit off him,” he asked. A wide grin spread across James’ face.
“Because I like him. Duh. Just because I’m a supervillain doesn’t mean I can’t like someone and want to hang out with him, does it?” he replied.
“Why would an adult supervillain enjoy spending time with a sheltered teenage boy?”
“Two reasons. First, him being sheltered means he’s adorably naive, and I get a good laugh out of that. Second, I’m only a year older than Richie Rich here. There was a mix-up when my birth certificate was made, and it lists me as two years older than I actually am. My parents and I found that out a couple years back, and I guess we just never got around to fixing it. I wasn’t kidding when I told the court that I was a child at heart,” James replied. Flash’s mouth dropped open.
“You’re only seventeen?” he exclaimed.
“Chronologically, yes. Legally, no,” James replied.
“Mentally, definitely not,” Kid Flash muttered.
“You’re one to talk, Mr. Hasn’t-Hit-Puberty.”
“I have too hit puberty!”
“Sure you have, Baby Flash. Sure you have.”
“Quiet!” Flash exclaimed. James and Kid Flash fell silent.
“Thank you. Why in the world didn’t you tell anyone that you were only 16 at your trial?” the Flash asked James.
“I thought they knew. I didn’t realize that we still hadn’t fixed my birth certificate until Baby Flash there told me that my record lists me as 19,” James replied.
“Is there anyone who can confirm your real age?” Flash asked.
“My parents, my nonna, my zii and zie, my cousins, the other people in the circus…” The Flash nodded and disappeared.
“Well, I don’t know what that was all about, but I think I’ll be leaving. It was great spending time with you two-especially you, Richie Rich. Don’t let your folks get you down, okay?”
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“Away...before I get arrested for breaking and entering. It was nice to meet you, Hartley….and hey, maybe we’ll see each other again someday. Bye!” James replied, pulling something out of his pocket as he did so. Just as Kid Flash started to move on him, he threw the thing at the ground, and it exploded in a mass of colorful glitter, smoke, and streamers. By the time everything cleared up, the Trickster was long gone.
“Darn! He got away again! I’m never gonna be able to become a superhero at this rate. This is the second time today I’ve let a villain get away!” Kid Flash exclaimed. Hartley smiled at him.
“You’re only 12. I’m sure if you keep practicing, you’ll be at least as good as the Flash by the time you’re an adult,” he said.
“You think so?” Kid Flash asked hopefully.
“I know so. You’re already incredibly fast. With a little more experience, you’ll be a formidable opponent for anyone...even someone as tricky as James,” he said.
“And I’m sure someone as kind and smart as you are will find a way to break out from under your parents’ thumb,” Kid Flash replied. Hartley personally doubted that, but after the crazy day he’d been through...who knew what might happen next. Maybe he really would be able to become his own person instead of just his parents’ puppet.
“Thanks,” Hartley said. At this point, the Flash returned.
“All right, Trickster. Your legal age now matches your biological...where’s the Trickster?”
“He got away. I’m really sorry, Flash! I tried to stop him, but-”
“No need to apologize, Kid Flash. The Trickster may be younger than I ever dreamed, but he’s been able to outsmart even me before. The fact that he was able to trick you is nothing to be ashamed of. We’ll just have to track him down later. But first, let’s get Hartley home,” Flash said. Hartley sighed.
“I suppose I’ve had my day as a normal kid. You...you can take me home,” he said quietly. His parents were going to be furious with him for doing this, but getting to know Kid Flash and James would make it all worth it.
“Hartley, I may be taking you home, but I’m not going to abandon you. I’m contacting CPS as soon as possible. What your parents are doing to you is unacceptable,” Flash said.
“Thank you, sir,” Hartley replied. He knew that CPS would take one look at the mansion and his fine clothes and his tutors and dismiss any charges of child abuse out of hand, but he appreciated the thought anyway. Kid Flash handed him a sheet of paper.
“And here’s my phone number if you need someone to talk to,” he said.
“Thank you, Kid Flash,” Hartley replied. Again, he appreciated the thought, but it was pointless. His parents would never allow him to call someone they didn’t know...especially after the stunt he had just pulled. With that, there was a rush, and Hartley found himself in the sitting room of his parents’ mansion, facing his parents, both of whom looked very upset.
“I’ve found your prodigal son, Mr. and Mrs. Rathaway. I’d advise you to think about why he went missing. In my experience, happy children don’t run away from home,” Flash said.
“What do you mean? Our heir was kidnapped by a supervillain!” Hartley’s mother asked angrily.
“No, I wasn’t. I...I ran away with him,” Hartley replied quietly. He didn’t want his parents to become angry at the Flash and risk having them ruin the superhero’s reputation.
“You did what?” Hartley’s father exclaimed.
“Your son was unhappy enough at home that he chose to run away with a juvenile delinquent-your “supervillain” is only 17 years old-just so that he could have one day to make choices for himself. You and your wife should figure out why that is. And if I find out that either of you have laid a hand on him for this...I will make sure that you face justice for it,” the Flash said. With that, he ran out of the room and had disappeared from the estate entirely in the time it took to blink. Hartley’s father scowled.
“Go to your room, Hartley. We’ll talk more about this later,” he barked. Hartley sighed, but obeyed. Time to get used to being a puppet again. As he walked to his room, he could hear his parents fuming about “the nerve of that so-called hero”. As he entered his room, he shook his head wearily, stuck his hand in his pocket..and felt something. Curious, he pulled it out to discover what looked like a wadded up napkin. He unfolded it to find what looked like a computer chip...and a note from James. Dear Richie Rich: I told you that I don’t do mind control. I don’t. It’s not funny enough, and I’ve never been able to get the hang of it. But I think you can. You’ve had the best education money can buy, so I bet you’ll be able to figure out this mind-control doohickey the Mirror Master’s been trying to perfect. Maybe it’ll help you get some control over your life. Your friend, J.J. (the Trickster). Hartley was stunned. How had James gotten this into his pocket? And how could a mind control device help him get control over his life? Even discounting the dodgy ethics behind such an idea, how would he ever be able to use it? It was just ridiculous. He set the chip on the table near his bed, picked up his flute, and began to play. Music was probably the only thing he was ever going to be able to control.
FIN
#flash rogues#fanfic#pied piper#trickster#james jesse#kid flash#flash#barry allen#wally west#rachel and osgood rathaway#dc comics#@gorogues#@swashbuckler
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I am curious: how would you describe Kiomi's relationship with Jiraiya? And with Koji Kashin? What you've shared about them so far seems very interesting and I must know more!
Thank you for dropping by and asking about my life blood for Kiomi! xD
Kiomi's relationship with Jiraiya is by far one of my most favorite things (it ties with Sarutobi Arai, another OC whom she formed a really strong bond with over the years, to the point where they are like sisters).
A little tidbit before I begin; to be perfectly honest, with the amount of stuff I dish out that's Jiraiya related, one couldn't have guessed that he was one of the characters that I absolutely HATED back in the day. Whatever admiration I have for Jiraiya mostly stemmed from Kiomi.
Now, where do I start...
JIRAIYA
I have 3 verses for Kiomi's interactions with Jiraiya. One follows the anime/manga, one is my main verse for her which follows my RP with the Jiraiya she came to know as her sensei, and then one verse with which I've started a long long time ago (and still ongoing with @ambitiousparagon). Since the most fleshed out is her main verse, I'll be talking about that.
Truthfully, Kiomi's relationship with Jiraiya is supposed to border on platonic going to enemies. However, fate has a funny way of letting the stars align.
The initial plot for this was Kiomi's desperation to prove herself useful to Orochimaru that she agreed to not only get intel on Konoha, but also take down one of the 2 remaining Sannins. A suicide mission, I know. Since Tsunade had value to Orochimaru as a healer, and someone whom he believed he could still EVENTUALLY sway to his side, her lord instead sent her after the most rumbunctios one of them all. He wasn't going to tell her how to do it. Since she’s so eager to prove herself, he allowed her to plan everything. Which she did, starting with pretending to be a defector from Otogakure. Kiomi had plotted with a few of the Otonins to help her out, set an attack, do as much damage as she could while she escaped to Konoha with pretty valid info (about Sasuke, and maybe a few plans here and there) to try and earn their trust. And while she was accepted, Konoha wasn't so stupid as to simply believe a previous underling of Orochimaru. SO. In order to prevent her from doing any sort of damage, and at the same time to keep her under surveillance, Tsunade had assigned Kiomi as a "student" to Jiraiya who had just returned from one of his reconnaissance missions. And with Jiraiya being a person who doesn't stay long in the village, it seemed like a good course of action to take, one which also worked to Kiomi's advantage because it brought her closer to her goal.
Their student-teacher setup starts out very platonic. Kiomi has always been quite the curious kid. She does her best to learn whatever it was that she could. With her arrangement of being a student, it allowed her to work closely with Jiraiya who, well...being Jiraiya, mostly had his nose stuck in a hot spring somewhere. This made her wonder if this was some kind of weakness that she could exploit when the time was right so she kept a close watch. She'd been warned about his lecherous ways, but since she was a teenage kid who didnt really see herself much of anything, she could care less about his reputation. In fact, there are times when she would wonder if his so called "research" was worth all the broken ribs and bones. Often times she would also use Jiraiya’s love for women and sake as motivation to head to a new village for whatever work they need to do.
Eventually though, the more they traveled the more they kept ending up in trouble's very welcoming arms. And these were the moments when a bond of trust formed between the two. Kiomi had been very open about her principle of not caring about other people's live. Who died and who didn't. After all, she was groomed to be a tool. Her mentor, however, was not having any of that nonsense. Jiraiya instills in her repeatedly the value of human life. True enough that taking one was easy, but preserving it along with learning how to understand one another despite all the differences was the goal of being a shinobi. He also pretty much treats her like an actual human being rather than just someone expendable, which sparked Kiomi's curiosity all the more. Because while Orochimaru had been kind (manipulative), Jiraiya was a very warm individual who didnt seem like his kindness had any strings attached. He also allows her to just bloom into her own person, encouraging her to rediscover herself as more than just a Shinobi, but as a living breathing human being. More than being a mentor on jutsus and other skills, what endeared Jiraiya to Kiomi was how much values and lessons about life she learned from him. To the point where she could no longer push through with her mission of assassinating him, and instead permanently defecting to Konoha. It also helps that Jiraiya hinted that he knew about her supposed betrayal. Where one would have normally sentenced her to execution because she was the enemy, the Toad Sage believed in her, and it was that benevolence that ultimately defeated her.
So it went from platonic to an eventual slow burn of becoming a ship. Which was all accidental, because apparently, due to all the trouble they got into, and due to always having each other's back, the sage developed his own brand of protectiveness over the girl and vice versa. That ended with him being half in denial and half in acceptance of what he was feeling, despite knowing it was probably wrong. He doesn't act upon it though as their bond as Master and Student was what was most important. At the same time, Kiomi who is as dense as a rock had no idea about what exactly it is that she feels. But when she realizes what it is, she tries to avoid it at all cost, as being Master and Student was also more important to her. Every once in a while though, a little bit of their feelings slip through. Mostly when one of them is half dead. (And they get into so much trouble that at the end of a specific arc, one of them is either REALLY injured, or near death, and in one occasion actually died.) There are also times when it just slips on its own from either side, due to careless words, or perhaps impulsive actions that creates a bit of awkward situations.
Here is an example of when Kiomi gives in a little to her own feelings.
===
What am I doing?
She couldn't sleep. She ended up shifting for a while there, turning to look up at the stars that Jiraiya had been so keen on seeing. Everything was pitch black which made her, for a moment, appreciate the little specs of light that seemed to glisten in the vast distance of space. Pretty. However, beautiful as they may, they gave her no comfort. The moon that had so graciously lent them its light was now hiding behind the midnight clouds, shying away from her sight. I can't sleep. At this rate, there would be no rest for her for the entire night.
That was when she felt just a slight shift beside her. Curiously, she took her first glance of him after that short period of silence. A soft sigh passed through her lips. At least, one of them was getting some sleep after a long day of training and misunderstandings. Still, from the looks of how his face was contorting, his slumber didn't seem all too pleasant. I'll check just a little.
And so, she sat up, silently and cautiously moving close enough so that she ever so slightly hovered over him. He didn't look like he was having a good time at all. See, this is why bed was the better choice. The mental note was made. Maybe she should wake him up, just in case he was having a nightmare. In that moment wherein she wanted to call for him, no words came out. Instead, a free hand moved on its own in an effort to touch his face. But they stopped. Just inches away from his cheek. Kiomi remembered the way that he had caressed her own (when he seemed under a delusional trance), but she had no courage to do the same. Even when her mouth moved to speak, only soundless words came out. And even those, she couldn't even finish. Again, she bit her lip inwardly. She didn't have the right to say them. After all, the expression on his face from earlier...the one that enthralled her to the point where she couldn't think straight, wasn't even meant for her.
So instead, her hands retreated to a few strands of hair that was long enough for her to take. Gently, just pressed her lips against them before finally relenting, retreating back to her own spot. And apparently just in time, since a few moments after that, she felt him move. Heard him speak. She had to hold her breath for a moment. Again, pretend to sleep. Closed her eyes.
What...am I doing?
===
In this main verse (where Jiraiya survives through the 4th Shinobi War), we've gotten to a point where they've admitted to what they feel (above is a prelude to said revelation), BUT! More than the awkward lovers they end up as, what's most important first and foremost is their relationship as teacher and student. It’s always the main element, everything else is basically secondary. Their relationship whether it's platonic or romantic, has always been one of learning.
And as proof to that, here is a scenario wherein Kiomi and Jiraiya were having a small lecture on the workings of the heart-- affections vs. unconditional love. She, out of curiosity, blurted out the question, "Isn't it frustrating if you can't touch the person that you love...?". To which the answer came as such:
===
"Hold that thought." He replied as she spoke the last of her words, wanting to take the time to address the prior question which was awkwardly blurted out on her behalf earlier. "It's very frustrating, yes, but...if you can't touch a person's heart with sincere feelings first, then no amount of hugs, kisses, or anything else can fill the void inside of you. There were many things that kept the woman that I loved and I apart. War. Misunderstanding. My own personal faults, but I find that I would've given anything within reason, even not being allowed to touch her in ways that would've held significant meaning for us both, just to be accepted as someone that she loved and was genuinely in love with."
Indeed, he had harbored those feelings for someone else. The unrequited love of the century, in fact, but what was worse in his mind was to succumb to the despair of not being accepted, was giving up on the prospect of being loved or in love at all. This was the man who believed that a ninja's worth was measured in his determination not to give up on their mission. So come what may, this brief skirmish of feelings with Kiomi had strengthened his resolve to maintain that belief system all the more no matter what the outcome between them would be.
"The better question is, why are you alright with hiding so much from yourself?" A contrast sharper than the edge of the most menacing blade, the internal conflict that she was experiencing was the true focus of his next words. "In other words, you won't get anywhere in life if all you do is hide from what you feel for anything." There were no exceptions going to be made, because this was suddenly about far more than mere affection or literary prowess. It was the central issue of Kiomi's very being which needed addressing in its own due time. Jiraiya felt that in the moment, it was his duty to plant the seeds which might otherwise allow her to consider the best options about how to confront and move past so daunting a thing. And there, without ever needing to say a word, his argument was given it's apex example. It didn't matter what realizing the truth of that matter cost if she could manage to pull it off. No price would be too high to pay, even their sacred bond, if it meant that she could grow past the limitation of inhibition which had placed a virtual strangle hold on her heart and mind.
===
Obviously talking about Tsunade in the first part. She feels an irrational bout of jealousy over a person who didn't even choose him, and feels her own emotions to be ugly. It's definitely a different type of envy compared to when she's jealous of Sasuke being Orochimaru's choice for a vessel.
And Jiraiya here made a really good point. The more she hides from what she feels, the more she doesn't get anywhere, which is why in verses where he is dead, Kiomi is left with an overwhelming regret of never having the chance, let alone courage to admit to her feelings and confess. Because she knows that he loves Tsunade, she is prepared for any sort of rejection (and knows that it'll even probably legitimately make her cry all the tears she can cry). If she had just allowed herself that little bit of honesty, then she probably wouldn't be stuck in the mud, unable to move forward in the years to come.
Ultimately though, Jiraiya's happiness is what's important to her. Which is why after the war, Kiomi works closely with both Otogakure and Konoha in order to protect the place and people that her mentor loved and died fighting for.
At the end of it all, I believe that for these three verses, the finality of her relationship with him is one of absolute trust and loyalty. Whether or not her feelings are reciprocated, she has already accepted the fact that Jiraiya ignites a flame within her, not necessarily one brought about by romance, but in the trust that he puts in her. He never was the type to give answers directly. It wasnt a mind game, but Jiraiya's brand of teaching encourages a belief in one's self to find an answer that the student can believe in, something in which he too comes to have faith in.
Kashin Koji’s route comes in a separate post.
#|| Breaking the Ice || Answered#super-kame-love#I'm sorry it's so long.#In these three verses#She loves Jiraiya so much she doesnt know what to do. So she just vehemently denies it when she can.#But in the verse where they do admit to their feelings. They are very wholesome.#Because all they do is train and develop new jutsus#And continue with their student teacher routine.
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A Stake of Holly In Her Heart Pt. 7
Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6
The first morning of the New Year, Max is spending her day in the cemetery.
She doesn’t really know what she believes about death, doesn’t have a clue where in the universe her brother might be now, be it of divinity or the supernatural, or maybe nowhere at all. All she knows is that she thinks the graveyard is creepy.
Right now, she’s sat cross-legged on the plot where her brother is buried, a space which is by now mostly grown over, her back against his headstone, wearing his jacket and using his Walkman.
There’s melting snow on the ground, the splotchy patches of ice soaking through her jeans and sending a nasty chill through her bones.
Her fingertips are numb, her nose and her cheeks are bright red from the whipping wind, her teeth chatter and her body shakes.
She hates the weather here, the dreariness and the bitter cold she never had to deal with back home, but she’s getting better at appreciating it for what it is.
Hawkins was supposed to be a new start, a way for her to sort of step away from how things used to be, when she still trusted her step-dad and when her and her brother fought all the time, so she could grow as a person.
She never expected it to be a permanent stop. Before Susan remarried, her and her mother used to move from city to city constantly, and she thought this would be like that in a way, where they’d move right on to the next place once they were done in the dinky little town.
But then they lost Billy, had to bury him in middle-of-nowhere Indiana, thousands of miles away from his home where he belonged, and Hawkins became a symbol of everything Max hated.
From optimism for where they could go from here, to the depressing reminder of confinement, of not being in control of her own life, her circumstances had done a complete 180.
She thinks that, for the most part, she’s getting better though. For one thing, it’s a pretty good sign that she’s not crying from just being here in the gloomy graveyard, but she’s still got a long ways to go.
Not that the hurt from her brothers death is ever going away, that’s a lifetime deal, but she’s at a place where she’s beginning to realize that the world is bigger than what she's lost.
Because, while Susan might not have been coming from the right place when she told her daughter that she needed to appreciate what she did have, Max thinks she can get behind it.
So what if her friends couldn’t feel her pain exactly, they were willing to help, and their help was exactly what she needed. That alone meant the world to her, no matter how pushy they could be, or how unhelpful their advice was.
And why did Hawkins have to lose its significance just because of the bad things that happened there? What was keeping her from remaining optimistic in the face of her suffering?
There was no good reason at all for why she couldn’t still be happy surrounded by her friends, or look forward to her future just because her brother couldn’t. If anything, she should do all of those things for him.
He never did much like anyone making a fuss over him, so Max likes to think that’s what Billy would’ve wanted her to believe too.
That’s why she’s out there now, mostly unprotected from weather cold enough to freeze her Winnebago, because she had made a promise to herself that she was going to be better at appreciating life for what it was, and that’s exactly what she would do.
In the moment, that meant becoming a human popsicle in the cemetery.
Any day now Maria Hargrove would be arriving in Hawkins to visit Billy, and Max wanted to be there when she did.
There was no telling exactly when she’d actually get in town, given the day and a half drive from Modesto to Hawkins, so for the past few days, Max had been camping out in the cemetery during the day as she awaited her arrival.
She’s starting to get bored waiting. Thrice she’s listened through the one mixtape of her brother’s that was still in the Walkman when she found it, and she’s considering just going home for the day.
Breaking curfew too many times meant the creation of new a rule that she be home before dark anyways, and considering she’s probably minutes away from becoming hypothermic, she decides she’s going to start heading back now.
As she stands and tries to brush off some of the ice clinging to her pants, though, she notices a woman a little ways away walking on the path, nervously checking every name on every headstone.
There’s not a glimmer of doubt in Max’s mind that this woman is Maria Hargrove.
The resemblance between mother and son is unmistakable, from the way their curls, dirty blonde and loose, laid flat in the winter, the curve of their button noses and the spatter of freckles across it, the deep blue of their eyes. Just seeing her and how much she looked like Billy, Max feels a twinge of sadness in her heart.
It’s when those eyes, in all of their dark intensity, meet hers that Max offers up a sympathetic smile, and slips her headphones off of her ears.
Maria’s gaze meets hers, and her face goes pale as she stops dead in her tracks. There’s a moment where it looks like she might bail, but she takes a deep breath, and steps forward.
“Are you Billy’s step-sister?”
“Yes ma'am”
Nervously, Maria goes for the formalities, deliberately standing so she can keep the headstone behind Max out of her line of sight.
Wrapping her arms around herself against the cold, or maybe for comfort, the nervous woman says “Thank you for reaching out, dear.”
Max shrugs her shoulders, keeping her freezing hands deep in her pockets. It’s an awful nonchalant gesture for how overwhelmed she’s feeling in the presence of Billy’s mom. “Thought you needed to know.”
Neither of them knows what to do for a moment, Maria still clearly not ready to actually address the reason she’s here, so Max tries to break the ice again.
“I have a picture here. You can have it.” She thought it would be a nice thing to do, bringing Maria a picture of Billy, since she probably hadn’t seen any of him that weren’t almost a decade old.
She chose one of the defects from last summer when they were trying to get his headshot for the lifeguard board. It’s a little blurry and washed out from the sun, but it’s one of the last few pictures ever to be taken of him, and the most Billy picture she had of him by far.
Probably because he’d been in his element, far away from the fake smiles and the even faker family bonding that most pictures of him included, just goofing off with his sister in the backyard and trying to get a good shot, it was definitely one of her favorites.
Taking the little Polaroid from Max’s hand, Maria gasps softly as she studies her estranged son's face. Tears bubble up in her throat as she remarks, mostly to herself, “My handsome boy…”
With what looked to be a tremendous effort, Maria looked up and took another few steps forward, now at the foot of her son's grave.
There’s a quiver in her voice as she asks Max softly, “Could you tell me what happened?”
“There was a fire at the mall. He tried to help some people out but the ceiling, it collapsed because it was glass and, he-he didn’t make it.” It’s a practiced story, she wonders if she’s a little too dull in her delivery, because it’s not really the whole truth.
The impaled by falling debris story just happened to be government approved, and tended to work a lot better than telling people he’d been killed by an inter dimensional monster from a parallel universe.
“My baby.” Her thumb caresses absentmindedly over the glossy photo. “Went out a hero.”
She smiles for nobody but herself. “He was always like that. Even when he was just a little thing, he thought he could protect me from Neil.”
“I- Neil, did he ever…?” Max can tell what she’s implying, if he ever abused Billy like he had his mother, and, not knowing how to be any less blunt about it, Max simply tells her, “Yeah. A lot, actually.”
With a shaky hand, Maria covers her mouth in something like shock, disappointment, regret. There’s a tightness in her voice when she speaks again, an unreadable mix between anger and heartbreak, “He swore to me he wouldn’t ever lay a hand on our boy.”
“God, I don’t know why I believed him.” Pushing her hair back, a nervous tick Max had seen her son do a thousand times as well, she barely manages to choke out, “He said he would change. I can’t-.”
She stews in that for a moment, teary eyes locked on the stone in front of her, and when she speaks again, her voice is full of something very different from the sadness she’d been letting through before. “I need to see him.”
There’s a dangerous look in her eye as she turns to look to Max, “Where can I find Neil Hargrove?”
Maria drives her back home in her ‘74 Karmann Ghia, and, while Max appreciates being spared the long walk home in the cold, she’s got to admit she’s nervous.
There’s no telling how exactly Neil is going to react to finding out that Maria’s in town thanks to Max, and she’s equally unsure about what Maria is going to do seeing her abuser for the first time in eight years. It’s more than stressful.
The truck is pulled up out front, confirming much to Max’s dismay that there’s no avoiding this confrontation. She just hopes things don’t get too far out of control.
Her parents must have been waiting up for her, because, as soon as they park, Neil is on the porch, arms crossed and looking stern, ready to chew out whichever of Max’s friends is behind the wheel this time, but that attitude is dropped completely when he sees Maria.
Mostly because, as soon as she steps out of the car, she makes him drop it, marching right across their lawn just to smack him as hard as she could.
Max quickly sneaks past them, running up to the porch and allowing her own mother to place a concerned hand on her shoulder and steer her inside away from the fighting. She continues watching from the living room window.
“How could you?” Even from inside, Max can hear her shrieking voice clearly. “I am his mother!”
Neil, a man typically known for the disturbingly calm way he fought, actually shows his anger, flushing red as a beet and telling her in a voice that’s shaking with hatred. “You lost your right to that boy the moment you walked out the door.”
“You know that’s not fair! You left me with no choice!” She puts both hands on his chest and shoves him hard, tears on her cheeks. “You lied to me!”
“I parented him as I saw fit!” He raises his voice, and Max swears see can physically see the restraint it’s taking him not to hit Maria back. She’s glad they hadn’t brought this inside.
“What right do you have to question me, when you,” he points a finger into her face, “you left us behind.” he says, turning it around on himself, “I was there for that boy, while you were what, trying to live out your fantasy? Run away so you could show me how independent you were?”
Maria screams back at him, “It doesn’t matter what you think of me! I still deserved to know that my baby was dead!”
Just watching the two of them go at it really explains a lot about Billy.
The temper, the terrible coping mechanisms, the anger issues, all of it can be boiled down to the display currently happening in her front yard.
Max finds herself wishing he had more time to work on it, the behavior that was so deeply ingrained in him, but seeing firsthand the way his parents conducted themselves, she felt proud of him that he could even do as much as he had before his life was cut short.
Though it only makes the sting of his last words, a broken apology past the blood bubbling up in his throat, all the worse, knowing that he’d been trying so hard to be different, but all she could do for him now was make sure she didn’t veer down the same path. To try to use all that her friends had taught her to keep from following in his footsteps, and repeating his same mistakes.
Billy’s parents, however, seem to have shut out any thoughts like that, letting their hostility and their aggression out right in the front yard, no doubt by now drawing a crowd of nose neighbors peeking through their blinds.
Maria slaps Neil again, for what exactly Max didn’t quite catch that time, and storms back to her car.
Neil follows her, standing at her drivers side door and continuing his tirade of profanities even as Maria’s drives away.
Watching Neil fuming in the street now that Maria is gone, Max thinks it’d be in her best interest to be as far away from the aftershock of the fight as possible.
She cautiously hides out in her room, listening to Neil stomping his way back into the house, to him slamming doors and saying nasty things to Susan until that’s all replaced with the sound of keys being dug out of a pocket, and the truck roaring to life out front.
Sometimes Neil would do that, just up and leave to go out drinking at the bar if he didn’t want to face something that made him particularly angry. Max’d take that any day over a beating.
The whole thing still leaves Max shaken to her core, so, using what she’s been trying to teach herself since deciding she didn’t have to do everything on her own, she decides she’s going to reach out.
It takes her forever to finally turn the dial on her walkie, and even longer to actually say anything into it. “Guys?”
There are no initial responses, so she tries again. “Anybody read me?”
The first to respond is Lucas with a “Loud and clear, MadMax.” and the rest follow suit with various confirmations of their own.
Eleven asks her, “Everything is alright?”
“Yeah, totally, I just,“ She sighs, trying to find the right words. Opening up was definitely something she needed more practice with. “Billy’s mom came into town today and it made my step dad really mad and-“
“Hold the phone.” It’s Steve interrupting her despite having been expressly told by Dustin that he was only allowed to snoop if he never bothered them. “ You’re telling me that the Maria Hargrove is here? In Hawkins?”
“Yeah, I- she’ll be in town for the next few days,” Max says, a little thrown off guard, “but that’s not my point, I was saying that-“
“This is major. I mean, where is she? What’s she doing here?” Steve’s talking fast, his tone sounding like a cross between frantic and pissed off. “I need some more to work with here, Max.”
“Well she’s here for Billy, obviously, and I think she mentioned the Motel 6.” Max explains quickly, trying to get back to the point at hand, “But really I-“
“How long is she here for?”
“Steve!” At least three of the kids yell at him at once, not only for breaking literally the only rule he was given when they let him have a walkie, but also for cutting Max off.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll butt out.” He says, seemingly chastened, but then he tries to add, “First can you tell me if-“
“Goodbye, Steve.” Dustin cuts in before the older boy can add a condition.
They wait until they’re sure he’s done before Will asks, “What was his problem?”
Now, Max knows why it concerns Steve, but she keeps her mouth shut. She’d just sit back and let the rest of the kids come up with whatever explanation they saw fit, and maybe talk to Steve about Maria later.
Mike snickers into his end, “Maybe he likes older women?”
Lucas scoffs, “That’s gross, man.”
After that, the conversation doesn’t linger for too long on Max’s problems beyond them making sure she’s okay and moving along to their usual topics of discussion, but just that little bit of concern is enough for her. Her friends were by no means professional therapists, but, thinking over the newest gossip and campaign ideas leaves her mind occupied with something other than dwelling on the negative, and that’s enough.
One of the hardest things she’d been dealing, was fear that if she allowed herself to be happy, to focus or to think about anything other than her sadness over her brother, she was going to forget him.
But spending the night talking with her friends about games and teenager drama, she can’t help but feel that it’s just overall better to focus on the good things in life rather than to keep reopening the wound by dwelling on everything miserable.
Two days, a reportedly passive aggressive introduction to Steve Harrington, and many hours spent at her son's graveside later, Maria calls from her room at the Motel 6 to tell Max she’s leaving for California.
She says she feels she’s overstayed her welcome, and that she’s had enough time to made her peace. There’s nothing left for her in Hawkins, so it’s time to go back home.
Max asks her, “Will you be back soon?”
The question basically answers itself; if Maria could leave her behind ten year old when he was begging her to stay, it only made sense that she could leave him behind with ease, now that he’s eighteen and six feet under. The only reason Max really feels the need to ask is in case it might change her mind.
“If I can make it.” It’s an ambiguous enough answer that she knows it means no, but she supposes she can live with that. Just knowing that she got Maria to come back to Billy at all is what mattered.
What a shame though, that it took her son dying young, killed at the cusp of his adulthood, to bring her back around. What a shame that she couldn’t face the consequences of her actions before it was too late.
But it was never really about Maria anyways, Max couldn’t have cared less if she got her closure, or made her peace, as she had put it. It was all for Billy.
It would seem anyways, that these days, most things Max did were.
Because no matter where it was that his soul had ended up, she knows she can do better, can keep growing knowing that she did right by him, and continues to do so every day.
It is for this reason, in honor of her big brother Billy, as well as for her own sake, that Max made it her goal to do her best to honour Christmas in her heart, and try to keep it all the year.
Read also on ao3!
#max mayfield#billy hargrove#steve harrington#the party (st)#stranger things#ej writer#story by EJ!#and that's a wrap folks!#whewie am I glad to have this finished!#thank you thank you thank you to everyone who read this!#I am speechless at how many hits and comments this got on ao3!#you're all so darned sweet!#this took a lot outta me so it'll probably be a while until I post more writing#but I will say I do have plans to post some traditional art here soon!
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There’s a definite chance I might not be writing this BUT
I had a detroit become human idea for a Mob Psycho fic, it’s pretty loose considering I had the idea while sitting in the back of a car and standing under the shower head.
There’s probably a chance I would be writing it but it’s kinda leaning to a “Nah, probably not”.
With that being said, I kinda don’t want to trash the idea as a whole without it meeting the light of day, so I’m gonna spill my ideas here so I can look back and think; “Wow. That’s shit.”
To add, this whole thing will sound more like babbling than an actual summary, so excuse me lmao.
Tsubomi doesn’t have any friends. But coming from a wealthy family, her parents decides to buy her a friend. Cue Shigeo/Mob.
I had a funny model name for all the child androids ‘ESP(insert number, for Shigeo it’s 100)’ despite this being a no powers AU. Then I realized it probably wouldn’t fit because I am low key planning for all the espers to be androids and realized ‘Wow, ha ha, that’s a lot of androids’ so now SOME of the espers are androids.
Okay so fast forward and Tsubomi’s parents are thinking, “We should replace Shigeo, he’s kinda old fashioned now.”
“Mom we only had him for 4 years.”
“Exactly.”
But Tsubomi’s really attached to Mob because he’s her best friend, and doesn’t tell him he might be replaced until he finds out himself. He goes bat shit crazy and tries to kill himself and Tsubomi. Cue Serizawa, a cop android.
Serizawa calms my boy down and Shigeo’s like, “You’re right, I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m so--” bang. Tsubomi low key gets traumatized, Shigeo is bleeding blue on the floor.
We shift to the next scene where Shigeo wakes up on like a bed except it’s actually a table. Cue Reigen, he works at Cyberlife as a child therapist/repair worker. Actually, my man was suppose to be just a repair worker but he got promoted to child therapist for calming down a raging Teru.
“Kid, you remember anything?”
“I- Sorta? Where am I, am I gonna be killed?”
Reigen’s like sweating because he isn’t sure himself, Shigeo’s the first kid who tried to commit murder. But as they talked, Reigen’s kinda surprised to realize that Shigeo’s actually a really really sweet kid.
Shigeo asks how Tsubomi is doing and if she hates him. Reigen tells him she’s fine and she misses him. Which is the truth, but he doesn’t mention that Tsubomi did end up getting a replacement in fear of ticking Shigeo off. Cue Ritsu, the replacement android best friend.
There’s a sort of cell holding all the ‘defect’ child androids, like a little playroom but also an actual cell, and inside there’s: Gou, Rei, Takeshi, Daichi, Kaito and Teru.
Cue Teru, who is the only one who has a similar case to Shigeo; he punched a kid in the nose and sent him to the hospital, which made his mom very very pissed and sent him for repairs. Because of this, he’s enraged further and the staff can’t send him back unless his attitude changes to the “ideal son”.
Teru thinks being an android is a gift, he can’t die and he’s pretty much flawlessly shaped. When he meets Shigeo, he asks why he looks so plain, and it’s revealed it’s because Tsubomi didn’t want anything flashy.
And mostly because Shigeo’s an older model.
Each kid (except for Teru) had an actual defect to their system. Gou has somehow obtained a built in lighter function, which isn’t suppose to be there. Rei has the reconstruct and construct feature for unknown reasons. Takeshi is basically a walking magnet, except he doesn’t really know when it’s turned on or off (when it’s turned on, it’s strong enough to accidentally pull all the others towards him and it gets pretty annoying). Daichi and Kaito’s memory cloud keeps syncing with one another, which disrupts them from being able to remember the right things correctly (i.e Daichi gets Kaito’s memories and believes they are his own and vice versa).
The only reason they’re still stuck here is because they come from middle class families (except for Teru), so they’re way behind on the waiting list to get repaired.
Shigeo, on the other hand, came from a rich family, so he’d be out in no time. This makes Teru very mad, he states it isn’t fair that Shigeo gets to be let out sooner than them even though he just got here.
He tries to attack, but unfortunately for him, they’ve installed a software that prevents Teru from being able to kick and punch. Like a parental lock sorta? The same has been done to Shigeo.
Shigeo only makes Teru even more mad when he says he wishes he was human. If he wasn’t human, none of this would’ve happened, “Teru, if you were human, you wouldn’t be right here y’know? Your mom wouldn’t need to send a real human boy for repairs.”
And Teru is pissed because he knows Shigeo’s right.
But being the cunning bitch he is, he smiles and pretends to accept Shigeo’s opinion, and he asks for a hug. Shigeo happily agrees and let’s Teru wrap an arm around him.
Then Teru squeezes.
“Teru, I can’t, you’re crushing- I can’t--”
“Oh, I know. If I break you enough, you’ll have to stay here with us even longer.”
Shigeo tries to retaliate, but due to the software, he’s unable to kick himself free. The rest tries to intervene, but Teru threatens them to stay back or he’ll squeeze harder.
“Can a human do this? Shigeo? Can they?”
Shigeo manages to break through the system and finally breaks free, he’s back in his aggressive mode and actually starts attacking.
He takes it too far when he rips Teru heart out.
Everyone is screaming at this point and Reigen’s rushing towards the cell like mad. Serizawa is there too, because he wanted to visit Shigeo to see how he’s doing.
“Why are you running?”
“Something bad is happening, I need to be there- Woah there buddy!” Serizawa picks Reigen up and surprises him. Then the android fucking bolts.
When Reigen finally reaches the cell and enters, he finds Shigeo on the ground, bleeding out once again, and Teru staring motionlessly at Shigeo.
“He...gave me his heart.”
Shigeo is sent to be repaired again and this time, he’s kept in a separate cell, because no one knows how he managed to break through their system. It’s almost impossible for a child -and not to mention an OLD- model to be able to do that.
While Reigen’s thinking in his office, cue Mitsuura, who says it’d be a shame for all those child models to lose their cool abilities. He jokes about just creating a child model meant to possess those abilities, like a tiny cop or something.
Cue Suzuki, no no, the other Suzuki. Mommy Suzuki. Except she’s a single lady who surrounds herself with Touichirou, the first ever android model made. That’s right, she’s head of Cyberlife.
She comes in, because she can’t sit still, and says, “Not a bad idea, man.”
Mitsuura has a fit and thanks the woman.
“So, about that old model that broke my parental control lock?” She turns to Reigen and he huffs, shrugging.
“I really don’t know, ma’am.”
She hums, definitely interested. Unlike the OG DBH, in this AU, they’re more lenient in the deviancy of androids because Suzuki believes they can have rights too. Except they don’t need to get paid, unless they want to? Honestly my idea for that aspect is low key fuzzy.
So anyways, Suzuki remembers Mitsuura’s idea and basically starts sketching out the draft. Cue Shou, who doesn’t exist yet but he’s in the making.
“Can you take the extra components of those child androids and keep them somewhere for later use? I’ll be needing them.”
“Ma’am, those androids are at the back of the waiting list, we can’t just--”
“Just do it.”
Cue Roshuuto, who seriously believes they should just kill Shigeo. “He’s too dangerous” blah blah blah SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Anyways, Reigen doesn’t want to do that because a) android or not, that’s a kid and b) You can’t make that decision and neither can I. Only Suzuki can.
Roshuuto sorta frowns, because everyone knows Suzuki plays favorites; and that favorite is Reigen. He’s the reason why Touichi now has a bit of sentience, before that android was pretty ruthless.
So if Reigen personally doesn’t want to get rid of Shigeo, then Suzuki would say the same too.
Meanwhile, Teru has been showing signs of positive improvement in attitude, there’s a speculation it might’ve been because Teru now has Shigeo’s heart, but that’s just dumb. That kid believes he just killed another android and he’s not sure how he feels about it, so he decides the least thing he could do was to be a better android.
Since Shigeo doesn’t share the same cell as them and nobody told them Shigeo survived, everyone in the playroom thinks Shigeo is dead.
Teru gets sent back after that, and the rest of the kids got their needed repairs.
Meanwhile, Shigeo and Reigen has daily consultation sessions, where they try to find the source of Shigeo’s issues. It takes about a month and Reigen hands Shigeo his cellphone number, saying if Shigeo ever needed him, Reigen would be there.
Shigeo gets sent back to the Takane’s family, because if he doesn’t, Tsubomi will throw a fit. She doesn’t do it often, but when she does, it’s ugly. It’s not like she’s spoiled, but when she strongly and firmly wants something, she’s determined enough to get it.
Originally, Ritsu was meant to be a direct replacement of Shigeo. He even had the bowl cut and everything, but Tsubomi’s intelligent and manages to figure out Ritsu’s a fake. She doesn’t get mad at him though, he doesn’t deserve it, instead she just befriends him too. Ritsu becomes a whole new person he wants to be, even mussed up his hair to look different.
So Shigeo meets Ritsu for the first time, and he’s sorta confused and upset, but Tsubomi got attached to Ritsu as well and refuses to leave him. Ritsu says he’s glad to finally meet Shigeo, because he has heard so much about him, and Shigeo decides he could like Ritsu.
I kinda stop making ideas from here, but I had a rough idea what happens next. Teru and Shigeo do meet again at some point, and Ritsu does meet Shou at some point too.
There will be background Serirei, and Shigeo does eventually grow a crush on Tsubomi and confession and oh no it went wrong. I think that’s when Shou makes his first appearance?
Because they think a child can calm another child down. It doesn’t work.
Nobody realizes Reigen’s probably the only thing that can help until the very very last minute.
So anyways, that’s the end of it. I don’t know what to do with this idea because now that I’ve spilled them all on the table, I kinda feel like writing it now. Though I already have two other projects planned, one being Nap’s birthday gift fic and another being a secret project that features Ritshou and amnesia, so it might be delayed to maybe June :(
#mob psycho 100#mp100#detroit become human#alternate universe#kageyama shigeo#reigen arataka#serizawa katsuya#hanazawa teruki#takane tsubomi#kageyama ritsu#suzuki shou#fanfic ideas
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are y’all ready for a showerthoughts au?? a little brain wiggle that decided to invade my brain once water hit by body?? well buckle up kids bc here we have a bizarre au where five both is and isn’t the main character
SO we start with the premise that, when Five worked for the Commission, he had health checks and doctors visits and all that. In the comics he was genetically experimented on and his aging is halted, but I don’t think they’re going that way in the TV show bc young actors age
but my whole point is: they probably have samples of Five’s genetic materials
(disclaimer: i am not a scientist and don’t know how any of this stuff works)
and wouldn’t it be so useful to have trained and loyal soldiers with the same ability to jump in space and time who are completely molded to your will? Isn’t that a brilliant idea? In this au, the Handler definitely thought so (and if she had grand plans to eventually sick her new assassins on Five and give him the shock of his life, well that’s too bad isn’t it)
except it doesn’t entirely work. Five’s DNA is actually kind of unstable? From his space jumps and time jumps, every time they attempt to clone him it fails and they end up with nothing. They keep tweaking things, but they have a limited supply of usable genetic material and they rack up failures. They almost give up when one child finally, finally, succeeds and makes it through the fetal stages and takes his very first breath surrounded by breathless scientists who are whooping and hollering in joy
They don’t name him. He’s a weapon. But they refer to him as ‘The Boy’ and the Handler is so tickled pink by the comparison with Five’s hero name that she refuses to name him anything else, even a project name or experiment number.
The Boy grows up. He’s trained. He goes through grueling training to become the perfect assassin, with the Handler standing over his shoulder and smiling the whole while - likely imagining the day he would be old enough to take down her original nemesis.
And Boy doesn’t know anything else. He grows up, and he ends up getting sent with other agents on missions. Sometimes as a prop, a child helping them blend in and get closer to a target, and sometimes as the assassin.
The theory is that raising him in isolated Commission environment, without siblings to care about, without a world to care about, he will be perfect.
(They shouldn’t have sent him on missions.)
He knows something isn’t right. He knows something is missing. He gets check ups every week until he’s six and then it becomes every month. And scientists talk. They marvel at his stability where ‘the others’ failed. He knows he isn’t the first child they tried to make.
And for whatever reason, the idea that at some point he wasn’t alone is an important one. And he’s curious. He wants to know about the other children who failed, the ones who didn’t make it, the ones who were his siblings. It’s an idle curiosity, of a child who went on missions and saw families and recognized something that he didn’t have.
He’s perfect. He was raised in the Commission. There’s no reason to believe he’ll defect, because there’s nothing for him to defect to. His entire life is the Commission.
(Sometimes, the Handler takes his face in her hands. Her nails dig into his cheeks in he tries to look away and so he doesn’t, standing perfectly still with a thousand yard stare. Sometimes, she calls him ‘five point two’ with a delighted smile and he doesn’t know what that means.)
No one expects him to rebel even a little bit, and really picking the locks on the record room and reading old logs barely counts.
(He can’t jump, not in the building. The first thing that the Commission did is figure out a way to sense when he jumps. They can’t figure out where he goes, but they know when it happens. If he jumps unauthorized, his punishments are severe. Hence: the lock picking.)
He wants to find records of his siblings, of the experiments and the failures. He wants to know how many came before him.
Instead, he finds a photo of himself. Except not quite. It’s him but older, obviously taken from a security camera and cropped. It’s an incident report, which shouldn’t be filed here. Something that slipped through the cracks. He reads the report, and his eye catches on the name. Five. Status: Unknown, the report proclaims, but it’s an old report.
The Boy’s first thought is not that Five is the original. Because the Boy has been around long enough to know what normal names are like, and as an experiment it would make sense for them to be named numbers, experiment numbers. The Boy doesn’t look at the picture and think that’s where I came from.
Instead, he looks at it and he thinks - brother.
He thinks that he wasn’t the first success that the Commission had with jumping kids. He looks at the teen in the photo and thinks that Five is another Commission experiment. And the Boy is so lonely. He tucks the picture up his shirt with care.
He scours through the rest of the piles for any information on this Five, but comes up empty handed. The report with the original mention was filed incorrectly, he wasn’t supposed to see it at all. But the report didn’t say deceased, didn’t say mission closed or objective complete or anything like that. It said that Five’s status was unknown. Which meant he escaped. Which meant he might still be out there.
The Boy might have family that was alive.
He keeps his knowledge close to his heart. He breaks into every records room he can get his hands on. But the Handler was thorough in her classifying of Five’s existence (until the time was right to kill him, of course) and the Boy doesn’t find another hint for a long time.
And then, like magic, he does. He’d been looking through old reports and, on a whim, decided to look at the newer ones. There was a mission to kill someone in a city in 2019, and there was a special note to be careful and extra covert because former agent Five was known to be hostile to Commission Agents.
Which meant that Five was alive. And that he was in that city. In 2019. The Boy had a time and a place and a date and, for the first time, hope.
In the end, it’s a crime of opportunity. He’s sent on a mission with an older agent who is mean. The older man is unimpressed with being assigned to, in his words, babysit a child. So it’s maybe a tiny bit vindictive when the Boy grabs the suitcase and jumps, leaving the man behind and stumbling out into an alley in a city he’s never seen before.
He destroys the suitcase, knowing it can be used to track him. And maybe he was a bit impulsive - because it’s a big city and there’s only one of him and he has no idea where to start looking.
But luck is on his side, because the Boy has been living homeless for weeks trying desperately to keep under the Commission’s radar (it helps that they tread carefully as well, unwilling to draw attention to themselves) while also looking for his one family connection. And he’s squatting illegally in a building, and he gets busted.
And he’s tired, and exhausted, and hungry, and jumping right now is a terrible idea. He could kill the officer with ease, but that would draw even more attention to him and just. Ugh.
But he’s taken to the station, and there’s a woman there who blinks at him and says - “Five? What are you doing here?”
And all the Boy can do is blink stupidly at her.
The woman, Detective Patch her desk says, sighs deeply at him and shakes her head. She waves off the officer who brought the Boy in, “I’ll call Diego. What they hell were you doing in that abandoned building?”
“Uh - ” The Boy tries, because she asked him a question, but words are escaping him right now. This woman thinks he is Five. This woman knows Five. His brain is running at a million miles a minute and this is the best lead he’s had since he landed here and somehow he can do nothing but stare at her with wide eyes.
“Never mind.” Detective Patch says, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’m sure I don’t want to know. Just sit tight a minute, okay?”
His body moves on autopilot to sit down, used to obeying orders and never questioning them. Even so, he’s almost vibrating in place in excitement.
The detective is on the phone. The detective nods. The detective hangs up.
“Someone will be by to pick you up in a minute.” She informs him, “Don’t go traumatizing my coworkers in the meantime, you hear? You know where the bathroom is if you need it.”
The Boy does not, but it’s easy enough to figure out. He ends up staring at himself in the mirror, and quite frankly he looks like hell. He’s been homeless for weeks, and while he’s better off than many due to his skills as a thief it’s still not great. And he’s about to meet Five, his family. He has to look presentable! He runs the faucet and scrubs at the dirt on his face and runs his hands through his hair to try and look presentable. It doesn’t really work, but it’s the best he’s going to get.
By the time he comes out, there’s a man standing at Detective Patch’s desk. He’s wearing all black and has - knives? The sight automatically makes the Boy wary. But surely a Commission agent wouldn’t be so obvious? The Detective sees him, and the man turns to follow her eyes.
He has a scar on the side of his head, the Boy observes. He wonders where he got it.
“I don’t have time to be bailing your ass out, Five!” The man barks, and he sounds angry. The Boy can’t help the flinch - it’s never good when adults are angry with him. It always leads to more pain. The man tracks the small movement and frowns.
But he does soften just a little bit. “C’mon.” He says, still gruff. “Klaus is waiting in the car.”
The Boy doesn’t know who Klaus is, but if following the man will get him closer to Five then he’s going to do it regardless of personal discomfort. The scarred man goes around to the drivers side, and the Boy is left hovering uncomfortably between the passenger and backseat door.
He hasn’t been told where he’s allowed to sit.
“Don’t worry!” The man in the back, presumably the Klaus that was mentioned, hollers through the door, “Ben’s good wherever!”
And yeah, that makes even less sense and the Boy still doesn’t know what to do.
Thankfully the scarred man rolls his eyes, “Just get in the back.”
The Boy does so, sitting gingerly on the leather seat and trying not to stare at either of the two strangers who now have him inside an enclosed space. The glittery man, Klaus, looks towards the empty passenger seat with a confused crease to his eyes.
“What happened, Five?” The scarred man asks bluntly as he pulls out.
The Boy... doesn’t know how to answer that either. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out even though he was asked a direct questions.
“You have... an episode?” The man asks almost gently, tiptoeing around his phrasing like a man afraid of setting off a live grenade. The Boy is sure it would have been helpful, if he knew what the fuck the man was talking about to begin with. As it is, he’s even more confused.
Klaus coos softly, looking concerned from what the boy can see of his reflection in the window. Not knowing how to respond, he stays silent. Clearly though, that means something to both of the men because the scarred one nods and they both drop it.
They pull up outside a big house. Both men get out of the car, and look confused when the Boy stays in place. He hasn’t been given permission to exit the vehicle yet though, so he’s not sure why they look concerned. These two aren’t very good Handlers, he hopes they’re not the ones in charge of Five.
“Uh,” The scarred one clears his throat, “We’re home dude. C’mon.”
That’s about as much of an order as he’s going to get around here, probably. And if the scarred man says that we’re home, including who he assumes is Five in that sentence, then that means - his search is over?
Suddenly eager, he jumps in a flash of blue over to the door. It’s not allowed, and immediately icy shock goes down his spine and his brain is alight with anxiety, but nothing happens. He’s not in the Commission. They can’t track his jumps outside of it.
Before he can spiral further into panic, the door is opened and he’s being swept inside. It’s big. It’s really big.
“Is that you, Diego?” Someone calls from within the house, “Dinner’s almost ready! Five said he’s gonna be late - ”
A woman emerges from a room, a towel in her hands. She’s tall, is the first thing the Boy notices about her. Her hair is curly - he likes it.
“Patch called me.” The scarred man - Diego? - informs the woman, who immediately frowns at the Boy. He hunches his shoulders in a little. “I think he had an episode or something, I dunno. He’s acting weird.”
Somehow or another he’s ushered into the kitchen. There’s even more people in there. There’s a lot of people in this house. There’s another woman, who is short and mousy. She gives him a small smile when he enters. There’s a man as well, tall and broad and scary looking. The Boy tries not to look him in the eyes.
There’s fussing and suddenly everyone is sitting down at the table except for the Boy.
He shuffles his feet, and all eyes are on him, and he has to speak he has to. He’s here. It’s important. He hasn’t been asked a question, but the other homeless people didn’t hurt him for talking, so. It’s a risk he’s going to have to take.
“Uh,” He says, voice small and eyes darting around the room, “Where’s - I mean. Where’s Five?”
“What do you mean where’s Five?” Klaus exclaims, looking confused. Everyone is looking confused.
“I want - uh, I’d like to meet him. If he’s here.” The Boy stumbles, and he knows it’s a misstep to says words like want and like but it’s the truth.
The scarred man has slowly put his hand to the knives still strapped to his body, looking especially alert. It kind of makes the Boy want to run in the opposite direction, “Are you saying you aren’t Five?”
“He jumped from the car!” Klaus protests, looking from a single point in thin air to the Boy and back again. Which means that Five can also jump? The idea that someone else has the exhilarating and terrifying ability to jump is somehow an incredible relief to the Boy. He’s not alone. Klaus looks the Boy directly in the eye with an intensity that has the Boy’s eyes darting away, “Are you having an episode right now?”
A few people at the table nod their heads as if agreeing but that’s not what the Boy wants. He’s so close. He shuffles his feet again.
“I’m - I’m sorry. For not telling you at the station.” He finally offers, “Detective Patch called me Five, and then she called you, and just - please.” The sorry made them look alarmed but it’s the please that really gets everyone attention and Diego has drawn a knife that he holds loosely in his hand.
There’s a flash of blue off to the side and suddenly the Boy is looking in a mirror and his mirror image stiffens in alarm. Another small flash and his doppelganger has a knife in his hand as well, face twisted into a snarl.
“Who the hell are you?” The boy who must be Five bites out.
The Boy’s eyes dart around the room. Everyone’s standing now, moving automatically to stand behind Five, recognizing him as the real deal.
“I’m - I’m the Boy.” The Boy says, and the fact that all of the faces react in a weird way make the Boy wonder what that’s all about. “I think - I think you’re my brother?”
Well that sets the cat among the chickens.
It takes a while, but eventually they all gather in the living room and the Boy is sat on one of the comfortable couches and Five is across from him peppering him with questions.
“You - you came from the Commission, too, right?” The Boy interrupts hesitantly.
Five frowns, “Sort of. Not in the way you did, I imagine. I worked for the Commission.”
The Boy nods, and pulls out the picture that he kept. The one with security footage and the very first inkling that he might not be so terribly alone in the world. Five plucks the picture out of his hands, and the Boy pretends it doesn’t give him anxiety.
“The report said status: unknown.” The Boy tells Five as if he doesn’t already know, but the nerves keep the words coming. “Which means - which meant you didn’t die. They always told me I was the only one that survived but - but they lied! You’re here! You’re like me!”
“I don’t understand.” The big man - Luther, apparently - says, crossing his arms. The Boy almost forgot he was there for a moment (stupid) and flinches. “Where did the new Five come from?”
Five shrugs, “Alternate timeline, maybe? Steal me as a baby and raise me as a Commission weapon?”
The Boy blinks. Does Five not know? Not know they were grown in a lab? Maybe Five never knew about the possibility of siblings?
“The Scientists grew us.” He tells the man, because if he has more information then he has to share it. “The - The DNA was uh, unstable though. ‘Cause of the jumping. So they kept failing. Except then they succeeded! They said I was the only success but they lied.”
There’s a heavy silence in the room.
It’s broken by Five, who looks at the Boy with a sort of softness that the Boy gets the feeling isn’t all that common.
“They didn’t lie.” He tells the boy softly, as if he isn’t dismantling the Boy’s entire world view. “You said they had DNA, right? That DNA had to come from somewhere, right?”
The Boy processes that, and suddenly he can’t believe he was so stupid. Of course he had to come from somewhere. There had to be an original. And the Handler’s comments about five point two make a stupid amount of sense.
“But - ” The Boy stutters, shoulders hunching, “But your name is Five? That’s an experiment name.”
There’s some kind of reaction going on in the background, but the Boy only has eyes for Five, his - his original?
Five just nods, “I wasn’t a Commission experiment, but the man who took me and raised me - he didn’t think of me as a person, either. And when I worked for the Commission, they were - interested in my abilities.”
So the Commission stole an experiment. Tried to recreate an experiment they didn’t own. The Boy was a copy of something that wasn’t supposed to belong to the Commission in the first place.
“I came from you.” The Boy says, slowly, looking at his feet as he turns the thought around in his head. “Does - does that make us... still family?”
There’s a heavy silence.
It makes the Boy nervous enough to just blurt out his thoughts. “I don’t - I don’t want to go back! They’re scared of you. Please, I won’t bother anybody - you won’t even know I’m here, I promise.”
Because that report had told the agents to be wary, to be careful, to not cross Number Five. The Commission didn’t mess with Five, and if the Boy stayed close then that meant they probably wouldn’t try get him back, right?
Suddenly there’s a weight next to him and an arm slung over his shoulder and he’s still as a board as he whips his head to look around at - Klaus?
“Aw kid,” Klaus coos at him, and even though the proximity is weird it’s also kind of nice? Klaus squeezes his arm and for some reason it doesn’t feel like a threat. “We’re not gonna make you go back, right guys?” Everyone mumbles their agreement, though Five stays silent.
“You’re Five-o’s clone, right? And if Five’s family that automatically gives you a free pass as family as well!” Klaus grins, “I know you only expected one sibling, but mi familia es su familia, ey?”
And somehow, that’s that. It’s agreed that the Boy gets to stay and there’s a flurry of activity and somehow throughout it all Five sticks around just enough to ease a little bit of the Boy’s anxiety.
It’s not going to solve the Commission problem, and every time the Boy brings up something about his life at the Commission or is confused about something mundane the family’s heart break a little bit more, but honestly their entire family existence has been a wild roller coaster of a ride so this might as well happen
and if Five is furious enough at the highkey violation of getting an unauthorized clone and decided that maybe it’s time once and for all to get rid of the Commission well. Dismantling a shady government organization is practically what passes for family bonding to them all, right?
#for some reason my shower brain was stuck on the thought of a clone of five#maybe bc of the robot five au where i mentioned about him hiding his robot-ness bc a Commission with a fleet of Five's is terrifying#so here's an au about a clone five#who is raised by the Commission to be the perfect weapon#who eventually defects because trying to find family is basically written in his DNA#just a whole baby who just wanted one family member and ended up with seven#Klaus: does this mean five's a dad#Five: technically we have the same genetic material. he's my twin.#Allison: regardless of anything he needs a PROPER NAME#i feel like the boy ends up being close to Klaus#bc Klaus provides hugs#and the Boy doesn't really know what hugs are per se but they feel really nice#Klaus: lmao y'all have fun wrecking the commission i'm gonna sit on the couch and eat cheetos#the boy: i don't know what a hug is#klaus: actually you know what it's time to take the commission the fuck DOWN let's DO THIS i have DYNAMITE#tbh the family probably do end up putting the boy on a more claire level of family#'smol child related to us: to be protected and loved'#tua#the umbrella academy#tua au#five hargreeves#number five#klaus hargreeves#diego hargeeves#the handler#the commission#the commission boy au
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So What was He to Do? (Fair Game; V7 CH11 Spoilers)
"Ironwood’s declaring Martial Law and abandoning Mantle! Salem is coming and he’s going to use the staff to move Atlas. If we don’t stop him, then Mantle’s going to be dest-"
Everything is falling apart. Clover needs to make a decision.
AO3 Link
(This is my first ever fic so hopefully it’s not unbearable. Fair Game rights.)
“Martial law? But…”
Robyn’s voice rang out in the silence of the transport.
“He can’t just abandon the people of Mantle like this! The evacuation isn’t complete, there’s no way we can save everyone in time. I thought he understood that we need to work together!”
Her fist collided with the wall beside her. Clover could feel her violet eyes cutting into him.
He shook his head as he cast his gaze up, “...I don’t...this is…”
Beside him, Tyrian giggled to himself as he observed the scene.
“We agreed that the best way to go about stopping Salem was to unite, but I suppose that was a lie, wasn’t it?” Robyn hissed.
She refused to take her eyes off the Ace Op, but Clover hardly heard her. He searched Qrow’s eyes for a sign of understanding, or a hint of confusion, even fear. Hell, he’d take anger if it meant he’d know what was going on in his head, but all he found was suspicion. Qrow didn’t know what to think of him, and that hurt more than anything else.
Clover tended to pride himself on his loyalty. He saw it as a strength and an important trait to have in a position like his. Yet, as his world seemed to fall apart around him, he couldn’t help but question the general’s judgement. From his first days in the academy, a time that seemed so far away, he had sworn to protect the people. That’s what a huntsman did, protect and serve the good people of Remnant from the Grimm that threatened them daily. As an Ace Operative, his job was to assist in doing what was best for the citizens of Atlas and Mantle, under the command of General Ironwood. So, what was he to do when the general’s interests and the people’s interests conflicted on such a large scale?
It was easy to believe that the supplies for Mantle would, in the end, be better used for Amity. It was for the benefit of everyone, even if the payoff was not immediate. It was even easier to believe that the general had shifted his perspective on how to defeat Salem’s forces. To think everything was under control, that they would succeed as well as they had, was foolish on his part. At least, that’s how he felt at the moment. Even more troubling, Clover was finding it difficult to believe that the general was making the right choice.
To abandon the people he swore to protect would defy everything he stood for.
“We’re almost to Atlas.” Qrow spoke.
He, too, refused to look away from Clover.
Clover looked out the window of the cockpit and, for the first time in a long time, he felt the tendrils of dread begin to wrap around him. He was not stupid. He understood that he would have to make some sort of choice upon arrival. If Ruby’s tone and the sudden ending of her message was anything to go by, he had a feeling the general was not on the former students’ side. Not only that, but by declaring martial law, the other Ace Ops must be aware of the situation. They were surely at the general’s side. So where did that leave him and his fellow passengers?
“My, my, my. Looks like someone has a decision to make. I personally can’t wait to see what becomes of you all.”
Tryian’s sadistic laughter filled the confined space as the small group felt the airship begin to descend.
Should he ignore the general’s incoming command, he would be defecting from his post and become a traitor to the Atlesian military. He would be abandoning everything he had worked so tirelessly for. Everything he had would crumble in an instant.
And yet, should he follow the general’s lead, he would have to allow the deaths of countless men, women, and children. He would tear up the foundations he built himself upon. He would ruin the fresh and fragile trust between himself and Qrow.
Qrow, who he so desperately wanted to know more about. Qrow, who has shown him a resilience and bravery that so many others fail to achieve. A man who has been dealt the worst possible cards in life. A man with a heart of gold but who lacked the capacity to see just how incredible he really was. Qrow Branwen. The renowned yet lonely huntsman. The missing piece in Clover’s life. His complementary. His partner. His friend.
The airship touched down. Through the window, Robyn took notice of the extra guards approaching the landing pad.
“Clover.”
His name, spoken so softly, was enough to send the full reality of the situation crashing down on him.
He furrowed his brows, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly, “I can’t.”
Qrow inhaled sharply. He could see the hurt in those lovely red eyes. He wondered if Qrow could see the storm behind his as it began to shift. He made his decision.
The cabin doors slid open. Two of the five guards seized Tyrian, while the other three looked to Clover expectantly.
He stood, glancing down at the still seated huntsman and huntress before him.
Taking a deep breath, he addressed the guards, “There’s no need for the extra assistance. We’re on our way to speak with the general.”
He hoped he looked as collected as he sounded. If not, the guards refused to mention it, and instead chose to nod and head off.
The Ace Op stepped out of the cabin. He looked back at his fellow huntsmen.
“Well, we better not keep the general waiting.” He nodded.
Sparing a glance between each other, the two followed him away from the landing site.
They walked in silence, each of them caught up in their own thoughts. Clover marched ahead, his hands clenched tightly at his side. The entrance of the academy was swarming with students and military personnel. They entered the building with little interference.
What was waiting for them in Jame’s office? Was he even there? Where were the other teams. Where was his? Thoughts swirled in his head, almost dizzyingly so.
A hand on his shoulder brought him to a halt.
“Clover, what’s going on.” Qrow’s brows furrowed ever so slightly.
“We’re going to talk to Ironwood. If he’s instituting martial law, we need to know why.”
Robyn crossed her arms; her brow arched. “We? You say that as if you won’t hand us over the second we get to Ironwood.”
“I-”
“Who’s side are on? Because I’m not going anywhere else until I know for sure that this isn’t some ploy to get us out of the way.” Her eyes narrowed.
He turned to Qrow, whose eyes hardened. He felt sick.
“Qrow I promise you- both of you- that I’m with you. I wish I understood everything that’s going on, but I don’t. What I do know, is that we can’t afford to make things worse for ourselves than they already are. As far as I’m concerned, the general hasn’t given any orders to me. Not yet. We need to try to get him to hold off on them.”
He looked back to Robyn. No one dared move.
Qrow tilted his head forward, “How do we know that?”
“Qrow please-”
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re on our side. Tell me that you’re with us.”
“I understand how this all must look, but please believe me when I say that I-”
“You know, a lot of people promised me that in the past. Ozpin, James,-” the other man paused, his gaze faltered for a brief moment- “my old teammates. One way or another, they all broke that promise. Some of them lied or went back on it, and some of them...some of them just...left.”
As he walked toward Clover, his eyes began to glisten.
“So, I need you to understand that I when I ask you to look me in the eyes and swear to me that you mean it, I do it because I can’t take another lie, Clover. I just can’t. I trusted you, and I want to keep trusting you, but I need to know that it’s not a mistake to do so.”
Green eyes softened, taking in the serious, desperate ones in front of him.
“I swear to you, Qrow, that I am with you. Things are falling apart, I know. But I would never want to break your trust. I need you, and I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”
“If that’s the case, you wouldn’t mind letting me use my semblance then?” Robyn eyed him.
Clover paused, his gaze shifting from her hand to her face. Sighing, he extended his hand. Robyn took it without hesitation.
“I’ll ask again. Whose side are you on?”
“My duty is to the people of Atlas and Mantle. That’s where my loyalty lies. I swore I’d do everything I could to protect them and the people I care for the most. I’m with you.”
The huntress sighed as she let go of his hand. She’d accepted the answer much easier now.
Clover turned back to a wide-eyed Qrow and offered a soft smile.
“Like I said, I need you. Now more than ever.”
Qrow blinked a couple times before taking a deep breath. He smiled back, his shoulders becoming a little more lax.
Placing his hand back on the Ace Op’s shoulder, he nodded.
“Ok. What’s the plan.”
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Parks and Recreation: The actual enneagram types of Leslie, Ron, Tom, April, Andy, Donna, Ben, Chris, and Jerry
The Protagonist: Leslie Knope [Type 3]
“I am big enough to admit that I am often inspired by myself.”
Enneagram Wing: 3w2 (Achiever along with a helper)
"I care. I care a lot. It's kinda my thing."
Core Fear: Being exposed as or thought incompetent, inefficient, or worthless; failing to be or appear successful
Core Desire: Having high status and respect, being admired, successful, and valuable
Leslie feels her purpose is to make the world a better place, specifically Pawnee, since this is the place she holds dear to her heart and is the most reachable for her. Her identity is defined by her work and her drive and passion are what allow her to continue to move up the latter. She takes rejection and set backs hard, however, she always gets back up and continues to move forward to reach her goals. Her influence shapes the hearts and minds of her coworkers. She inspires them to be better people and to find what they are meant to do in life and do it. Along with her go-getter attitude, she goes above and beyond for her friends (2) and they greatly appreciate her care and efforts. As for her childhood wound, she has described her mother as cold and withholding so we can only assume that she received praise and attention only from the achievements she made. Her mother also works in government and only respects those with an assertive and dominant presence.
The Sensible Friend: Ann Perkins [Type 6]
“As Leslie’s maid of honor, I really need her bachelorette party to go well, which is why I’m stress eating gummy penises.”
Enneagram wing: 6w7 (Loyalist along with an enthusiast)
“I’m putting myself out there, meeting some new people, having some causal fun, and it’s awkward.”
Core Fear: Fearing fear itself, being without support, security, or guidance; being blamed, targeted, alone, or physically abandoned
Core Desire: Having security, guidance, and support
Ann is by far the most sensible character. She is the person everyone knows they can rely on. Andy unfortunately took advantage of this quality resulting in her becoming his caretaker rather than remaining an equal. Leslie appreciates her sensibility and this is what makes them such great friends. However, Leslie can trigger Ann’s already existing anxiety from her high expectations and good intentioned pushy behavior. Another side of the coin of is her fear of ending up alone. She is constantly dating and even settles a few times to avoid loneliness. It is when she takes the time to be single and soothes this fear that she and Chris end up together. Ann also has an adventurous streak. She likes to go out and have a good time. She just sometimes needs a little push from Chris, Leslie, or Donna.
The True Introvert: Ron Swanson [Type 5]
“That is a canvas sheet, the most versatile object known to man. It can be used to make tents, backpacks, shoes, stretchers, sails, tarpaulins, and I suppose, in the most dire of circumstances, it can be a surface on which to make art.”
Enneagram wing: 5w4|5w6 (Balanced)
“Don’t start chasing applause and acclaim. That way lies madness.”
Core Fear: Being annihilated, invaded, or not existing; being thought incapable or ignorant; having obligations placed upon you or your energy being completely depleted
Core Desire: Being capable and competent
Ron is an intellect, constantly going off on philosophical tangents about the corrupt ways of government, effective life hacks, and flawed human nature. He believes there is only one way to do things and his ways of going about things are very unique to himself (4). He is a non-conformist. He loves learning new things and adding to his craft. He is a breakfast and wood enthusiast. Ron is quite guarded and withdrawn from the world and prefers this. His childhood wound is that his mother was intrusive and over-controlling so we can assume he felt exposed and defenseless. This followed Ron in adulthood as he had many toxic relationships with women similar to her. Thus, Ron feels he is best served to live in isolation and fend for himself, as well as, rely on cerebral means rather than emotional means. Ron demonstrates his wing 6 with his desire to be safe and have security.
The Entrepreneur: Tom Haverford [Type 3]
“At the risk bragging, one of the things I’m best at is riding coattails. Behind every successful man is me, smiling and taking partial credit.
Enneagram wing: 3w4 (Achiever along with an individualist)
“‘Zerts’ are what I call desserts. ‘Trée-trées’ are entrées. I call sandwiches ‘sammies,’ ‘sandoozles,’ or ‘Adam Sandlers.’ Air conditioners are ‘cool blasterz’ with a ‘z’ — I don’t know where that came from. I call cakes ‘big ol’ cookies.’ I call noodles ‘long-ass rice.’ Fried chicken is ‘fry-fry chicky-chick.’ Chicken parm is ‘chicky-chicky-parm-parm.’ Chicken cacciatore? ‘Chicky-cacc.’ I call eggs ‘pre-birds,’ or ‘future birds.’ Root beer is ‘super water.’ Tortillas are ‘bean blankets.’ And I call forks ‘food rakes.’”
Core Fear: Being exposed as or thought incompetent, inefficient, or worthless; failing to be or appear successful
Core Desire: Having high status and respect, being admired, successful, and valuable
Tom measures his entire worth from his successes and failures. He is extremely creative and is constantly coming up with unique ideas to form a successful business.
The Misanthrope: April Ludgate [Type 4]
“I wasn’t listening but I strongly disagree.”
Enneagram wing: 4w5 (Individualist along with investigator)
“If you ever speak me to me in Spanish please use the formal “usted”.
Core Fear: Being inadequate, emotionally cut off, plain, mundane, defective, flawed, or insignificant
Core Desire: Being unique, special, and authentic
April portrays major apathy but it’s clearly done to hide her genuine care and insecurity. She wants to be unique and special, thus overdoing it with her quirky, odd, eccentric, nonconformist talk and lifestyle. Her speech and way of behaving is an oxymoron. She deep down wants what everyone else wants: real love, real friendship, and a successful career. As she grows up and matures, she moves further away from her exaggerated dark persona to a normal expressive, mature adult. However, she adds in whatever she needs to to maintain her individuality. April also values cerebral pursuits shown in her getting accepted to an exceptional veterinary school. Her wing 5 is what helps her identify with so much with Ron.
The Charming Goofball: Andy Dwyer [Type 9]
“It’s fine. It’s just that life is pointless and nothing matters and I’m always tired.”
Enneagram wing: 9w8 (Peacemaker along with the challenger)
“I’m not crying. I’m just allergic to jerks!”
Core Fear: Being in conflict, tension, or discord; feeling shut out and overlooked; losing connection and relationship with others
Core Desire: Having inner stability and peace of mind
The epitome of Andy’s character is his easy-going nature. He is also very caring and thoughtful. He rarely ever voices if anything is bothering him and we see him go through great lengths to end any conflict between he and April. He attempts to make things right with Ann after their break up but doesn’t succeed. Andy possess a child-like mindset and view of the world and this is what seems to serve as a coping skill for the trials and tribulations of life. This also makes him endearing and what makes him perfect for April as she holds a similar mentality.
The Nerd: Ben Wyatt [Type 1]
“I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are. Actually, it’s going to bug me if I don’t.”
Enneagram wing: 1w9 (Reformer along with peacemaker)
“Stick to the list and you’ll do great. I have total faith in you... (there’s like a 30% chance they’ll both die.)”
Core Fear: Being wrong, bad, evil, inappropriate, unredeemable, or corruptible
Core Desire: Having integrity, being good, balanced, accurate, virtuous, and right
Ben is straightforward and willing to tell the truth, even if it could offend someone. He likes things to be in order. He often feels like the odd one out in the parks department because he values principles and professionalism while his colleagues behave inappropriately. He admires Leslie for her quirky professionalism. Ben also desires a peaceful environment and will keep quiet about things bothering him resulting in passive aggressive behavior.
The Optimist: Chris Traeger [Type 7]
“The world is my gymnasium, Ron.”
Enneagram wing: 7w6 (Enthusiast along with loyalist)
“I am 100% certain that I am 0% sure of what I’m going to do.”
Core Fear: Being deprived, trapped in emotional pain, limited, or bored; missing out on something fun
Core Desire: Being happy, fully satisfied, and content
Chris is extremely positive all the time to cover up his true inner turmoil. He had a tough childhood and coped with the trauma by avoiding the negative emotions and putting his focus on his health. Thus he became a health nut. In the field of clinical psychology, he would most likely be diagnosed with orthorexia. Chris has a lot of anxiety about life and desires to feel a sense of safety in his life and relationships, thus making him fall into the wing 6. He desires the guidance and support from others (he started seeing a counselor 5 times a week during his depressive episode).
The Minx: Donna Meagle [Type 8]
“You better watch yourself.”
Enneagram wing: 8w7 (Challenger along with enthusiast)
“Treat yourself.”
Core Fear: Being weak, powerless, harmed, controlled, vulnerable, manipulated, and left at the mercy of injustice
Core Desire: Protecting yourself and those in your inner circle
Donna is the epitome of “an independent black woman who don’t need no man.” She essentially dos onto others what she fears they will do onto her. Thus, she manipulates and abuses vulnerable men to get what she wants and then leaves them. We can assume that something happened in her childhood that resulted in this relationship pattern. She discusses her grandma dying while having a threesome so this behavior was certainly model for her. She falls on the 7 wing for her enjoyment of life's greatest pleasures.
The Target: Jerry Gergich [Type 9]
“So I go by Terry now. They already had a Larry in the Parks department, and they suggested that they change my name to Terry. I told them my real name was Garry, and they said ‘who cares?’ What a fun bunch of guys.”
Enneagram wing: 9w1 (Peacemaker along with reformer)
“Well, you know it's like I always say 'it ain't government work if you don't have to do it twice.”
Core Fear: Being in conflict, tension, or discord; feeling shut out and overlooked; losing connection and relationship with others
Core Desire: Having inner stability and peace of mind
Jerry is clearly a peacemaker in that he keeps his mouth shut despite his constant abuse from his colleagues at the parks department. He identifies with Andy in that Tom was trying to dub him as the new office target due to his similar easygoing nature and clumsiness. He shows that he is a wing 1 in his values of goodness and morality.
#parcs and rec#enneatypes#enneagram 3#enneagram 4#enneagram 1#enneagram 5#enneagram 6#enneagram 7#enneagram 8#enneagram 9#enneagram types#1w9#3w2#3w4#4w5#5w4#5w6#6w7#7w6#8w7#9w8#9w1#parks and recreation#leslie knope#ron swanson#ann perkins#ben wyatt#andy dwyer#april ludgate#tom haverford
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Whispers in the Dark - The Slayers Fanfic
Warnings: none (I suppose)
Beta: @naiokiara <3 (this girl is a treasure)
Chapter 3
Of the group of adventurers, Princess Amelia first appeared downstairs, as always with a broad smile on her delicate face, and stretching her body happily.
“Good morning!” she waved to the innkeeper and two still-a-little-sleepy waitresses. “Birds are singing with the first rays of sun and there is not a single cloud in the sky. The day is SO BEAUTIFUL, I want to dance and… Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Xellos!” The dark-haired girl finally noticed a very sour expression on the Mazoku's face, as her positive energy literally filled up the room. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“No hard feelings, Miss Amelia.,” The demon almost immediately returned to his usual innocent and polite smile, already tasting the sweet flavour of regret from the princess. The poor girl was so pure and good that she was even worried about how her happy attitude could be unpleasant for a Monster. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. I assume the others still aren’t up? They are missing such a wonderful morni-” She bit her tongue at Xellos’ eyebrow’s twitch; “Oh… I mean, Miss Filia will be angry that we still aren’t on our way.”
The demon’s face was now literally angelic. “She tried to wake you all up by knocking on the doors, but I decided my friends deserve good rest… so I have thrown a silencing spell on your rooms, so that no one could disturb you. I suggested that Miss Filia take a refreshing walk meanwhile.”
“And what did she say?” Amelia took her seat on the other side of the table.
“Should I omit filthy words?”
“Of course!”
“Then she said nothing," Xellos took a sip of tea.
“Hello there,” Gourry joined them, yawning like he was ready to swallow them for breakfast. Zelgadis was just behind him, visibly not happy with the fact the Mazoku was still here.
"What has happened, Xellos? Aren’t there people other than us whose existence you can poison with your presence?" The chimera sat next to Amelia, as far away from the Monster as was possible. Even after so long, he wasn't very fond of the demon. The fact that in the past Xellos burned, with his eyes, a precious manuscript that may have contained a remedium for Zelgadis’ cursed look (the Mazoku insisted there wasn’t any useful knowledge, but could the word of a demon be worth anything?) still burnt Zel painfully.
"I couldn't deny myself such a delicious breakfast as your helpless anger, Mr. Zelgadis," said Xellos, with a voice sweeter than chocolate, looking at the chimera with slightly more open eyes in a way that forced Zelgadis to move uneasily in place. He snorted and waved for a waitress if only to break eye contact with the demon, but halfway to their table the girl was attacked by Lina, who practically yanked the menu from her hands.
“Those five things! Double portions!” She ordered, pointing at the card.
“But maybe your friends would like to choose by themselves, Miss?” the waitress mumbled, overwhelmed with the sorceress' confidence.
“You understood me wrong. It’s only for me. I’m starving!” Lina passed her and placed herself on a free chair between Xellos and Gourry.
The blonde swordsman waved. “I want the same! Lina always chooses the best dishes!”
“Sorry about them,” Amelia sighed, a little embarrassed, taking menus for herself and Zelgadis.
“Where is Filia?” Lina finally counted her group and gave Xellos a very suspicious look. “Did you eat her?”
“Golden dragon scales are hard to digest even for me,” The demon answered with a nasty smirk. “Don’t worry so much about her, Miss Lina.”
“I’m not worried about her. I’m worried about my breakfast. Filia is the one who pays our bills. If you did something to her-” The sorceress tried to throw a proper threat, but then she reminded herself who this man at her side was. “-you’d better have enough coin in your pouch, because I am ready to eat everything that isn’t fast enough to run away.”
Xellos sent her a smile. “So I assume you did rest well, Miss Lina. The proper relaxation after a hard day can be incredibly effective.”
The sorceress blushed a little, knowing the second layer in the demon’s words. A fast peek at her friends: Gourry was napping with his head resting on his arms on the table and Zelgadis studied the menu with Amelia, probably happy that Lina’s presence meant that he wasn’t any longer the centre of Xellos’ attention.
“I have a slight headache.” The witch tried not to show her unease, and a thousand questions had been buzzing in her head from the moment she had awakened. The number of holes in her memory seriously worried her. She remembered bathing, talking with Xellos, and the massage of his long skillful fingers on her feet. And later he entered her head. What had he done to her? She had awakened in her bed wearing a nightgown.
“I only presented you with the offer, but it was a little too much for your mind and body, so you lost consciousness in the bathtub,” whispered the demon calmingly. “I took care of you.”
“Don’t read my thoughts!” she snapped at him, suddenly panicked about what might have happened when she was blacked out.
“I don’t, and I can’t, do that. Reading thoughts is impossible even for Mazoku.” The Trickster Priest sounded offended. “But your emotions are behaving like scared wild horses, Miss Lina. I assure you, I didn’t do anything inappropriate to you. I didn’t even take peeks.” Not too many, anyway, he ended in his mind.
Lina’s face was at the moment far redder than her hair, however, she somehow knew he wasn’t lying to her. Probably indeed better he had transported her to bed rather than leaving her in the cold water where she might even have drowned.
This is like ending up playing games with Mazoku, the witch realized sourly. She’d let him get into her head not knowing the consequences and he had touched her naked body, even if he wasn’t interested in using the opportunity.
“My, my, Miss Lina! Are you really so disappointed nothing more has happened?” Asked a surprised Xellos, his smile wider with every second, making the sorceress feel the blood flow away from her face. If she only could block his empathic skills.
“I am NOT!” she hissed through teeth, however they both knew it was a lie.
Xellos’ smug smile made her want to punch him or do anything else that could make this handsome face not so handsome anymore.
Suddenly she felt a touch on the inner side of her palm under the table, tickling like someone was brushing fingertips against her skin. Lina froze, seeing that both of Xellos’ hands were actually busy holding a teacup. Who said that human-shaped hands were the only ones the Mazoku had, and that the shadow under the table was just an ordinary lack of light, not a living darkness? The sorceress cringed.
“If you are so interested in more naughty games, we can discuss the conditions of my offer again, Miss Lina,” purred Xellos… and sighed heavily, as Lina had hit his teacup from below, so the warm beverage was now pouring off of his face. “My bad. I guess you need time to rethink the idea. One more tea, please.” The demon asked the waitress with an apologetic smile, wiping up his face with a cloth the woman quickly had offered him.
***
It was late evening the same day when Lina thought (not for the first time) that Filia and Xellos in one place were a greater threat to the world than a gathering of all four Dark Lords created by the Lord of Nightmares.
The group had ended up camping in the desert because of an embarrassing adventure.
"It is all your fault, you cockroach! You raw garbage! You… you!" Filia's anger finally burnt off and she just drowned in tears, while Xellos’ face was literally a visualisation of the sentence: This time it really (almost) wasn’t my fault! “My dignity has been destroyed! I hate you! Hate you! Hate you!!!”
Amelia massaged the dragoness’ back, pleading with her eyes for Lina's help, but the sorceress could barely suppress her own rage. Her dreams about a cosy room and tasty supper had literally turned into ashes… in Filia’s dragon breath.
"Enough of that! Go sleep! All of you! Gourry, Zel, make a small campfire," she ordered, and something in her voice made the swordsman and the shaman obey without further questions. "I'm taking the first watch near those rocks. Xellos, you are going with me! If I don’t keep you far away from Filia, I will go insane soon!”
“Don’t blame me just because I’m a Mazoku.” The demon followed the redhead girl. “It was all her own fault! She destroyed the town. Filia was the one who chose our path this morning.”
Lina massaged her temples, trying to get rid of her murderous impulses, remembering the quarrel between the monster and dragoness about which way to choose. Xellos’ choice had been definitely rejected by Filia… only because it was a Mazoku’s proposition. Filia was stubborn to a crazy degree, so finally the group had followed her lead and they had reached a nice town.
A wonderful place except one, but important, defect.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell her that dragons aren’t allowed to enter there when she chose that damn path?” Lina yelled at the demon with so much anger that Xellos took a small step back.
“Do you really think she would have believed me? Some people, even dragons, have to burn themselves a little to learn from their own mistakes.”
“But it is MY ass that will freeze now in the desert all night! And you had chosen the right, safe path only because you KNEW she would be in opposition to you. You planned it, didn’t you?”
A smug smile and a light shrug were all from Xellos’ side.
“You aren’t even pretending to be sorry.” Lina sat heavily on sand, leaning her back against one of the rocks.
“Pretending something like that would be an offence to you, Miss Lina. You and I know each other well enough to abandon some false games. Besides, no one there knew Miss Filia was a dragon, but Valgaav’s minions appeared and told that to people in town. She was jailed and they were ready to execute her. Luckily a big bad Mazoku - Me! - appeared to piss the golden dragon off enough that she freed herself from the chains. I was a hero!” He pointed at his own chest happily.
“Filia literally leveled the town to the ground trying to catch you in her rage, you asshole!” Lina ran her palm across her face, tired, knowing the demon definitely had too much fun with this story.
Even from afar the sorceress still could hear the Priestess of Light’s whining:
“I destroyed the town! How embarrassing! What a shame! If only that devil hadn’t provoked me to change into my dragon form!”
“The other outcome would have been you bringing her severed head to the Flare Dragon King’s Temple,” reminded Xellos, sitting low by Lina’s side, to disappear from Filia’s sight. “Don’t worry. People there were fast enough to survive. They will rebuild the town and this time they will be sure to put there also a giant sign: Seriously! Dragons aren’t allowed to enter here.” He burst out with a loud laugh. “Did you see Valgaav’s minions' faces? ‘Oh dear, she REALLY is a dragon’, " the demon parodied the surprised tone of Gravos and Jillas, who hadn’t run quickly enough, and the impact of Filia’s tail had catapulted them high in the air.
Finally Lina chuckled too. Yes, maybe that view had been worth a night under a starry sky, here in the middle of desert. She would have paid to see Valgaav’s face when his servants gave him the report. Anyway, whatever Xellos did, the sorceress just wasn’t able to be angry with him for too long. This damn monster always knew the ways to distract her.
The air was cooler and cooler. The heat of day in such a place quickly changed into cold night, and Lina embraced herself tighter with her black coat.
In the camp, Filia finally got quiet, and one peek told the sorceress that the exhausted dragoness had fallen asleep cuddling herself up to Amelia. Gourry was already snoring near the fire. Zelgadis also was preparing for rest.
Lina inhaled deeply, enjoying the quiet and peace. Xellos’ side was warm and sheltered her from the wind, so she allowed herself to relax a little.
“You can rest too, Miss Lina. I will keep guard.” The velvet demon’s tone made the witch snort.
“I’m on watch also to keep an eye on you, Mr. Evil,” she noted, patting his nose sympathetically. “What if you sneak up to Filia and fill her sleep with nightmares?”
“Miss Lina, don’t give me such delicious ideas. Now how could I resist that?” His white teeth flashed in a grin, and Lina answered with her own bright smile, before she rested her head on his shoulder, sighing heavily.
Xellos was surprised with that sudden show of trust, so he reached his senses into Lina’s aura to check it. The demon suspected she was too tired to be fully on guard, or maybe she believed that their agreement about cooperation against Valgaav was valid. Her feelings confused him a little. The sorceress was tired, of course, but Lina had simply sought his closeness because… she was accepting him as one of her tribe. There was neither embarrassment in her now, nor hostility. Only uncertainty. She was far away from home. These were unknown lands, and Filia was also a stranger to her, unlike Xellos. The Mazoku was something familiar to Lina. She knew he was dangerous as hell and that she can’t believe him, but… somehow he was hers, a stable part of reality, from her point of view.
Xellos considered how to use the new situation to his advantage, but finally he also let himself to put aside his mischievous nature and enjoyed the unusual atmosphere. In this fight between him and Filia over Lina, he was winning at the moment, and the art of manipulation sometimes demanded patience.
“I’m glad you are again with us, Xellos.” The girl’s murmur confirmed what the demon had concluded from her emotions. “Like in the good old good day.” She was observing stars, but her mind was somewhere else. “So many adventures behind us. This town today reminded me of when we snuck into the city where only ladies were allowed to enter and we forced you, boys, to dress like women,” she chuckled, covering her face in his blouse.
“I remember. Mr. Zelgadis as 'Miss Lulu' was quite popular there. I can recall the taste of his embarrassment.”
“And poor Gourry. Till this day he shivers when he sees a pink dress.” Lina wiped away a tear of joy. “Not to mention you. Martina said later that she had to hide you from others’ eyes because of how sexy you were in that red outfit. With what did you fill those false boobs, huh?”
“Who said they were false?”
Lina choked in the middle of laughing on her own breath and looked at the demon in disbelief.
“Nooooo… Seriously?” she blinked.
“Mazoku don’t have males or females,” the priest winked at her. “Being a shapeless darkness which can take preferred form has many advantages. But I am the most used to the male vessel I have now.”
“That explains those perfect hips in that red dress too. How many convenient secrets do you have, you beast?” Lina enjoyed the new fact to the point that she was biting the fabric of Xellos’ coat so as to not awake her friends with laughter.
“As many as I need. I am always open to new experiences. Even those including your lovely but sharp teeth. Do you remember that my clothes are part of me?”
Lina immediately straightened her back and cleared her throat. It was quite dark despite the stars and the faint light of the nearby campfire, but the Mazoku’s eyes could easily notice a deep blush on her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, but then shivered when, away from his closeness, cold attacked her fragile body. In the next moment she found herself in the previous position as the demon wrapped her shoulders with his arm, pulling her to his warm side. Lina stopped breathing when she felt how that which looked like his “coat” moved itself too, covering her tightly.
“We don’t want you to change into an icicle, do we?” Hypnotizing amethyst eyes with vertical pupils flashed a little too close for Lina’s preferences. “What is it? You have goosebumps? Just like then, in that doll tower. You were so scared there, because of that little horror story I’d told you all the evening before. Scared of ghosts, ha! If you could have known then that a real Mazoku was just next to you. What a silly adventure. I adore those times when you all didn’t know who I was and were acting so boldly. I remember Miss Martina protecting me, a poor victim, from the rage of cruel Lina Inverse.”
Lina’s stiffness slowly vanished as she noticed that Xellos is still in a talkative, rather harmless mood and she adjusted her position under his arm, looking for comfort, resting a cheek on his chest. Somehow it hit her a lot when she noticed the lack of a beating heart sound. Her brain reacted nervously to the conflict of expectations and reality.
“Oh, my apologies. Next to you, Miss Lina, I’m not so on guard about the human form in such detail. Take it as a compliment that I feel good with you.” The demon finally noticed her confusion, and a moment later, the girl caught the slight beating under her ear.
A cheater among cheaters, she rolled her eyes.
"Poor Martina, you broke her heart! She was so devastated when she discovered that her charming prince was a monster.” Lina still could feel the satisfaction from seeing the annoying princess of Xoana's face in the moment she had understood the awful truth about her chosen man.
"Miss Martina was so funny and delicious! And full of energy in many ways." The demon sighed dreamingly.
Lina raised her head to look at his face suspiciously.
"Did you and she… you know…"
Was there really a sparkle of jealousy in his redhead sorceress? "Curiosity killed the cat, Miss Lina.” The witch gasped, surprised, when she felt a light kiss on the tip of her nose, and she wrinkled it in a lovely way, ashamed by the cold feeling of wetness that his lips had left on her skin.
Lina suddenly became aware that most of the intimate moments in her life (all of them unplanned), she had experienced with Xellos, and it didn’t help her to feel better.
Him and his teasing games…
"I'm asking only from a scientific point of view." She added quickly. "I wondered if it was possible for your race to-"
"Engage in a sexual act?" Finished Xellos with a low voice that made the girl’s heart drum. He laughed quietly. "Some kinds of knowledge you have to earn." His fingers ran lazily through long red locks. "Mr. Zangulus was gifted with Miss Martina's innocence during their wedding night. It was not her who I am interested in."
The demon's words confused Lina more than everything else. It wasn't a clear declaration, she tried to convince herself, ignoring the tips of his nails gently caressing the skin of her head. The sorceress realized that his hand was bare again.
"So there is a woman you are interested in?" She asked, regretting it in the next moment.
"The fact it is a woman isn't important for me. Human mating rituals aren't natural for my kind."
Lina felt suddenly very uncomfortable. The creature next to her looked exactly like a human, but it was only an illusion. To be honest, the Mazoku race was a great mystery even for those who spent all their lives studying black magic. They were evil. They were darkness. And power. Especially power.
"What's happened, Miss Lina? I thought we are talking from… a scientific point of view?" The thumb on the arm he was using to embrace her body brushed her cheek. His cruel lips were smiling mockingly. Oh, how he was enjoying the moment of the storm of her emotions now: the desperate wish to withdraw from this embarrassing moment, to distance herself. And fear… yes, she was scared of him again.
"Yes." She mumbled with an offended tone. "Only from a scientific point of view."
The monster giggled, calmingly massaging the sorceress' shoulder to give her more warmth.
"From a scientific point of view humans aren't constructed to fly, but they do that using spells like Ray Wing or Levitation.” He pointed. "Mazoku don't need intimate acts to breed like humans, but… unknown terrains are always very tempting to explore. Am I not right?" He played with one of her red locks, slipping it among fingers.
"Enough of your seductive tricks," she tried to push him away, but it would be easier to move a mountain than Xellos’ arm.
"It wasn’t doing anything like that. Should I show you my seductive side, Miss Lina?" he whispered, grabbing her chin and pulling it up, so she looked straight into his gleaming demonic eyes. The sorceress became as if paralyzed, when she felt his breath on her own mouth. He smelled of black magic. She could easily recognize this scent, heavy but fresh, like thunder ready to strike a tree in an open field. "You awoke curiosity in me, and a curious Mazoku is rather hard to get rid of." His lips brushed against hers when he spoke. Suddenly it became definitely too hot for Lina. Growing panic took control over her and she reacted like always, with a burst of anger.
"Let me go, you awful…!" A mistake. In the moment she opened her mouth, his tongue slipped inside, teasing hers and withdrawing before she was able to bite him.
"Mmm… you are more delicious than I thought." The beast murmured huskily and then chuckled. "What’s with that terrified face? I was only teasing you."
Lina slapped his cheek.
"Oh, dear." He caught her wrists before she could hit him again. "Watch out, sweetling." Amethyst reptilian eyes started to glow delicately. "Violence is a language in which I am better versed than you."
Lina breathed fast, trying to fight down her own fury. Again he had done with her as he pleased. Monster!
The sorceress snorted, giving up. It wasn't possible to win with Xellos, so she sighed and laid her head back on his chest, observing stars and remaining silent. Soon his hand returned to caressing her hair.
She still could taste the flavour of him on the tip of her tongue. It was like little lightning, tickling her taste buds in a rather pleasant way. Lina wasn't able to compare it to any other taste she was familiar with. Slowly the sorceress calmed down.
"Asshole." She said, resisting licking her lips.
"And still you like me as I am, Miss Lina." He noted, sensing that the girl was now more amused by her own helplessness than angry with him.
"Oh, shut up." Lina yawned widely. It was too comfortable to lie like that by his side. Warmth, the softness of his clothes which weren't clothes, the soothing caresses of his fingers in her hair. She started to get sleepy.
Then she felt it. His aura brushed against hers in a delicate but demanding way.
"No way. Not again. I’ve had enough of that for now." She refused with a tired voice and Xellos withdrew his astral parts obediently.
"For now," he whispered, and kissed the forehead of the drifting girl. "There is always a new day, like you, humans, say."
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