#like the capabilities for it if he learnt to control it properly

[perfectharmonyloveschaos]

I'm curious if Atreus' animal forms will grow with him or are they already adults even if he transforms as a teenager? Because he was a huge fucking bear, like way larger than normal, and his wolf form definitely seems big enough.

[themourningfox]

Crosshair x GN!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive musings from reader about the Batchers' physiques. Jealous Crosshair.

Crosshair and you have a love/hate relationship.

You hated Crosshair.

Well, not really hate. To be completely honest, you had the biggest crush on the quiet sniper. You weren’t sure why, but it was something about his cool, stoic demeanor that pulled you in.

But damn. He was a pain in the ass sometimes.

Like right now.

“I had that shot!” Crosshair yelled at you, his lithe and lean form looming over you. His eyes were on fire with a deep-set rage that you had stoked.

Despite his intimidating stance, you refused to back down. Seething at the clone, you jabbed your finger into his chest. “You asshole! You know we’re not supposed to kill anyone in this mission. If you had shot them, you would’ve alerted the entire village.”

His hand snatched your wrist and squeezed. “If I had taken that shot,” he hissed, leaning down close to your face. “This mission would have been over already.”

“Actually,” Tech chimed in at this point. He didn’t seem to notice the pointed glares both you and Crosshair shot him for interrupting. “There was a guard around the corner. If Crosshair had shot the target, we would have been caught.”

You smirked. Wrenching your wrist out of Crosshair’s grasp, you shot him a sneer. You were right. You loved it when you were right.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t say anything else, deciding to put his effort into sulking instead.

More than an hour passed of this tense silence before Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo came back with the target properly tied up and cuffed.

“Let’s go, boys,” Hunter said, as he and Tech took control of the ship.

For the rest of the week, you and Crosshair avoided each other. It didn’t go unnoticed by the other members of the Bad Batch.

That’s when a secret plan was formed.

Two missions later and the team was on a wintery planet. The mission was to destroy an Imperial base and possibly rescue any captives.

“Crosshair, you’re going to stay here with her,” Hunter said after the end of the mission briefing. “We need someone to watch the ship.”

“Stay here?” You cringed when he hissed out the words like they were poison on his silvery tongue. He looked like he’d been slapped across the face with a mallet.

“Don’t worry, Crow,” you chimed in, rolling around in your chair to look at him. You could barely contain your triumphant smirk when he glared at you for using your ingenious nickname you had coined for him. “I’ll make sure to stay out of your way. You won’t see hide nor hair of me until they return.”

Maybe he just hated your presence that much, but he almost looked relieved. Were you that much of a burden to him? And if you a burden to the low-key clone...were you a burden to the others as well? Shaking your head, you looked up at Hunter and gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry about us, we’ve got it covered.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes at you, then nodded. “Good. Let’s head out, men.”

You sighed, leaning against the chair as you watched them all walk out one by one. Man...you loved to watch them. Hunter, with his broad shoulders and lean hips. The first time you had ever seen him, you had been memorized by the sway of them as he walked with confidence. Tech, with his slightly hunched walk, had almost fooled you at first but you had soon realized he was more than capable of carrying his own weight. Beneath those blacks were sinew and rolling cords of muscle. Lean, but fierce. Wrecker, too. Beefy, bulky, Wrecker. Despite how hard he looked, you had learnt that he was as soft as a marshmallow. The perfect cuddle buddy. Echo...he was part machine and man. You would think he would lose his physique but oh how you were wrong. You had seen him catch Omega when she jumped into his arms.

It wasn’t until Crosshair cleared his throat that you realized you had practically been staring at Hunter’s ass as he walked away.

Blinking, your gaze pulled up to Crosshair’s, cheeks turning a light shade of pink out of embarrassment.

His upper lip curled back into a disgusted sneer. “See something you like?”

Oh Maker, help you and keep you sane. Despite your crush, sometimes you just wanted to break Crosshair’s pretty face. You were done with his attitude. Jaw ticking, you slowly rose up out of your chair and squared up to the tall sniper. Just a couple inches shorter than him, you still had to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes.

“If you weren’t such a prickly cactus all the time, maybe it would be your ass I was staring at,” you said, not quite caring anymore. “But no. Every time I turn in this damn ship, you’re ripping me a new one about one thing or another. I liked you, Cross. I wanted your approval. But nothing I do seems to change your mind about me! I’m done, asshole. I’ll stay out of your way and you won’t have to deal with me again, all right? Great, perfect, don’t talk to me or even look at me.”

You had turned away, getting ready to stalk off to the other side of the ship.

Crosshair had, rightfully so, been caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor (judging by the wide-eyed look he gave you), but he quickly recovered and smirked.

“I could give you several things to look at, sweetheart,” he crooned before his tone took on a bitter flavor. “If you weren’t such a blasted fool.”

What. What did he call you? Anger trickled up your spine. You saw red. Whipping around, you opened your mouth to yell at him--

But stopped short when he was right there in your space, chest brushing against yours, amber eyes melting your soul. O-oh. He seemed to notice the effect he had on you, watching as the anger ebbed into excitement and maybe a dash of embarrassment. His tongue ran along his teeth, lips or pulling up into a wolfish smirk. Gloved fingers brushed down your arm and you shivered at the contact. He hummed, pulling the toothpick out of his mouth.

“If you had been trying to get my attention, doll, all you had to do was say something.”

[fantomette22]

Lady Maria vs Keeper of the Old Lords

In the depth of the pthumerian's tombs, Lady Maria always feared to encounter an adversary with the ability to control fire.

Not just a common foe with a mere fire paper no, but a being capable of channelling their own energy or blood to ignite a blade, a pyromancer. The protectors of the old lords or of the antics kings and queens of their people.

She always had fascination yet a grand fear for them. People aren't sure why a fearless warrior like her would be so destabilised at their evocation or when rumours to have seen one would went to her ear.

But in the end, she managed to overcome one of her biggest fear. She faced the fire and ash warrior and save her companions!

She took a decision. She won't let herself be hold back by this part of herself and scare her so much, anymore.

A few headcanons :

Yes I headcanon Maria is born a pyromancer. The first since about her grand grand grand (grand?) parents. Her blood is very powerful for offensive use. (Way more powerful than a normal human trying to used a Chikage as well, for exemple). So yes she could ignite her blood from her living under certains extreme conditions.

She never really learnt how to control it/how to make it take fire on demand properly and she didn't wished too (plus if she can't control it her family isn't gonna ask her to used it!). She don't want to use her own blood as a weapon, as a mean to hurt people. She don't like this and she almost feel like a monster or a weapon with such abilities.

Still, she was quite curious about the legends of the pyromancers protector of the great ones. Compared than the "shadows" of the queen she should have become.

Her abilities through her blood but it's is very similar to the shadows of Yharnam/beast possessed soul/keeper. Like the description said for the keepers they had to go through a ritual to obtain their power. But they are much older, those rituals take place before pthumerians crown themselves leaders.

Back at byrgenwerth the students gang did encounter a shadow of Yharnam once, during hm training we'll say. Everyone was fine in the end but Maria was quite shock and scared by the experience. It reminded her what she could become and the role her peers wanted her to have. A shadow.(= bodyguard who can do dirty work). Still, she even used her own blood to distract the shadow so they could run away, knowing maybe it would recognize her as not an enemy. Everyone found that a bit weird a t first but they figure that Maria do know some pthumerian/cainhurst rituals so that pass and almost no one suspect anything.

After she got her master degree at Byrgenwerth, she went to the East a couple of months to do a mission for Cainhurst. She got her Rakuyo over there as well. When she came back she got offered her hunter outfit and joined the hunter/ healing church. Not long after they went to Central Pthumeru...

Maria and a few hunter had to fight the beast possessed soul and again it scared her. Afterwards she understood she couldn't let her fear of pyromancer hold her back or people could be severely hurt.

So afterwards they discover the keeper of the old lords, Maria fought it and defeat it. She got injured and was quite destabilised but she made it. She was gift her chalice afterwards and got THE blood transfusion + a baptism + being officially a part of the hunter/church.

So besides her very close family (royal family include) nobody knows about her ability for a huge while. I think you can understand why.

Ok she did tell Gehrman accidentally. But there were more important things she told him at the same time too so he didn't pay that much attention to it on the moment. And after all, 'that you can make fire or not with your blood doesn't change who you are Maria!"

Laurence in the contrary kinda loose it when he learn about it XD he found it absolutely incredible! Compared to her. But he managed to tell her it wasn't a curse but a gift and it shows she must be special for the great ones! She did appreciate that.

I know the idea of Maria vs keeper of the old lords have already been done by a few people but it's just so good! I believe there's many possibility for a story! In term of action or even characters.

[rwbyangst12]

Even without his powers Clark is still in peak physical condition, a trained martial artist and strategist with years of hero experience, and he's also a genius with computers and science having learnt every bit of Kryptonian knowledge Jor-El managed to save. Clark knows how to protect his mind from mental attacks, telepathy, and mind control and Clark also knows lethal and non-lethal combat. Clark is a xenolinguist (he speaks every language in his universe) with a eidetic memory but Kryptonians can store and process much more information in their brains much faster than Humans can.

Clark learned how to perform surgery in 10 minutes and performed it successfully without any mistakes. Clark is and Athlete and he's a genius, he also still has a Kryptonian biology.

Not to mention that Kara is THE prodigy of Krypton. She's that one kid in class who doesn't need to go to school because no matter what profession she goes into she'll likely do perfectly.

She was the youngest member of the science guild, she started going to court proceedings at a young age and has been complimented by adults for her ability in court and law, the head of the Artisans guild wanted to mentor her privately, and she was almost accepted into the Historians guild because she wrote a thesis but her father rejected the offer because Zor-El said that. Kara should've told him. She played all sorts of sports and was the best martial artist her age.

This was what Kara was capable without her powers. She was a genius prodigy and an Athlete and an artist all without her powers.

Krypton was probably way colder than earth because it was under a red sun instead of a yellow sun so Kryptonians adapted to different temperatures and climates, it was also a heavily water based planet with plenty of mountain ranges and caverns, so most of they're dishes would comprise of fish and whatever Kryptonian vegetables, fruits, and meats they had. So diet would also come into play.

Maybe they evolved to be more flexible or to be lighter , to see better in the dark, to see underwater, or to sense vibrations better, too hear lower frequencies, to communicate in hisses or growl's if they were in a position they couldn't speak properly.

It's a minor pet peeve of mine when somehow de-powered Clark (usually via red sun radiation) is portrayed as just being a regular human. He's not.

Kryptonians are aliens, and logically, for Clark to be able to do all that he does under a yellow sun, Kryptonians should be able to do something similar (though far less powerful) under a red sun too. Why would Clark be able to take in energy from the sun if Kryptonians didn't do the same on Krypton?

A kryptonian under a red sun (or depowered Clark) should still have keener senses than a human and be able to see in more wavelengths; maybe still able to move a little bit faster than a human could or be a little bit stronger. Be more durable than a human too. The mechanism for heat vision would still be there, just less powerful (maybe emits closer to infrared?) Maybe a Kryptonian under a red sun can't fly, but they can glide/hover/jump a lot further.

Anyway, the point is: Clark's an alien. Even without his powers, he's still an alien.

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || WASN’T SO BAD

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors, swearing and mention of death, sort of spoils parts of the manga up to chapter 30 (so beware)

| form : imagine

| word count : 1553

| published : 20 november

| request : Hiiii again!! 😚 I hope your doing well :3 may I please request another sukuna/itadori x fem reader imagine where mc is dating yuuji and after getting acquainted with sukuna - they ended up bonding too?? Sukuna kinda develops a protective instinct over her and whenever he switches with yuuji - he keeps a protective hold on the back of her neck?? I see guys doing that and I want sukuna to do the same to me lol (*≧∀≦*) thank you!!

| barista’s notes : let me admit this, i’m not confident that i answered this request properly at all, and lowkey ashamed by that ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ also i’m not really confident with the battle scene i did here but when am i every confident...hahaha ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black cofee (jujutsu kaisen request) and please come again and order when i reopen the cafe!

“Damn, I’m really screwed now,” you muttered to yourself once you saw your whole new surroundings. Pure darkness enveloped you as multiple figures on what seemed to be arms surrounding you like a cage were present within your view as your enemy unleashed their domain expansion on you.

At this current moment in time, you were fighting an unregistered special grade curse that had managed to get inside a school called Satozakuro High. From what you gathered from your boyfriend Yuji and Nanami, this whole situation had started since the investigation of the murders back in Kinema Cinema,  where the sole witness - Junpei Yoshino, a classmate of the three murder victims  - managed to somehow converse with the same special grade curse that you were facing right now.

“Let me admit, the name of your domain expansion is sort of narcissistic, humble yourself would you?” you sarcastically asked, trying to figure out a way to get around this situation as you knew your soul was dangerously the line - there was no way you let something so disgusting try to transfigure it.

“For someone that’s going to die, you seem calm,” the curse stated to which before this happened, you learnt that it was named Mahito.

You had to keep calm. Ever since you became a jujutsu sorcerer, you hated when enemies would comment on your fears during battle, you hated when they would mock you for being fearful for even a second, you hated when they told you that they could hear your heart pounding in anticipation. You just purely hated that.

“Well, what do you want me to be? Fearful?” you then asked, tilting your head to the side as you rested your katana over your shoulders - only to let the tip touch the wall of the domain leaving you to realise that the wall was quite thin.

‘Maybe there is a way I can get out of this? Is my domain expansion more polished enough to overcome this one?’ you thought to yourself, before wondering about what could be happening on the outside of the same wall right now. 

                                          ꕥ

Outside the domain, Itadori was helplessly on the other side punching the wall with all of his might as he was worried about what was happening to his girlfriend on the inside.

“Don’t fuck with me!” Itadori screamed as he continued to punch the wall with his cursed energy-infused fists, desperately trying to gain some damage to the wall to no avail.

‘Why was Y/N the only one imprisoned?’ he asked himself as if he was going to get an answer back - that was if Sukuna was willing to answer his question. However, the King of Curses didn’t have a single answer himself. To say he was worried about you was an underplaying statement yet so out of character for him.

Ever since the Sukuna was introduced to you by his vessel himself, he couldn’t help but become intrigued with you like he was with Fushiguro. He wanted to know more, more and more. From all his knowledge about past sorcerers and clans, you were an exception to his vast understanding of the jujutsu world. An exception that he wanted to protect. 

You weren’t from a clan or related to one in the slightest, yet you had the capability to have inherited a technique that any powerful family would desire to have for themselves or for their offspring. You were a master weapons specialist - just like 2nd year Maki Zenin - only the major difference between both of you was the fact that you could manifest and construct those cursed weapons from only using your curse energy. 

This fact surprised Sukuna himself when he was fighting you and Fushiguro back at the Eishu Juvenile Detention Centre. Vividly he remembers holding you up by the throat against a wall, only for you suddenly swiftly swing your arm with a small but sharp military knife in hand surprising him completely on how you were able to gain another weapon without him knowing, only to find out seconds later that you had constructed the weapon with nothing but your curse energy once he moved out the way, escaping with a just small graze on his cheek.

“So you’re able to create cursed weapons ha?” Sukuna asked as he placed his hand on his chin like he was thinking before staring at the blade that was in your hand. Continuing to stare that the weapon, the King of curses slowly began to realise that the weapon you had created was classed as a special grade tool, causing him to wonder what power you possessed to even have the ability to create something so small yet so powerful.

“How in the world did you do that?” Sukuna muttered to himself, before quickly dodging your attack as you tried to assault him with another blade that you quickly manifested in your other hand, surprising the special grade curse even more on how quickly you were able to create more weapons even after just constructing the miniature knife seconds before.

“Sorry Sukuna, but I don’t like talking during battle and I also need to get my boyfriend back real quick,” you commented before you used your cursed energy to cause your military knife to disappear, only to quickly construct your classic black katana to try to close the distance between the both of you only to fail once again.

‘I can see why the brat likes you Y/N, I’m also liking where this is going’

                                        ꕥ

Still looking at your surroundings, you were worried about the amount of time you had left until you were finished. The mental confrontation that was going on in your head was straining as you weren’t sure if your only plan was the best for the situation that you were in. There was a high chance that it could fail but the small percent of success was what was bother you to the max

‘It’s my only way to get out of this situation right now, if it doesn’t work then at least I tried’ you thought, before stabbing your black katana on the ground in front of you to which then you slowly started to pour your curse energy into the blade

“Ha? What are you planning to do? You’re already dead, so might as well accept your fate,” Mahito playful teased you, as he tried to break your stern composure.

“Domain Expansi-”

However, before you could even complete your words, you unexpectedly heard a sound of a loud crack emitting behind you causing you to completely snap out of your concentration leading to the blue aura around your sword to slowly disappear. 

Before you could even turn a single inch of your head around, you suddenly felt something brush your hair aside before a warm compress was placed on the back of your neck leading you to let out a shaky breath out of fear until you felt a sense of safety enclosing around you. The feeling of his nails gently grazing your skin caused you to shiver before he lightly squeezed your neck in reassurance, trying to convey to you that he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I had it under control, Sukuna,” you muttered quietly before he tenderly pulled you back and had you turned around to face over his shoulder leading you to see the large crack that was created behind you that allowed Sukuna to enter into the domain. 

“I know, I just didn’t want to see you hurt,” Sukuna replied to which then your suddenly heard what seemed to be something being slashed, prompting you the want to turn over only for Sukuna to tighten his hold on your neck - but not to the point where you were in pain but rather him not wanting you to see what he had done.

As if he was trying to calm you down, you felt his thumb beginning to slide up and down, sometimes brushing against the bottom of your scalp leaving you to slowly begin to melt in his hold. “There was no way I was going to allow something like him to touch you,” the King of Curses said to you, leading you to feel nothing but a sense of security as you started to let your guard down causing you to lay your head on his shoulder.

Gripping onto his - well Itadori’s - school jacket, you took a deep breath in before letting a deep breath out as you calmed down your heart, not realising your heart was pounding in fear until now. You hated the fact that he could now feel the fear radiating from your body. You hated how he now knew how fearful you were for your life. You hated how it knew all of it.

“It’s okay,” Sukuna calmly stated, causing you to lift your head to face him only to see him stare at you back intensely with his glowing beautiful red eyes. “Nothing is going to hurt you, not in my sight,” he proudly said to you as if he was making a promise to you before giving your neck one last little squeeze to tell you that you were safe in his embrace.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to let him know.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to fear.

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 16

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

CW: this chapter delves a bit deeper into Alastair's head and can be a bit heavy

Previous Chapter: Chapter 15

Next Chapter: Chapter 17

I’d hoped some of you had more sense. I thought you could be a voice of reason among them, Alastair. The words echoed in Alastair’s head, he should have known this was bound to happen. The Herondales thought he was a good person, capable, trustworthy, and they were wrong. They would have found out eventually, but it still stung. And he’d tried. He’d wanted so badly to be what Will and Tessa believed he could be, but he couldn’t. Because he wasn’t a good person, he wasn’t capable, he wasn’t like Jem. He was awful and worthless and undeserving of their kindness.

Before dr. Gray could have said anything else, Alastair had left, gone to his bedroom. Years of practice to keep his expression blank, to never show that they get to you, it was all coming apart. He couldn’t do this anymore. He was so tired of pretending to be something he was not.

He collapsed onto the bed and curled up as if to protect himself. He grabbed his stuffed hedgehog, tried to find comfort in it. He was often ashamed to keep his hedgehog when he was far too old to still be sleeping with stuffed animals, but he’d never had a childhood, he’d never felt safe and protected. When he held his hedgehog, he could at least pretend. It wasn’t working. He felt so helpless, like everything was spiraling out of his control and he didn’t know how to make it go away. He had always liked to pretend he was in control, by keeping everything neat and organized he was controlling what he could. But the truth was that nothing in his life was in his control and it never would be.

He was caught in a storm and there was nowhere he could find shelter, the only thing he could was endure. He wasn’t sure how to do that either. At times like this Alastair feared it would always be like this and he would never get better. He wasn’t even sure what was going on, there was just an overwhelming sense of helplessness, of perceived danger and being too small and weak to do anything to protect himself.

He heard someone knock on the door. Cordelia, perhaps. Or Thomas. They couldn’t see him like this. They couldn’t see just how worthless and awful and broken he was. Even around them, he was pretending, acting like he was fine as long as people didn’t drink when he was around. Thomas deserved someone better than him, someone who could give him everything. Alastair was used to giving people he loved everything he could, and it had never been enough. He could not deny that he was the common factor there. Whatever love he had left was broken at its core, he could not love people enough and in return he did not deserve to be loved.

‘Alastair, are you in there!’ Cordelia yelled.

He wasn’t sure which was worse, Cordelia seeing him like this or Thomas. At least Cordelia had seen him break down before. Once upon a time, anger had been his defense. When things became too much and he couldn’t take it anymore, he would get angry. He’d yell at people, or else he’d turn stone cold and hateful. He’d hurt so many people with that, had so many regrets. He’d learnt to stop doing that. Lately he didn’t even know how to feel angry anymore. He often just felt empty inside, tired. Sometimes he didn’t feel anything anymore, as if he wasn’t even human. But that emptiness was still preferable to this, he thought, better than being overwhelmed by emotion, by a sudden sense of helplessness and a perceived danger he wasn’t even sure wasn’t there. Although perhaps when that helplessness went away and emptiness remained, he’d wish he could just feel something.

‘Leave me alone, Cordelia!’ Alastair yelled back, summoning the last bit of his old defensiveness.

‘Alastair, can we come in?’

Thomas, his voice gentle, but Alastair could hear some anxiety in there as well. Thomas might like him, find him attractive even, but he was bound to find out Alastair couldn’t be a good partner, couldn’t fulfill his needs.

‘Please don’t!’ Alastair said. His voice broke. ‘Just… leave me, alright? You don’t need me, you can find the selkie skin without me.’

‘Alastair, I’m going to sit out here, and when you’re ready, come open the door. I’ll wait all day if I have to.’

Alastair hadn’t expected his sister to respect his request, he’d expected her to barge in, Thomas in tow, and drag him out of bed. He wasn’t sure what to do now. He clutched his hedgehog against him. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t save Thomas. He’d disappointed Tessa. His memory wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

Alastair had always thought he could accept that very few people loved him. He didn’t like most other people much and preferred the safety of his own shell anyway. But he did long to be loved, even if he did not deserve it. Thomas was bound to find out soon enough, if he even survived. Alastair knew it would be his fault if they lost Thomas, because instead of working on saving him, he was here, broken down and useless. He never knew what to make of Will and Tessa, he suspected they had this idea of him that was more about his cousin Jem than about who he was. But Jem was extraordinary, and Alastair could never live up tot that.

He gave in to the overwhelming emotion and started crying. He tried to silence the sobs in his pillow, he didn’t want anyone to know he was crying. It was pointless, he knew, but Alastair was still so ashamed of his emotions.

He wasn’t sure how long he kept going. He cried until he couldn’t anymore, and when he was finished he just felt empty. At least that sense of helplessness was away, even if what replaced it wasn’t much better. Alastair dried his eyes and got out of bed, gently stroking his hedgehog before making his bed and carefully placing the hedgehog underneath his blanket.

He figured he might as well come out. At least now he could pretend things were fine, even if his eyes were still puffy and red. When he opened the door, both Cordelia and Thomas were sitting there, relieved to see the door finally open. How long had they been there, waiting for him? Why would they do that? Tessa was there too, and Alastair immediately regretted his decision to come out of his room and wanted to retreat.

‘I truly am sorry, dr. Gray,’ Alastair said, his voice small. He couldn’t look her in the eye, but then Alastair had always struggled with eye contact. It had taken him years to figure out the appropriate times to make eye contact and force himself to do it. When he was too overwhelmed he just couldn’t do it.

‘No, I am sorry,’ Tessa said. ‘My husband confessed he encouraged you to go into the woods. But even if he hadn’t, I should not have singled you out like that.’

Alastair wasn’t sure what to make of that apology. ‘We should not have lied,’ Alastair said.

He wanted to add an explanation of the selkies skin, but he felt he was still too overwhelmed to say more than a few words. He could pretend he still had this under control, that he still knew what he was doing and could save Thomas. He could pretend he wasn’t dead and empty inside. He would do the best he could, because Thomas deserved to live. And if it cost him his life, maybe that was for the best.

Alastair wasn’t suicidal, he’d never made concrete plans to end his own life, he only had the occasional thought of death. For some weird reason, that had gotten worse at first after leaving Father. Before, Alastair had no choice but to endure, because his mother and sister needed him. If he didn’t protect them, who would? But after leaving, he’d sometimes feel like he had no purpose anymore. He no longer had to protect his mother and Cordelia, and although he was safe now too he never felt that way. At times he did feel he might be better off dead. That had improved about a month after starting his medication though, he rarely had these thoughts anymore.

‘I trust you,’ Tessa said. ‘Can I talk to you for a moment? It’s alright if you prefer another time.’

Alastair nodded, still unable to meet Tessa’s eyes. He hoped he would be able to speak properly. On rare occasions, Alastair found himself unable to get the words through no matter how much he wanted to. It was something he hadn’t found an explanation for, but there were times he was too overwhelmed to speak. Usually when he was upset, he got angry and said cold, cruel things he didn’t mean. But when things got too bad and spiraled out of control sometimes he just couldn’t get words out, something he once concealed by giving people his most hostile glare and walking away.

Tessa sat down in one of the arm chairs in his room, and Alastair sat down in the other, hoping he’d be able to actually have a conversation.

‘I’m trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head,’ Tessa said. ‘I know what I said hurt you, and I should not have put that sort of responsibility on you. I admit I’d thought that since you were careful, you might keep Lucie and the others out of trouble. But that isn’t fair to you, and I want to make sure you’re alright.’

‘It’s fine,’ Alastair managed to say, glad to be able to get at least some words out. He didn’t understand it, and it was fortunately a rare enough occurrence that he hadn’t really tried to understand it. He figured it was just another thing that was broken about him, although this was something that had been present when he was a child as well.

‘You don’t have to parent my daughter, Alastair. Nor Cordelia,’ Tessa said. ‘That is my responsibility as Lucie’s mother.’

‘I’m not like Jem,’ Alastair said.

It was not exactly a logical response to what Tessa said. There was so much more he wanted to say, but those were the words he could get out of his mouth, the thing he wanted to make clear. Because he knew Will and Tessa thought he was like Jem, and they had impossible expectations of him because of that.

‘I know,’ Tessa said. ‘If anything, you’re more like Will. And Gideon. But most of all, you’re like you. And you’re enough, as you are. It is not weakness, that you are struggling, and we all want to do what we can to support you.’

Alastair could only nod in response.

‘And if you want to go back into the woods, I won’t stop you. I know you’ll make the right call, Alastair.’

She shouldn’t trust him, she really shouldn’t. But he knew he would only make this more difficult and uncomfortable if he said that, if he could even get the words past his lips. People often didn’t understand the way he thought, and explaining his reasoning sometimes made him feel like he was crazy. He went downstairs with Thomas and Cordelia, who were still waiting outside the room.

Tessa groaned when she only saw her husband in the living room, nose stuck in a book. ‘Where did Lucie go?’

‘She’s just in the garden,’ Will said. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

Alastair sat down on the couch next to Thomas and snuggled against him. He knew he didn’t deserve this, he knew it wouldn’t last, but he couldn’t help but indulge in the moment. At least Thomas was here now. At least it was something. At least he could feel something good now with Thomas so close to him. And Charles had never done anything like this, had never held him and comforted him. He wondered how soon Thomas would get tired of this.

Cordelia went outside to find Lucie, and Will and Tessa disappeared too, Alastair wasn’t sure where to. They’d be back soon enough, he guessed, and he was comfortable like this. Thomas was warm, and his strong arms were wrapped around him and kept him safe.

‘If there’s anything you need, just tell me,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m here for you, alright?’

Alastair just nodded, leaning into Thomas, placing Thomas’ arms in such a way that it was comforting and soothing. Lucie’s Lilo and Stitch blanket was next to him, and Alastair rubbed his hands over it, enjoying how soft it felt.

He didn’t dare voice his concerns about Thomas. He expected Thomas to deny it. People always lied, and sometimes they even believed their own lies. He suspected Thomas would. Thomas was so sweet and kind and saw good in people when there was nothing. He probably believed this would work out and he could love Alastair enough to fix what was broken. But Alastair had enough experience to know love didn’t fix anything.

‘I’m serious,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m not sure yet, how all this works, what you need, but I want to figure it out.’

Alastair kept rubbing his hand on the blanket, stroking it in a repetitive motion. He was feeling a little better, but so tired.

‘I’m still figuring it out, too,’ Alastair said, feeling like he had calmed enough to speak again. ‘That’s why I’m seeing a therapist. She helped me identify triggers and find better ways to cope with sudden flashbacks and fear than anger outbursts. I used to have those all the time.’

‘I heard something from James,’ Thomas admitted. ‘About a year ago. How you burst out against him and then Cordelia broke up with him.’

‘He must have been very upset,’ Alastair said, guilt creeping over him.

‘He was,’ Thomas said. ‘I think at the time he didn’t understand why Cordelia had broken up with him. Lucie did though, she did the best she could to explain. But as James told it, you were so angry with him for no reason, and he was terrified. But I’m thinking, that must have been because of your disorder, right?’

Alastair sighed. ‘Please do not use my PTSD as an excuse for my behavior. I know I’ve said and done awful things, nothing excuses that. But yes, before I started therapy, I lashed out when I was upset. And that night, James and Cordelia were fighting over something. I’m not sure what it was about, probably something silly, and I’m guessing the fight itself must not have been so serious. But I’d just come home from my ex, and when I heard them I thought he was hurting her. I thought she was in danger. So I got angry. It never got physical, by the way. People always think I’m violent, because that’s how they view Persian men, but I’m not. Then James got angry too. And I understand. All he knew of me was the bastard I’d been when we went to school together, and he thought I was a monster. He said he didn’t understand why my sister still loved me, and when Cordelia asked him to leave, he at first refused to leave her alone with me, convinced I’d hurt my own sister.’

Alastair was shaking, even if it had been over a year ago. And honestly, he couldn’t blame James. He knew it was his fault, and he knew James’ perception of him was influenced by how he’d treated James. It would have been a lot worse coming from someone he didn’t have a past with. He knew that because of the way they looked, people expected Alastair to be violent and controlling and people expected Cordelia to be meek and submissive and in need of rescue from her family, or well, the Iranian part of her family. He knew many would assume his sister needed to be rescued from him, when he’d done everything he could to protect her.

‘Cordelia stepped in, and dragged James out before it got out of hand, and later I learnt that’s when she’d broken up with him.’

‘It’s not so much an excuse as it is an explanation,’ Thomas said. ‘We can all grow and do better, and having a disorder is not an excuse to hurt people, but I know you’re doing the best you can and I feel it would be unfair to hold you to the same standards as someone who does not have PTSD.’

Alastair wasn’t sure he agreed. More than anything, he wished he could be normal, he wished he could be in control and be good enough. He was doing the best he could, Thomas was right about that. But the best he could wasn’t enough.

‘But if I cannot be held to the same standards, what about my father?’ Alastair asked. ‘Does that mean, because addiction is a disorder as well, he cannot be held to higher standards? Could I not have expected more of him?’

Thomas frowned. ‘I don’t think it’s the same. As I said, having a disorder is not an excuse when you hurt someone. But you were very young when you did hurt people, and you stopped. You changed. You’re going to therapy. Your father never did any of that, did he?’

‘No he didn’t,’ was all Alastair said.

When he was younger, he’d been foolish enough to believe his father’s promises. He would say he’d quit, that it wouldn’t happen again, that he’d gotten better. But he never did. He wasn’t sure he could explain the disappointment, of finding his father passed out with a bottle again after believing his promises.

‘I think I’m not explaining it well,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m not sure… I know you’re sorry, for what you did, and that you’re trying to do better. But I think you lashing out because of your fear is not the same thing as someone else who is awful to people because they enjoy hurting others, or because they believe they’re better than them. You still have the responsibility to do better, but it’s not the same.’

‘I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone,’ Alastair said softly, tears in his eyes. ‘That’s the thing, I always knew it was awful, I knew what I did to people. I knew how much it hurt and I never wanted to do that to someone else. But I did it anyway, because I couldn’t take it anymore. At the time I thought those were my options, be bullied or become the bully. And I convinced myself, no matter what I did, it wasn’t as bad as they’d done to me. But that didn’t matter.’

Alastair burst into tears. He tried to stop it, to control himself, but he couldn’t. Part of him expected Thomas to let go of him, but he didn’t and Alastair leaned into him even more, closing his eyes. He could feel comfortable like this. He could pretend he was safe and protected. Thomas’ strong arms made a better illusion of safety than a lifeless stuffed hedgehog, for sure.

It was difficult, when someone could see right through him. And he knew Thomas had always seen through him. Had Thomas made excuses for his behavior back then? Had he defended him from his friends? Thomas had said he’d always seen Alastair was very sad, had he suspected something was not right? Had he used that as an excuse for the awful things he’d done? It was sweet of Thomas, for sure. But he didn’t want people to make excuses for him, he didn’t want them to pretend it was fine. He knew he didn’t deserve that.

‘You know, my father told me he was quite awful when he was in school,’ Thomas said. ‘When he went to Spain, he realized what his father had taught him was wrong and he didn’t want to be like that anymore. He deserved a second chance, and so do you. So far, you’re doing an amazing job.’

Alastair was tempted to shut Thomas down again. He wasn’t doing a good job. He’d tried to change, to be better, and at least he was no longer hurting others, but what use was it when he couldn’t help them either, when the only alternative to hurting others was hurting himself? But he was curious too, how similar was he to Gideon Lightwood? Tessa had drawn the same comparison.

‘I really can’t picture your father as a school bully,’ Alastair said, wiping at his eyes.

‘Me neither,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But he believes everyone deserves a second chance, because where would he be if he hadn’t been given one? And I find it really hard to believe what you said to me about my parents only liking you because of your power or because you want to save me. That’s not what they’re like at all.’

Alastair wasn’t sure how to explain that to Thomas. Perhaps he was making too many assumptions, but it just seemed unlikely anyone could like him for him as a person. People liking his power made much more sense. It was the only thing his father had liked about him, the only part of him he’d showed even an ounce of interest in. It was the only part Father hadn’t deemed worthless.

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ was all Alastair said, mostly because he didn’t know how to explain what he was really feeling and didn’t want Thomas to worry.

Lucie and Cordelia returned inside, both their faces serious and Alastair suspected they were still concerned about the selkie’s skin. He had run out of ideas on how to enter that world by now. He sat up, but didn’t quite move away from Thomas yet. It felt too good to be held like this, Thomas’ arms applying just the right amount of pressure to be soothing. He wanted to hold on to that feeling.

‘Okay, so I have some news,’ Lucie said. ‘Grace escaped from Tatiana again and came to deliver a message to me. She claims I am a witch and I can use dark magic to open a gateway.’

‘Doesn’t using dark magic require making a deal with something like the creature we’re trying to defeat?’ Thomas asked.

‘According to Grace, not when you’re a witch. But that’s very uncommon, apparently. And she thinks my seeing ghosts is a sign I’m a witch. Problem is, I have no clue how to do any of the things she claims I can do. What do you know about witches?’

‘All I know is, sometimes people are born with certain powers, like my memory, but as far as I know all such powers are rare and no one understands why it happens,’ Alastair said. ‘Since she’s not human, maybe she knows more.’

‘There was an evil witch a few centuries back who was defeated by your and Cordelia’s ancestor,’ Lucie said. ‘And then she turned into a mermaid, which is how Grace knew about her.’

‘Some of our ancestors did keep journals, in an attempt to improve our knowledge of the supernatural,’ Alastair said. ‘Of course, those are full of contradictions, and sometimes racist assumptions about creatures that aren’t evil or dangerous, but protected indigenous cultures from colonizers. But a story about a witch would likely be documented.’

‘Can we see these journals?’ Lucie asked. ‘I’m guessing your ancestor didn’t know much about how she did it, but he must have known what she used to fight him.’

Alastair shook his head. ‘My father has them.’

Alastair couldn’t face his father, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready, even if needed to. He felt tired and empty now where he was somewhat safe, but he suspected he’d fall apart if he had to confront his father. He definitely didn’t want Cordelia to have to talk to him. For a long time, she’d idolized him, but now that she knew the truth, and knew how it had affected him, she was angry.

‘Your father could ask for them,’ Thomas suggested to Lucie. ‘Will has known him for some time. Or perhaps he can ask uncle Jem to talk to Elias.’

Alastair wasn’t sure his father would listen. He wasn’t sure what to think, what to expect from his father now. He hadn’t seen him since he left, not outside his memories and nightmares. He didn’t know what his father was up to, and he didn’t want to know. All he knew was, Jem was still trying, Jem never gave up on anyone. But Alastair had given up a long time ago.

[footballcloud]

Like Old Times - Anyone You’d Like

this is the first thing I’ve written in about a year now, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I’m not sure how frequently I’ll post things and some might be longer than other. Happy reading my lovelies! Tell me who you imagined it with! xx

"I don't understand how someone could be on 'good terms' with an ex", your friend piped up, putting the phrase 'good terms' in air quotations, when the topic of your most recent relationship popped up in conversation. You playfully rolled your eyes given that she'd told you that a billion times already, along with several other people, but it wasn’t like the break up was messy. You two were still civil, there wasn’t any tension between you. So why couldn’t the two of you stay friends? "I don't feel the need to make an enemy out of every ex I have", you replied, earning a laugh from the other girls as you threw a wink her way since she had a reputation to be a bit of a firecracker, and everyone knew it.

"If this cocktail wasn't so damn expensive, you'd be wearing it", she retorted as you shot her a look as if to say 'yeah right'. She wasn't wrong about you still getting on with your ex though. He was still very much a part of your life. You'd text him good luck occasionally on a match day if it was a particularly big game, or if he'd scored, you even had notifications for his team turned on on your phone to see how they were getting on. His parents even sent you a card a bouquet of flowers for your birthday a few weeks ago. He became integrated into part of your routine and you didn't want to offset it. Clearly your girls were against it though, they were never a huge fan of his in the first place. Saying you could do better. Saying he wasn't the one. Saying that whilst keeping little rituals like that in your life was lovely and all, that you'd never get over him - but you were over him. Definitely. Nevertheless, they supported you through the breakup as if they'd never said a bad word about him. Although, you couldn't miss the unimpressed faces they pulled when he walked into the club with his a couple of teammates.

"What's he doing here?" One of them were quick to comment as he made his way in the direction of the bar to get in a round of drinks. "Probably come to celebrate the win", you struggled and diverted your eyes away from him in a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact, that was the last thing you needed to throw you off the flow of a good night. "Of course you'd know", another one of your girls piped up and elbowed you in the ribbed mockingly, making your group laugh once again.

"I think it's mine turn to get drinks in, who wants what?" You slid out of the booth and grabbed your clutch from beside you. Your friends weren’t stupid, they knew exactly why you were so eager to get the drinks in but there was only so many times they could tell you that you weren’t right for each other.

"Passion fruit martini please" "Make that two!" "Vodka cranberry" "I think I'll pass this time, thanks" "Mines a rum and coke"

You nodded in an attempt to look like you'd remember what they'd just told you, but the second you properly laid eyes on him at the bar, their orders fell out your head almost instantly. He looked as good as he did the day you two broke it off. Dark ripped jeans, dark shirt with the top few buttons undone and sleeves cuffed a couple of times to show his arms that were glazed with a rich tan from his Dubai holiday that you'd seen plastered across his social media a few week ago, paired with silver watch that he'd bought himself last Christmas on his left wrist and grey trainers with hair styled neatly like it always was.

'Jesus Christ, keep your shit together', you scolded yourself for staring for too long but before you could tear your gaze away from him, he'd caught you in the act.

"You haven't change a bit, darling", a smug grin appeared on his face, using your pet name that you hadn't heard in months, as he rested a hand on your back, making you suddenly deeply regret your choice to wear a backless dress when you jolted under his warm touch. "Looking gorgeous, as ever", he added and leaned down a little further meaning you could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and fabric softer of his shirt when you inhaled heavily to compose yourself. You’d intended on going over to him, but the thought process hadn’t got as far as to what you were going to say to him, nor did you know why you felt the need to interrupt your girls night out to see him.

"Thank you, congrats on the win this afternoon", you replied, thanking him for his compliment that could have easily been mistaken for a flirty comment. ‘You haven’t changed either’, you thought when his arms tenced slightly when he leaned against the bar, allowing yourself a subtle glance over him - but eager to not fall for his charm a second time so changed the topic of conversation quickly. "Thanks, darling. How have you been?" You made polite conversation for a while, just like old times. With the drinks order for your group of friends long forgotten and presumably the same for him, you made your way outside with him as he guided you through a back exit, his hand still on your back.

"Seeing anyone new?" He asked out of the blue, initiating a conversation that you really didn't want to discuss with him and it confused you as to why he'd brought up the topic all of a sudden. "Nope, not been seeing anyone for months", you popped the 'p' on nope. Your response made him raise his eyebrows at you, pulling an expression that, even after an 18 month long relationship, you couldn't read what it meant. You weren’t going to tell him that he was in fact the last person you’d seen as that might give off the wrong message that you weren’t over him.

"What about you? Surely you've had girls practically throwing themselves at you?" You scoff involuntarily, sounding overly bitter. Yuck.  Clearly your comment caught him off guard because it was one of the few times his cool, calm demeanour had flaked away, resulting in you looking flustered. "No one actually, how could I when I see pictures on your Instagram of you looking that good". He eyed you up and down, shamelessly flirting with you, passing the flustered feeling over to you as you shifted under his gaze for a second as he took in your appearance better than he could when you were in the club. Strappy heels that he knew hurt your feet but made your legs look incredible, that short backless dress that he'd be thinking of taking off you since the second he laid eyes on you, hair curled at the ends so it bounced below your shoulders blades and light makeup, because you had no one to impress - or so you thought when you left your apartment.

"If you didn't like it, you know where the unfollow button is", you told him, trying not to sound defensive. "Who said I didn't like it?" He was quick to throw back his response with his signature smile plastered on his face, the same smile that had you falling for him the first time. Whilst you mustered up something to say, he began to lean in closer again allowing you to inhale the same familiar mixture of scents that intoxicated you less than an hour ago. You watched his eyes flutter shut with parted lips as his head tilted to the side, it was a natural reaction of yours to mirror his actions as you leaned in closer too. His hand on your back pressed more firmly against it to pull you closer whilst one of yours instinctively went to run through his hair and then settle on the back of his neck. The kiss was tentative, neither of you really wanted to take control in fear of losing the other one again.

“I’ve missed this”, he said as he continued to move his lips against yours, snaking his hand round to rest on your waist. You pulled away from his abruptly after that and leant your forehead on his. “Don’t say or do anything you might regret. It’s the alcohol talking”, you stated and looked at him, lips almost touching again. “You saw me walk in, I’ve not had a drink all night”, he told you and pulled away so the warmth of his body no longer comforted you as the atmosphere around you both suddenly became heavy. He was right though. You were the only one that was intoxicated after a few shots and two cocktails.

“I want you back”, he confirmed bluntly and tried to make eye contact with you but you denied him. “Okay - but we need to talk about this, not here”, you gestured to him, he nodded in agreement as a group of people stumbled out of the door, after clearly consuming more alcohol than they could handle. It had also started to drizzle slightly, the moisture weighing down the loose curls in your hair. “Come back to mine? Please?” His gaze still on you when you met his eyes but were deep in thought given his invitation. You weren’t prepared to let him smooth talk you into his bed like you knew he was capable of doing, and catch feelings again, only resulting in you tearing yourself apart again when he dips out of your life. Over the months that you’d been apart, you’d learnt your own worth - he wasn’t going to have you that easily.

“Okay”, you nodded as a grin appeared on his face. “But only to talk”, you added making him laugh and sling an arm round your shoulder. “Of course, babe. What else?” He raised an eyebrow at you and threw you a cheek wink before knocking on the window of a taxi that was parked nearby. “Have I told you how good you look in that dress?” You jabbed him in the ribs and rolled yours eyes, hoping that the dim streetlights would hide your blushes. “Don’t you dare say what I know you going to!” You warned him, knowing he was going to make a comment about how he thought the dress would look better on his bed room floor. He threw his head back as a laugh left his lips whilst a hand casually fell onto your thigh when he sat down next to you, just like it had done hundreds of times before. You laced your fingers over his, content with the company you were in.

[sparklinpixiedust]

Basic Training Headcanons

I don't know why but after reading @jennifer-10nyson post , ( here ) , I wanted to write this down.

This was supposed to be a small paragraph but then I got carried away and then OCs started coming in and well, it got long and ended up being this. Also I didn't re - read after it was done so sorry for the grammatical mistakes. Also sorry if things aren't Canon, I wasn't exactly thinking about it much when I was typing it out.

This is how the Basic Training episode [ or story arc ] should've gone in my opinion.

The trio is taken to the academy as usual

Ben complains , Tack is introduced

Brannigan is still a jerk, but still is head of the alpha squad.

They are the best ranking team in the academy

Ben and co will not be fighting with them or against them throughout their stay.

They've been training for a while and are on a whole other level. Ben and Co. are considered newbies to the program so it doesn't make sense for them to be together.

When they arrive , they are taken to the main hall.

Ben, even Gwen and Kevin don't really think the need training. They have saved the world a lot.

There are more aliens besides them , not just the 4.

Hulka informs them that they will have specific training to help them develop their own capabilities.

They will then also have common classes like what were mentioned in the episode about space ships n alike, and stratergy making sessions

One of the classes is a common combat class like using weapons and stuff we saw in the episode, for times when they can't use their powers for some reason [ like how anodites cant use mana on geochelones]

They have dinner and go to bed.

Next day they start their traning.

Besides Gwen , there are only 2 other anodites present, Josephine and Celeste.

Josephine is an anodite- petrosapien hybrid and Celeste is a splixson-anodite hybrid [ why are they like that? Lol idk, just thought I explore the whole anodites can have kids with any species aspect and these were the first aliens that popped into my head so I'm going with them]

The first session is to show what they are capable of by going through a stimulation.

Neither of them make it to the end, though Gwen puts up a good fight compared to the others.

Gwen's pretty irked because she's worked hard yet she's not much better than the other 2. Then again she's self taught, there wasn't really much she could learn on her own.

The magsiter in charge of them is anodite as well, a pure anodite.

He makes a plan. By the end of the program, each of them would be able to fly to a degree and cast "spells".

Nothing too major since proper anodite training lasts for like 60-70 years.

Plumbers just train them enough so they can put up a good fight.

Their powers are further specialised due to being hybrids. Josephine's mana is bulkier and doesn't flow as smooth. The shields she puts up are pretty crystalline looking. She treats her mana like it's taydenite , by forming it into spears (?) and such.

Celeste doesn't really focus on shields much but instead focuses on making multiple copies of her self. They don't all share feelings, their kind of like echo - echo but without with sonar.

Both of them do dual training , but major in mana manipulation and minor in the others because their anodite abilities are their weak point.

Gwen's human so nothing special for her :(

Now moving on to Kevin.

There are 5 osmosians , including Kevin

" aren't you the guy that destroyed the academy 2 months ago?" - uhh ..yes ? - awesome dude, up top"

Amanda and her twin sister Stacy grew up on a space ship in space. Their father was an osmosian plumber that constantly got relocated to different planets.

Jeremy is one of those stuck up dudes who thinks he's better than everyone.

Kevin scoffed him off initially but is amazed when he saw him absorbing and using electricity during the stimulation with great control.

Phineas is pretty much like Kevin. Chill and all about the tech.

Their Magister is one of Osmos V's elders. She exclaims her delight when she learns Kevin is Devins son, talking about what a great plumber he was.

Jeremy and Kevin finish the stimulation neck to neck.

Kevin's not as great as Jeremy, but he's been in enough difficult situations to cope well during battle.

The plan for them: learn to absorb and control small amounts of raw energy and learn how to absorb enough of the opponents energy to equal the playing field for a while.[ idea from the @theangrycomet ]

Now Ben

Ben has the most difficult time because he needs to learn basic fighting skills for not one, but over 10 different aliens.

Poor guy is all over the place.

He needs extra training to strategise what aliens would work best in sequence of attack, know a lot about their main strengths and weaknesses

Ben gets a shock of realisation that he doesn't know much of anything lol.

" how was I supposed to know big chill is allergic to vanilla, and why would that ever be important?!! - what if you get attacked by a giant vanilla alien one day huh? You choose big chill and youre out of the game for the next hour - wow.... there are vanilla aliens? Are there chocolate ones ? - focus tennyson!

Of course there's tons of other alien species ad well.

Over all, there's around 32 aliens in the given cohort.

This whole program lasts for the whole of summer , not like 5 days. You can't train properly in 5 days.

Gwen and the others get along pretty well. It's nice to spend time with people besides Ben and Kevin.

Kevin's good too. He's surprising himself everyday with what he can do.

He and Phineas are the cool guys of the cohort, throwing random dorm room parties and just having a good time.

Kevin has a rivalry with Jeremy , but its not personal or anything.

The trio are still kind of a big deal.

Initially there was some autograph signing and picture taking but after a while the excitement died down a bit.

At the end they have 5 tests.

One is the written exam on what they've learnt about space craft and Weaponry, different alien cultures and their planets, basic alien science [ strengths and weaknesses], a personalised obstacle course , and then a team [ teams of 4] obstacle course like the hostage situation thing in the actual episode.

No ones breaking out of the null void in this AU, no major enemy threat.

It's about training and it's going to stay about training.

Of course , enemies still attack Ben but since its at a training academy, there's lots of plumbers around so the situation simmers down pretty quickly.

Gwen gets a 97, Kevin gets a 100 , Ben gets a 85.

It's not like Ben wasn't paying attention. He was just really exhausted from everything.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme

~^~

Friday, 19:24

Song: Miss Benny - Rendezvous

Lucas sits alone at the table, an empty dinner plate in front of him, when he hears the door open and footsteps make their way down the hall. He stands up and is in the process of dumping his plate in the sink when his father comes into the kitchen. He smiles tiredly at Lucas as he deposits his keys on the counter, shrugging off his blazer and laying it over the back of a chair. “Hey, kiddo, sorry I’m late.”

Lucas bristles, but doesn’t pause in his process of turning the tap on and beginning to rinse off his dishes. He purses his lips and says, “I left your food in the oven to keep it warm but I don’t think that works for almost two hours, so you should probably reheat it.”

Lucas wouldn’t consider himself rude. He can maintain a quiet anger, hold onto a grudge, be relatively ruthless if the situation requires it, but he isn’t rude. For the majority of people he meets, he can portray a simple politeness, can keep himself in check. He considers himself relatively patient. He can bide his time and hold his tongue.

Except for when it comes to Hugo Van Der Heijden.

When it comes to his father, Lucas has very little patience, and is even worse at holding his tongue.

He rolls his eyes now as the man thanks him, grateful that he isn’t facing him, and scrubs harder at the plate in his hands. Hugo moves his dinner from the oven to the microwave as Lucas sets his plate aside and shakes out his hands, wiping them with a towel before heading for the door.

His dad calling his name stops him, and he sends a tired glance to the ceiling before turning around. Hugo has sat himself at the table. His expression is a complicated mix of exhaustion and apology as he gestures at the chair across from him. “Really, Lucas, I’m sorry I’m late. I know I promised we’d have dinner today. Can you just sit down with me for, five minutes? Tell me what school is like?”

Lucas considers him for a moment, then lets out a breath through his nose. He sits at the table and watches his dad smile.

“So, how have you been doing? Have you made any friends yet?”

Lucas swallows. He thinks of all the time he’s spent under that one oak tree in a quiet corner of the yard to eat his lunch, or the back table in the library, or the basement bathrooms. He’s spoken to a few people in his classes, to ask about the topics he’d missed and take a few photos of notes to copy. A few people have struck up conversations with him in the minutes before a class starts, or as they stand at their locker a few columns away from Lucas. Lucas has learnt a few faces and fewer names but he hasn’t really made any friends.

“I’m still getting to know people,” he says simply.

His dad nods, hopping up to collect his plate when the microwave beeps. Lucas passes him the knife and fork he’d left out earlier and is rewarded with another smile and thanks. “And, do you like any of these people? Any pretty girls in your classes?”

Lucas bristles again. He can’t help it. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t his dad’s fault, that he just doesn’t know. But it shouldn’t matter. He shouldn’t assume. Lucas is tired of everyone assuming. He’s tired of everything in his life being decided for him. He’s tired of his dad being at the center of it. “No, everyone’s hideous, I have no idea why you brought me here.”

Hugo huffs tiredly. “Okay, point taken, we don’t talk about crushes. What are your teachers like, then?”

“They’re fine. They teach.”

“And you’re finding your studies okay? You haven’t been left behind in anything?”

“They’re fine.”

Hugo sighs and sets his utensils down, rubbing a hand over his face. Lucas tenses his shoulders in preparation for the lecture he’s surely about to get. “I know it’s not ideal, Lucas. I understand that you’re probably upset with me. But eventually you’ll understand I’m only trying to do what’s best.”

Lucas can’t bite back his scoff. “So leaving Mom, dragging me away from all my friends, making me move school after I’ve just started my last year, that’s what’s best?”

“What else would you have wanted me to do, Lucas? You know your mother isn’t in a position to take care of you right now.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Son, you’re seventeen.”

“So? You can be mature at seventeen. What do I have to do? Cook, clean up, do the washing. Everything that I do here anyway. I could’ve moved in with Liv and Jayden. One of their roommates moved out to go to college anyway.”

Hugo gives another tired huff, shaking his head. “You want to convince me you’re mature enough to take care of yourself by acting out and suggesting moving in with Jayden?”

“Acting out? How am I acting out?” Lucas bursts, sitting up in his seat. “I get up and I go to school and I come home and make your fucking dinner. How would you even know if I was acting out when you’re never even here? How is it any different to what it’d be like if you’d just let me stay with Mom?”

“If you were staying with your mother right now, you really would drive her crazy,” Hugo snaps back.

Lucas freezes.

They’ve had this argument so many times. They’ve never taken it there before.

Hugo seems to instantly regret his words, dropping his hand to reach across the table, towards Lucas. Lucas flinches away from him, pushing his chair back. “Luc,” his dad says gently, “I didn’t mean—“

“I know what you meant,” Lucas cuts him off. “And if I’m so much of a problem for you, I really don’t understand why you want me here.”

His father looks pained. “Lucas, stop. Let’s talk about this properly.”

“I think we’ve talked enough.” Lucas pushes himself to his feet and is surprised at how unsteady he feels. He hadn’t realised his hands were shaking. He curls them into fists in an attempt to stop their trembles and alleviate some of the pressure in his chest. Maybe if he applies pressure somewhere else, it won’t feel so overwhelming. It won’t make him feel like he’s drowning.

“Son, sit down. If you want to prove you’re mature then—“

“Fuck you,” Lucas spits. “Just—enough. I hate you for leaving her. I hate you for taking me with you. I hate you.”

Hugo slumps. “Lucas—“

Lucas doesn’t wait around to hear anymore. He rushes down the hallway to his room and slams and locks the door behind him. He leans against it, banging his head lightly back against the wood as he squeezes his eyes shut. He sucks in a breath and it comes out ragged, choked with emotion and wet with held-back tears. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes and tries to bring his breathing under control, doing the exercises Liv had taught him long ago. In for four, hold for four, out for four. Your mind is a stream. Set your unwanted thoughts on the leaves drifting past. Let them go. Keep moving on.

It doesn’t do much, at least in regards to his thoughts. There are too many of them to sort through and watch pass, all unwanted, all overwhelming. His breathing is still uneven. He sits on the floor in front of his bed and drops his head between his knees, locking his hands behind it.

He focuses on the breathing part of his mantra until his lungs are cooperating again, then lifts his head enough to hide his face in his hands. He’s horrified to realise the tops of his cheeks are wet, where a few tears have slipped out unnoticed. He knows it’s just the anxiety, the lack of breath, that forced them out, but there’s nothing he hates more than crying.

He quickly wipes the dampness away as he tries to sort himself out. He wants to believe his father didn’t mean it like that, wasn’t placing Lucas as responsible for any of it, but it’s difficult. It’s always been a niggling thought in his mind, that automatic, self-centered response that let him believe in his childhood years that his mother’s illness was somehow his fault. It’s hard not to think of it as a possibility, when it only seemed to manifest a few years after he was born and escalated in his early teens.

Regardless of whether he should feel any guilt or not, he’s always done his best to make things easier, for her. He’s always tried to make sure she didn’t have to worry about him.

His dad had always been the one to tell him to give himself a break, to loosen up a bit and let himself go. Adamant that his mother wasn’t Lucas’s responsibility. That she was a fully grown adult, capable of taking care of herself, with a fully dedicated husband to be there when she couldn’t.

Only, Hugo turned out to be the one to not want the responsibility. To be overwhelmed. To abandon.

Even now, Lucas thinks he should have fought more. That if he’d just been more persistent, he wouldn’t have been forced to leave. He could have stayed and taken care of her. Or at least, he could be there to make sure she wasn’t alone.

Only, that wasn’t even his plan. He’d wanted to take it as the perfect excuse to move into the flatshare with his friends. His thoughts had been solely focused on himself, and what he would do if he was ripped away from his home and his school and his friends. What he would do if he had to stay and could barely buy himself food, and if he would be mocked now for being the kid with the crazy mother.

He’d hated himself for the thought then, and he’s constantly trying to make up for it now. It’s something Kes had always told him. That your first thought is only an automatic response—what you’ve been doctored to think. It’s the thought that comes after that matters—the realisation that the initial reaction was wrong, once you’ve had a chance to form your own opinion. Lucas had appreciated it the first time Kes told him that. He had, and still has, many of those ingrained thought processes. The idea that it’s simply an impulse reaction makes him feel like less of a bad person. He’s only bad initially because of society’s influence. It makes sense that he’d looked at his mother in the middle of her episode and thought ‘crazy’. It’s what he’d been programmed to think. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her. It doesn’t mean he’s a bad son. It doesn’t mean it was fair for him to be taken away.

It isn’t fair. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t.

Does he?

He thinks about calling Kes, now. Now that his chest no longer feels trapped in a vice grip, now that his mind has mostly stopped racing, now that his stomach isn’t heaving. He thinks calling Kes might actually make him feel worse. Not only will it remind him of how much he misses him, it’ll drive him crazy with the support. Because Kes will always support him and comfort him and right now, Lucas wants it too much and isn’t deserving enough.

Besides, it’s a Friday evening. Night, really, by this stage. Kes is probably out having fun. With Jayden, maybe, or Isa, or a whole group. He isn’t going to want to babysit Lucas. Lucas doesn’t want to ruin his night.

It’s a Friday night. He should be out having fun. Partying. With friends he doesn’t have.

He slips his phone out of his pocket and opens Instagram, navigating to his messages. He taps on one of his older conversations, looking at the message he got on Wednesday afternoon.

_amberxje: Hey Lucas, it’s Amber! I was trying to find you at school but I left it too late before class and you must have went home straight away. But there’s a party on Friday night that I wanted to invite you to. It’s technically a college party, but we’re very close to those hosting it, and I think it’d be lovely if you come! It’s a great way to meet new people :)

It was more than probably necessary, but maybe less than Lucas had expected. Amber had seemed like a talkative girl. While Lucas doesn’t really do talkative, he was glad of it that first day and he’s glad of it now. Amber has already sent him the address.

He’ll wait until his dad disappears to his room, usually sometime after nine, and then he’ll quietly head out.

A party might just be the best way to take his mind off of things.

[pi-cat000]

Girl who made the night sky: p5

NOTE: so I started writing this again this year but didn’t get very far. Here’s what I wrote if anyone was interested. I might post it on ao3 as well, not sure.

Summery: To return home Shikako splits herself infinitely across dimensions. A fault in one of the splits results in a discorporated Shikako stranded in the Naruto canon-verse.

Part 3, Part 4

Her alarm goes off just as the sun begins to peak between the buildings opposite her apartment block.  Sakura roles over to glare at the thin beam of light filtering through her window, catching in floating dust particles. Somewhere in the dark of her mind Kako shifts with amusement, prodding at her sluggish thoughts, pushing them into a state of awareness.

/Morning./ The word is said slowly, echoing with a lazy laughter. Sakura scowls, flopping over to hit the snooze on her alarm, yawning. She is still getting used to waking up at dawn and is thus completely reliant on her alarm to shake her from her sleep. A real shinobi would have enough control to wake up whenever they desired.

/Practise makes perfect,/ Kako says as if guessing the direction of her thoughts.

“Easy for you to say,” Sakura mutters, dragging herself up and yawning again. There is more idle amusement from Kako.

/Have a good day./

Slowly, the impression of Kako fades into the neutral baseline of just-Sakura, signalling that the other was asleep.

“I will,” Sakura comments in her renewed alone-ness.

Kako now slept during the day, leaving Sakura to her own devices. Whatever that not-dream had been, it had disturbed Kako enough that she now spent most of her ‘awake’ time watching over Sakura while she slept. This left only a few scant hours in the evening for discussion, conversation and hanging out together. Despite only having Kako around for a few months, Sakura already misses the other’s presence. Though their interactions had always been limited, reduced to scattered sentences and the occasional emotion, just having Kako listen to her ramblings or watch as she walked to and from the academy, studied or completed whatever other task she had set herself. Funny how much of a difference just having someone around and interested made even the most mundane parts of life. 

Discouraged by her own solitary thoughts, Sakura contemplates returning to bed and sleeping an extra hour. Not like Kako would know if she did. The notion passes quickly. Kako would be disappointed and the thought of disappointing Kako make her sad. Also, she was pretty sure it was dangerous for her and Kako to sleep at the same time. Sakura’s not an idiot. Even if Kako had yet to outright say it, she could put two and two together. Something bad had happened during the nightmare other than just giving them a fright. 

...

The rest of the morning progresses according to her new schedule. She dresses and packs her bag. With her collection of notebooks steadily increasing, it was starting bulge in the middle. The sooner she figured out how to properly make storage scrolls the better.

Next, she shuffles down to the kitchen, pulling together a meal with the correct amount of nutrients. Now Sakura is waking up before her mom, she has been forced to plan her own meals. Kako had been very helpful in that department, pushing her towards the type of diet she would need to help with muscle growth and keep her energy levels high throughout the day. It didn’t taste particularly nice, but it was functional, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the other non-clan kids knew about this sort of stuff. Meal planning was something they’d touched on in class but not something Sakura had bothered applying to her day-to-day life. Sure, she’d always tried to eat healthy but, like most things ninja related, there was a lot more to physical conditioning than just that being healthy.  It had only been a week but she has already noticed a marked improvement in her daily energy levels.

...

Sakura closes the door her apartment just as she begins to hear her parents start to shuffle around, preparing for their own workday. She takes a second to breath in the cool morning air before heading towards the old academy training grounds.

When she arrives the training area is empty like it usually is. Not a lot of academy students bothered coming out so early, especially not to this training spot which was in an awkward location. She hadn’t even known it existed till Kako pointed it out.

Another yawn.

A long sigh.

Sakura begins her warmup stretches, trying not to let the silence of her own mind bother her too much.

She is maybe halfway through the revised exorcize routine that Kako put together for her, when movement at the edge of the training field catches her attention.

It startles her enough that she almost trips through the final set. If Kako were awake Sakura might have had some warning as Kako was usually the one to sense and alert her to people approaching unexpectedly. Maybe she should work on her spatial awareness or lack thereof. She’ll add it to the list.

As it is, she thankfully doesn’t trip and embarrass herself because the person approaching is very familiar.

“Sasuke-kun!” She can’t help but call an enthusiastic greeting, waving. Sasuke freezes on approach, staring his usual blank stare. He blinks, expression shifting ever so slightly to surprise. Well, as surprised as someone as cool as Sasuke can be.

“Hello!” What were the chances of running into Sasuke outside of school hours? Practically zero. Ino would have a fit.

Saskue about-faces and walks in the opposite direction.

“Wait!” She starts to follow as the other quickly disappears into the trees encircling the training grounds.

“Do you want to train…” She hesitates, slowing, “with me…?”

Does she want Sasuke to see her huffing and puffing as she tries to make it past her tenth lap of the field? Her stamina is less than impressive and Sasuke always placed in her class’s top three when it came to combat and physical ability. She stops following. No way was she letting Sasuke see her like this.

If Kako was right, and she usually was, she would start seeing a physical improvement in another weeks time.

She pouts, trying not to feel too unmotivated.  Maybe…hopefully, she’ll see Sasuke out here again and ask to train then? Then she wouldn’t be a total embarrassment. Yes, a prefect plan. She resumes her exercises. Before Kako had come along, catching up to Sasuke would have seemed like an insurmountable task. Now Sakura’s seen what a real shinobi is capable of and said shinobi believes she is capable of the same things, it doesn’t seem as impossible. Goal reaffirmed, she tackles the rest of the morning with renewed energy.

...

Her day progresses as per usual. Sakura sits in class, takes notes, and revises on past topics when Iruka deviates between teaching and crowd control. When lunch break starts, she takes it as an opportunity to sit around the side of the building and examine her sealing notes. Away from her noisy peers, she has a chance to sort through all the stuff she’s been learning and figure out what questions she wants to ask Kako in those few hours they have together in the afternoon.

“Why do these seals use a bunch of descriptive kanji while this one is just a collection of stylistic lines?”

She mutters to herself, scanning the copies of Kako’s seal and her copies of Iruka’s notes on storage scrolls. The storage scrolls are easy enough to understand. The symbols and lines follow a logical progression, building on the basics she’d learnt while studying explosive tags. Kako’s seal is different…very different. Instead of easy to follow connections between the function and kanji, Kako’s seal is a simple circle, spiral and tomoki. Nothing else…No hint at what the lines might mean.

….

...

/Seal is collapsed…simplified. Needs expanding./

Is Kako’s somewhat confusing answer. After spending most of her lunch, then the following lesson mulling the question over, this is less than satisfying.

“What do you mean by needs expanding?” There is a long pause and Sakura waits for Kako to find the right words and energy to talk. Kako could almost communicate in full sentences now but it was still somewhat stilted.

/Not the full seal…simplified…smaller./

Sakura frowns, staring at her desk. Strewn across it are piles of notes, several bottles of ink she’s been infusing with charkha, and blank sealing paper. She had been half asleep at the time but she vaguely recalls how, on the night of Kako’s arrival, the seal had been a lot bigger, stretching across almost all her visible skin. 

“You mean this is only a small part of the seal and there’s more that I can’t see.” A wave of warm encouragement has Sakura continuing, “No, it’s more than that…all the seal is here it’s just…. just smaller…symbolic of the larger seal.”

/Compressed./ There’s a warm swell of pride like she’s just understood some tricky concept Kako’s been trying to impart

“Well …then how do I study it? How do I un-compress it?”

/An expansion seal./

She groans, “So…I need another seal to look at this seal.”

/Hmmm./

“Let me guess: That’s complicated as well.”

/Basics first./

Sakura rests her head on the desk, sighing.

[pestriddencarnivore]

Frankly, I send this ask to myself so I’d have an excuse, lmao: 

個性：Quirks change as children grow. How did that change come about in your muse? Was there ever any trouble?

This is basically half a quirk analysis at this point so uuuh, let’s begin...

Overhaul’s quirk works in three main steps: Disassembly, Rearrangement and Reassembly. As it is right now it breaks apart the bounds between atoms ( Disassembly ), then enables the user of manipulating the atom’s movements freely ( Rearrangement ) and finishes by creating new bounds between the particles ( Reassembly ). At any point within this process the user is also capable of simply ceasing his control and leaving the object in its disassembled state. ( By that point the atoms will form simple bonds by themselves according to the laws of nature. They will also do this if the bonds Overhaul forms are incorrect or incomplete. ) 

If the bounds of the target’s atoms are not strong enough the power of the quirk doesn’t transfer from one to another, hence why Chisaki can’t overhaul any gases or disjointed objects. Since the quirk transfers energy into the material it alters, Chisaki also learnt to redirect the energy in different ways which is why he for example was capable of moving about the spikes so freely. 

However it took until he was in his early 20s that Chisaki was capable of using his quirk so precisely, like blade that persistently became sharper with development. Likewise he only learnt to overhaul humans after extensive learning and training:

The quirk first manifested when Kai turned about 20 months old. At the time at most what he could do with it was making things fall apart into very rough, large pieces. Oftentimes however his quirk didn’t even achieve that, acting more akin to putting cracks into its target rather than properly breaking it apart in any way. The quirk already activated the same way as it does now, with a touch of any part of the inner side of his hand. As he usually didn’t use it intentionally and never focused on keeping control, disassembly was the only step Kai’s ever used at the time and it acted very randomly.

Naturally with the quirk doing whatever it pleased, it was the source of much trouble as he was in danger of potentially breaking whatever he touched; The most notable incident was when he accidentally used it on his own mother. Kai grew up being taught to be mindful of what he touched and especially to keep his hands away from other people, lest another disaster occurred. 

After his “adoption” training began for Kai to learn to control his quirk. Although it would take him many years, he eventually was capable of activating it with purpose and to keep control over the matter he had disassembled. Once that step was accomplished Kai started learning reassembly and rearrangement, first learning to return something to it’s original state and finally making attempts of changing it’s composition. 

It quickly became clear that the simpler the physical makeup of the target the easier it was for Kai to rearrange it. For most of the time he worked with inanimate objects, however shortly before he ran from the facility he’d grown up in they started testing his quirk on organisms. At the time it usually resulted in the death or complete destruction of the target. Though he did manage to attach a limb once ( it was unusable ). 

The issue was that the success of the Rearrangement step hinges on Chisaki’s understanding of the target. When he takes something apart his quirk keeps a temporary memory of the original makeup as reference, so technically he can always reassemble something the exact way he has disassembled it. However if he wants to rearrange the target he needs to know exactly what he is doing. If he reassembles a structure the wrong way it couple collapse under it’s own weight and if he rearranges an organism without knowing how it functions he is guaranteed to break it. 

It took Chisaki many years of extensive study anatomy to be capable of using his quirk the way he does now. He studied most of all humans but also different animals, insects, plants and other organic materials to learn how to overhaul them. It actually quite fascinates him and so he became quite skilled at it. However if something didn’t fall into his interests he is actually not very good at overhauling it, meaning he can’t just build anything he wants to. As a rule of thumb you can be sure he knows how to make an actual, living Chimera but don’t trust him to build a house, it’s not safe.

[3w-writer-with-wings]

Yu-Gi-Oh! Ending Theory (SPOILERS)

I was going to write this down sooner, but I just wanted to wait for a while so I don’t spoil too many people who haven’t seen the ending. If you haven’t seen it yet, stop reading right away and go check it out and then come back.

VRAINS is the first Yu-Gi-Oh! series that I’ve watched while it was ongoing completely and what can I say, those three years surely flew by in an instant. While I am a little be disappointed by how many plot points were ignored or not explored properly, VRAINS is still among the best-written series so far. I will make a more detailed post about VRAINS soon, but for now, I’ll be going through a theory that may explain a short scene during the ending.

As you may know, VRAINS managed to make an already tragic story even more tragic by killing off someone who was the closest thing to a friend Yusaku ever had. Not only that, even if Yusaku lost, Ai would just kill himself and take the world with him.

No matter what Yusaku had done, the simulations would’ve likely come true one way or another – with Yusaku dying and world ending. By killing himself, Ai assured neither of futures where Yusaku died would come true… but did he really save Yusaku with his sacrifice? Or did he actually cause him more pain than ever?

Remember this?

I know Yusaku refused to admit it back then but just think. Specter is the most emotionless character in all VRAINS and only cares about Ryouken and his tree monsters. And yet, he shed a tear and looked disturbed when seeing a corrupted version of Crystal Heart. He never met Earth but he still felt pain when losing him. So just how painful was that to Yusaku? He spent a long time with Ai and even if their relationship was rocky at first, their bond continued to grow.

We learnt in 117 that it was actually Ai who orchestrated the whole thing and pretty much used Yusaku as a tool to get revenge on Knights to Hanoi. But he likely never expected that he would shape a broken child into the hero of VRAINS that would also become his only friend. Without Ai, Yusaku would never become Playmaker and person he is today. With so many changes, Ai could no longer control his plan and as he was dying he probably knew he will be breaking Yusaku even more.

And now the question and the whole point of this theory:

How and why did Ai come back?

Some say that’s not Ai, some say this is Ai in the afterlife and some say this is just Yusaku’s wishful thinking. But I believe this is a real Ai… or at least part of him.

But how could this be possible? Ai said it himself that with his loss, every single part of him and his clones will be destroyed. While AIs can be replicated, Ai is an AI with free will based on an actual person. Even if Yusaku was put through another Lost Incident in order to recreate Ai, it wouldn’t work as Ai is based on his six-year-old self and not his sixteen-year-old self. Just how could Ai possibly come back?

Here is my answer:

It was Ryoken who brought Ai back.

Yeah pretty ironic that person who kept repeating how much he hates AIs and was dead set on obliterating entire network if that meant destroying Ignis, was the one to bring one single AI with free will back. And how exactly can this be possible?

But first, why would Ryoken do that in the first place? Well, season 1 Ryoken wouldn’t do that, but season 2 and 3 Ryoken? More likely.

No matter how you look at Ryoken, his story is just as sad and messed up as Yusaku’s. Constantly wondering what’s right and what’s wrong, Ryoken could see even through his father’s brainwashing that Lost Incident was wrong and even though he didn’t show it, he has great sympathy for Lost Children. Even his father noticed that he lost his cool when Yusaku mentioned Lost Incident. He was there when they were suffering and couldn’t do anything for half a year. Once he formed new Knights of Hanoi, he had new goals and one of them was most definitely to clean the mess that his father started and on behalf of it, he likely planned to make sure there are no more victims. He showed no mercy towards Windy when he found out that he killed his Lost Child and he couldn’t attack Jin when Lightning used him as his shield.

But one event fully confirmed that he indeed cared about Lost Children.

He dueled Takeru in order to help him move on. That single gesture showed just how much he has changed and how much he cares about the victims of Lost Incident. He not only took on Takeru’s challenge just so Takeru could release the anger that has been gathering inside of him for the past ten years. He acknowledged the fact that Flame was Takeru’s compass after Lost Incident took everything from him and wanted to teach him how to walk the path alone on his own. He turned himself into Takeru’s pain and wanted him to defeat him so he may be able to live without being bound to his past. Even when Takeru won, Ryoken went a step further and said he’s willing to surrender himself to police, taking his father’s punishment if that would mean that Lost Children will be able to live in peace from that point on.

But the duel was enough for Takeru and instead of jail time, Takeru wanted him to continue doing what he has been doing so far – protecting network so they may never be another Lost Incident ever again.

While Takeru found his peace and managed to learn how to move on without Flame, Yusaku probably didn’t. And knowing how close he and Ai were, Ryoken likely doubted that a duel would help him the same way it helped Takeru. So why was he so confident during this scene?

Takeru was a mess after losing Flame and Yusaku probably suffered even more after losing Ai. At that point, no duel or talk would help, no matter how many times Yusaku claimed that Ryoken saved him and is capable of saving people. It is also possible that Ryoken did try to help him through a duel, but he couldn’t find Yusaku anywhere for three months. No one knows where Yusaku has been for so long nor what he was doing. But Ryoken likely found out that it was Ai who turned Yusaku into Playmaker and seeing no other way, he went back to work in order to bring back what made Yusaku strong – Ai. And judging from this scene, he was successful.

We know well that Ryoken is capable of creating an AI with free will and what’s more – he made it so the AI can no longer see humans as inferior to them or hate them. The only reason why Ai was doomed to cause world destruction and therefore Yusaku’s death, was likely because he absorbed Lightning – Ignis who had no future with humans in the first place. Maybe, just maybe Ryoken could save Ai by implanting that program in him, but from the looks of it, Ai was already far too advanced at that point for any program to change him. When he let Yusaku duel Ai he probably knew the outcome and couldn’t do anything to change it, even if he would hand out that program to Yusaku. In all cases, Ai would be gone.

But what if that program worked? Well not on Ai, but Ai’s data!

Remember all the way to episode one? When Ryoken attacked Cyberse World?

Ryoken’s dragon took almost all of Ai’s body, so in one way or another he got a hold on Dark Ignis. The only reason why they were after what was left of him was because he was a threat like other Ignis and to destroy them all, they needed a location of Cyberse World. And that single eye that was left of Ai had the map to Cyberse.

Even though a majority of his body was destroyed, that single eye was still enough to find his Lost Child and use him as a weapon to get his home back. Ai patiently played the role of the hostage and waited for the right opportunity – to get the rest of his body back.

After Yusaku won, Ai hardly waited to get his body back and outright gobbled Ryoken’s arm in order to get it back. But from the looks of it, he didn’t take everything. While he got his body back, there was likely a part of him that Ryoken still had and wanted it back at all cost. If it weren’t for Dr. Kogami, Ai would probably get that part too. I bet that part was Ai’s data – not body that he took, but part of Ai’s will.

Ryoken so actually had all the ingredients to recreate Ai and give Yusaku back the part he lost. It likely took a long time, considering he was also busy with clearing up VRAINS and protecting it. He also knew that Yusaku possessed Link Sense and will be able to follow it if he were to locate Ai.

So once a new Ai was created, completed with a program that will prevent him from harming humans, Ryoken just needed to place it somewhere where only Yusaku will find him.  

Ryoken had faith in Yusaku and knowing he cannot move on without Ai, he did one last thing as a true knight he was. There was no doubt he knew how dangerous Ai and other Ignis were and the reason why he wanted to destroy Ai was to protect Yusaku from him. But with Ai gone, he realized that Dark Ignis was far more to Yusaku than he thought and decided to bring him back.

With this act, Ryoken likely got his closure as well, knowing the last victim of Lost Incident will finally be happy and will no longer suffer from the pain his father caused.

[thekingsparty]

supernatural-based warlock verse, following canon-ish

fergus roderick macleod was born in scotland in 1661, a clumsy child with a pure heart nonetheless. always striving to earn his mother’s love & respect, he watched her day by day & not only because the other children in town mocked him for being the witch’s son... no. he adored his mother, he wanted to learn magic. inexperienced & nervous, he failed at early experiments & his mother doomed him useless, convinced the gift had skipped him as it sometimes did. 

when fergus turned eight years old she left him with no warning, she promised to be back, but she wasn’t. aging boys needed strength, they are much more than babe’s, so fergus was pushed around between local families until exiled into the world of adults. he picked up a lot of survival skills on the streets, he learnt hunger & the satisfaction to find enough food to last for a day or two. 

he was taken in by an old tailor years after, a man with not wife or heir & a serious alcohol problem. fergus was treated harshly, but at the end of the day, living with the old tailor gave him food & a roof over his head for the first time in years. he was taught the way of the tailor, but despite the deep-rooted hatred for his mother, fergus never lost interest in magic. when free or alone in the shop, he would practice spells he remembered from his mother. (he always watched her closely, ever since he was a little boy, remembering the spells to impress one day.) turned out he was capable of magic, he’d seemingly just needed patience. 

he took over the shop one day as planned, which was in his early twenties & around the same time he was discovered by the witched hiding in town. the coven. the hatred for his mother got him in, the witches hesitant to greet a boy into their ranks, but desperate times... desperate measures. they trained him, they taught him control. despite being of half-blood, fergus turned out quite skilled once he knew how to funnel his power properly. together with those witched his mother seemingly betrayed, they searched for her for centuries. crowley aged, but slowly. 

the end of the coven brought him into the world of the supernatural. he’s a warlock for hire, selling potions & spells - mere promises to the foolish while hoping to bring the coven back to what it used to be. a force of nature. 

skills (not all, but a few examples): 

portals

psychokinetic magic 

his favorite weapon is a sword that’s on fire ;)

potions of any kind

mind control (limited duration)

note: 

crowley is theoretically the same, only he never became a demon & therefore didn’t become king of hell - his character is identical though

money & power are important to him, more important than anything

he knows the winchesters, helped them here & there (unless plotted otherwise), also helps other hunters

he isn’t on any side, he’s on his own side, so he will help monsters & hunters alike so long as they’ve got the coin

he strives to find & kill his mother

instead of teleporting like we’re used to, he can create portals to go through, which is almost as quick as teleporting

over the years he learnt a lot, he’s a very smart man

he has a vast collection of tomes & magical objects

possible plots: 

your muse is a hunter & in a fickle when crowley comes by to help

your muse is also a witch/warlock :o and we have magic friendos

your muse is a hunter & after crowley

your muse killed crowley’s favorite hound & he’s out for blood

your muse has something crowley wants for his collection & he will do anything to get it 

and and and...

[arosnowflake]

hey can I rant for a second about how good FMA’s magic worldbuilding is? because it’s really really good.

In general, I prefer soft magic systems, because I like my magic with a large dose of whimsy, but FMA has probably the hardest magic system I’ve ever seen and does it brilliantly. FMA needed a hard magic system because a large part of the plot relies on subverting alchemy’s predictability. If alchemy was normally unpredictable, than a variety of plot points would completely fall apart.

A good example of this is Father’s control of Amestris’s alchemy and the scene in the climax where the Ishvalans help to form a counter transmutation circle against it. If we didn’t know exactly how alchemy worked, what its source was, and what its limits are, then we wouldn’t be able to understand the importance of that scene, and it would fall flat on its face. 

But we also see this way earlier on in the story; in fact, with the very premise and how it ties into the first arc, the Cornello Arc. Alchemy, in-universe, is a science, and therefore follows strict rules, the most important of which is the law of equivalent exchange. This is how we’re already clued into the idea that resurrecting the dead, which Father Cornello claimes to be capable of, is probably bullshit; we, the audience, know that anything that’s ‘equivalent’ to a human soul is probably immoral to attain at best, and impossible to attain at worst. This is confirmed later in the arc, when Father Cornello turns out to be a fraud, and then re-affirmed in the Elrics’ backstory, showing that even alchemical geniuses like them must bend to the rules of the universe. 

But in this same arc, we are also introduced to the concept of a ‘get out of jail free card’ in the form of the Philosopher’s Stone, which the Elrics want to use to defy God one last time and regain their bodies. We see that even a fake/depowered Philosopher’s Stone like Father Cornello’s is capable of giving you incredible power. So then, later, when we are introduced to the concept of a true Philosopher’s Stone, we know to be afraid, not just because of this, but because we’ve spent a series seeing brutal fights between fair-and-square alchemy; someone gaming the system is already a terrifying idea, when we haven’t even properly seen what it can do.

But still, even this method of gaming the system still fits within its established magic system and isn’t just a mcguffin to raise the stakes; Philosopher’s Stones utilize the souls of people who were sacrificed to make them to create alchemical reactions that seemingly defy the law of equivalent exchange. In reality, they are never defying this; they are simply using a different energy source that works by different rules. This is the first time we are introduced to this concept. 

And this is later expanded on when we meet Mei for the first time, and Alkahestry is introduced. Alkahestry is basically just Xingese alchemy, but bears the important distinction of using a different source than alchemy, namely the life force of the planet itself (the so-called ‘Dragon’s Pulse’). While the things that Alkahestry can do (heal wounds, use long-distance transmutation circles) are foreign to Amestrian alchemy, this makes sense considering the fact that they have different energy sources and were developed with different goals in mind (and by different people, as we learn later). It’s a natural evolution in-universe, which helps with the believably of the wordlbuilding, and the introduction of Alkahestry cements the concept of ‘life force’ as a viable energy source that you can use to do transmutations with.

So when we see living Philospher’s Stones like Hohenheim and Father completely ignore the rule of Equivalent Exchange on a scale that even regular Philospher Stones can’t afford, we accept that immediately because we’ve already been shown, multiple times over (also with the Homunculi, although I didn’t touch on that), that this is a valid possibility within the rules of the universe; they are still adhering to the rule of Equivalent Exchange, but they simply have a lot more energy to form things with than regular people, so they can do seemingly impossible things. 

This is also why the scene where Ed gets impaled in Baschool works: we have been shown, multiple times over, that life force is a genuine energy source that you can use to create things with and - more prominently - affect living things with. So when Ed comes up with the idea to use his own life force to seal his wound, it’s surprising, sure, but it’s also completely plausible within the universe that Arakawa’s built up. Ed isn’t inventing a new type of alchemy on the fly or stretching the rules of the universe paper thing; he’s using what he’s learnt about alkahestry and Philosopher’s Stones on his journey to get out of a serious problem with an unconventional but completely plausible idea. In any other work, this would’ve been a mcguffin activated by the protagonist’s plot armor; in this one, this is a plausible if unexpected move that’s been built up throughout the entire work.

And so too is the ending. Ed giving up his Gate and therefore his alchemy in order to bring Alphonse back, body and soul and all, comitting the closet thing to human transmutation that’s possible. This is breaking the rules. It is. But not in a universe-breaking, deus ex machina kind of way.

We’ve known throughout the series that being without a Gate exist; those are the Homunculi. We also know that proper human transmutation, with people who have died and passed through to the afterlife, is impossible. But Al hasn’t passed on to the afterlife; his soul has returned to his body, which we’ve seen it’s been wanting to do for a long time and would’ve done eventually, and he’s now waiting in front of the Gate. Ed doesn’t need to pull off a true human transmutation; just something very close to it. And we already know it’s possible to pass through someone else’s Gate back to the normal world; we’ve established this earlier, when Ed, Ling, and Envy escaped Gluttony’s stomach.

So Ed giving up his Gate (and with it, his alchemy) to bring Al back to the normal world and passing through Al’s Gate to do so is, like Baschool, an unexpected and daring solution, but one that’s completely substantiated by everything that we know about alchemy. The rules of the universe, itself, aren’t broken.

But thematically, they are. Ed gets Alphonse back, he has gained more friends and family than he’s ever had before, and he can now live a happy life. And what did he really give in return? His alchemy. But, as he points out, losing this doesn’t really change him all that much in the end; he is still the same ordinary person as he was with alchemy. 

As many people have pointed out, FMA’s message is that Equivalent Exchange is bullshit. But the actual magic mechanic of Equivalent Exchange is never broken; rather, the theme of ‘Equivalent Exchange’ being a good way to live your life by is deconstructed and ultimately proven to be false. Because at the end, you can give more than you get, and you can get more than you give, and that is fine. That is good. 

Fullmetal Alchemist’s magic system isn’t just amazing because of its high level of internal consistency, but because of how it contrasts with the ultimate theme of the show, which is why Ed losing his alchemy is the best thematically ending this series could’ve gotten. 

[megalony]

This isn’t love

Another dad! Ben Hardy imagine that is part of my ‘Swimming’ series of Ben as a single dad. Mentions of abuse.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae  @likeit-or-leaveit  @they-call-me-peaches  @mcrmarvelloki  @bensrhapsody

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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

Stepping back rather quickly Emily braced her hand on the wall beside her when the elder girl barrelled past her just as she was about to knock on the door. Emily watched the chocolate haired girl disappear with tears in her eyes and an angered expression on her face, her frame disappearing around the corner quicker than lightning.

Composing herself Emily took a moment to gain back her breath before she leaned around the wall to peer into the apartment her brother and his girlfriend shared. Her eyes widening at the sight before her.

Daring to step into the apartment the ash blonde closed the door behind herself before she speeded over to her elder sibling who was sat on the floor. Ben was leaning up against the arm of the sofa, knees pulled up to his stomach as his hand tangled in his hair gripping at the short strands. His other hand pressing to the left side of his temple as a groan escaped his lips as he felt himself beginning to shake.

Glancing his eyes up Ben sighed when his eyes locked onto his sister as she knelt down beside him, fear evident in her hazel orbs that were scanning him as if checking for injuries. Ben wasn't sure if he was relieved to see his sister right now or afraid, because he knew the conversation that was going to come up and he dreaded how she was going to take the answer he had to give. Reaching out a cautious hand Emily gently wrapped her fingers around Ben's hand, pulling it away from his temple to reveal what he seemed to be hiding behind his palm. His eyes watering at seeing her face fall like the strings holding it up had been snipped. A small sob escaping her lips as she reached a hand out to the cut just above his brow.

"I'm alright Em." He whispered, his voice barely reaching her ears as she couldn't stop the tears from welling in her eyes and jumping free from her lashes.

"What happened?" Her voice wobbled as she was unable to control it. Her thumb brushing over the cut to his temple to brush away the blood, her breaths shaking as she pressed her hand to the side of his face. Her thumb brushing over his cheekbone, watching as Ben leaned into the touch as his heart hammered away in his chest.

"Pushed me, caught my head on the table." He swallowed harshly after the words left his lips, his hand indicating to the corner of the coffee table to his left.

Emily couldn't do this anymore.

She couldn't keep coming round to the flat to find out more and more abuse was happening without her knowledge or any repercussions. She had only just learnt that Ben was suffering at the hands of his girlfriend a month ago and since then every time she seemed to see her brother Emily burst into tears. Today was no different, she had come round for their weekly catchup where they would usually go out for a drink and now she found her brother had been hurt. The moment she found out about the toxic relationship Emily told Ben to leave, but he couldn't. He was afraid and he didn't know what to do, but leaving just didn't seem to be a viable option right now.

But Emily wouldn't stand for this anymore. There was no way that Emily could continue to come round and visit her brother in fear and turmoil over whether he had been subjected to any abuse or whether he had escaped it for a day or two. It wasn't fair to him in any sense.

Ben wasn't fighting back. He felt unable to even dare to hit his girlfriend when she found it so easy to cause him harm. He could shout when she verbally attacked him and he could walk away, but becoming physical or lowering himself to her level of verbal abuse was something he could never find it in himself to do. And if he couldn't do that or find it in himself to leave, then Ben was essentially trapping himself.

"You're coming home with me. I'm not letting this happen anymore, the bitch can go to hell for what she's done to you."

Resting his hand over her own Ben moved his head so he could kiss the palm of her hand. His eyes telling her that he couldn't go along with her words which caused a broken sob to leave her lips as she felt herself beginning to shake. Why wouldn't he just let her save him?

"No, no Ben please. Just listen to me, you can live with me okay? We can share a home and I'll keep you safe, she doesn't know where I live you can be free I swear. I can't let her do this to you, what if I come round and your unconscious o-or I'm too late to save you? I can save you now, you just have to let me do this for you." Emily rested both her hands either side of his face, making sure he was looking at her properly as she brushed away the relentless tears streaming down his face. His head shaking as he just couldn't do that.

"Em, I can't."

"Why not?" Emily gently shook his head as if to try and force him to realise what he was saying. She was throwing him a lifeline here, and he was refusing to take it seemingly preferring to drown.

"She's pregnant."

Ben had never seen his sister sob in such agony like this before, and he felt broken at knowing he was the reason for this. His hand moved to gently caress the back of her head when she pressed her face into his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt. He held her to his chest as they both cried.

He couldn't leave now, because if he did he would be waving away the rights to see his child and protect them from the monster they would have for a mother. She well and truly had a hold over Ben now and he had no escape even if Emily thought she could save him, this time she couldn't. If Ben left he knew she would leave, the flat was in his name and she would leave. Ben wouldn't be able to find her and his child would be out there at risk of suffering the way he did. There was no way he could do that to his flesh and blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You think this is love?" The words passed through Ben's lips as he felt his shoulders falling. His eyes welling over with tears as he stared at the girl stood in front of him who he had been with for almost three years.

Ben knew what love felt like, and this wasn't it anymore.

The moment he had met her Ben knew there was something about her, but it took a year of digging to find that what lied beneath was something he wished he'd never found. He saw a person standing in front of him now who he didn't recognise. Ben was looking at a person who was only capable of hurt, someone who had taken the love Ben gave her and crushed everything he had in return. She took Ben's trust, she took his love and she took everything else he offered in return for breaking his soul and trying to do the same to his mind and body.

The blonde thought he could change her. He thought the love he felt for her would be enough to stop what she was starting, but love was never enough no matter how hard you tried.

There were moments Ben could see a future. Moments when he thought this could work. Ben had seen those futures flash before his eyes when Lola was born, those last two months of the pregnancy Ben saw something and he felt so much relief when it flashed in front of him. Taunting him as he reached out for it only for them to disappear with the wind. Lola didn't change the situation, she only made Ben see the only decision there was for him to make. She hadn't gotten better now they were parents, within a week the old ways had come swooping back to her and Ben couldn't do this.

He had snapped and he'd shouted for the first proper time in their relationship. He screamed at her that he was not putting his daughter in danger because he loved her and he wasn't deserving of the pain he was being subjected to. Ben screamed that this was his flat and if he had to he would call the police to get her out because his daughter needed to be safe and with her here she was not safe. He'd let her back into the apartment today to collect her things he'd packed, and he wasn't backing down on his decision for them to split up. Nor was Ben allowing her to walk out of here with their daughter.

"This isn't love, this is hell." Ben felt the anger rising in him as she stared at him as if she didn't know what he was talking about when she knew exactly what he was referring to. "Love isn't bullying your partner into staying, it isn't throwing punches because you know they can't fight back. Love doesn't mean you can talk to me the way you do and claim it's because you love me. It doesn't mean you trap me here and expect me to back down, and it doesn't mean you can put Lola through any of what you did to me."

Love meant respect, it meant helping one another and it meant being there for the other person. At no point did the definition of love state that you could impose harm onto the person you claimed to love. Nor did it state you could talk to them in such an abusive and harsh way and expect that to be defined as your feelings for them.

Ben knew their love had been lost, and what was left was a poison he was inhaling every second he was around the woman in front of him. Lola couldn't be put through that, she couldn't grow up in an environment created around fear and pain. She was a baby, she was a new and perfect life that Ben would not see harmed or damaged in any kind of aspect.

"I know I've done bad things, but we need to be together... for Lola. I love you and I never show it right-"

"Would you stay with me if I punched you?" Ben watched a mix of emotions flood her pupils. Fear that he was making some kind of threat that he might just go along with for the first time in their relationship, and an emotion that was daring him to go through with it just so she could have that extra hold over him. Ben would never be stupid enough to give her that advantage over him.

"What if I pushed you into the table, or if I broke your ribs? Maybe you would feel the need to stay if I emotionally abused you and told you how shit you really are, and how bad you are at your job, or that I know for a fact your a God awful parent. Maybe if I told you you'd never see Lola again if you left me. Would all of that make you stay with me?"

The crocodile tears leaving her eyes did nothing to make Ben feel bad or like he was about to crumble into pieces and let her back into his life and home. This was his home, this was where he was raising his daughter alone and there was no place for her here.

"You'd tell the police and they'd lock me up because that's abuse, it isn't love and your sick to think this is fair. I'm not doing this anymore because I don't deserve what you're doing and neither does Lola so get out." Ben knew no one deserved what she was putting him through, but he felt obliged to stay because they were having a child together. If he walked away he would be leaving a new life in her hands that were only good for giving out evil to the world. He would leave his flesh and blood to be emotionally and physically abused to save his own skin, and Ben would never be able to sleep at night knowing he had done that.

He stayed to take any abuse she threw at him to save his daughter from getting the same treatment, but now Ben had an escape. He had the ability to tell her to leave because Lola was born, she was here and he could stop her from taking Lola with her when she left.

"If I go, Lola's coming with me."

Backing up to the hallway Ben plastered his hand against the right wall, his body effectively blocking the entrance to where Lola's room was. Due to the height difference, Ben was an effective boulder in her path that she would need to batter and bruise in order to get past, and even then Ben wouldn't be letting her out of the flat with Lola in her grasp. This was his home with his daughter and Ben wasn't living in fear anymore.

"My daughter isn't going anywhere with you."

"Our daughter!" Her words spat back at him, her eyes narrowing as her face hardened at his words.

"My. Daughter." Ben pushed the words through gritted teeth as he leaned his head forward so they were level, she wasn't getting to him that easily today. "You think that I'll let you take her when I've seen what you're capable of? How do I know you won't hit her if she annoys you or if she's just being herself? How can I be sure you won't neglect her or take away any confidence she gets in the future because that's what you do. You ruin people in the worst way and you don't give a shit. No, my daughter is staying with me and your leaving my home."

Ben thought for one split second that he had done it.

He thought his words laced with the truth had been enough to push her out, to get rid of her and show her that what she had been doing wasn't going to last anymore. Ben wasn't having this and he was making sure to protect the new life resting in the other room behind him at all costs.

That one second disappeared, and the next one along brought a wave of fear flowing through Ben's stomach giving him the urge to throw up. His body tensing as he stood straight at seeing the knife clenched in her hand.

Why was she deciding to do this?

What would threatening Ben do, really? How did she think Ben would back down if she pulled a knife on him? This only proved his point further, Ben couldn't let her take Lola or even be around his daughter because she could easily do something like this to Lola or in her presence and that was not something a child should go through. Seeing her do this was only going to further prove to Ben that he needed to protect Lola at all costs, he didn't care if she slashed or stabbed him, it would give him an advantage to making sure Lola stayed here with him where she belonged.

"Put it down." His words were calm though his heart was rocketing out of his chest at the speed of light.

"Let me go with our daughter." She raised the knife to him but Ben didn't move an inch like she expected or wanted him to. The both of them knew that she wouldn't hurt him with the knife, it was too dangerous to her if she did. Ben could go to the hospital and call the police and he would have evidence of her attacking him. She was only trying to put him down and get her own way like she always did, this was a threat that Ben knew was backed up by nothing.

"Stab me, show me that kind of love you always do. I'm not letting you take my girl and if you hurt me I just get it on record at the hospital. Do one good thing in your life and leave."

Ben's words were not shouted, nor were they threatening or rude. They were backed by no emotion but exhaustion as he begged for her to leave. She had no choice here but for her to stop, it was finally the time for her to let Ben be free from all the pain she caused him. He wasn't her punchbag anymore, he was free and she needed to see that and to let him be.

"Why are you doing this?!" Her words were shouted as she slammed her hand into his chest allowing the knife to fall to the floor, trying to push him out the way as a flurry of words escaped her lips that Ben paid no mind to. He held his hands out at his sides showing he wasn't going to fight her, walking backwards as she continued to hit him in the chest, the arms and even the neck as he continued to slowly walk back.

His right hand reaching out and grasping the handle of the door which he opened before sidestepping into. Slamming the door shut in her face, his left hand holding the door closed as his right reached out for the chair resting to the side. Propping it under the handle to stop her from entering the room he effectively shut himself inside. Sitting down on the chair so she wouldn't be able to budge his weight as he got his phone out from his pocket.

It was time to call the police.

[spyder-m]

By My Shoulder

Summary: Jaune twists his ankle while training with Pyrrha and needs to be taken to the infirmary. It’s a good thing his partner is there to pick him up when he’s down. Literally.

Ao3 / FF.net

.

Under Pyrrha’s tutelage, Jaune was steadily growing into a capable, more confident fighter.

Having spent the past few months trapped in his own head, any hope of making progress had always hindered by the doubts, the small, demeaning voices that plagued his thoughts.

The beatings he would endure during sparring class did not compare to the mental berating he would subject himself to afterward.

It was refreshing a change to hear Pyrrha’s patient encouragement, the praise she would give him for even the slightest improvement.

It was thanks to her, that his efforts didn’t feel as futile.

Still, Jaune knew he had a long way to go before he could even approach his friends, his teammates, and there was one hurdle, in particular, he was still struggling to overcome.

His clumsiness.

By learning the correct stances and distributing his weight properly, his balance was improving and he could put more power and precision into his strikes.

Yet, in times of danger, his body would still react faster than he could think; recall the proper stance, or way to parry an attack. Any learnt technique was overwritten by his nerves, his instinct to survive.

This proved especially difficult when Pyrrha proposed that they finish up their practice session with a spar.

Though Jaune suspected Pyrrha would not be putting all she had into this fight, she was still not an opponent he wanted to take lightly.

He had seen the former three-time Mistral Champion in action, fighting alongside her as she effortlessly picked apart Grimm or other Hunters. The mere thought of being on the other side of that onslaught was unnerving.

Still, Jaune couldn’t back away from the challenge.

For Pyrrha to offer to spar him; even semi-seriously; was perhaps the highest compliment he could receive.

It spoke of the potential she saw in him and how she felt he was progressing. After all she had done to help him, Jaune needed to take this seriously. He didn’t want to disappoint her.

Besides, if he couldn’t muster the courage to make it through a friendly spar, where would he ever find the gal to risk his life for the sake of others?

Though, as Pyrrha soared above him, Milo lifted high over her head, he could feel his earlier rush of determination quickly dissipating.

Jaune swallowed, trying to keep his breath steady as his heart pounded heavily against his rib-cage. It’s okay, he thought. We’ve had gone through this all before. All he needed was to bend his knees and raise his shield.

Time seemed to slow as Jaune lifted his arm, captivated by Pyrrha’s fierce expression zeroing in on him; the crimson trail of her hair flickering behind her as she sailed gracefully through the air.

The image rattled him, that one coherent thought he had managed to grasp, slipping from his mind.

The distraction, though fleeting, was enough for Jaune to have not properly braced himself against Pyrrha’s attack; the impact of Milo clattering against his shield sending him stumbling back off balance.

Abruptly trying to brace himself, Jaune took the entire weight of his body on his right ankle, feeling it awkwardly give way under the pressure. A sharp burn worked its way up Jaune’s foot, and he exhaled through the gaps in his teeth. His breath carried in a sharp, pained hiss, one that did not go unnoticed by Pyrrha.

“Jaune!” She exclaimed, turning to the prone form of her partner. Immediately, she set Milo down and stooped by his side. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Jaune groaned, gingerly sitting up.

Instinctively, he reached to pull off his boot, wanting to examine the extent of the injury.

His foot throbbed painfully at the fleeting contact and Jaune’s hand ripped away with a flinch.

“Jaune!” Pyrrha repeated, concern rising in her voice. “I’m sorry! I should have hit so hard on that last blow. You were just doing so well.”

“Hey, it’s not like it was your fault,” Jaune muttered bitterly, his old habit of chastising himself returning full-force.

It was bad enough that he hadn’t followed Pyrrha’s teaching properly and had hurt himself, but now she was feeling guilty over his careless mistake. Gods, even just practicing he couldn’t do anything right. He really was pathetic.

Pyrrha frowned at the sudden shift in Jaune’s demeanour. She had seen this from him before, back when he had been spending all his time with Cardin, keeping his team at a distance.

She couldn’t allow Jaune to sink to such a funk again, especially after the progress he had been making.

Laying her hand gentle on his shoulder, she offered a comforting smile.

“Your aura should be more than strong enough to heal that injury.” She reassured. “Once it replenishes, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Still, I think we should stop by the infirmary. Just to be safe.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Jaune nodded, moving to stand but wincing at the weight pressuring his ankle.

“Oh.” Pyrrha exclaimed. “I didn’t realise your injury was that bad. Here, let me…”

Pyrrha quickly slipped Jaune’s arm over her shoulder, supporting his weight, ensuring his body didn’t give out again.

Thinking Pyrrha was offering to help him walk the rest of the way to Infirmary, Jaune turned for the stairwell. Pyrrha’s grip, however, remained firm, holding him in place. Puzzled, Jaune glanced over, his eyebrow lifting as her left arm slunk around the back of his knees.

Before he could find his voice, Jaune; prone to motion sickness; felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably as he was promptly and abruptly lifted from the ground, and into Pyrrha’s arms.

The urge to dry heave was tempered by a familiar scent flooding his nostrils, as his head was cushioned against her chest plate.

“P- Pyrrha?!” Jaune sputtered, his initial confusion dissipating. “What are you doing?!”

“Hmm? What does it look like?” she answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Your ankle clearly can’t support your weight. I’m going to have to carry you.”

At another point, Jaune might have stubbornly refused Pyrrha’s help; embarrassed by his shortcomings, his pride bruised for having to rely on someone else. He would have thought that this moment of weakness sullied his image and standing as a team leader.

(Though, with how securely Pyrrha’s arms surrounded him, he couldn’t imagine his protests would have accomplished much.)

Right now, however, while he was still frustrated at his carelessness, he found the haze engulfing him… pleasant; a bright, reassuring presence he had come to link inherently with Pyrrha.

It was comforting to know that he could depend not just on her, but all of his teammates, his friends. That the daunting task of training to becoming a Huntsman, the family legacy he sought to uphold, didn’t seem quite as heavy a burden with them at his side.

“Oh. A- alright then,” Jaune stammered. “L- lead the way, I guess.”

As Pyrrha moved towards the exit, he was conscious of how easily she had taken him into her arms. How she was carrying him effortlessly, showing little signs of fatigue from the training session they had just finished, and confident that she could keep him upright the entire way.

It shouldn’t have surprised him.

Even in Beacon, a school trained warriors, she was taller and stronger than most other girls.

As her teammate, he practiced with her regularly, getting knocked back by hits he knew weren’t using her entire strength.

Unlike Yang’s semblance that enhanced her physical capabilities, or the speed that propelled Ruby forward, Pyrrha seemed to draw power largely from her strong physique.

The sleeveless corset she wore exposed her muscular arms; the sweat coating her skin, highlighting how they tensed and relaxed with each strike she parried.

He’d watched her practically powerbomb Cardin in Professor Goodwitch’s sparring class not that long ago. While Jaune was still wearing his armour and had an extra inch of height on Pyrrha, he was clearly much lighter than CRDL’s leader.

Still, it was another thing to feel her strength, firsthand; feeling the muscles in her arms flexing from the exertion of lifting him.

Jaune flushed as he became acutely aware of just how strong his partner’s arms were, as she kept him securely braced against her chest; doing her best not to bump him around and exasperate the injury.

The care in her gentle touch as she carried, showed the obvious control she exuded over it. Pyrrha glanced down with a gentle smile, warm green eyes engulfing.

“Are you alright, Jaune?”

“Y- yeah…”

“Don’t feel too bad. I mean what I said earlier. You were really keeping up.”

“Oh, come on. Like I’d believe that.” Jaune scoffed, an easy, joking tone that was much more familiar.

Though from the way his cheeks coloured, Pyrrha suspected his dismissal had only been half-hearted; that her words of praise had actually touched him.

Already the pattern of resentment he had already been slipping back into was lifting, the pain of the failure weighing upon him less heavily.

With Pyrrha by his side, those feelings of helplessness, the sense that he couldn’t accomplish anything were easily quashed. For, he was reassured that as often as he fell, Pyrrha always would be there to pick him up.

Turning his head, Jaune tucked himself closer against the warmth of her chest.

Honestly, there was probably no safer place for him to be.