#oh and I help people figure out the depth of cuts or if somethings infected

[yippie-madness]

cant kill myself because someone needs to tell people that the shblr tags are not for kink and a lot of the people that use them are minors and someone needs to correct all the really awful first aid advice

[link4eva]

Kiro’s Chanting Praise Date Translation [CN]

Hi, everyone! Just a couple of notes before you begin reading. I don’t actually know Chinese so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with help from @keliosyfan​. Thank you! 💛

The translation below contains spoilers for a date not yet released in the ENG server so please don’t look below the cut if you don’t want to be spoiled.

You can read the call that comes before the date here!~

Hope you enjoy!~

*Spoilers for future content below!*

In the depths of the Golden Palace, there is a silver-haired prince.

His palace gate is always shut and no one can enter

His figure is covered by shadows and he has never seen the sun.

His voice was cursed by a demon and could not be heard.

Guard: Find him!!

Guard: Where did he go?

Disharmonious sounds suddenly sounded in the lively market. The sound of footsteps hurriedly came from afar, arousing the curiosity of the vendors.

The guards were fierce-looking. They were wielding scimitars and looked as though they were searching for someone. One of the guards walked up to me and looked me up and down a few times.

Guard: Hey, woman. 

Guard: Did you see a kid in a cloak passing by?

MC: No. I’ve been here the whole time and haven’t seen any strange people.

MC: Has the kid in question committed anything?

Guard: Humph, just a little mouse that sneaked into our master’s house!

Guard: I’ll ask you again, are you sure you haven’t seen this person? If you dare to lie….

He raised the sharp scimitar as he spoke. I couldn’t help but shrink back as I tried to keep my voice calm.

MC: I would never dare to lie to the great Lord Jinsha. I really haven’t seen this person.

MC: You can prove it by asking the person next to you!

The guard looked around. As expected, the other vendors waved to him and said that they hadn’t seen him. He snorted angrily.

Guard: Since you haven’t seen him, don’t get in the way!

The guard pushed me against the wall and ran to the other end of the alley.

After watching the family members disappear, I quietly patted the big wooden basket behind me.

MC: Alright, it’s ok to come out.

??: ….! 

The wooden basket shook slightly and the straw on top was pushed aside by a slender hand, revealing messy blond hair under the cloak and a pair of bright blue eyes.

The blond kid poked out half of his head and looked side to side before smiling up at me.

MC: Don’t worry, no one ratted you out.

The vendors all around showed friendly smiles to the kid. He pulled off his mask in relief.

The kid jumped out of the wooden basket swiftly and gave me a brilliant smile.

??: But you are the one I should be most grateful for!

??: My name is Kiro. What about you?

MC: My name is MC.

Kiro: MC….

He said my name again and nodded.

Kiro: Well, I’ll remember your name and I will repay you in the future! 

He said this as he put on his cloak. As he was about to leave, I grabbed his wrist.

MC: I don’t want it in the future. Can you do me a favour now? I need it quickly!

I hurriedly spoke, not letting Kiro have the chance to refuse me.

MC: Didn’t you get chased by a guard because you snaked into the mansion of Lord Jinsha?

MC: Then you can probably tell me, did you see a travelling artist like me in it?

Kiro looked at me with a slightly surprised expression.

Kiro: Travelling artist? Is there something wrong with them?

MC: They….

MC: It’s too hard to talk here. Come with me.

I looked around vigilantly, put on my veil, and beckoned to Kiro.

Passing through the alleys, the hustle and bustle gradually grew farther and farther.

I led Kiro through the city and finally stopped in front of a travelling artist’s caravan.

MC: This is my home.

MC: I am a dancer in a travelling theatre troupe. Some time ago, I passed by here from Wangcheng to make a living in the market.

MC: Half a month ago, our theatre troupe was summoned by Lord Jinsha for a dinner performance.

MC: The people at the market all advised us not to go, saying that many others were recruited by him before. They never showed up again.

MC: But we didn’t dare defy him. I was the only one that didn’t attend as I suddenly fell ill that day but the others went.

MC: After that day…. my companions disappeared.

Kiro: They didn’t come back?

MC: Well, the caravan and luggage are still here so it would’ve been impossible for them to leave.

MC: Kiro, do you think they will be sold as slaves as the rumours say?....

Kiro: Don’t be too scared. Actually, time moved really quickly just now and I only searched part of the mansion when I snuck in. 

Kiro: Maybe your companions are staying in other rooms and I just didn’t get to see them?

MC: Even so….

Kiro’s comfort only slightly soothed my anxiety. However, an even greater worry was still surging in my heart. I sighed.

MC: Alas….if there is any way to save them, it would be great.

Kiro: I have a solution, wanna try? 

Kiro: Actually, I was um…. a spy and took a job. So, I had to sneak into the mansion of Lord Jinsha to investigate.

Kiro: I was discovered by a guard at that moment which caused me to fail my mission. I'm thinking of how to get in again. 

Kiro: At this time, let’s cooperate and pretend to be a pair of travelling artists.

Kiro: I will be the singer and you will be the dancer! To tell you the truth, I can sing very well! 

Kiro looked excited, but, how could a spy be a good singer? I shook my head.

MC: It’s not that easy. I heard that Lord Jinsha’s ears are very particular and that it’s hard for ordinary singers to be liked by him….

My hesitation was interrupted by Kiro’s singing.

The moment the first note was sung by him, my eyes widened.

Kiro sang the simplest but cheerful melody. His voice was very low, his words very casual.

But such easy-going singing has surpassed all the singers I have ever heard.

It seems that he isn’t standing in front of a messy caravan but rather a lively banquet. And in that banquet, he is the focus.

The last lyrics left his mouth and Kiro winked at me and my stunned face.

Kiro: Would you like to cooperate with me now, little dancer? 

[Second Part]

My cooperation with Kiro is going extremely smoothly.

In just ten days, our travelling act had gained fame in the city.

Most of this fame was because of Kiro.

For some reason, no matter how simple the ballads that are sung by him seem to have colours, pictures, and smells.

Whenever he plunged into the world of music, he would inexplicably reveal a lonely and noble breath.

People wanted to get close but they didn’t dare to do so.

MC: Sometimes I think you really don’t look like a spy….

Kiro: Wait, what are you talking about?

MC: Nothing! I mean you sing so nicely. I wouldn’t be tired of hearing it even if I listened for a hundred years! 

Kiro: A hundred years? I think you could listen to it for a lifetime. 

His carefree words made my heart beat faster and my ears became a little hot for some reason. I quickly changed the subject.

MC: We’ve been practicing for a while today. Would you like to take a break and go to the street?

Kiro: Okay. Now that you mention it, I feel a little hungry.

We were going to the market to search for food. When we were passing by the long rows of houses, I suddenly heard sorrowful weeping from one of the houses.

Kiro: ….

Kiro stopped. Looking through the cracks in the dilapidated door curtain, there’s an old woman crying and holding her son.

But her son was unaware of his mother’s grief and his eyes stared up at the ceiling, saliva spilling from the corner of his mouth.

Seeing this scene, I shook my head unbearably.

MC: Another person infected by a strange disease….

MC: Last time we passed by the Royal City, we heard that there were lost souls there.

MC: Who knows when the cure will be found….

Kiro: This is not a natural disease. It’s man-made.

MC: Man-made? How do you know?

Kiro: Uh….

His eyes wandered for a while before he decided to finally answer me.

Kiro: Because….I am a subordinate of the “Silver Prince”. I am investigating this matter under his order.

MC: The silver-haired prince?!

MC: It’s the “spokesperson of the demon” whose voice is cursed in the legend and likes to manipulate others…. *Changed some wording here*

I trailed off the rest of the sentence because I saw Kiro’s face becoming a little pale.

MC: I’m sorry! I forgot that you are his subordinate and shouldn’t say that to him.

Kiro: It’s okay. Do people talk about him like this?

MC: Not really….

MC: Most of the people who say that are big landlords and wealthy merchants like Lord Jinsha and people who followed suit.

Kiro: What about you? What do you think of the silver-haired prince? 

MC: Me? I have no idea.

MC: After all, the noble existence of the prince is beyond my knowledge. Why do you ask?

Kiro: Oh….

MC: ….

Did I say something wrong again? Why do I feel that Kiro’s expression seems to be even more disappointed?

Should I just flatter his master?

Thinking of this, I quickly coughed and changed my tune.

MC: But, ah, I think the prince must not be as scary as the legend makes him out to be….

MC: He did send you to investigate the bad guys after all. He must be a very wise prince!

MC: As for the curse, the “spokesperson of the demon”, that must’ve been a rumour spread by others!

MC: I respect him with my heart!

Kiro looked at me and blinked, the corners of his mouth bent upwards uncontrollably.

Kiro: Pff….Hahahaha!

MC: Why are you laughing?

Kiro: Nothing, nothing. When I go back, I will convey your compliments to the prince! 

Kiro: When this matter is over, he will definitely reward you greatly. You can make any request.

MC: Really? Then I’ll have to think hard about what reward I want from the prince.

Seeing him happy made me happy. I turned the conversation back to the topic at hand. *Changed some wording*

MC: So, the last time you snuck into Lord Jinsha’s mansion, was it also to investigate this matter?

Kiro nodded.

Kiro: I found an incense with a strange composition in Wangcheng. This incense has a strong aroma and is highly addictive.

Kiro: Long-term exposure will cause people to lose their souls.

Kiro: I tracked it down all the way here and finally found the main supplier of the spice; the so-called “Master of Golden Sand”. 

Kiro: But he’s good at covering his tracks. If there is no concrete evidence that he sold it, then it’s difficult to convict him.

Kiro looked back at the small house as he said this, his face contemplative.

MC: Kiro, did you think of something?

Kiro: It’s just a theory that I have that has a few loose ends. It can only be verified after successfully sneaking in.

Kiro and I had a simple meal at the market. On the way back, we suddenly found a circle of people in front of the caravan.

It was Lord Jinsha’s guards.

Kiro and I quickly glanced at each other and then walked towards the caravan together.

Kiro: Is there anything wrong, sir?

Guard: You are the famous artist couple travelling the city recently?

The guard raised his jaw arrogantly.

Guard: Follow us.

(Cut to the mansion)

Dancer: MC, your solo dance is really good! Your footwork is especially light, just like stepping on a cloud!

MC: Haha, thanks for your compliment.

I absent-mindedly exchanged greetings with other travelling artists. However, the big rock in my heart never lightened up.

The evening before yesterday, the guards took us to the mansion of Lord Jinsha. They told us that he would be holding a banquet in two days and we would be the entertainers who will perform for the banquet.

Everything is going according to plan but Kiro and I both felt a little uneasy.

It felt as if we were prey on a cobweb and some kind of behemoth spider was hanging above us, its saliva dripping greedily.

And just two hours ago, Kiro was called away by Lord Jinsha’s guests, saying that he would be performing for their private banquet.

MC: It’s already afternoon, why hasn’t he come back?

Lord Jinsha’s guests must be some domineering bastards. What if they embarrass Kiro?

I was really uneasy. I finally gritted my teeth and slid out while the people by the entrance weren’t paying attention.

The Jinsha mansion is amazingly large with its luxurious gold ornaments and white jade luxuriant flowers. I hid under the shadow of the flowers, looking for the way to the guest house.

Fweet!

There was a sharp whistle from above which made me look upward.

I saw a hawk passing by a low altitude, drawing a sharp arc, and finally flying towards one of the small courtyards.

Is there anyone there?

I silently made my way to where the hawk landed.

As soon as I approached the courtyard, I heard two male voices talking in the pavilion.

??: Jinsha, the old fox, doesn’t answer our calls at all. He just pretends to be stupid whenever he mentions incense.

??: I guess that’s it.

One of the voices is low and strange. And the other….

It’s Kiro.

I carefully plucked the flowering branches and saw the familiar figure not far away. 

Kiro had his back to me while leaning leisurely on the soft pillow, playing with a string of jewels in his hands.

On the other side of the pavilion stood a wealthy, middle-aged man who looked at him respectfully.

The hawk was perched on his shoulder, making a gentle cooing sound in his throat.

In the afternoon, the bright light of the scorching sun made his hair gleam and outlined the muscles on his thin waist.

The kid’s expression is arrogant and cold, like a little singer “coerced” over to perform.

If it weren’t for him still wearing that coarse cloth, I would almost think he was the deity who mastered the sun.

The light is dazzling; it’s too bright to look at.

Kiro: He has already discovered that he’s been exposed in Wangcheng’s business network and certainly won’t dare to make a public appearance. 

Kiro: Tonight’s banquet, no matter what method you use, you must hold him back. If necessary, you’re allowed to make a little mess.  

Wealthy Man: Yes.

Listening to the conversation between the two, there was a buzzing in my head.

Kiro actually planned this banquet? Lord Jinsha’s guests are Kiro’s people?

Isn’t he just a spy? How could he make that wealthy middle-aged man act so respectfully to him?

Before I had time to think more, Kiro seemed to have noticed something and quickly turned his head!

Kiro: Who’s there?! 

[Third Part]

Those blue eyes sharply locked onto the flower bush where I was hiding. Knowing that I could no longer hide, I had to laugh out loud.

MC: It’s me.

Kiro: MC? Why are you here?

MC: I….You hadn’t come back after a while….I was worried….

Kiro was startled but the expression of the wealthy man beside him changed.

Wealthy Man: How dare you eavesdrop!-

Kiro: It’s okay, she’s with me.

Kiro interrupted him.

He shook his arm and the hawk flew away from his elbow.

Kiro stood up from the cushion. When he was about to say something, his eyes passed behind me and his pupils shrank.

I didn’t know why he looked like this. When I looked back, I was shocked.

A large number of guards were coming toward us aggressively!

Wouldn’t we be exposed?! 

Kiro: Follow me! 

Kiro made a decision and stretched out his hand towards me.

I didn’t dare to hesitate. I quickly ran to the other side of the pavilion with him.

Even though Kiro had figured out the layout of the mansion, the sounds of footsteps blocked our escape routes.

Seeing that there was a guard who could find us at just another turn, we couldn’t hide and had to rush into a room next to us.

Unexpectedly, the room was actually a small vault belonging to Lord Jinsha. There was a lot of gold and silver piled up but almost no place to hide.

If you were to take a torch inside, you would easily be able to see our shadows inside!

Kiro: Here, there’s a treasure chest!

Without hesitation, he pushed me into the treasure chest and jumped in after me. 

The small treasure chest held the two of us in such a confined space that we had no other choice but to stay close together.

Kiro held the heavy top of the treasure chest with one hand, the slightly rapid breath escaping from his lips fanned onto the tip of my nose. It felt as though it was burning.

The swaying firelight gradually approached and stopped outside the room.

Guard: Where did they go?

Guard: You must kill him immediately after finding him!

The word “kill” made me tremble. Kiro sensed my fear and lightly pressed his large hand on my shoulder.

Kiro: It’s okay. 

Just outside the door were the guards walking with the jewels under him. This was a life-or-death situation.

His embrace is so warm; it makes it feel easy to rely on him.

Guard: Over there!-

The yell outside of the door distracted the guard.

The chaotic footsteps gradually disappeared and the two of us let out a sigh of relief. We couldn’t help but look at each other.

With just a glance, my heart skipped a beat and my face flushed uncontrollably. 

So close…. 

It was close enough that I could see the thin layer of sweat on Kiro’s forehead, the worry in his blue eyes, and the suspicious blush creeping up onto the tips of his ears.

MC: I….

Kiro: I….

Kiro and I spoke in unison and closed our mouths unanimously.

Kiro turned his gaze to the side and whispered.

Kiro: They’re gone. Let’s get out of here first.

MC: Ah, okay.

We gently pull ourselves out of the treasure chest and tidy up each other’s messy clothes.

After the crisis, what came to my mind again was self-blame.

On the eve of the banquet, the mansion was in absolute mayhem. Kiro’s plan for next week would definitely be greatly affected.

MC: Sorry, it’s all my fault….

Kiro: You don’t have to blame yourself. They aren’t looking for you.

MC: Huh?

Kiro: I just listened to what that yell was about. “Incense Person”.

MC: Incense person? You mean….

The lost soul incense secretly sold by Lord Jinsha and the travelling artists who were missing….

All sorts of clues flashed through my mind. I blurted out amidst my thoughts.

MC: That’s why he has to recruit so many travelling artists!

MC: Because travelling artists have no designated homes, no one cares if they disappear as they think they just moved on to the next city.

MC: Have my companions also….

Ominous sensations rose from my heart, my hands and feet turned cold.

At this moment, my fingers suddenly stiffened. Kiro shook my hand firmly.

Kiro: Don’t think too much about it. 

Kiro: Let’s change our thinking. Since some people who tried the spice were able to escape its effects, it means that they must have been hiding somewhere from Lord Jinsha.

Kiro: We just need to find them and rescue them.

The warmth from his palm calmed my anxiety.

I grinned reluctantly at him and nodded.

Kiro: The banquet is going to start in a bit and the guards should be going to the front area. Let’s take the opportunity to go back.

MC: Okay.

I followed him for two steps out the door before I suddenly felt that something was wrong.

I lowered my head and looked at the floor tiles under my bare feet.

Although these tiles are exactly the same, the sensitivity of my dancer’s feet made me discover an anomaly.

MC: Kiro, the feel of this tile seems to be different from the others.

Kiro: How is it different?

MC: It’s almost like I’m stepping on a cloud….

Kiro’s eyebrows adjusted slightly. He walked to the floor tiles, knelt down, and fumbled with it for a while. He then knocked on the tile. 

Kiro: There’s nothing under this tile.

MC: It’s empty?

MC: Could it be that he hid the “Incense Person” underground?

Kiro: It’s very possible. Let’s go down and take a look. 

MC: But the banquet is about to begin. What if the guards find out that we are here investigating?

Kiro: But if we find evidence of Lord Jinsha doing terrible things on the down-low, then we won’t have to attend the party.

MC: What you said makes sense!

MC: And he doesn’t deserve to hear your beautiful singing!

Kiro raised his eyebrows when he heard what I said, his eyes bright.

Kiro: Yes. This time, his crime must be completely exposed! 

[Fourth Part]

The tile opened downwards, revealing a ruined black passage; it stared at us like an abyss.

Kiro walked in front, holding on to me with one hand and the wall with the other, carefully exploring onward.

After stepping onto the last step around the corner, a light suddenly appeared in front of him.

Kiro: Follow me.

Walking out of the passage, what is presented before us is the underground treasure room of Lord Jinsha!

Boxes of gold and silver, gorgeous jewelry, expensive cloth….

Treasures even rarer than the ones above us are collected in this dark secret room.

It exuded a sparkling light under the flaming glow of the torches.

Kiro probed around and followed the flames. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

Kiro: There is a secret door here! 

We rushed to the secret stone door. Upon pushing the door open a crack, a scent of moly and a weird spice came flooding out from it. 

Everyone was wearing the costumes they used for their performance but their eyes were glazed over; like a group of dolls at the mercy of others.

Like the lost souls I saw in the slums.

MC: You were right! Everyone is here!

In the depths of the crowds, I suddenly saw my companion!

She seemed to still have some form of consciousness. After hearing what I said, she turned slightly in my direction, showing me a desperate smile.

MC: Ah, come on, Kiro! We have to rescue them!

Kiro: I know. Go and call out for help-

Lord Jinsha: Who do you want to call out for, little mouse?

A voice rang out from behind us; with black malice like a serpent’s message.

Kiro and I turned around suddenly. Lord Jinsha led a large number of guards into the secret room.

He sneered and looked at us; as if he were looking at two dying bugs.

I saw his fat and ugly face. I felt my anger instantly rush to the top of my head.

MC: Why are you doing this to them?!

Lord Jinsha: Why?

Lord Jinsha: As I see it, these travelling artists are the dregs of society and have no value at all.

Lord Jinsha: They should be honoured to try the incense for me.

MC: You-!

Kiro: How could these travelling artists be worthless? 

Kiro: They have travelled to many different places, danced and sang, and spread the joy of life to many others.

Kiro: They are truly priceless “golden sands” and treasures in this country.

Kiro: The only one with no value here is you.

Kiro held back some anger in that retort.

Lord Jinsha’s squinted eyes immediately turned to Kiro.

Lord Jinsha: Eh, are you the little mouse that sneaked in some time ago?

Kiro: ….

Lord Jinsha: Mouse, do you think that I don’t know who you are? You are as crazy and ridiculous as your master.

Lord Jinsha: A prince, who’s been locked in a palace all his life, wants to bring me down? You wish!

He waved his hand and the guards behind him lunged at us!

A cold light flashed in an instant, Kiro’s eyes were dazzling. He took me in his arms and spit out two words.

Kiro: Weapons down! *Changed some wording here*

When he finished speaking, the guards in front of him suddenly trembled as if someone had pitched their wrists. Their fingers released the hilts of the scimitars they were holding.

When the scimitars fell to the ground, Kiro kicked a few people out of the way and led me to the door.

Lord Jinsha opened his mouth in disbelief.

Lord Jinsha: Who are you?! Impossible! Don’t you dare try to escape!

The man stepped back suddenly and pulled down a mechanism on the wall!

In an instant, a hole in the wall appeared, and a row of arrows shot straight at us!

MC: Watch out!

My instinct was to push Kiro out of the way. In the next instant, the sharp pain of an arrow in my back hit me.

I gritted my teeth and called to Kiro with the last bit of breath in me.

MC: Kiro, get out quickly! Tell everyone this! Tell the silver-haired prince!

Kiro: The prince already knew. 

My eyes widened. Before I realized what he meant, I fell to the ground.

Darkness and warmth surrounded me together.

??: Wake up, MC….Wake up….

A faint voice rang in my ear, urging me to open my eyes.

MC: Huh?....

I slowly opened up my eyes. There was a bright moon above my head.

MC: I’m here….

I looked around and found that I was still in the courtyard of Lord Jinsha, surrounded by countless royal guards escorting the other guards in an orderly manner.

The wound on my back seemed to have been cleaned and bandaged. It didn’t hurt so much now.

MC:  What’s going on here?

Companion: Don’t you know?! The silver-haired prince is here!

Companion: He wiped out all the bad guys and rescued us all!

MC: What about Kiro?

Companion: Who is Kiro?

There was no need for her to answer; I have already seen him.

The golden-haired Kiro stood in the crowd surrounded by guards and attendants, and those who called him a prince.

Kiro seemed to sense my gaze. He turned his head and looked at me. He subconsciously took a couple of steps towards me before suddenly stopping again.

Kiro: I…. 

MC: You lied to me.

MC: Did you not trust me? We are partners yet you actually want to keep your true identity hidden….

Kiro: I don’t distrust you.

MC: What’s that?

Kiro: Ever since I was born, people have said that my voice is cursed by the demon and cannot be listened to.

Kiro: Although the royal family explained that it wasn’t a curse, everyone was still afraid of me.

Kiro: So, I can only pretend to be a shameless “silver-haired prince”. 

He stared at me quietly, his every word sincere.

Kiro: You’re the only one who likes to talk to me and hear me sing.

Kiro: So I want to talk to you all the time and sing to you as Kiro.

He paused and said it again.

Kiro: Sorry, MC.

Maybe there was some kind of magic in his voice but, just listening like this, my heart swelled and thumped wildly because of his words.

But how can I forgive this “liar” so easily?!

MC: I remember that you promised me that the prince will reward me greatly after the matter is over, right?

Kiro: I remember. 

MC: I’ll think of a reward now and the punishment for you lying to me, which I’ll only tell you, also.

I stretched my hand out in front of him.

MC: Your Royal Highness, please come and honour it!

Kiro’s expression stiffened as if waiting for some kind of cruel prank, and walked towards me with a guilty conscience.

The moment he leaned over, I hooked my arms around his neck.

MC: The punishment is that His Royal Highness must do whatever I say. 

MC: Just say….

My lips pressed against his cheek.

MC: “I want to talk to MC for a hundred years and sing songs for her for a hundred years.” 

Wind and sand rolled over the hills and the travelling artist’s caravan set off again.

They sang travelling ballads, letting the story of the silver-haired prince spread across the mainland.

Legend has it that on a bright and sunny day, the prince’s always-closed palace doors suddenly opened up and welcomed everyone. 

There is no demon nor a curse; only laughter and good wine.

The beautiful and timeless singing of the prince will always be heard in the palace, making the people happy.

And wherever the singing sounds, there will be a girl to accompany him.

[End]

You can read the call that comes after this date here!~

[salemorbit]

Midnight Mishaps

[Todoroki x genderneutral!Reader]

warnings: mentions of being hurt and wounds and stuff, but otherwise none!

~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~

You breathed in time with your punches, letting out all your frustrations into the punching bag in front of you. Sweat rolled down your forehead and into your eyes, but you were too focused to wipe it away.

The past week had been incredibly stressful for you in terms of schoolwork and hero training. You were exhausted half the time, and the other half consisted of projects or papers taking up your attention. You desperately needed some me-time, but your schedule simply did not allow it.

Which was mainly why it was nearly 3 in the morning and you were chugging away at the equipment in the weight room of the UA dorms. It was the only time when the weight room was empty, and the only time you didn't have something trying to chip away at your life force.

Letting out a yell, you threw a heavy punch at the bag, sending it swinging back generously. You held out your hands to steady the bag's movement, catching your breath and finally wiping at your forehead.

You headed over toward the bench and your workout bag, thirsty for the water you packed away. What you failed to notice, however, was the stray dumbbell that rolled closer than you remembered.

Taking a few steps, your foot suddenly caught on the handle of the dumbbell, sending you falling to the floor with a yelp. You tried to put out your hand to stop yourself using the edge of the bench, but you miscalculated the corner and cut your hand on the metal.

You pulled your hand to your chest with a hiss, tears welling up at the pain of both your bruised ankle and your wounded hand. You assessed the damage of your palm and its cut, wincing at the depth of the injury.

"Damn," you sighed, thinking of how late in the night it was. Recovery Girl was long past asleep, and you knew if you tried to wake her up now it would lead to your death rather than your healing. And your own knowledge of first aid was dangerously lacking, not even owning a bandaid to try to put on your hand.

Getting up and nursing your hand, you were forced to call it a night. The next task was figuring out how you were going to wrap up your hand without getting it infected and keeping it available for use.

You racked your brain for people who might be up at this hour. Midoriya? No, he would've gone to sleep an hour ago. Ururaka? She would faint at the sight of blood, probably. Bakugou? His bedtime was eight o'clock and he'd definitely murder you for waking him up for this.

Heading for the dorm common room, you figured you'd have to make do with your own knowledge and the paper towels in the common room's kitchen. Aizawa would be disappointed in your carelessness, using this situation to turn it into a "learning opportunity," and you really weren't in the mood for a lecture.

You threw your bag on the kitchen island and rustled around in the drawers, trying to make as little noise as possible. You muttered to yourself incessantly as you couldn't find the paper towels or tape of any kind.

On the other side of the wall, Todoroki's room sat. He was usually a heavy sleeper, but this particular night proved unsuccessful for him falling asleep easily. Every little noise seemed to wake him up.

And your kitchen rustling was no exception. Todoroki checked the time on his clock, taking note of the noise. Three in the morning? Todoroki furrowed his eyebrows and got up and out of bed, slipping on some sandals and making his way quietly toward the kitchen.

He rounded the corner with utmost stealth, peering around the corner and seeing someone moving in the shadows. His senses went on high alert as he started to heat up the left side of his body, warning flames dancing on his fingertips. If this was an intruder, they were definitely going to get flayed alive.

You finally found a roll of paper towels, looking at it triumphantly and turning. Suddenly, your eyes caught on a light source coming from the corner of the kitchen, and you dropped the towels in surprise.

"Who's there?" Todoroki called out, you immediately recognizing his voice. You sighed in relief, picking up the fallen paper towels and setting them on the counter.

"Todoroki, it's me," you whisper-yelled back, "[Y/N]."

"[Y/N]?" He asked, the flames dying out on his fingers. Todoroki fully came around the corner with a confused look on his face. You smiled weakly at him, trying to hide your hurt hand.

"You're up late," you commented as Todoroki flipped on the kitchen light switch. You cringed at the sudden light, pulling your injured hand further behind you.

"Couldn't sleep," he said simply. He looked at you curiously, noticing your defensive body language and the way you favored your right hand. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, I'm just peachy," you forced a smile, backing up into a counter. Your hand hit the edge awkwardly, sending a shooting pain up your wrist. You couldn't help but suck in a breath at the sudden feeling, whipping your hand back in front of you and cradling it.

"You're not," Todoroki noticed. He took a few steps closer toward you. "Can I see?"

You hesitantly gave him your injured hand, letting him turn it over in his own. His eyes widened at the deep gash in your palm, looking up at you.

"It's not bad," you tried to reason. Todoroki rolled his eyes and tugged your hand toward the sink, turning on the warm water.

"It's pretty bad," he scolded. "This might sting."

His warning was feeble compared to the electricity you felt sear through your palm as the water made contact with the wound. You didn't want to wake anyone else up, so you had to settle for silently screaming at the pain and allowing tears to well up in your eyes.

"Dude, that hurts so bad, what the hell," you stressed. Todoroki shut the water off and knelt down to a cabinet under the sink, pulling out a first aid kit.

"It'll only hurt worse if you don't take proper care of it," he said, opening up the kit on the island. "What happened?"

"I tripped in the weight room and I guess the bench was sharper than I thought," you admitted sheepishly. "It was stupid, I know."

"It wasn't stupid," he glanced at you, twisting off the cap of the antibacterial ointment. "What was stupid was trying to cover up an injury like this without getting help."

"It's just a cut," you shrugged.

"It could've gotten infected, and it won't heal properly without correct care," Todoroki reprimanded. You were taken aback by his insistence on the situation. It made you go quiet as he applied the ointment gently and then wrapped up the wound with medical gauze.

His hands were gentle and experienced, turning your hand over with utmost care so as to keep the wound from getting worse. Todoroki set your hand on the cool counter and he finished, tying the two ends of the gauze tightly on the back of your hand. You marveled at his fluidity and ability to improvise in the moment, taking care of you even though you hadn't made the best decision.

"You're pretty good at this," you said, watching him work. Todoroki shrugged, finishing up with the bandage and packing away the kit.

"Experience," was all he said. You knew what he meant, not wanting to overstep in the conversation. You flexed your hand and rubbed at the sore spot, testing it out.

"Thank you," you said as Todoroki stood upright again. "You didn't have to do this."

"If I didn't, who would've?" He smirked, leaning on the counter. "Recovery Girl would've let you bleed out if you woke her up like this."

You let out a soft laugh, smiling. "That's exactly what would've happened, actually. For a caregiver, she really doesn't care all too much."

"She has her moments," Todoroki shrugged again, the ghost of a smile on his face. It was quiet for a bit before you figured you should turn in for the night.

"I'm gonna go to bed," you said, grabbing your bag off the counter. "The week isn't over yet, and we have plenty of lectures in the morning."

You noticed that Todoroki hadn't made a move to leave where he was standing. You frowned turning to face him fully.

"You should get some rest, too," you prodded. Todoroki looked up at you like he was just jarred out of the most interesting thought he'd ever had.

"Huh? Oh, yes, maybe I should," he pushed away from the counter and headed your way toward the dorm hallway.

You walked together until you got to the division between the sides of the dorm. Todoroki had his room on the first floor, but you were one above. You were just about to turn to the elevator when Todoroki stopped you.

"If you ever get hurt again-" He started, you stopping and turning around, "I mean, if you ever need help again, just let me know. I'll be there."

You saw his nervous fidgets in the dim light, your lips curling into a smile. You looked at your feet and then back up at him fondly.

"I will, Todoroki, thank you."

~~~~~~~

i do love this man wholeheartedly omg omg

requests are welcome :)

[damn-stark]

Trio~ Ellie & Dina Imagine

Ellie x Fem!reader x Dina

Requested by

A/N- I love this :) anyway I combined them cause they matched up, hope you guys don’t mind!

Warning- fluff!!

———-

What’s the official definition of liking two people at the same time, with equal amounts of passion?

Uhh..probably in everyone else’s mind, weird for one. For you, inside the depths of your confused mind and tangled heart...weird. Not in the sense that liking...loving two people at the same time is weird. It’s just weird in the sense that all the feelings just collided with one another, creating this big twister of confusion and frustration. Not only because it was two people, but because those two people. Dina and Ellie to be exact were also your best friends.

The messed universe was just playing a cruel, cruel joke on you. It’s not like it could be nice and treat you normal and just make you like one person, no, it wanted you to suffer. Suffer already in a damaged, infected filled world. Cruel.

Nonetheless here you were, in Jackson, trying to drown out your mind in the least damaging and best way you could find. Just simply listening to music. Watching people dance and watching Ellie walk in.

Wait.

Oh.

Ellie.

You clear your throat and turn your back to face her, taking in a huge gulp of your drink before setting the cup down. Suddenly feeling beads of sweat form on your forehead on how nervous you got. Did she notice?

“Y/N.”

Quickly you swallow the rest of your drink, the lump feeling rough against your throat at how fast the liquid travels down. “Ellie.” You greet, pretending to be surprised that she was behind you, even if you had seen her and heard her coming your way.

Nice way to act nonchalant.

Not.

You turn around and show her a smile, “hey...Ellie.”

Smooth.

“What are doing here all alone?” Ellie questioned as she swiped a drink from the bar.

You shrug and grab your empty cup, “just enjoying the night.”

A sudden cute and familiar laugh enters the room, your attention getting stolen by the girl your heart was also gushing about, the sight of her perfect sweet smile making you grin to yourself, but being sure not to stay out of focus with Ellie in front of you.

“I just wanted to say,” Ellie continued, scratching the back of her before looking back at her girlfriend Dina.

Was that forgotten to say? That Ellie and Dina were not only your best friends, or your crushes, but they were also dating. That’s like the cherry on top of the perfectly good sundae that you would see on salvageable food magazines; “actually ask, I guess,” Ellie paused, your eyes flickering to Dina who was slowly making her way over, stopping to chat with every person that stopped her; “you know what, I think it’s better to go outside.”

You nod and leave your empty cup on the table before leaving to follow after her, Dina quickly notices and follows after the both of you, her arm wrapping around your shoulder once she reaches your side.

“Hi, y/n.” She greets happily, a trait you admire.

You grin, trying to calm the heat that crept onto your cheeks. “Hey, Dina.” You look down at her growing stomach and can’t help but let out a giggle, “how’s the little guy?”

Ellie laughs as she pushes the door open, a cold breeze instantly hitting your face at the action.

“The little girl,” Dina corrects, “is fine.”

You shake your head and hold her hand that was wrapped around your shoulders, “it’s a boy, I’m telling you.”

“And when it turns out to be a little girl and proves you wrong, I will demand some sort of apology. I’ll think about it, but until the baby can prove you wrong, just be prepared.”

“Ahh, okay, you got it.”

Ellie falls by your other side and wraps her own around you, the gestures and feeling of being in both girls embrace making your heart swell. Truly if life could be just these moments, there will be no need to complain. But alas life was full of ugly infected and other humans that acted as wild as the monsters that roamed the streets.

“So, what was it you wanted to talk about, Ellie?”

Said girl, slightly turns to Dina, both sharing a look before her green eyes turned to you and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Oh, let’s wait until we get to my house.”

You offer a short nod, before walking in silence, the nerves you were now feeling, upsetting your stomach and making all shaky, letting your mind come up with theories.

Does Ellie know the crush you have on her girlfriend? Or does Dina know you have a crush on Ellie? Or, or had they both caught to how weird your heart was and knew you liked them both?

Hell. Could this anticipation be over? Walking felt like walking on hot coals, that was never going to come to stop since the pace you all were walking was incredibly slow. Was this how teenage girls felt before when in proximity of the people they liked?

“So…” Ellie rolled out before throwing herself on the snow covered backyard that was outside her little home, and behind the home Joel Miller once used to live at. “About this thing I wanted to ask...or Dina and I wanted to ask.”

You swallow thickly and help Dina, sit by you on the snow, all of you unbothered by the wet feeling the snow is going to leave.

“I’ve noticed or—”

“I’ll say it.” Dina cut off Ellie, the girl shooting Dina a grateful smile.

“First” You bravely interject, feeling incredibly hot even if the weather outside was freezing, “I want to share that,” you hesitate, fear pulling down your confidence that you had managed to build on your walk here. The figures of the two girl’s you liked made your heart pound in your chest. The same fear wrapping you in a dangerous and stupid bubble of self doubt and insecurity, holding you back from finally confessing feelings that have been wanting to tear away and reveal themselves.

Did you really want to ruin this perfect friendship with your two best friends? What if neither of them liked you, even if the signs were there. The lingering stares and touches, the all nighter conversations you would have. Special and small moments stolen that made them even that more special to you.

What if they didn’t feel them the same way and you were just some weirdo? What if...No! No more hiding.

“I” you begin to stammer, feeling your cheeks burn hotter, “I like you guys, I have for a while,” both girls part their lips and just share a look with one another and let you finish. “Not in the friendship type of way, but in something more than that, I..I love you guys. Not only one, but both. And I know that may sound weird, or stupid but I do and I can’t help contain it anymore, I had to confess before my heart exploded or before.”

“Y/N.” Dina grinned, her hand grabbing yours with an assuring grip, “we love you too. We actually wanted to talk to you about that right now before you interrupted.”

Your eyes widen and you express a soft “oh” looking between Ellie and Dina, before a happy grin spread on your features. “Well I feel relieved now,” you reveal, letting your head rest on Dina’s lap.

“We’ve known for a while,” Ellie confesses with a playful smirk, “you’re not too good and hiding it.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, “well I’m sorry, it’s just hard telling the girls you like how you feel.”

Dina chuckles and caresses your cheek, her other hand cradling Ellie’s cheek as she moved to rest her head on her lap as well. “It doesn't matter, we all know now and I think it’s time we do something about it.”

“Like?” You press with a raised eyebrow.

“Go on a date.” Ellie finishes for her.

“Ok,” you smile warmly, “what will it be? Movies and some warm food? Or a picnic outside of these walls? What does baby J want to do?”

Dina shakes her head, “she likes the idea of a movie. A Christmas movie.”

You chuckle, “sounds nice. I knew he would like that.”

Ellie copies your laugh and Dina responds by standing up and letting you both drop to the snow covered ground. “You guys are not funny.” She turns around and begins to stomp away, Ellie and you both quickly jumping to your feet and following after her. A happy grin on your face that was impossible to wipe off, not only because you were enjoying your time with your girls, but it had finally been time to reveal your feelings, it felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders and you could float into a happy abyss.

Finally after months of hiding, you could act yourself. Finally.

You call out after her. “How much do you want to bet, it's going to be a baby boy?!”

Dina shakes her head and keeps marching away, “not funny. I’ll bet nothing.”

“Just so you know, Ellie and I are going to win this bet.” You smile, “mark my words.”

[silenthillmutual]

[ID: Anonymous said: this isnt like, a demand or request, just an expression of interest - you mentioned in your daniil-is-autistic post that you also think artemy is neurodivergent, and i would really enjoy seeing a similar post on that topic. thank you, have a nice day.]

(anon is referring to this post!)

i do have some thoughts that i would like to share about that topic! however comma, it probably will not be as in-depth as my post about daniil, as i am myself autistic and have had a couple years since being diagnosed to ruminate on places where that has affected my life, and so it’s easier to write about coming from a place of personal experience. i can do the same with depression, for the same reason.

i have a couple of ideas about what artemy could have:

adhd

ptsd

ocd

i won’t really be going into ptsd or ocd on this post because i feel like it’s more difficult to point the ptsd out (artemy doesn’t talk much about or flashback at all to being on the front) and because i think ocd should have its own post. it is severely misunderstood, even by other neurodivergent people. plus i think all four of the healers have it (or aspects of it), and this post is about artemy.

i feel like… something about the dsmv diagnostic criteria for adhd feels condescending to me, like it feels the way it’s worded places a lot of the blame on the person who has it? and some of the criteria like “fails to follow through on instructions”, “does not seem to listen when spoken to directly”, “has trouble holding attention on tasks” can depend greatly on the player. not as much of that is baked into artemy’s character and dialogue in the same way that social ineptitude, which is a core feature of autism, is baked into daniil’s character and dialogue.

with that being said: while i will include a few things from the diagnostic dsmv diagnositic criteria as listed on the cdc website, i am going to primarily be thinking about accounts from people with adhd. i have several friends with adhd (and i suspect that i may have it, though i’ve only come to suspect this recently and have had less time to think on it) whose experiences i will be taking into account.

other links to sources i am referring to: [adhd/autism venn diagram by tfw-adhd]  [what those symptoms look like in adults, by chadd]  [ptsd criteria on brainline]  [ocd criteria on beyondocd]

vague spoilers for pathologic classic & pathologic 2

very briefly & quickly: ptsd & ocd

the problem with going into it is this game is already a very difficult and anxiety-inducing world because of the plague and i’d argue that any of the healers could have one or both of these either before the outbreak or after it, so here are some things that stick out to me for

ptsd - overly negative thoughts or assumptions about oneself or the world (can overlap with adhd; artemy has the option to repeatedly blame himself for his father’s death), negative affect, feeling isolated, irritability or aggression, risky or destructive behavior, hypervigilance (any game that dabbles in horror aspects will expect this from you), difficulty sleeping (overlaps with adhd), depersonalization (this is a core aspect of the theatre theme of the game)

ocd - without going through the entire ybocs, i’ll just say that i think all three healers struggle with hoarding (understandably and by necessity) and hypermorality (all three protagonists believe they are the one and only person who is right, rubin is awfully judgmental of people who don’t abide by his personal standards). compulsions would be easier to point out in the game than the obsessions they are linked to, as we’re not exactly privvy to intrusive thoughts outside of the dreams. you could, however, say that artemy struggles with intrusive thoughts of causing harm even inadvertantly and argue that he takes measures to ensure that he doesn’t, won’t, and hasn’t. in classic, this is highly dependent on playstyle.

[this is my standard disclaimer that i have an official diagnosis of ptsd so i’m not just pulling this out of nowhere and am about 98% sure i have obsessive-compulsive disorder, and have researched it thoroughly.]

what’s built into the game: making careless mistakes, poor planning skills, time blindness / anxiety, executive dysfunction

pathologic is a game that sometimes feels like you’re being set up for failure. something that i missed talking about in my previous post is that it often feels like an autism/adhd simulator because it is, in classic, so very easy to screw yourself over and get locked out of an objective by picking the wrong dialogue option. while some of the correct dialogue options are obvious, others feel like a guessing game and you have to just hope you’re picking the right thing and have made a save file at the right place to go back and pick different options in the case that you’ve bungled something. hence, “making careless mistakes”. it’s a little bit easier in 2, as dialogue options that end a conversation are indicated with a diamond (thank you to whomever decided on that!), but it makes up for this by being unforgiving in other aspects. i believe the difficulty settings for imago state that the game is intended to be “almost unbearable” - and lots of people have difficulty completing it on the intended difficulty without cheats. (do not discourse about this on my post.) the game invites you to make careless mistakes and either live with or learn from them.

keeping this in mind, you’re kind of expected to have “poor planning skills” on at least your first time playing it. part of the game’s point is that you can’t do everything, and you can’t save everyone. not paying close enough attention or interpreting the instructions of the game just right in classic can cost you the lives of several of your bound.

that also feeds into time blindness & time anxiety. classic & 2 do these in different ways. in classic, you can’t run, so you have to hope you’re not busy doing something else or else hope that all of your letters come in at a time where you can hit up all the places you need to go, or you’re going to be cutting it short on time for the day. in 2, you can run, but there are far more sidequests to be completed than in classic.

i’d also argue that executive dysfunction is a core aspect of the game. you are very busy and very poor and items are very expensive, meaning that unless you know what you’re in for, either you or the town is low on resources or funds or time to do things like eat, sleep, and take care of your aches, immunity, and infection. all of which can be avoided if you don’t make careless mistakes, have good planning skills, and can manage your time wisely.

“interrupts or intrudes on others”

i don’t appear to have a screenshot of him doing this in 2, but he and daniil do have at least one conversation in which they keep interrupting each other. peak autism/adhd solidarity.

i do, however, have a screenshot example of him doing this to clara in pathologic classic

Haruspex: …Wait a second. If there was nothing but the great Bull, where did the stars and light come from? Changeling: Oh, don’t interrupt!

and as for intruding - khan feels that he does this frequently: intruding on him and capella at the station, intruding on him and notkin at the broken heart, and here he is intruding on kids at the nutshell:

We have so few places of our own - only a couple. And yet you feel the urge to impose yourself even here. Do you know what childhood is? It’s slavery. Herders treat their cattle better than parents treat their children. They lock us up like objects, mold us like statues, and still never take us remotely seriously.

he also intrudes on clara talking with block on day 11, either completely oblivious to the fact that he’s doing it or outright ignoring that he is.

“is often ‘on the go’“

i could say that this is one that is built into the way the game is organized, and it’s true! but his time spent with lara comes to mind. she’s not the only one to mention his restlessness, but i don’t keep screenshots of big vlad on hand so their day 1 dialogue is lost to the wind.

Aren’t you supposed to be terribly busy? I don’t understand why you keep coming. Or do you need my help again? I’ll wash your clothes. You’re filthy, like a chimney sweep. Revolting. While they dry, have some sleep.

“often fidgets […] or squirms in seat”

like with daniil’s body language, i don’t have any gifs to show to prove this. i’m really looking forward to seeing what idle animations he gets in the other two routes. for now i know that in the lucid dream, if you use flycam you can see him idling by swaying and rubbing his chin & that in other pantomimes he can be found constantly turning his head and looking around.

sleep problems

i don’t have the screen shot so just pretend that i do - he mentions this to the fellow traveler on, i think, day one when you go to the dead item shop. in either game, you can also only sleep for a maximum of six hours at a time, which is like..two hours less than the recommended amount, unless that’s changed.

little sense of danger & impulsivity

As usual, I act first and think later. I’ve made a panacea. But from what? What blood was that? Whose blood was that? To cure the Town, I’ll need to figure that out.

there’s actually no dialogue i can think of that addresses the danger of the situation he’s in - which is sort of the reason why i included it! though i am absolutely obsessed with classic artemy threatening grief, kingpin of the villains in town:

Bad Grief: That ain’t good! Got too soft a heart or something? Soft, eh… Well, can’t blame you. Haruspex: Got too hard of a bone structure? You watch it. I’ll break them in no time.

artemy has little to no problem offering to help daniil get ahold of organs and blood:

Bachelor: Exactly. I need tissues of a person who died of the Sand Plague. I need them today, right now! I’ve tried to get them at the cemetary, but failed miserably. The patrolmen are vigilantly watching over the dead. Haruspex: Would you like me to get you some? Bachelor: I’d reward you generously for that. Haruspex: Deal. I’ll do what I can, even though I still don’t have the right to.

‘even though i still don’t have the right to’ - he knows it’s illegal and could easily lose him reputation, but he jumps at the chance to do so. part of his route requires you being in constant danger, but later on there are options to tell daniil you won’t help him. this isn’t one of them.

in pathologic 2, you can also instigate fights with people by, to name a few: refusing to leave the house in the atrium where they have a person bound and gagged upstairs, not leaving barley the barber in grief’s lair, and picking the wrong dialogue option with the guys in the broken heart on day 11.

as referenced above, his impulsivity sometimes shows in the dialogue options you can choose. you can say things that clearly haven’t been thought through all the way. for example, this is what he says to clara bout her parents:

I wonder what you did to your old ones. There was someone gullible enough to adopt you?

and this is how she replies:

Clara: What? Why would you say that? I never even knew them. I’ve been an orphan for as long as I can remember. Artemy: I didn’t know. Right, that’s what I figured.

it’s not all that different from the sort of tactless comment a person with autism might make.

no motivation for tasks you are not interested in & hyperfixations

in pathologic 2, on day 3, daniil asks artemy to be his aide in developing a vaccine. artemy’s responses are all something dismissive and frequently quite rude. here’s the end of that conversation:

Bachelor: I will make the vaccine, but I can’t do it without you. All you need to do is be at hand and do as I say. I will take full responsibility for the situation. Haruspex: Perhaps I’ll drop by… if I have the time.

guess what never happens?

it’s understandable that the panacea is artemy’s main goal. what makes it stick out to me as a hyperfixation specifically is that, while a vaccine is daniil’s main goal, daniil manages to ask artemy about his progress with the panacea.

Bachelor: Anyway, how’s it going? Any progress?

the interest is never reciprocated.

emotional dysregulation & rejection sensitivity dysphoria

i personally think this is the most striking piece of evidence. every single perceived sleight can invoke a drastic reaction in artemy. just take day 3 for example - the perceived sleight here is the belief (based on no evidence) that daniil was snubbing him or trying to exclude him from the meeting:

Bachelor: Burakh. The situation is regretful. I just didn’t have time to warn you. Haruspex: This was ugly of you.

and then he proceeds to get into an argument with him. he can, in fact, get into snits with not just daniil, but with rubin and lara as well. i will not be taking sides in this, because who is right / who is wrong is not really the point, the point is how artemy responds to perceived sleights with increased emotional agitation.

when capella upsets him by telling him she’s taking the kids from under his care for their own protection, he can respond by comparing her to her horrible capitalist pig of a father:

You truly are your father’s daughter. Children always succeed their parents…

i can’t even remember what was said to him to get him to reply this, only that it was said to him by a teenager:

I’m a surgeon. Ever considered having your tongue removed?

he also holds onto murky’s repetitious “what is there about you to love? nothing. so i don’t.” and brings it up to her when she is infected with the sand plague on day 10. though it does bring the rather heartwarming line about murky having loved him from the start, my point remains that he has not been able to stop thinking about something murky has said that she has obviously already changed her mind about by this point in time in the game.

difficulties making & keeping friends

remember what i said about the interest in daniil’s vaccine not being reciprocated? yeah. friends, acquaintances, colleagues - they all kind of expect you to take an interest in their lives. this is where autism & adhd overlap, from my understanding - both can come with an inability to recognize social cues. in fact, i’m going to use the same example now that i used in my post about daniil (it is, after all, what inspired this ask):

Bachelor: From you? Oh, nothing. I was just sharing.

daniil thinks they’ve been having a normal conversation, but artemy hasn’t picked up on whatever social cues he’s been using. this could easily be on either one of them. though i will say, some of my easiest friendships as a person with autism have been with people who have adhd. which is why i’d suggest that daniil saying he’ll tell artemy about thanatica “the way i’d tell a close, intimate friend” is autism/adhd solidarity. despite initially not getting along, they are clearly able to communicate with each other.

i think the rest of this is really self-explanatory. despite being from the town in classic, artemy doesn’t actually appear to have any friends in it. could be a symptom of him having left much ealier (ten years ago as opposed to the five in pathologic 2), but in pathologic 2 his friendships are constantly under threat of spontaneous combustion. this day three conversation with lara sums it up nicely:

Lara: Ugh, whatever. Like it’s any of my business… Do whatever you want. Did you make peace with stakh? Artemy: Doesn’t look like it… Forget Stakh. I see now that I’m one step away from falling out with you. Why?

there’s a variety of reasons why his friendships are falling apart. but it occurs to me that there’s no mention of artemy communicating with his friends at all while he was gone, and maybe that’s contributing to it. this is not an attempt to pick sides (i think everybody’s wrong), i am just pointing this out.

adhd in adults: history of academic or career underachievement, relationship problems due to not completing tasks, chronic stress and worry over failure to accomplish goals, chronic and intense feelings of frustration / guilt / blame

artemy did not finish med school. classic has him described as a “vagrant scholar” traveling from town to town to learn instead of staying in the capital where he was sent (”always ‘on the go’” indeed). in pathologic 2 he simply states that he doesn’t have a degree and that he sucked at latin.

relationship problems mentioned under “making and keeping friendships”, but it should be noted that you can repair your friendships by completing a sidequest on day 3 to gather everyone together. 

“chronic stress and worry over failure to accomplish goals” is sort of the entirety of pathologic 2. you could say it’s built into the game, but artemy does express a lot of stress over not knowing where to turn for answers, has bizarre prophetic dreams, and is plagued by… well, the plague taunting him for not being to save his bound. both when notkin gets sick on day 4 and when all of the children get sick on day 10, he can express an extreme amount of guilt for not having the ability to cure them.

i mentioned under ptsd that artemy has a tendency to be able to blame himself for his father’s death, and i think that fits under here as well. there’s also this:

I get anxious thinking about my kids… Are they faring all right in the Lair without me?

conclusion

i do not know if i have adhd myself and i am sure there are things i am missing, especially as i have not completed artemy’s route in classic yet or started clara’s. feel free to contribute to this, i would love to see others’ input!

[zestria13]

Final Fantasy 15 Thoughts (Spoilers!)

So, I just finished playing Final Fantasy 15 Royal Edition and I have many feelings about it. As I understand it, I have avoided many of the basic gameplay and story problems by buying the Royal Edition, which has all of the patches, dlc's, and fixes many of the bugs encountered when FFXV first came out. Oh, and I have watched the brotherhood anime and the Kingsglaive movie. Overall, my first experience with FFXV is much more complete than it was when the game was initially released (that is my understanding anyways). To be clear, I enjoyed playing FFXV (at least a good portion of it), but I have many issues with it too. One of my main issues with FFXV is the plot, especially the plot following the rite in Altissia. I have read many complaints about how dark FFXV gets after this point and how it becomes a very narrow, plot driven narrative as opposed to its earlier more easygoing and open world setting. To some extent, I agree with these complaints. This change in the game feels very sudden and forced to some degree. However, I personally tend to play heavily narrative games because I like deep, complex plotlines. This turn into a plot driven narrative is not my main issue, though it was, in my opinion, too abrupt a change in the game. My main issue following the events in Altissia, simply, is that the game wasn't as much fun to play after that point. For a game promoting the concept of brotherhood and comradery, that pretty much disappeared after the events in Altissia. Don't get me wrong, I understand the events in Altissia were traumatic for all of the characters and that caused most of the tension, but it was like we were playing with a different group of characters than we started with. All of the comradery seen previously in the game, from the pep talks, to characters interactions, to the short quips in battle (My fav was between Noctis and Ignis, the "You got my back" and "Always" in reply) had created this atmosphere of a team, of a brotherhood that was connected not just by duty, but by genuine friendship. 

But then Altissia happens, and the group just...completely falls apart. There is such an emotional whiplash between the first part of the game and the second part of the game, and its jarring. I honestly felt uncomfortable playing the game after the events in Altissia because the atmosphere was tense and strained, and the comradery present in the first half of the game became nearly nonexistent. Frankly, the game never recovers from this mood shift, and the rest of the game has a sort of sullen, discomforting feel to it. And I know people would argue that the brotherhood comes back together at the end of the game, but I would argue that true reconciliation never happens between the characters, instead making their comradery at the end a byproduct of their circumstances. They never truly deal with the problems created by the events in Altissia and afterwards. They just push them aside because they need to do so in order to work as a team and save the world. Now, is it possible that the remaining trio living in darkness may have dealt with their issues and figured things out, but we wouldn't actually know because we aren't privy to anything that happens during those 10 years. Maybe the game wanted you to understand Noctis's perspective in this way (though they don't really touch on how incredibly disorienting that time skip must have been for Noctis). However, the point stands that there was never really time at any point in the rest of the game following Altissia for the group to reconcile and come back together as a cohesive unit.

That leads me to another huge issue I take with the plot of this game. The ending. I know, already, there are people who will comment and say that "Not everything has a happy ending" and "The sacrifice was necessary to save the world", and so on and so forth. My issue with the ending comes back to the question of why. Especially after having watched Episode Ardyn, I just don't feel that the game gives us a clear cut reason as to why any of the ending needs to happen the way it does. Ok, so the sun goes down and doesn't come up after Noctis is pulled into the Crystal, which means demons have pretty much free reign and everything is much more dangerous. Got it. But why did the sun disappear? I know the game explains that there are organisms infected with the Starscourge that release a light-absorbing miasma, which are the cause of the lengthening nights (though you need to be fairly thorough in your examination of items to learn this). It also mentions the idea that the Oracle dying is related to the longer nights and the disappearing sun, though it never really explains why besides the fact that the Oracle can heal the Starscourge. While I understand that her healing those with Starscourge helps to limit the amount of miasma being put into the world, it seems rather unlikely that one person can ever hope to keep up with that demand. Also, we only ever saw Luna heal people who had not fully turned into demons yet, and I would assume that those people aren't giving off the same level of miasma as fully turned demons. And, we know those fully turned demons exist, in the form of demons the party runs into and the MT's that the empire uses. I'm just not sure it is believable that the Oracle, by themselves, is actually healing enough people to actually prevent the endless night in the first place. As for the other part of the explanation, how did those organisms proliferate to the point where it caused an endless night? Based on what we hear from characters in FFXV and read in the research notes, the appearance of the longer nights was incredibly rapid, which begs the question of why those organisms suddenly started infecting creatures and producing this miasma so quickly in comparison to any other time in the history of this world (as far as we know). All in all, I can't think of a solid reason given in the game as to why the endless night even happens, or perhaps, why it hasn't happened already. 

Moving on, after Noctis is absorbed into the Crystal, we do a ten year time skip. Back to my question of why, why did Noctis have to be in the Crystal for 10 years? I know he went in to gain the power of providence, but 10 years seems a bit excessive. Maybe that’s just me. Ignoring the fact that almost all of the living things in the world would have died without 10 years of sunlight, the fact remains that, in all likelihood, most of the creatures living in that world would have perished, either by being killed by demons or due to a lack of resources. In all honesty, there probably aren't many people alive by the time Noctis returns, and it’s hard to say if a civilization would actually be able to recover from that kind of devastation. Anyways, let's move on to what is my biggest contention with the plot. The prophecy. I have to say, I really, really dislike this plot point in the game. For one, it makes no sense. The true king, in this story, exists to purge their star of the darkness. Ok, cool, love the vague terms. But again, why? The darkness, which basically refers to the Starscourge, has existed for at least 2000 years at this point in the world. If the gods were so invested in this issue, why didn't they address it earlier? Why wait for a so called chosen king after at least 2000 years of this darkness ravaging their world? And what makes Noctis the chosen king? Simply because the gods said so? If that is the case, why didn't they choose a chosen king earlier? I know, after watching Episode Ardyn, that Ardyn was also a chosen king with the ability to absorb Starscourge from other people into himself. An ability, I might add, granted to him by the gods. But when Ardyn tries to ascend to become a king, the Crystal, where Bahamut resides, suddenly rejects him because of his ability (which, again, was given to him by the gods), and so he is rejected basically by the gods via the gift they gave him. Which makes no sense. As we know, this action leads to the circumstances we see in the game. 

To me, at this point, it seems that the gods on Eos are incompetent and create this prophecy in order to fix the problem they created. This seems to become more glaringly obvious when Bahamut tells Ardyn (in Episode Ardyn) that he literally is a pawn in their game to fix the problem they created. At its core, that is what makes me so very frustrated with this prophecy plot line. It seems that the characters in this game are no more than pawns being made to do what the gods tell them to do, and that everything in this world is preordained. Not only does that rake against my own beliefs as an individual, but it ruins the purpose of the game for me. If everything is preordained, then what is the point? It also hurts my perception of the characters as well because the characters, except for Ardyn maybe, never think to go against the determinations made by the gods, they just go along with it. They never stop to consider trying to find another way and instead simply accept their fates as is. I understand there is something inherently powerful and moving in sacrificing yourself to save others, but making it fate instead of an active choice lessens the impact. Noctis doesn't choose to sacrifice himself to save Eos, it is forced upon him. There is no sense of choice here, merely one of acceptance. The cruelty of Noctis' preordained fate disturbs me. Not only is Noctis just randomly chosen to die to save the world, but the gods see fit to inform his father of that when Noctis is 5. I cannot truly imagine the depth of sorrow and helplessness probably felt by Regis in being told that his son is basically a sacrifice. Undoubtedly, knowing that weighed heavily on Regis and I'm sure at times that knowledge put a dour edge on his time with Noctis. One of the saddest things about Noctis' fate is how little time he actually gets to live. I know he is technically 30 at the time of his death, but he really only lived 20 years. Not only is his life cut short, but he actually loses a third of it in the process of becoming the ideal sacrifice for the gods. To me, Noctis' fate is just unbearably cruel. And don't misunderstand, I actually like games that have darker themes and angst in them, but I think there is a balance in crafting stories and this story didn't quite find a balance. And the thing is, I think the creators of the game have acknowledged that too, as they have now created 2 alternative storylines where Noctis doesn't die and his fate is subverted in some way. Personally, I prefer the message given in the Final Fantasy 7 remake where the characters actively fight against a pre-determined destiny, instead of simply accepting their destiny as is. I have more thoughts on the subject of Final Fantasy 15, but for the moment I will end my writing here.

[fizzingwizard]

We got episode 3 “Into the Digital World”! And the good news is we are still Very Much at it with the Taishiro lol

This pic pretty much sums up the whole episode for me:

❤️!

Spoilers under the cut...

So let’s knock the most important thing off right away, at the end of the ep they DO go to a real digital world!

And it looks like a child’s fantasy... a beautiful natural world full of amazing creatures. I have no idea how similar it’s gonna be to the world we know, though! So far everything’s different, even things that seem the same. Keeps me guessing.

The landscape is pretty intriguing. Looks like a planet/moon on the horizon? And I’m sure that interesting island’s gotta mean something...

But back to the beginning.

So last week, I was all boggled because they introduced Omegamon and Jogress so early. It was easy to think that since they’d started this hype wave, they were gonna keep riding it out, especially with Hikari and Takeru seeming to receive magic feathers and all. Well, that’s not really how it goes down.

The battle is very quiet, with few words - none at all from Taichi or Yamato until Koushirou gets their attention. I am not 100% sure about this, but from the way Taichi looks to the side when an attack comes his way and Omegamon then takes it out, I think it might mean Taichi and Yamato have some mental work of their own to do to help Omegamon fight and that’s why they’re so quiet. But that’s just a thought. I do love the idea that the kids’ ties to their Digimon have more of an affect on their ability to battle than just their evolutions.

One thing a Jogress does is make you glow. Yeah yeah, we glowed before too. No, I mean GLOW.

Like, nonstop.

Also, I have figured out that Taichi and Yamato must have suction cups on their shoes and that’s how they don’t fall off Omegamon while he’s hurtling all over the place

Cue awesome rock version of the theme song battle music!! Omegamon kills nu!Diaboromon the same way he kills him in Our War Game, with a STAB. But that doesn’t stop the missile. Here I thought would be Koushirou’s turn to shine, but aside from continuing to keep tabs on things, he doesn’t get to join in the fight this time.

Omegamon is somehow able to detect missiles, I guess?

And lock on to the infected one, which conveniently shows an actual lock, is red, and even has the monster’s eyeball symbol. We also see a bunch of Digi code before this.

He absorbs the powers of all the Crests into his sword (!!) ...

(notice they’re still glowing!)

... and stabs it. Because in Digimon, stabbing is always the answer.

BOOM shakalaka

People of Tokyo: Wow that’s bright! I should probably avert my eyes or put on sunglasses. But first, to Instagram!

Thanks, Kouushirou’s computer.

The missle blows up way up high and no one gets hurt. They also don’t seem to care all that much about what this is either! Seconds later everyone’s devices lose power, including Koushirou’s computer. He is very distressed, but the outage doesn’t last long.

Yamato and Taichi’s suction cups finally lose their grip and they fall away into a bright light...

Omegamon became a butterfly!!

It is now certain, Taichi didn’t pull a Kouichi xD He’s perfectly fine. That’s the RIGHT way to get in and out of the digital world at a train station. Take notes, kids.

OK before we move on I must take a second to appreciate these text messages Koushirou receives from someone named Mr.Unknown (gee I’m sure we’ll never hear from him again!)

OMG my life is

WHAT KIND OF REACTION IS THAT TO YOUR IMMINENT DEATH!?!?

“Someone stop it!” Suddenly Japanese (also from Mr.Unkown)

Twenty bucks says this guy is Gennai? Ryou? Wallace? KEN?!

no don’t bet against me please, I have no money.

Have an adorable Hikari, who didn’t get to do anything with the feather in the end. Who knows if she even really has it. She DOES seem to totally know what happened with her brother though. Takeru might know also? But Hikari definitely does. Our little oracle is back.

So Taichi is fine, Koushirou is fine, Yamato is fine. They all get back to the human world safely. Taichi and Koushirou head home, wondering if all that really happened, talking about what could happen next. More importantly, the Taishiro power returns at full throttle.

Koushirou: Do you know about this? This? This?

Taichi: Hmm... hmmm... hmmm.. thinking makes my head hurt...

(Like I rag on Taichi for not thinking but tbh he’s quite the thinker and planner... maybe more so in this season than in the original.)

Gloves returned to pocket. Goggles still at the ready.

Then Taichi reaches out his hand... Koushirou stares at it like he’s not quite sure what to do with it. And Taichi’s like, “Thank you so much, for everything, you were a huge help!”

Koushirou: “But I didn’t do anything.”

Taichi: “You helped so much by doing all that research! You’re awesome!”

Koushirou: :D “Y-Yeah!!”

He agrees that he’s awesome!! My baby!!

They shake hands! They’re such good friends now!

... Then Taichi walks backwards out of the elevator with his hand still outstretched, staring at Koushirou

WHAT

WHAT THE HECK IS THIS!?!?

This show producers aren’t even TRYING to hide their bias hahaha okay that’s the Taishiro fan in me but HOW ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO READ THIS SCENE CMON LIKE!?

So Taichi’s about to go home, and at this point I’m thinking “I guess Koushirou’s never gonna ask that question about camp...!”

Then Taichi is like, “Oh yeah, didn’t you have a question about camp?”

Fricking. TAICHI.

I am absolutely stunned that it’s him who brings up Koushirou’s original errand xD Koushirou himself has completely forgotten about it! (Too busy basking in the glow of being called awesome about twenty times in what this episode establishes is less than an hour!)

Seriously Taichi is SUCH A DAD!? His mom comes home and tells him about her day. Hikari comes over and he pats her on the head and tells her she was brave and did a good job. All he needs is a newspaper and a tie to reach peak Dad-ness.

Hikari: “Thanks big brother!”

Taichi: “...? For?”

So about Yamato... on the elevator Taichi realizes he never found out where Yamato lives...

... It’s Shimane. Grandma’s house in Shimane! Well I mean, they could make it somewhere else, but the point is it’s super inaka countryside. Yamato has a call with Takeru which makes it seem like they indeed don’t live together, as Takeru shyly asks Yamato if he’ll come visit since it’s summer break, and Yamato says he does intend to go to Tokyo and see him. Not sure yet who Yamato’s living with, if it’s still his dad or he lives with his grandparents in this version, or there’s some other reason he’s not in Tokyo...

Yamato also asks if Takeru’s okay, and Takeru replies he was inside all day so he’s fine. That’s what makes me think Takeru knows about Yamato going to the digital world. He might not, but I like the idea that he does. My guess would be he knows because he’s seen Yamato do it or something, whereas Hikari just knows because she’s psychic :P

Then guess what! WE GO TO CAMP!

Only for like, two minutes, though. That was a bummer for me. Camp is just a vehicle to introduce a couple other characters, then they go home. Well, we don’t need two of the exact same show I guess... I’ll just appreciate this as a nod to the original.

First we see Jou! He’s hancho again and trying to tell other kids how to use a knife. He immediately cuts his finger. Good ole Jou I can’t wait to have him back.

Taichi and Koushirou are walking around camp and Koushirou trips due to Jou yelling and basically throws his laptop straight into the air

Laptop: “FREEEEEDOM!”

Mr Superior Reflexes AKA Taichi quickly grabs Koushirou and prevents him from smashing face first into the dirt. GOSH THEY JUST WILL NOT STOP WITH THE TAISHIRO. I CANNOT.

Koushirou: “H-H-Human c-c-contact?!?!?! Is this SKINSHIP”

Like y’all know this isnt my fault right? I wouldn’t have to say these things if the show didn’t make it so durn easy. Bahahahaha.

Guess who catches the laptop! Soooooraaaaa!

My girl is back! She’s got butterflies!

Koushirou says he knows who she is because the girls in his class always talk about how she’s so cooooool!

This episode establishes that Sora is 1) popular 2) well-liked 3) responsible 4) quick-thinking 5) athletic 6) Taichi’s old friend 7) coooooool in like, thirty seconds.

Taichi and Koushirou continue to spend aaaaaall their time together. My one complaint here is that all they do is talk about the digital world. And while I know it’s no surprise, the one thing I always loved about old Adventure was that to a certain extent, the kids got to act like kids. Of course they had uncanny adult wisdom and ability to sit still, lol. I understand that. So far in this show, they’re not really acting like children even a little bit. It’s all superheroing. That’s how I feel at the moment though - the only one I expect to really act like a child is Takeru, and probably Mimi, I’d guess. I do hope we get to see a larger range of personality from all of them in the future. It is only episode three.

Koushirou’s icon is a pineapple <3

So there’s a new threat but it’s not as obvious as the old one. Another power outage happens but they don’t know how important it is right away. Then both Taichi and Koushirou’s digivices start to glow! Taichi runs out, and here we finally got some new personality from him, something beyond friendliness and bravery: He really, really wants to see Agumon again. He’s already feeling the depth of that bond and it’s really been weighing on him that they parted so abruptly. He has so many questions. I would say, Koushirou talked about the digital world non stop because he finds it interesting, but Taichi talked about it because he misses Agumon. (Koushirou after all hasn’t met Tentomon yet.)

Before he can run out, Taichi runs into Hikari in the living room. She’s worried, and she clearly knows what he’s up to, but all she says is “Itterasshai.” I super appreciate that the set up and lighting is the same as these scenes between the two of them in original Adventure! It’s a total throwback to that hallmark ep of Adventure, episode 21.

Unable to think about anything but seeing Agumon again, Taichi runs outside to the train station where Koushirou is (I wonder if the train station is going to become like their base point or something). He doesn’t even notice Sora, but she notices him...

... and in true Sora fashion, immediately turns around and starts chasing after Taichi without a word xD

ugh I will always hate how PINK she is in this

Sora: “Taichi’s running somewhere awful fast... he has that look on his face... he’s going to get into trouble ugh I just know it”

The digivices glow and both Taichi and Koushirou disappear into the digital world. As they go through the vortex, we see a bunch of colored lights...

So this one is clearly Taichi and Koushirou, and Sora as well. My guess is she gets swallowed up as a result of following Taichi.

However, over here we have Yamato, Jou, and Mimi, but why would they all be together? Yamato’s fine, but how are the other two getting in?

It doesn’t seem like Takeru’s joining this time, which is interesting. But I might be wrong - only episode 4 will tell.

Taichi wakes up in the real Digital World and is finally reunited with Agumon. End episode 3 <3

I’m really curious about what’s coming next! I’m still pretty shocked that a Jogress happened so early, but I’m gonna guess now that we might not see it again for a good long while. My prediction is that Yamato’s gonna be more like the lone wolves of other seasons (Ken, Ruki, Kouji, etc) who don’t want to join the main team right away, then suddenly just do. Everyone loves a rogue hero. I am super excited for the whole team to be together though so we can see all those personality dynamics grow! I really want them to not go home for a while and have to live by their wits, but I don’t think that’s the way this show wants to go, it wants the drama of going back and forth between lives... OTOH, we now know for sure that it IS summer break, so I suppose they don’t really have a NEED to go home. Maybe we’ll get a bit of both - they usually go home after, but sometimes end up on a longer stay?

I think what I need most from this show is the rest of the team before it will really feel like Digimon Adventure to me. So looking forward to episode 4!

eta: I totally forgot about the pics I took of the trailer for next week!

Look how awesome this is! This is exactly what I am hoping sticks around for a good long time! We need the partners to bond and we need to live up to the name of “Adventure”!

Since the trailer only shows Taichi and Sora, I wonder if that means everyone’s split up. Koushirou’s light seemed a bit distant from the other two in that screencap up there, so maybe he lands somewhere else and they all have to find each other. Makes sense, really. I’d expected that for the other three but figured Koushirou would be with Taichi... but it’ll be awesome if he has to try to get by on his own in the beginning. Also, so excited for Birdramon!

Bonus: I found a vid on youtube that claimed to have English subs and I clicked out of curiosity... this is what it wrote when Taichi says “Koushirou”:

X’D Koushirou has so many nicknames now. DJ Wiseman, Kou the Bro, Awesome, Taichi’s New God, Godzilla... I love Youtube.

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 11

and here we have to conclusion to the shadowplay arc...

clearly prowl hasn't seen national treasure smh

prowl, what exactly is confusing you about ‘secret government-sanctioned brainwashing facility’

the fact that prowl was willing to go so strongly against his morals to protect chromedome...oof bro 

so the senator is basically professor x and all the outliers are mutants. got it

senator shockwave was just a sexy thot who wanted justice....poor guy

so there ARE gloves on cybertron...am I to just assume that the doctors don't like using them for some reason????? I mean tbf I've known a few medical professionals who don't wear gloves during certain procedures, like giving shots which, imo, yikes I would never, even simple vaccines can cause bleeding, but to each their own...are ppe rules not strict on cybertron, or is there a low risk of infection transfer due to the nature of cybertronian diseases? ah, the real questions 

anyways. I should stop going on extremely off-topic medical rants

I relate to tailgate in his tendency to misspell. these liveblogs would be unreadable if it weren't for spellcheck

ouch, the fact that cd ‘never really forgave’ prowl for leaving the heist party w/out a word, even tho it turns out prowl stormed off w/a final request to keep cd safe and out of it all....cd and prowl are just a big tragic trainwreck huh

its interesting that skids used to be religious, when it seems like he isn't now. Wonder What Could Have Caused That Shift In Ideology! Hm!

oh my god I love how ironfist’s fanboy ranting about the primal vanguard is cut short just as he’s saying ‘a bomb disposal kit once used by-’ bc its like Oh I bet he was about to mention tailgate, yknow, the guy who (claims he) was the primal vanguard’s bomb disposal guy...that's such a great little detail

the stuff we hear from roller about senator shockwave is super interesting - it sounds like he’s been pretty aware of the state of society for a while, and has been trying to combat it from the inside...which isn't going so great, it seems, considering the state of society at the time. 

also the whole ‘modifying people to hold the matrix (sometimes without their consent?)’ thing he’s got going on is. interesting. again, is there any sort of ethics laws on cybertron, seriously guys,

oof, op cares so much abt senator sw :( they were in love okay 

red alert :( 

rodimus is such an interesting character AUGH the fact that he takes red alert’s potential suicide to be a personal failing on his part as a captain...which, yknow, that idea has merit considering rodimus’s part in the whole overlord thing, as well as rodimus having told red alert that ‘everyone thought he was losing it.’ yeahhhhh, that's not quite the approach to take w/someone clearly suffering from a paranoid breakdown

poor magnus has no idea about all the overlord stuff, which is what triggered red alert’s breakdown 

tho, magnus, idk that putting red alert in a cryofreeze chamber or w/e is the solution here. although maybe they’re all just at a loss bc cybertron’s only mental health specialist is current hanging out comatose in a bar

are we supposed to (retrospectively) read into rodimus and drift’s agreement to put red alert in storage as a way of covering up the overlord stuff? did they deduce that he figured out about overlord and that's what caused his breakdown? rodimus seems genuinely distressed about the whole cold storage situation, but is there more to it than ‘I failed as a captain bc this guy had a breakdown under my command’? I genuinely do not remember a lot about the overlord plot bc I was so confused the first time I read it and the second time I was too busy being extremely sad, so.

genuinely shocked that cybertron even has ‘health and safety inspections.’ it just figures that the one ratchet conducted wasn't an actual inspection, but an excuse to prepare for some good ole fashioned heisting

man I love a good heist/break-in

ok so skids rlly is just here for his grappling hook hvbhksddfjbjkdf my man

UH OH SENATE GOONS. never good

whoa, cybertronians have glenohumeral joints?? tho, ratchet says ‘glenohumeral socket,’ which doesn't exist in humans - we have a glenoid cavity/fossa/socket that articulates w/the head of the humerus to form the glenohumeral joint, so, close enough

anyways, that sure was a nonsequiter. ratchet busting out his lock picking skills is dope. do they teach that sorta stuff in cybertronian medical school? maybe its in place of the patient confidentiality lesson

seriously, ratchet sure knows a lot about bombs for a doctor. maybe they also cut out the courses on ppe and patient consent to make room for the cool stuff like BOMB CLASSES

op really DOES like jumping off stuff, doesn't he 

oh no senator :( 

JK HERES OP BUSTIN THRU A DUDES CHEST 

oh no roller :( 

‘remember me how I was’ NOOOO IM GONNA FUCKING CRY. SW AND OP MAKE ME SO SAD. GOD 

op yeeted that matrix bomb like he was trying to make a touchdown or...something. not sure why I chose football, the only sport I dislike, as my metaphor here 

lol it blew up a police station, nice

god, that reveal that the institute that we saw last issue was just one of many....and the one we saw was strikingly awful enough, so the fact that there's a ton more like that....oof

also, again, super interested in the fact that cd was involved in this arc where they see how scary and evil the institute is and then ended up working for the institute - well, the ‘new institute’ - later on

I'm weeping at the ‘big reveal’ for tailgate being that orion pax is optimus prime....its so funny that he didn't know that so it was a huge twist for him and absolutely nobody else hvbakdjhfbksjdf I love tailgate

also. is that the picture somebody drew of op for tg lmao

:D and then skids manages to wake rung up!!! all by getting his name wrong lmao. tho, maybe all the storytelling helped!

oh shit its zeta (prime?), here to talk to op, presumably about becoming the next space pope

HHHHHHHHHHHHHH GOD THAT REVEAL!!!!!!!!!!!!! BROOOOO the senator shockwave reveal slapped me right in the FACE the first time I read this, and that's saying something bc I seriously only understood like 40% of the shadowplay story my first readthru. but the shockwave reveal still had me SHOOK like oh god that was so fucking brutal. jesus

like the fact that the emotionless decpeticon shockwave used to have a completely different look and personality is already crazy enough, but then the tie-ins of empurata and shadowplay? brutal and amazing

like, this is the kinda retrospective backstory stuff that I love. it gives a lot of cool depth to both the characters and the world. I feel like it really helped cement concepts like empurata and shadowplay in the world 

and just, AUGH The Reveal still gets me...im pretty sure in my first readhtru I only picked up the fact that the senator PURPOSELY hasn't been named during this issue, and I was kinda ready for some sort of reveal but also figured it could be someone I didn't know bc of my limited tf lore knowledge, but even I knew who shockwave was and phew that blew me away 

that full-page art spread is fuckin banging also 

anyways, shadowplay arc! I really enjoy this arc and all its genre-hopping goodness, and the framing device of the characters telling a story is a lot of fun. plus we get to see a lot of cool backstory for many characters, and got tons of great worldbuilding for jro’s pre-war cybertron. 

I understood a lot more of the story upon my second (and now third) readthru of the series, which was super rewarding bc the first time I wasn't able to follow a lot of stuff (1st readthru I tended to assume that me being confused about something was due to my lack of previous knowledge of lore/story, so I didn't often analyze stuff seriously, or even employ critical thinking skills lmao). 

also some gnarly stuff went on w/the red alert b-plot, which we’ll pick up with later....

[realm-sweet-realm]

To act in your stead

Sorry this chapter took so long. I hope you enjoy it. It is chapter 3 of the body swap to the death Au.

---

Susie looked up at the ink pipes she’d installed. A child would have been able to tell where the professionally-installed pipes ended and hers began. They were crooked, going up and down like a zigzag at every joint. As a result, a few of them leaking slightly. Hopefully, they were easily fixed and she was doing more than wasting a week or more of Tom’s work schedule. Hopefully, they’d stay together for another four days. She’d reduced the ink pressure to make that a little more likely, at least. “Hey, Tom! Get over here!” An irritable voice came from behind her.

It was Sammy. Tom hated Sammy, so she rolled her eyes and gave him a sharp look. “What?”

“Come with me to my office!”

Susie just nodded. Normally she would have been intimidated, but she was beginning to see why Tom wouldn’t have been. Sammy looked tiny compared to her now, and wasn’t scary in the least even as he was stomping and angry like this.

Once the two of them were in Sammy’s office and the door was closed, Sammy uncurled his fists and stopped looking so angry. “Sorry about that,” he said. “So... without giving too much away, I’m a person who knows a thing or two about mechanics, and it looked like you needed help. Can I help you?”

Susie tried not to look too happy. This was a godsend. “Yes, that would be nice.”

“Excellent. So, obviously I can’t just go on out there and start getting my hands dirty, but I could tell you what you’re doing wrong. First, are you cutting the pipes?”

“They need to be cut?”

Allison had no idea, but suspected they didn’t. “Of course. If they’re the wrong length, they’ll all be crooked, and they’ll wear out in a matter of weeks.”

“What do I cut them with?”

“An electric hand saw. Do you have one at home?”

“I don’t know. There’s a lot of tools in the garage. Some looked electric. One might be a handsaw.”

“Well, I’m sure that there’s something there that we can use to cut pipes. If you want me to come over, I could show you how to use it.”

“Sounds good, thank you. I’ll come find you at six,” Susie deadpanned. Once she left and immediately found a quiet place where she could let her happiness out. Thank goodness, now she’d be able to actually do this properly! Unfortunately, whoever “Sammy” was hadn’t dropped any hints, though. The kindness sheer lack of emotionality suggested Henry, but the mechanical knowledge suggested Thomas. It must have been Lacie. She seemed like she had the capacity for both.

That evening, “Thomas” took Allison back to her and Tom’s house. Allison knew where the handsaw was, but she pretended to search the shelves until “Thomas” fished it out of the drawer.

“Okay,” Allison said, setting a board up on the sawhorse, “Let’s practice with some wooden boards before moving on to pipes. So, you’ll want to have it on a solid surface when you turn it on, like this.” She pressed a button on it and it came to life. “Want me to demonstrate how to cut a board?”

“I’d love that,” “Thomas” said, still in his gravelly voice. He wasn’t giving away any hints. Well, reaction to fear might end up being a giveaway.

Allison transferred the saw to her left hand and held the board with her right. “Alright. Just like this.” She began cutting, spraying sawdust and making that horrible saw noise. She was so uncoordinated with her left hand that she wasn’t sure she could pull this off.

Susie watched, disturbed that Sammy was cutting towards his hand. But, he probably knew what he was doing. Once it got close enough, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Sammy, move your hand!”

“What? I always-“ and then it happened. The handsaw was spraying blood, and her hand was being cut between the thumb and index finger. It was no small feat of willpower to force the blade a little further before turning it off. Allison was screaming. Susie was screaming. She ran into the house.

“Sammy!” she called “Get the first aid kit!” Oh, this was too good. Allison had noticed how irritable “Allison” had been, and she’d suspected that a lot of people were switched in pairs, but now she had confirmation.

“Thomas” and “Allison” came back into the garage. The look on “Allison’s” face was priceless as he caught sight of the mess of his hand. “What have you done?!” he yelled. “How will you play instruments like that?!”

At this point, Allison realized that she hadn’t actually looked at the damages yet. They were bad. The blood running down it and squirting from some ruptured artery she’d been able to feel, but the sawdust trapped inside of it- well, that was a bonus. It would probably get infected. The cut was long and deep, too. He was lucky that all the fingers were still attached. She was lucky it was throbbing so hard, or she would have had trouble hiding her satisfaction.

Twenty minutes later, Allison’s wound had been washed and bandaged, and the look of terror still hadn’t fully left Sammy’s face. He couldn’t express anger at her without revealing himself, of course, but Allison could sense it in him. When he looked at her, she could just see him silently yelling out the question: “who are you? Why did you do this to me?!”

—-

Aside from Allison’s revenge, the only notable thing that had happened on Wednesday was that “Joey” had proposed to “Henry” that they gather the players at his house a few hours before seven, so that none of them would be doing anything dangerous when it happened. This served several purposes. For one, it would allow Henry to see his kids, maybe for the last time. For another, it would give him an opportunity to drop off evidence at his house. He’d bring it in champagne boxes and slip them into his room when no one was watching. Joey was happy with the arrangement as well: he had several hunches but was only certain of three identities at the moment, and packing everyone into a closed space where they’d be all but forced to interact seemed like a great way to figure some out. He was getting a little desperate, and he wasn’t the only one.

Come Thursday morning, Bertrum was running out of time and he knew it. Not survival-wise, of course: decades in the public eye had left him with some excellent people-reading skills, and he had fair guesses on at least three or four identities. He was also quite the actor, and, since he had no idea what Jack Fain was like, had been pretending to be a different person every day that week to throw anyone off his trail. Yes, survival-wise, he was doing great. But he still hadn’t caught a single glimpse of himself, and the meeting was tonight. And so, Bertrum was standing at the only entrance to Joey Drew Studios in wait.

Finally, “Bertrum” came in, and “Jack” didn’t hesitate to stop him. “Can I speak with you?”

“Oh, uh, sure. I’m in no particular rush.” Whoever this was, they were putting no effort at all into being the Great Bertrum Piedmont, aside from a poorly faked deep, British voice. But now wasn’t the time to be guessing identities.

“This will take all day.”

“Oh, okay. Well, first I need to go check on the Bendyland employees, and have an in-depth meeting with Lacie. Can I meet you back here later?”

Bertrum supposed he could use an opportunity to see what he had to work with. “I’ll come with you,” he insisted.

“Well, okay,” Jack replied, chirpy but a bit nervous. Jack was not a good actor, and he knew it. He definitely didn’t think that he could project Bertrum Piedmont-levels of bravado and confidence. His strategy had basically been been to avoid everyone except for Lacie, whose identity he hadn’t figured out yet, but that’s what the meeting was for. Well, now it seemed like he’d have to act the best he could for whoever was inhabiting his body.

The two arrived at Bendyland, where three Bendyland employees were slacking off, playing the target shooting game. Lacie was one of them. Jack cupped his hands together. “Hey!” he snapped, trying to get their attention. Was that a Bertrum-like way to get attention? He didn’t know, and with whoever was in his body breathing down his neck, he was getting really nervous. If they heard him, they didn’t listen, so he walked up to them. Even the way he walks is self-effacing, Bertrum thought to himself, almost offended at this... parody of himself. “Hey,” Jack said, quieter now that he was closer to them. The Bendyland workers finally looked up from their game to him.

“What?” One of them asked casually. All three of them were grinning, the two non-players wondering if Alzheimer’s had caught up to their boss and made him go soft.

“Are you, uh, fellows doing your quota of work?” There was no anger or accusation in his voice.

“Yeah.”

“Do you need me to do anything?” Jack truthfully had no idea what he was supposed to do. He’d designed some attractions and checked on the employees every day. That seemed like the right thing to do, or at least, the closest he could figure out.

“Nope, we’re good.” Bertrum could tell that they had barely done a thing. The crates of decor that they were supposed to put up this week were sitting next to the game, most not even opened.

“Okay, then. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

Jack turned around and stumbled over an ink pipe on the floor, which made the Bendyland workers laugh. Bertrum couldn’t take it any longer. “That’s it! You do not laugh at the great Bertrum Piedmont! Now get to work before he comes to his senses!”

The workers froze, then frantically went over to one of the crates and began decorating.

“Now you’re coming with me,” Bertrum said to Jack.

“Uh, sure. Hey, Lacie? I’ll come find you when I’m ready, okay?”

Lacie shrugged, not looking away from her work. “Sure.”

As soon as Jack and Bertrum were out of the studio, Bertrum spoke up. “Alright. No need for fancy introductions. I am the great Bertrum Piedmont, and I happen to have a very important meeting tonight. A meeting with the great Clifford Clines, CEO of Cedar Springs Entertainment. He’s considering me as the creator of his brand’s first theme park. Do you know how long it takes to create a theme park? If he wants an especially large park- and I assure you, he will- this could be the project that my son takes over for me once I retire or- or retire. This could be the first project in the next stage of the Colossal Wonders legacy! But that’s only if I can whip you into shape. Stand up straight. Puff your chest out. Stop holding yourself like you’re halfway apologizing for your existence. For the next four days, you’re pretending to be someone whose presence is a gift. Now, who are you?”

Jack had been obeying him, but he couldn’t answer that. “Sorry, I want to live. I can’t-“

“No. I mean, who are you?”

“Bertrum Piedmont.”

“Say it like you’ve been him all your life!”

“I am the great Bertrum Piedmont!”

“Good! Yes! Or at least, I’ll teach you to be him!”

That afternoon, as Bertrum taught Jack how to behave at his meeting, it finally came time for ink to be run through the ink pipes that “Thomas” had installed. Susie really wasn’t sure about this. She’d been too afraid to call and ask about cutting the pipes because of how obvious a question it probably was. Of course she shouldn’t cut the pipes- who would think of such a thing? And she had some serious doubts about the purity of “Sammy’s” intentions. But by deciding to ignore his advice, she was stuck with those crooked, zigzag pipes.

After she put the last pipe in, she looked back to see if “Henry” was still watching her. He was. Alright, no hesitation, then. She walked over, threw the switch all the way instead of inching up the pressure. Not fifteen seconds later, the resulting cacophony made her duck for cover on instinct. Pipes clattered to the ground, struck her, or shot at the walls. Ink was spraying everywhere. And “Henry” was still standing there with an expressionless look on his face. Not even Norman was this creepy! What would Thomas do in this situation? Don’t cry. Don’t freak out. Don’t cry. Do something you idiot! Turn off the ink pressure.That’s what Susie did, before making her way to the music department, where five of the players would be. As she passed it by, she also noticed that the ink machine was making some very concerning clunking and creaking noises.

Right in the middle of a recording, an ink-covered and very distressed-looking Thomas Connor burst into the the recording studio. “I need some backup,” he said, trying not to sound distressed “I can’t handle the ink machine anymore and I need someone who does to help me. “Jack” and “Alice” weren’t even there, so there wasn’t a great chance that anyone there would even be able to help. “Norman” quietly slipped out.

Lacie knew that she couldn’t help with this without narrowing down everyone’s quarry when it came to her, so she went off to find herself. There she was, decorating a Bendyland game booth. “Hey, Lacie. Come with me. Bring your tool kit.”

“Okay.”

As they made their way from the the Bendyland department, Lacie explained the plan. “Alright. Now, I have some hidden depths. My father was a mechanic. And right now, things need fixing. So I need you to pretend to be the one fixing them. I’ll quietly follow you at a distance and do the actual fixing, alright? First thing’s first, go to the recording studio and ask Thomas where the problem is.”

Shawn agreed to it, and Lacie fell behind him, walking softly as though she were stalking him.

When they got back to the music department, “Thomas” was on the phone with GENT. “What do you mean, ‘I’m the only one who knows how to maintenance the ink machine? That can’t be right.”

Shawn grabbed "Thomas” by the shoulder. “Hey. You show me where the problem is, I’ll fix it.”

As Lacie followed the two to the scene of the disaster, all she could think of was two things: first, “Lacie” must have known her pretty well, because he was doing one hell of an acting job. Secondly, his voice sounded off. Suppressing an accent, maybe? Both pointed to the same two identities: Shawn and Bertrum. She’d figured out who the other music department players were aside from Alice, but she could always use another layer of protection, and with how different Shawn and Bertrum were, chances were she was going to get one.

“Right here,” “Thomas” said once they arrived at the location. “And please, check on the ink machine, too. I don’t think I’m maintaining it properly. I can’t thank you enough.” Lacie had to hide around a corner from “Thomas” and “Lacie” until “Thomas” split from them.

As soon as Lacie saw the mess of the hallway, she knew that there wasn’t much to be done about it. For some pipes it would have just been a simple matter of adjusting, but others had been twisted from all that pressure, and almost half of them had fallen straight off the wall. It would take easily a day to fix, and the projectionist couldn’t just disappear for that long. “Yep. Let’s go to the ink machine,” Lacie declared.

After turning the ink machine off and opening it up, the problem became obvious: the gears were too clogged with thick ink to turn properly. As a result, the machine was overheating to the point where it almost burned to touch. “You’re gonna have to have to handle this one, Lacie. It would be awfully hard to explain why the projectionist has this kind of ink on their hands.”

“Lacie” made a face, but nonetheless got in there with his hands and started shoveling out the hot sludge.

“Oh yeah. One more thing,” Lacie said before stomping down on Shawn’s foot.

“Eejit! Mo fecken chos!” Shawn screamed before realizing that he’d outed himself and turning redder than a beet.

“Hi, Shawn. You do one hell of an impression.”

“Ah, well, I’ve figured you out, too, Lacie. I know you better than you know yerself.” he plucked, annoyed but playful and in full Irish accent. He threw a glob of ink at her, which she dodged.

She already knew three identities. Was the extra safety worth selling out Shawn?

Lacie laughed a little. “Well, I have to get back to my projector booth before someone gets suspicious. Meet me after work, alright?” —- “Another brandy, barkeep, if you please,” Bertrum called out across the way. If he was going to have a younger liver for the next little bit, he might as well use it. It was evening, and Bertrum had coached his little body snatcher on everything there was to know about being the Great Bertrum Piedmont. Through all that teaching, though, he’d seen enough of the man to figure out who he was.

It had been a hard week for Bertrum, not only because of the professional stress and mortal danger, but because everyone seemed to expect him to just go along with whatever they said. Like he had no desires of his own. It’s how non-players treated him. It’s how players tested and needled at him. And Bertrum had snapped at a few of them- hopefully not hard enough to give him away. But that kind of behaviour that they expected of him seemed to be exactly what came naturally to his student. It was Jack Fain. Self-effacing, kind-to-a-fault, laid-back, embarrassed-to-be-alive Jack Fain. And those upper crust business men were going to eat him alive.

“Barkeep! Another, please!” At least this body was good at handling liquor. He must have drank six of these things and he didn’t feel inebriated in the slightest. When would Jack get here?

Finally, Bertrum heard Jack’s voice, using a now much less fake-sounding accent. “Hey. Want some news?” Strange- he sounded fairly perky. Bertrum turned to him. He looked pretty pleased with himself and was holding an envelope. Bertrum allowed himself some hope.

“Go ahead.”

“You got it. He wants the biggest theme park the world’s ever seen!”

Bertrum nearly fell out of his seat. He snatched the letter out of Jack’s hands. It contained the date and location of what would be their first meeting to discuss the park. “I- well- thank you!” Bertrum stuttered. Maybe he wasn’t handling the liquor as well as he thought. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure,” Jack replied, sitting down.

“How have you been handling the game?” Bertrum asked friendily.

Jack grimaced. “Yours is the only identity I’ve figured out.. But I don’t think anyone’s guessed me, so I think I’m alright. I just need to keep a low profile, and that shouldn’t be hard, aside from Henry’s party.”

Bertrum knew that if Jack played like that, he was surely dead. He put on his gentlest voice and said, “Actually, I think I’ve figured out who you are. Are you Jack Fain?”

There was fear in Jack’s eyes for a moment, but he quickly forced it out of them. “No. You’re wrong.” He got up and left, stopping a moment to look back. If he hadn’t said that, he could have asked how his family was. But it was too late for that. In that moment it sunk in that he needed to find another identity if he ever wanted to see them again.

Bertrum got up to chase after Jack, and tell him one of the identities he’d figured out so that he would be safe. After Jack had nailed the meeting, he deserved that much. But Bertrum fell over almost immediately- his legs were just too unsteady from booze.

[lonesomealley]

Borderlands 3 Review

*Writer’s Note: I played this game when it came out and have based my review on the version of the game that I played then. Some of this information may become outdated with time. 

DISCLAIMER: This review is going to contain a lot of spoilers for Borderlands 3, if you don’t want that then this is not the review for you. My overall opinion of this game is that it’s… okay. It entirely depends on what you value out of a video game. Borderlands 3 is, at heart, just another Borderlands that’s been somewhat dumbed down, and if you don’t like the Borderlands series’ base mechanics (i.e. farming, constantly throwing away weak gear, getting stomped on for being underleveled) then this is not the game for you. If you value storytelling in your video games, this game is absolutely not the game for you. However if you’re someone who just wants to shoot some guys and already like, or think you’ll like, Borderlands’ looting systems then this game is going to range anywhere from okay to good. It should be kept in mind that this review is meant to take into account many of the different aspects of the game, hence why this review is going to have a far lower score than many other reviewers/media publications seem to be rewarding it.

I don’t really know if Borderlands 3 is worth the $60 asking price, and I would ultimately say to either wait for the game to go on sale or at least wait for it to go up on Steam. This is because the game really is just a dumbed down Borderlands entry, you could easily just go buy the Handsome Collection for $60 (if you haven’t already) and have just as good, even better, of a time. Also that Steam has more laid back refund policies than the Epic Store (which can be blamed for this review existing in the first place). But this is where the spoiler free section ends, anything past this point will contain heavy spoilers for the sake of in depth discussion. You have been warned.

When the Borderlands 3 reveal trailer came out back in March I was entirely skeptical that the game would be anything good. The story looked like a mess, the guns looked like complete shit, and overall it appeared that a lot of the things they were promising on were too good to be true or would end up simplified. Also, at the time I had just played through the entirety of the existing Borderlands series (excluding Tales From the Borderlands), so this new game was going to have to spike a certain chord with me. This definitely wasn’t helped by the “additions” that they tried to make to those games such as second game’s graphics enhancements, and the Borderlands 1 remaster. The former, while making the game look prettier, had the problem of cutting off cross platform play (across PC, Mac, Linux, etc.) which left a small crowd of people very disappointed. And the latter had the issue of being a complete load of garbage with many of the same bugs, new performance issues, clunkier menus, new menus not working, and of course Gearbox’s patented golden chest. They pulled a BL2 and just gave you OP guns at the beginning of the game as to make the beginning area more trivial than it already was. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they suited you out with 75 golden keys for connecting your shift account, meaning that you could destroy any sense of value the guns originally had.

There was also the new BL2 dlc that was meant to tie the game into BL3’s story. However I can safely say that after having played through BL3, this dlc’s campaign in no way whatsoever connects these two games together. I guess at best it explains how Sanctuary fell, but that in of itself has a lot of problems. You get attacked by some Dahl commander (who has never been brought up in the story before) where he infects Sanctuary, and by further extension Pandora, with this plant virus. Your job is to kill this guy and stop the plant virus. There is no motivation established for this guy besides that he wants to make Pandora into some paradise, and the story has absolutely no effect on BL3 at all. The crew was already set on going to outer space, this invasion only served to speed up this process. To further this claim, there is no mention of this dlc’s events in BL3 and Pandora is still the same sandy hell scape that it normally is.

Which finally brings us to Borderlands 3. A game that feels surprisingly devoid of passion and love despite how much effort went into it. A game that feels like there wasn’t enough time to flesh out ideas. A game owned by a company who sold out to Epic for money- let’s get a couple of things out of the way first. 1. Borderlands 3 isn’t an entirely bad game per se. 2. I have relatively no issue with the game being an Epic exclusive and my opinion is not biased or soured due to Randy Pitchford’s constant fuck ups.

However, that doesn’t mean that I don’t outright despise Gearbox and 2K for their actions. They take an exclusivity deal with Epic which actively disrupts consumer convenience and confidence in purchasing their product (not a big deal). But then they have the audacity to push this game out in the buggy, unpolished, and unoptimized state that its currently in (kind of a big deal). The menus are buggy on a basic, functional level, the performance tanks constantly, and items would quite literally disappear out of thin air from my inventory. All of these made Borderlands 3 just that much more of a painstaking experience to play through.

It was the unpolished game and the Borderlands’ trademark shitty introductory area that made me want to refund the game. And believe me, I tried to refund the game. Unfortunately I got denied my refund because I had accidentally played over 2 hours of the game, when the Epic client doesn’t even show your playtime. So ultimately I had no choice but to play this game in order to get my 60 dollars worth. In that time I learned that this game is exactly like the other Borderlands games. Right down to the pacing and the disappointing endings. The beginning of Borderlands 3 is a complete slog. You’re just slapped down on Pandora and have to suffer through Clap Trap’s “hilarious” writing and get formally introduced to the mechanics of a Borderlands game for the 4th time now. Gearbox has apparently never figured out that people really hate playing through the beginning of their games because it refuses to give the players a skip tutorial option or a way to just outright bypass the introduction. Now I will say that this introduction isn’t as bad as BL2 or The Presequel, but it's certainly nowhere near good either.

The problem with these introduction areas is that they aren’t engaging or really even play into the story in any meaningful way. In BL3, you arrive out of thin air on Pandora and are forcefully met up with Lilith and the Crimson Raiders so that you can prepare to take off into space. Between meeting up and going into space you’ll be doing menial tasks such as fixing Marcus’ shops, getting a basic vehicle, and doing some really boring boss fights. Your motive for killing these bosses is because Lilith is on the hunt for the vault map. That thing that they had in BL2, how did they lose it? Nevermind that because it’s just sitting with Mouthpiece, a painfully easy boss that expects no brain power out of you other than just avoid the giant speakers that go boom. Apparently it was in Vaughn’s possession before he was betrayed by his Sun Smasher clan in return for good boy points from the Calypsos. Why the Crimson Raiders thought it would be a good idea to leave the map with Vaughn beats me, but I can safely say that this theme of Vaughn being a complete fuck up is consistent throughout the entirety of BL3.

Vaughn at best feels like a comedic relief character, and at worst feels like padding. This character has no important role throughout the story, just plainly isn’t a funny character, and comes across as a complete waste of space. He could literally just disappear from the entire game and nothing would change. You (luckily) don’t even see him for most of the game because his ass is left back on Pandora to do…  something. I’ve heard that Vaughn is a far better character in Tales from the Borderlands, however as I haven’t played that game I cannot say for certain whether or not Gearbox really just dropped the ball on this one. Vaughn also isn’t the only character I have this opinion of, however as I am still discussing the game’s intro I feel that I should hold off until later.

So after you acquire the vault map and experience a “high stakes” encounter with the Calysos, Lilith loses her siren powers. I feel like this was supposed to be some big, “Oh shit,” moment but I have to express that I simply don’t care for Lilith’s character and people who are new to the Borderlands series won’t care either. Lilith is not necessarily a “good guy” in Borderlands. She has done some fucked up things that have drastically changed the overarching plotline and a lot of people’s perception of her both in the story and by players experiencing it. In The Pre-Sequel, she is framed as being the reason for Handsome Jack’s insanity as Lilith literally branded a vault symbol onto his face. In the epilogue of TPS she actively commands a firing squad to gun down Athena after she tells her story in its entirety, completely against the judgement of her colleagues. And she makes incredibly rash decisions in BL2 that causes detrimental results for the crimson raiders such as being captured by Handsome Jack after being explicitly told not to come to Angel’s prison that greatly changes the dynamic of the story. These are only a couple examples, and I could keep going, but the point is that I don’t value Lilith as an entirely productive or a beneficially proactive member of the Crimson Raiders. And new players who have never played Borderlands before literally won’t even know who Lilith is or why she is even important. Hence when Lilith loses her siren powers after a pretty pathetic fight with the Calypsos, I can really only roll my eyes and just go with it.

From here the story relatively picks up and becomes a bit more bearable (but not really), however I don’t want a couple thousand words of this review to be about the story. Overall it’s trash, and I’m going to try my best to summarize just why it’s trash. Firstly is that the Borderlands writers might be writing for way too many characters. Seriously you have: ProZ-oh I mean Flak, Amara, Zane, Moze, Vaughn, Lilith, Brick, Mordecai, Tiny Tina, Ellie, Tannis, Marcus, Zero, Rhys, Lorelei, Aurelia, Hammerlock, Typhon Deleon, The Calypsos, Katagawa, Bosses also have some writing with them, Ava, Rhys, holy shit I could just keep going. This isn’t to mention that the the only returning vault hunters from BL2 are Zero and Maya. And then factor in that the writers had to write up a ton of audio logs, some Typhon logs, Eridian logs, side quest dialogue for meaningless bosses, etc. and you have just this disaster of a story that churns everyone out to be really shallow characters. There aren’t any truly good characters in this game. Some of them are passable but that’s because they either aren't main characters or they have some somewhat funny writing and redeeming qualities.

Characters like Ava and Maya (and Vaughn) are completely devoid of any purpose within Borderlands outside of being fuel to the drama fire or just outright being an obnoxious brat. It’s pretty obvious that Ava is just a spoiled teenager who has no idea what she’s getting into, but even in the context of Borderlands her character doesn’t fit at all. For example, after the player kills the first vault monster (Rampager) and returns from the vault, you’re suited to a cutscene where Ava and Maya go pants on head retarded. Ava, a defenseless, tiny, teenager with no powers whatsoever, tries to tell Maya that, “We should be kicking [the Calypsos’] asses!” after the Calypso twins show up to absorb the powers of the vault monster. Mind you, this is after her and Maya debate about how Ava is a piece of shit that’ll get herself killed if she sneaks off to more vaults. Ava then has the audacity to tell the vampire sirens that eventually she’s going to be a siren and she’s going to, “Mop the floor with assholes like you.” These actions ultimately gets her put in her place, and Maya killed. Bottom line: She’s an obnoxious character that makes playing through the story of BL3 worse the more you’re exposed to her. And speaking of Maya, her character in Borderlands is completely useless. She introduces Ava, and then gets killed so that the players can go grrr at the big baddies. Her only significance to the story is that Maya is a siren so that the Calypso twins can steal her powers. Otherwise she is an absolutely useless character that now we’ll never get to see again without Gearbox pussying out on their own writing.

I’ll be completely honest here in saying that Typhon Deleon was the best written character in the game, and you hardly get to hear anything from him outside of backstory and the final couple hours of the game. If Typhon Deleon was a main star of BL3 I think the story would’ve went in a much more favorable direction. However I can’t discount the good writing moments within the story. Even though I absolutely hate Flak’s character even down to his voice, he does have some lines that made me chuckle. Rhys’ entire gag about Rhys ball had me laughing for that entire section, especially the line, “Suck on my big ball, Katagawa.” In fact I think most of the jokes that I laughed at were sexual jokes. I frankly don’t think a lot of these sexual jokes make the cut in a lot of games nowadays outside of obvious fanfare or really out there stuff like Grand Theft Auto 5. This was really unexpected and pulled off well in BL3 as weird as a compliment this is.

I also just want to express my disappointment for how the old vault hunters were treated in this writing: Axton, Gaige, Krieg, and Salvadore aren’t present in this game outside of some echo logs. It could be plausible that Axton and Gaige will come back for a future dlc, but I’m not holding my breath. We ultimately got Maya and Zero, and oh god these characters are bad. Maya dies only a couple hours after you meet her and Zero is comparable to a boomer dad trying to be hip with the kids. Maybe that’s the joke, in which case all I can say is, “Wow, they pulled it off really well and I’m not laughing.”

And finally, the Watcher. What the hell happened to this dude and why isn’t he in BL3? He appears at the end of TPS and is like, “You’re gonna need all of the vault hunters you can get,” however, not only do we have a very restricted roster of vault hunters, the Watcher is literally never mentioned again. Unless the Watcher is the Eridian that left all of the audio logs laying around, but what a disappointment.

I could keep going a good while if I wanted to, but that’s reserved for my videos. The next part of the game that should be brought up is the world design. Most of the world design is okay, I wish Pandora wasn’t just set in desert hell ala BL1, but other than that they seem to have enough content and discoverable areas to make them interesting to explore. My ultimate problem with the world building comes in when considering the planetary system in the game. Now this point can be entirely perceived as me just being an ass but when I think “planets” I expect a lot more than the world hubs in BL3. The planet’s levels are relatively small scale for being on, you know, a planet. And this isn’t just a problem with BL3, many other games that have incorporated planets like this, such as Destiny and Warframe, ultimately fail at capturing the scale of planets. A planet is often scaled down to a simple level within a video game, and it’s somewhat shameful to see a game boasting, “tens of planets to travel to” and then those planets have the same (and even less) scale as their previous title entries that were based on a singular world. Now I perfectly understand that this is a hard request to answer to, and having to build and construct one world is difficult on its own. Despite this, if a development/marketing team wants to promote their usage of a planetary system in their video game, it’s implied that the levels are going to be gigantic. It’s not at all impressive to see planets being used in BL3 because BL2 had the same, if not more, level variety and the same, if not more, amount of levels without the pseudo use of large scale.

This isn’t to say that the levels contained in the game are bad, just that I wish they weren’t pushed into a planetary system. Generally speaking, the levels aren’t bad. I hadn’t ever reached a part of the game where I thought, “Wow this level is trash,” or found levels that were broken. In fact, the gameplay and level design seem to be the real highlights of this game. Gameplay this time around has been modernized and sped up. Players are suited with a slide, ledge grabbing, barrel throwing, and melee slams. Sliding in of itself is important because of how non-committal it is as you can cancel a slide instantly by jumping. These additions ultimately make combat faster and more varied in how you approach the game. See Borderlands 1, 2, and TPS (while it tried) suffered from each fight encounter being basically the same shootout with basic cover systems. This time around, while you can still use the basic playstyle from the older games, you’re provided the methods to really make your gameplay interesting. Personally I never used the melee slam or the barrel throwing, and the new ledge grabbing system only serves to add verticality in map exploring from my experience. However I did use a lot of the slide, and given the right gun (especially shotguns) it became very satisfying to slide into an enemy and pop them into the air with a shotgun.

On this note, I feel like I have to express how much I disliked the feel of the guns. And clearly I am on the contrary opinion here because I have heard everyone on the planet say that, “Wow the gunplay is soooo good omg!!!” but I’ll be honest in saying that I didn’t see it here. Sure, the gunplay now feels more weighty and the new animations and stuff are nice to making the player character good gameplay feel. But the guns themselves, despite apparently having tons of funding behind making the guns sound good and being completely reworked, still have the chronic floaty-ness issues of the previous games. Some guns (primarily early game Hyperion SMGs, Maliwan guns, and some shotguns) just felt so awful to play with that I put them down and never touched them again. I’m not too sure what I was expected as I slid into an opponent and shot them in the face with my shotgun, only for them to fly away a couple feet and just get right back up only having lost about half or less of their health. Jakobs guns were consistently the best weapon, feel wise, despite me always wishing they had a bit more of a kick to them.

One of my major issues with the guns is that they are way too sci-fi and not enough like guns on wastelands and battle driven hell hole. Seriously for how terrible a place Pandora is, you don’t get weapons that reflect this attribute, Instead you get these futuristic Hyperion smgs that will project a shield out in front of you or a Torgue gun that will home into your target when thrown. This is a consistent theme throughout the game where guns won’t aesthetically match the environment. I could understand if you found futuristic guns on Promethea, or even that you find technologically advanced weaponry in the form of Hyperion leftovers on Pandora(given that they’re consistent with the styling of BL2). This would 1. Appease me, because I am the only person worth pleasing, and 2. Would allow the Gearbox developers to create more variety with their weapons so that the game actually feels like it’s hitting its promise of, “Billions of guns.”

Another issue I have is the sound design for these guns, which is probably the point I’ll get absolutely grilled for but: Using actual sampled gun sounds apparently does not work for video games. Seriously every time a game tries to improve the sound of its guns, the new sounds somehow turn out to be worse. This can easily be explained off as having a bias against change, but let's talk about it. Firstly, the guns are way too quiet in Borderlands. And they seem extra quiet in BL3, like worse than BL1 quiet. Maybe it’s a difference in subtlety, because let’s face it: It’s not like a microphone was stuck right next to an actual gun. In reality the sound designers probably had the microphone a good many feet away. This gives the gunshot more of a subtle popping sound rather than the huge blast that the person holding the gun actually experiences (hence why you wear earplugs when shooting guns in real life). But I’m going to put in my take on this matter: Guns need to have an impact in their noise. Now this doesn’t mean that guns sounds even need to be based on real guns or realistic in any shape or fashion. Borderlands is a game with a unique artstyle, so why can’t Borderlands have unique sound design?

It seems that every game nowadays wants the best sounding or most realistic guns to boot, however what happened to all that stylistic choice? Some of the best examples I can think of are Counter Strike’s western inspired whiff sounds for its older titles, Enter the Gungeon’s wide arrangement of different gun sounds, the cartoony gun shot effects for Wasted, and even Borderlands unique sound designs such as The Bane and the beam guns from TPS. These unique sound designs are missing for BL3’s guns and, despite Gearbox making an algorithm to suit one gun sound to thousands of guns, they all really sound the same. Not like you can’t tell the difference between what you’re shooting but in that all snipers sound like a generic sniper, all pistols sound like pistols. Of course you have to discount certain weapons like the Occultist that don’t even shoot the bullets respective of its weapon type. But the point is: this is a missed part of the game. I don’t necessarily like or dislike the realistic approach to the sound design of weaponry, but in a game that feels anything but realistic, the sounds aren’t doing it for me here.

But let’s reel it back to the game again, and get into the basic looting mechanics for this game. Upfront: It’s dumbed down, and takes little effort to get good gear. This is the part of the game where I fall out of my element (if I haven’t already), because I don’t really appreciate Borderlands for its RPG mechanics. It feels nice, and the act of finally getting something you grind out for hours if exhilarating (4 times magic missile), but it is far from how I prefer to play my games. Given this though, even I feel that legendaries drop way too often. Over my playthrough of just the main game content (I did 6 side quests on my first playthrough, and we’ll get to this) I collected tens of legendaries. When I was finished with the game I had 10 legendaries just sitting in my inventory that I was either actively using or keeping as a memorial item. This isn’t to mention that you literally get a chest at the end of the game that contain 4 legendaries in it. The loot dropping system is no longer satisfying at this point. And this isn’t just a matter of, “Oh they buffed the loot drops a little bit,” it’s a matter of the looting system becomes a complete joke when bosses can literally drop multiple legendaries without Mayhem, and will consistently drop multiple legendaries with Mayhem.

Assemble this with a forgiving leveling system, and now it’s just a dumbed down Borderlands experience. In previous Borderlands games, you couldn’t just do the main quest from start to finish. At some point you would eventually become underleveled, and paired with Borderlands’ trademark unforgiving and shitty rpg mechanics, meant that being 3 levels beneath an enemy granted you 10% damage reduction. This is no longer a worry, you can now play the main quests from start to finish with zero leveling hiccups. Or at least from my experience. Some reviews that I indulged in have said that they did have troubles with the leveling system, to which I rolled my eyes and had to immediately question what the hell they had done wrong. On normal mode I finished the campaign having only completed 6 side quests in total. One of these, to tie back to the looting system real quick, gave me a legendary elemental pistol that melted enemies for the next couple of zones. I also asked someone about their experience playing Borderlands 3 so far, only to learn that he had been doing every single quest that he was given and was massively overleveled come time for the first vault boss (he was level 21).

The bosses of Borderlands, this time around, were the best and the worst that the series has ever gotten. They’ve been massively revamped from the older system of AOE insta-kill moves to having actual attack patterns that you can skillfully avoid. To compensate for this, the bosses have been relatively tuned up to be more aggressive, throwing out more attacks. These new bosses range from very good to very, very bad. Some of my favorites were the Graveward, the Penn and Teller styled boss (Pain and Terror), and Troy Calypso. The bosses that I ultimately ended up hating were Katagawa, the Rampager, the Warden, and the Anointed. These bosses either suffered from boring attack patterns, bullet spongy-ness, or a lack of direction on what you’re supposed to be doing to beat the boss. Katagawa and the Warden fit into this last category. For Katagawa I was confused by him taking inconsistent damage (he loses a ton of health on shield break) and the Warden I couldn’t figure out whether or not I was allowed to kill him early. This is because the Warden is styled around the Goliath from BL2, so whenever he kills one of his teammates he gains all of his health back and then levels up. It turns out that you can kill this boss early, I just had garbage guns for this fight. So to answer your question, yes I did get the Warden to max level, and what pursued was a 20-something minute boss fight where you run the boss around in circles and turn around to deal damage when you can, and then he would kill a minion and level up. The only way I managed to kill him was that when he did eventually hit max level, he would stop focusing his minions when on low health.

The bosses that were truly good were the ones that kept the player busy, while not being too spongy or time consuming. It should be noted that the spongy factor of a boss can be easily biased by what type of weapons you enter a boss fight with. Some of the bosses I thought were easier may have actually been harder for you or another player, and vice versa. However, I will speak more of a general design philosophy and less of a, “This guy had too much health,” philosophy. I loved the Graveward (while admittedly being underwhelming for a vault monster) because of his unique battle area and clear attacks that would make his weak point exposed. Having the entire floor tilted to the side while you’re spamming jump to save your life was a fun mechanic to work with, especially when you factor in dodgeable acid balls. This was a simple boss fight that had a unique spin on an FPS boss. Terror and Pain I loved for stylistic reasons and the meta-humor around putting characters themed around Penn and Teller in a game made by a company with a CEO who is super into magic. This boss is comparable to Mouthpiece, but actually just a straight upgrade. The arena you fight Terror and Pain in is far more interesting, the boss itself looks cool, and while I have honestly forgotten the attacks that the boss had, it was still a fun encounter. One of the attacks I do remember though is the floor lighting up to indicate that fire was going to shoot up to incinerate you, and felt far more fitting than getting blasted by a speaker turned up too loud.

Something that I disliked across the board with these bosses, and this is a massive opinion piece, is that the bosses were too easy. Sometimes I honestly wished I was playing Borderlands: The Bullet Hell. I really wanted a boss that wasn’t just going to engage my attention, but make me feel like, “Holy shit, holy shit, oh my god, I am going to die.” Actually, the entire game was pretty damn easy. Although this can come down to a lot of reasons such as ally NPCs now being able to revive you, and the upped pacing of the game causing players to need to rely less on cover.

And I mean, it’s not like the game stays easy forever right? After you complete the campaign on normal mode you then unlock True Vault Hunter Mode (TVHM) and the brand new, super cool, “Badass-,” oh whoops I mean, “Guardian Ranks.” The end game is perhaps the most disappointing thing is this game for hardcore veterans of the Borderlands series. Firstly, that “reworked” end game comes in the form of the new badass ranking system, only this time you can’t disable it (This pieceo of information has become outdated with time, a future update has included the option to turn off these gaurdian perks and the passive bonuses). I mean, this time you get some rewards for using the guardian ranks? Meh. Otherwise the game still revolves around making you play it multiple times in order to get to the level cap. The only real reworked thing here is the new mayhem difficulties, annnnd they’re bad. So what the mayhem system is supposed to do is make the game more difficult while incentivizing you to play it by giving you consistently better loot rewards (more blues, purples, and legendaries). This system would otherwise be okay if not for just one problem: Mayhem 2 added no difficulty to the game, while Mayhem 3 felt typical to Borderlands end game difficulty (It should be noted that the Mayhem system has been revamped to include 10 Mayhem levels). Again, this may be because of my own personal experience with the game, see apparently Flak is outright broken when it comes to crits (Future updates have severely nerfed Flak). So this could be influencing my opinion greatly on this difficulty switch. But I’ll say that I had no reason not to play Mayhem 2, because for essentially no difficulty increase, the game started commonly dropping me blues, purples, and legendaries, while rarely spitting out a green.

At this point I had essentially had enough with the game, as my terrible, clunky inventory was constantly filling with valuables, and I had to make constant stops to dump stuff out of my inventory. Given this, the fact that Mayhem gave you a ludicrous amount of XP for very little difficulty on Mayhem 2, and a quick Google search about the raid bosses in the game, I’ve ultimately put the game down. I went from level 39 to 44 in the span of an hour, was being drowned in good loot, and the biggest sting of all: There are no raid bosses in the base game of Borderlands 3.

This is a massive review for a game that probably doesn’t deserve it. Borderlands 3 has a lot of ups and downs. It’s not a game that many people will enjoy for the story. Veteran players may have a distaste for the lack of an interesting end game. All in all, if you’re playing Borderlands 3, you’re probably playing it for the gunplay and the loot, which still, somewhat, hold up. I didn’t see how the game had a billion guns, but you know what, that’s alright. And after all of the controversy, and now that Gearbox is releasing patches, performance fixes, and balancing to the game, it’s not that bad of a game. The game just doesn’t strike me as the godlike triple A, return to Borderlands that many had hoped for. Overall, I would give the game a 6/10.

EDITOR'S NOTE: There used to be a video here demonstrating a supposed XP glitch that had occurred to me while playing through True Vault Hunter Mode while using Mayhem. It turns out that, at the time, this was an intentional mechanic for Mayhem to give you massive XP gains. To correct for this error, the video has been pulled from Youtube and this paragraph has been written, as well as all mentions of the XP glitch being pulled from this article.

-Count_

[themyskira]

Wonder Woman #45

Previously in hey, remember when Wonder Woman used to be the protagonist of this comic? Does anyone remember that?

Darkseid wants a powerful army, so he’s decided to enslave the Amazons. He built a Stargate capable of reaching Themyscira, and sent Grail through to conquer it single-handedly. The Amazons, being the incredible army that they are, are completely overwhelmed by this invasion of one, and Grail begins zapping them and turning them into parademons, because apparently that’s something she can do now?? And she never thought to use to turn Diana and Jason into her loyal minions, because reasons???

Diana can’t follow Grail because Robinson — either through not paying attention or not giving a shit — has rewritten canon, and now instead of Themyscira being near-impossible to find by design because it houses Ares’ prison, it’s governed by some weird arbitrary rules around not permitting anybody to return after they leave, except if their feet never touched the ground. This is purely an excuse to send Jason through in Diana’s stead.

So instead, Diana has mostly been punching Darkseid ineffectually while raging about how she hates him and wants to hurt him because he killed her daddy. By the end of this issue, she will have done precisely one thing to impact the plot in this entire arc, and it’s love her daddy so much that his ghost comes and beats up Darkseid for her.

The issue opens with parademonised Amazons pouring out of the portal from Themyscira, and Diana, Steve, Jason and the ARGUS goon squad struggling to fight them off.

Since the New 52 relaunch, the Amazons have — with the exception of Rucka’s year on the book — alternately been turned into beasts, killed people en masse, or been killed en masse. So of course Robinson managed to find a way to incorporate all three. This isn’t something unique to the New 52 — between 1986 and 2011, I don’t think there was a single extended run on Wondy that didn’t involve a mass slaughter of Amazons — but it doesn’t make it any less awful this time.

Robinson’s exposition goes into double-time, as the characters frantically remind each other/us what happened last issue, while simultaneously Steve’s narration boxes remind us what’s happened so far in this arc.

In amongst this, there’s a hilarious moment where an ARGUS soldier runs over to Steve with Diana’s sword, like it’s just found the Holy Grail.

“Colonel Trevor, I found it! Wonder Woman’s swor—!”

Wonder Woman’s sword not some magical super-weapon that’s going to turn the tide of the battle. It’s just a sword, same as the ones the Paramazondemons are using.

You know what is a magical super-item that could turn the tide of the battle? The goddamn Lasso of Truth. You know, unbreakable divine relic? Capable of cutting through illusion and mind control, even self-deception? You don’t think it would be worth trying that on your mind-controlled sisters before you start stabbing them?

But suddenly this perfectly ordinary sword is the most important thing in the world! When the ARGUS goon is impaled from behind and drops the sword, Jason swoops in to pick it up.

“Got it! Sword’s on its way, sister!”

After a brief time out for some more exposition, Jason tosses Diana the sword and flies through the portal (because his feet never touched the ground the first time he was there blah blah).

Jason’s powers still look idiotic, and Temofonte’s lettering choices are still irritating.

Steve [narration]: I have to admit… I’m starting to like Diana’s brother.

Good lord, why? Since when?!

A couple of hours ago, Steve disliked Jason on account of Jason being a reckless, glory-hounding, dangerously inexperienced, untrustworthy wanker.  He spent a lot of time listing all the reasons he didn’t trust him!  And all of those things still hold true. Maybe Jason’s taking this fight a little more seriously than previous ones, but he’s still substantially the same person that he was two hours earlier. Realistically, Steve should be less than thrilled that his people’s lives and the lives of the Amazons are in the hands of an untrained, undisciplined, ego-driven turncoat whose recent exploits include henching for Darkseid, trying to kill Diana and acquiring super-powered armour under suspiciously vague circumstances.

Now with that all-important sword in hand, Diana continues to be… pretty ineffectual against Darkseid.

Diana calls Darkseid insane. This is something she’s been doing at least once every issue, and each time she does, it grates on me. Part of it’s the excessively casual use of pejoratives — because even by the standards of the superhero genre, which historically hasn’t been great at handling mental illness and is quick to default to labels like ‘crazy’ and ‘mad’ and ‘insane’, Robinson’s Diana throws these words around a lot, and it’s deeply out of character.

But more than that, it makes no sense, because of all the characters in this godforsaken comic, Darkseid’s behaviour may be the least erratic. His agenda has been consistent from day one: he wants to regain his power so that he can retake Apokolips, and all of his actions have been effectively targeted to take him towards that goal. He’s cruel, ruthless, callous, vicious, dictatorial and arguably evil, but you couldn’t really call him “insane”.

It gets worse, because the reason Diana thinks Darkseid is mentally unstable is that — even having had it spelled out to her three issues ago by Grail under the compulsion of the Lasso — she still can’t figure out what his plan is. “I know you’re insane, Darkseid,” she says, “but this — transforming my sisters into parademons — this madness has no rhyme at all.”

At this stage, Diana knows

Darkseid wants an army — one that is both extremely powerful and unquestioningly loyal (per Grail),

With this objective in mind, Darkseid has gone to great lengths to open a portal to Themyscira, and

Now Grail has gone to Themyscira, where she is turning Amazons into extremely powerful and unquestioningly loyal parademons

…and she still can’t put the fucking pieces together. That’s how checked out of the plot Diana is: we’re ten pages from the end of the arc, and the villain is forced to explain to her what she should have twigged to sixty pages ago.

Jason enters Themyscira and sees Hippolyta fighting Grail. He rushes to her aid, but in a rare non-terrible writing decision from Robinson, his presence is entirely unnecessary: Hippolyta proves perfectly capable of taking down Grail without any help.

Cue the nauseating reunion.

Jason: Mother! It’s me. I… I’m your son! Hippolyta: Jason? Oh, my beautiful boy. It is you. To finally see your face—

Diana, meanwhile, continues to be completely ineffectual. Battered by Darkseid, she whimpers to Steve that she’s starting to think that she can’t win. Steve tells her that no matter what, he loves her, and Diana sits bolt upright.

“That’s it, Steve! LOVE! Hatred won’t win this — violence — but love just might!”

Look, I’m glad that Robinson has finally figured out that Diana’s greatest strength as a hero is the depth of her love and compassion, rather than a propensity for excessive violence — because, hey, better late than never — but this is straight out of left field.

And the annoying thing is, under other circumstances, this plot point — Diana besting Darkseid not through force, but through love — could be done well. Has been done, in fact, fifteen-odd years ago by Phil Jimenez.

Good comics interlude: During the ‘Our Worlds at War’ crossover, Diana has to team up with Darkseid to save the universe. With Raven’s help, she channels her faith and the faith of all her sisters into Darkseid in order to restore his power so that he can blah blah convoluted plot stuff. At the story’s end, Darkseid gloats that he is back at the height of his power, while Diana has lost almost everything — her mother has been killed, along with hundreds of other Amazons. Themyscira is no more. Diana even lost a piece of her very soul to Darkseid through the act of empowering him.

Diana smiles slowly.

“Surely you must be joking, Darkseid? Or don’t you know?

When Raven channelled our energies through you, she infected your dark spirit. She didn’t just give you my power, she used her empathic powers to fuse that part of my soul into your own. A part that I give freely, each and every day… and which you took gladly, without understanding the consequences.

There’s a piece of me inside you now, Darkseid. A piece that believes more than anything in joy and hope and peace. So ponder on that, New God — each and every time your feelings and actions are tainted by some undeniable longing for kindness… or the next time the Fates decide you should commit an unidentifiable act of compassion towards your minions and people in the name of some abstraction called ‘love’. Ponder that.”

SHE INFECTED HIM WITH HER SOUL SHE IS SUCH A FUCKING BOSS.

A year and a half later, Jimenez delivers an insight into just what this means for Darkseid. And while he’s much the same villain as before, there’s a stubborn splinter of pure compassion embedded deep within his soul. It torments and infuriates him. Every so often, it drives him to feel things, do things entirely alien to him — like show mercy to a slave.

Darkseid: Foul woman! What have you done to me? Diana: What’s wrong, Darkseid? Had moment or two of inexplicable compassion? I warned you. The portion of my soul you stole will corrupt you from the inside out. You’ll be kissing babies and freeing slaves before you know it. Darkseid: What do you want, Amazon? Diana: Just to remind you of your invitation, New God. It seems some of the Amazons are actually willing to forgive you for your hateful transgressions against them and would like to negotiate a more peaceful relationship with the Lord of Apokolips. You should come. Who knows? You might even learn a thing or two. Although it seems to me you’re learning plenty right now… Darkseid: [raging] AAAAAHHHHHHHH!

That’s how Diana owned Darkseid with the power of love last time.

And this is how Robinson’s Diana… enables Zeus’s ghost to own Darkseid on her behalf through the power of her love for her daddy:

Her boyfriend says ‘I love you’, and this gives her an idea. She walks up to Darkseid and informs him that she’s not going to fight, she’s just going to let him pummel her while she aggressively loves Zeus at him. This causes the ghosts of all the gods Darkseid devoured to to pour out of him. Zeus manages to stick around long enough to tell Diana that he’s proud of her, then fades away while Diana’s all ‘noooo daddeeeee come baaaack’. Then Darkseid appears to spontaneously combust, the end.

Steve points out that whatever happened to Darkseid has affected the portal as well — it’s now closing, with Jason and Grail still on the other side.

On Themyscira, the Amazons have just about contained their parademonised sisters, when they see that the portal is closing. Cue another nauseating scene of Hippolyta waxing emotional over how much she loves Jason and he’s the best son ever and, here, have this super-special magical god-weapon, why don’t you?

“Take this spear. Designed by Artemis, crafted by Hephaistos — enchanted and unbreakable.”

boo.

Steve and Diana wait anxiously by the Totally-Not-A-Stargate.

Steve: So what do you want me to do, Angel? I mean, you can’t go through, obviously… but I could.

What are you talking about, no you bloody couldn’t!

Robinson has been quite clear about the portal rules. They’re dumb rules, and they fly in the face of established canon, but they’re clear.

If you have ever been to Themyscira before, you cannot enter the portal.

You only register as having been to Themyscira if your feet touched the ground.

Steve has been to Themyscira. His feet touched the ground. You cannot go changing up the rules with only four pages to go.

But of course Jason gets back just in time, and Diana is unrealistically excited to see him, and it’s all, ‘I met my mummy and she loves me!’ ‘I met my daddy and he loves me!’ ‘Oh PS, we’ve got a bunch of parademon-Amazons in custody now. I guess maybe somebody should work on turning them back to normal?’

Grail wakes up chained in Ares’ prison. At a cursory glance, this seems like a reasonable solution: Grail is a prisoner, and no prison is more secure than the one Themyscira guards over.

But then, unlike Robinson, I thought about it for more than a second and what the hell this is a terrible idea. The whole point of Themyscira is to prevent anybody who might conspire to release Ares on the world from reaching his prison, and they’ve just locked a supervillain in with him and his evil sons. Unleashing War on the world is exactly the kind of thing Grail would do if it means securing her escape and furthering Darkseid’s plans.

It’s also a dick move on the Amazons’ part, because Grail is supposedly one of their own. She has a lot to atone for, and there would undoubtedly be Amazons who’d want to see her pay for her crimes, but I doubt it would escape the council’s notice that Grail has essentially been used and manipulated by trusted parental figures for her entire life. Her mother bore her, raised her and trained her to be a weapon whose only purpose was to destroy Darkseid. Her father turned her into his loyal minion. She has never been her own person, never had any family that didn’t see her as a means to an end. Surely the Amazons would ultimately see it as their responsibility not just to punish and contain her, but to rehabilitate her. That can’t happen if she’s locked away in a cave with only Ares for company.

Also, you know, she’s probably the best chance they have of curing their parademonised sisters, so… maybe do something about that as well?

Meanwhile, somewhere on Earth, Darkseid is wandering around, naked, human-ish, and amnesiac; the end.

[tayela-blackfyre]

An End

           He was gone… it was plain and simple. This was the problem. Tristan was taken, the castle was on full alert. The problem was not figuring out WHO took him, Tayela had figured it out already. Meera… the former slave girl, who was raised up by Tayela, the ever-loyal servant to Tayela, who had been taught everything by Tayela and the bitch would not live to see this to the end.

Tayela had figured it out, even before finding the note from Meera.

“Dearest Lady,

           Your son and heir is in my possession, he is being treated well and fairly… for a toddler’s standards. If you are looking for answers, then you will have to claim them along with your son. The place where we met. Come alone, I am watching.

           -Lady Meera”

If Meera had learned anything, and she had, Tayela would be outnumbered and likely wounded before anything would be done. Tayela made her way to her room, she dressed into her combat gear, taking out her swords; Mercy and Betrayal. It had been sometime since they were last used. Having her gear and weapons ready, she moved to her desk and sat for a long moment. When she decided on her words, she quickly wrote

“If I stayed long enough to speak to you, then something worse might occur. I cannot allow that. I go to retrieve Tristan. In my absence, you are named regent of Redcliffe and in the event of Tristan returning alone, you are named Tristan’s guardian, regent and protector until the time comes when he is of age. In the event of my return with Tristan, please arrange my death if I do not speak the word ‘Trueman’ to you immediately. Keep safe.

           -Your loving daughter, Tayela”

It was a day and a half before Tayela had reached the border of Westfall, she had ridden straight on from writing the note, without stopping to eat or sleep. It had never been one of her more favored areas due to its emptiness but Westfall had some appeal to those hoping to find others to help. Perhaps that had been why Tayela rescued Meera those years ago, took her under her wing and did as Tayela did. It did not matter anymore. Mounted on Serroco, Tayela had only a few thoughts, among them that nothing mattered if anything happened to Tristan. The Burning Legion did not matter, the politics of Stormwind did not matter, whatever damned religion the Light or Elune did not matter and Redcliffe did not matter. Her child mattered. Serroco seemed to know where they were headed, he also seemed to know of his mistress’ near exhaustion and slowed himself despite Tayela’s urging on. It allowed her to recover some, but not much in the way of sleep. Tayela dozed here and there, finally she saw the camp. She dismounted Serroco and took a few steps from him, Serroco whinnied softly and followed. Tayela gave a smile and patted his head, telling him to stay. From there she turned and strode, unsheathing Betrayal.

The sun was setting as Tayela walked into the camp of two tents. A small fire was going, three guards tended to it and watched Tayela approach. One of the guards had a crossbow aimed at her, one with a bow aimed and one carried a sword and shield. The one with the bow spoke “Lady Meera, she’s here.” A moment later, Meera exited a tent, holding Tristan. Meera smiled widely. “Hello Tayela, I’m glad you came and alone to boot, I really did not expect it.” Tayela stood silently, Betrayal in hand. Tristan seemed to notice his mother and made some happy noises, it made Tayela’s heart skip a beat. Meera rolled her eyes on noticing. Meera handed Tristan to the man with a sword and shield. “Take him back to Redcliffe, just tell them their Lady will be along shortly.” The man nodded and the archer placed the arrow back into the quiver. They mounted their horses and began to ride away with Tristan, Tayela’s eyes followed them but she did not turn her head from Meera. “Oh come, come. Do you expect me to shoot you in the back? I wouldn’t do that.” Meera chided as she snapped her fingers and the guard with a crossbow fired, bolt placing itself into Tayela’s abdomen. Falling to a knee, quickly placing a hand near the bolt, Tayela heard Meera’s laugh. “No, I would shoot you while you faced me.” There were footsteps approaching as Tayela held her eyes tightly closed, trying to block the pain. The footsteps stopped and Tayela opened her eyes to see Meera’s boots about a foot from her kneeling position. “See, no matter what happens here, a Lady Blackfyre will be returning to Redcliffe. If you somehow make it back from here, then Redcliffe gets you back BUT if you do not make it back, then Redcliffe gets me. If I had to say what your biggest mistake was… it’d be training someone to be you while you were away and glamours can do wonders.” Meera took a few steps back. “Now come on get up, its time.” Tayela saw her hand, covered in blood. She looked up to Meera’s familiar smirk. Tayela swallowed a time or two. “Come now Lady Blackfyre, put up an effort worth a song.” Meera mocked. Tayela pulled Betrayal in an upward slashing motion, causing much pain but forcing herself to her feet. Meera took steps back to avoid the slash, she snapped fingers again and the crossbowman began to reload. Meera drew a sword from a tent and began to engage Tayela.

Whether it was the adrenaline, anger, justice or some other driving force pushing her on, Tayela fought but she did feel herself draining away. This was now a battle of endurance in which Tayela had a horrible disadvantage. Tayela drew Mercy with her left hand, using both blades to try and gain an edge but was unable to use them as effectively as she usually did. Meera seemed to side-step or parry away almost any attack by Tayela. Meera knew she just had to wait until Tayela fell. That’s when Meera snapped her fingers again, another bolt went into Tayela’s body, this time into her back. She screamed, falling to her knees. Meera laughed happily again. “Come on now. You can do better than this. I warned you that _I_ would not shoot you in the back. I can’t say anything to the honor of that fellow though.” She laughed again, kicking Tayela in the ribs. “I wonder, how should I end your brat? Have him infected with something? Make it seem like a sickness?” It struck a nerve, Tayela used the rage given to her just then to rise to her feet, Betrayal lashing out. This time the sword found its mark on Meera’s face, a beautiful cut from left ear to the edge of the mouth. Meera cried out snapping rapidly, she resumed her attack. The crossbowman began to reload quickly, Tayela attempted to position herself in a way that Meera would block the crossbowman, when he finished reloading Tayela mustered up what she could. Tayela brought Betrayal up in a mighty swing and started down, Meera laughed and moved out of the way but a swing was not Tayela’s intention. Betrayal left her hand, Tayela screamed in pain as it did, the blade’s target was the crossbowman. It found him. The crossbowman flew back several feet from the force of the blade flying into him. Meera seemed genuinely surprised by Tayela’s action. Not missing a beat, Tayela swung Mercy at Meera, Meera parried it away and side-stepped, twisting around Tayela and driving her blade into Tayela’s back, the same place Warlund’s blade had gone through years ago. Mercy fell from Tayela’s hand as she dropped to the ground face first, breaking the bolt in her as she landed, mouth agape with a silent scream. Meera laughed happily. “Oh, it’s a wonder to kill.” Meera knelt beside Tayela and patted her head. “You certainly put a song’s effort into this.” Meera took a second then gripped the bolt in Tayela’s back and twisted it, resulting in a yelp from the fallen lady. Tayela gripped what she could in front of her and pulled herself forward. “Tsk tsk, you just don’t give up. Here I will help you with that.” Meera stood, picking up Mercy. She followed Tayela’s crawling with a smirk on her face. “I always thought ‘Mercy’ was a stupid name for a blade but now I suppose it is fitting.” To all Meera’s gloating she was falling victim to losing sight of Tayela’s goal: the crossbow. Meera stood over Tayela and flipped Tayela onto her back, breaking the bolt in Tayela’s back and making the wound worse. As she was turned, Tayela drew a dagger from the depths of her gear and quickly thrust it into Meera’s hand. Meera dropped Mercy in turn and clasped her hand, pulling the dagger out. Meera looked up and eyes went wide at seeing Tayela pointing the crossbow at her. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came from within, rather the sound of a crossbow firing was heard as the bolt went into Meera’s throat. Meera struggled for a few moments before nothing more.

Tayela used the last of her strength to prop herself up against one of tent posts, her hands held over her wound from the bolt in the front but nothing to stop the bolt or the sword wound on her back. She took in a deep breath the taste of copper apparent, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she was in a bed…

The bed seemed to be in her old room from her time with the Davington family. As if from nothing, the room was filled with people. The first and foremost was her mother, Leona. Leona sat by Tayela’s side in the bed and took her daughter’s hand. Tears filled Leona’s eyes but none dropped. “Hey honey… How are you doing?”  Something was off… Tayela used her free hand to try and push herself up slightly but a pale yet soft hand prevented her from moving. “Tayela, darling, you need your rest. Let us take care of you.” Minandra Davington winked with a smile, a hand running through Tayela’s hair. A wave of calm washed over Tayela and she gave a soft smile. “What happened?” Leona’s teary eyes looked towards Minandra, a look of worry and concern. Minandra casts a soft, cool emerald gaze over Tayela, seeming to not notice Leona's tears. "There were pirates," she says, her voice wispy and calm, "You were badly injured in the fight. I--- did all I could, but..." she takes her eyes from Tayela to look up to Leona and sighs before looking down again. "The important thing is you're with us, now, dear." Minandra gently strokes Tayela's cheek. However, the room itself seemed to turn around as Warlund, her father stepped out of a corner of the room. He seemed focused on Tayela but not at her. “Get out of bed. You’ve had enough rest. You are a Blackfyre through and through. They can’t take care of you, only you can. Get up.” He knelt at her bedside. “Get up and survive. It is what we… it is what YOU do.” Leona looked towards Warlund and seemed to be yelling but no sound came of it. Instead, soft footsteps were heard and a familiar red-head come into view, Latilda Rommel. “You can fight whatever it is, I’ve seen you take on insane mages, some pirates are nothing. You got this.” Latilda smiled with a knowing glance at Minandra. Tayela smiled but again, something felt off. From behind her to the right, an armored gauntlet touched Tayela’s shoulder but she did not jump. Tayela did not turn but she most certainly knew the voice of Oklin Ravenblud, her loyal soldier. “My Lady. It has been truly an honor serving you...now you go where I cannot follow. My service does not end, your soul is safe, your fire is bright even hinged in the darkness.” When his voice stopped something clicked in Tayela’s head… that was it. Tayela felt the need to blink, when she did, Latilda was gone, then Warlund, then Minandra and finally her mother. Tayela blinked again tears, flowing to her eyes. This time she was in her room at Redcliffe, alone. The room was dark but not pitch black. Tayela screamed, but no sound. She began to cry, the tears overwhelming her. She wiped her eyes.

She was back in Westfall, leaning up against the pole of a tent, facing the sunset. She looked at her hands and she knew. She was paler than Minandra had ever been but it wasn’t from skin complexion this time. She started to panic, she sputtered out nonsense in an attempt to make any noise. She forced her eyes closed, squeezed her hands tightly, begging whoever, whatever there was, anything to take her back to that room of the Davingtons, back to her friends and family; anything to have her see someone again. She earned that much, she fought her whole life for that much… Throughout her short remainder… the shaking and panic would not subside, as she faded the last thing she saw was the beauty of the sun’s setting color off the coast of Westfall.

[breeeliss]

[Miraculous Ladybug]: It’s All Hype!

i feel like i’m severely going to regret taking this much on but fuck it, YOLO, im dead inside :))))

in honor of Ladynoir July i’m going to desperately try and do one multi-chapter for every week of the month! so that means this first week i’m going to be using Days 1-7 to make a multi-chapter, and so on and so forth until the month is over. we........will see how that goes lol

but in the meantime enjoy the first story!

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[Day 2: Banter]

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

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Title: It’s All Hype! Pairings: Ladynoir (Ladybug x Chat Noir), Adrienette (Adrien x Marinette) Summary: Alya accidentally gets the Internet in a frenzy after announcing that Ladybug and Chat Noir are dating, but the two heroes are adamant about correcting the error and making sure the world knows that they’re just friends. So Alya proposes a staged public break up to set everything right.

In hindsight, she really underestimated how utterly freaking difficult that would be.

Day 1: Patience

“Ah, my lovely Lady, bless our good fortune that I may be able to accompany you home on such a cold Autumn’s night. Perchance the stars may be able to lead us back to your marble palace before dawn.”

Ladybug threw her head back and cackled. “You’re such an idiot, what are you even saying?”

Chat Noir scoffed. “Such a sharp tongue, my Lady. Whatever would your father say? Although, I suppose I could lock this secret away between the two of us should you permit me to seal it with a friendly kiss.”

Ladybug stuck her tongue out. “I’ll seal it with my foot up your nose if you’d like.”

“So not only does that sound impossible, but that sounds like a sinus infection waiting to happen,” he replied. “Do you know where your feet have been? I could catch a disease.”

“The depths of your dramatics are truly unfathomable,” Ladybug deadpanned.

“You know, my best friend tells me the same thing,” Chat Noir wondered. “I was thinking of getting involved in acting. I played a detective once. I was pretty good.”

“You should play a knight or something,” Ladybug suggested. “You know, really play up the whole needless chivalry and romantic waxing that you’re so good at. I mean, you’re getting practice for it right now.”

Chat Noir turned his head so that he could stare at Ladybug whose thighs he was holding as he carried her piggyback across the Parisian rooftops. “I’m helping you get home and you’re complaining? What do you want from me, woman?”

“It’s just a sprained ankle! I could’ve limped home just fine. Or just swung back home without putting pressure on it.”

“Nonsense, my Lady! ‘Tis my job as your valiant prince to return you safely to your kingdom should you fall ill!”

“Fine, you goof, whatever makes you feel better, I guess,” Ladybug smirked, hugging her arms tighter around his neck. “Although you should add valiant prince to your repertoire. Start making a list for when you go to auditions.”

“Ooooh, will you be my manager please?”

“Am I getting a wage?”

“Of course, you’ll receive my utmost respect, admiration, and loyalty.”

“I get that anyway, but I’ll accept your payment.”

They both just finished up with two weeks of brutal exams at school, and Chat Noir had practically begged for the two of them to spend a day together that weekend in celebration. It had been a while since she spent time with Chat Noir that didn’t involve patrolling the city or dealing with akumas, and she thought it would be fun to see if she could spend the whole day with him. They’d been walking around the city, getting coffee together downtown, and having footraces on the rooftops before Ladybug had slipped on a chimney and twisted her ankle. It was nothing that some ice and a day’s rest wouldn’t fix but Chat Noir practically had a conniption about it and insisted that he help her at least part of the way home. They were at least a mile away from the bakery and her foot was throbbing a little, so she decided to let it go. Besides, if she was being honest with herself, she really didn’t want to cut the day short sooner than they had to.

Ladybug pressed her cheek against Chat’s and smiled when he leaned into it. “We should do this more often,” she said. “Sometimes, we feel like coworkers.”

“Coworkers?” Chat Noir laughed.

“Yeah, you know! Those people who only see each other during working hours, maybe hang out during their lunch breaks a couple of days during the week, and then never see each other again until the next work day.”

Chat Noir squeezed Ladybug’s wrist. “I’m pretty sure that most coworkers don’t know how many freckles are on their other coworker’s cheeks.”

“You don’t know that either.”

“Do so! Forty-two. I counted that time we were trapped in an alley for an hour.”

“Oh yeah,” Ladybug grinned. “I think that was the time I realized you had little blue flecks in your eyes.”

“See? Not coworkers. Coworkers don’t have the patience required to learn about the people who work with them. You and I are different.”

“I guess that’s true,” Ladybug agreed. “If I have the patience to sit through all one hundred and fifteen of your puns, that must be something special.”

“A hundred and fifteen?”

“I too am a very good counter.”

Chat Noir gripped her tighter as he crouched down and made a wide jump over an alleyway before turning to the left to head down a busier avenue. “So basically what you’re telling me is that you’re giving me permission to remain in charge of scheduling our friendship dates.”

“I’ll give you permission so long as you don’t get carried away with them.”

“You have no faith in me, my Lady. I know better than to do anything outlandish.”

“Free next Saturday then?” Ladybug asked. She pointed ahead of her. “You can leave me four blocks down. It’ll leave me close enough to my house.”

“Roger that!” he replied. “And I’m extremely free next Saturday. Wanna meet at the Louvre and walk around the palace a bit? We can take pics.”

She giggled and pressed closer to him when a cold wind blew against them. “I’ll try to show up all fresh-faced for you.”

Chat Noir started slowing down as they got closer to the point where Ladybug asked him to drop her off, but she didn’t have the heart to point out that he was trying to prolong their time together. Instead, she let him take his time and carefully let her down onto the roof while she awkwardly leaned heavily on her other foot.

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok? You could stay on my back and I can keep my eyes closed while I take you home.”

“Then you’re going to get hurt too,” Ladybug teased. “Don’t worry, it really is only a few blocks away. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Alright,” Chat Noir smiled. “Make sure you ice it and wrap it up with something. And keep it elevated.”

“I will.” Ladybug cupped his caw and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for being so chivalrous and taking this poor little princess home.”

Chat Noir chuckled and placed a kiss on the backs of her knuckles. “It’s no trouble, you know that. But get some rest. If an akuma pops up tomorrow, I don’t know how well I’ll handle on my own.”

Ladybug twirled her hair. “Ah, what would you do without me?”

Chat Noir laughed and started backing up so that he could backtrack home. “Not much, you know that.” He jutted his thumb behind him. “Gotta get home, but I’ll see you later okay?”

Ladybug waved to him and stayed on the roof until Chat Noir was completely out of sight. She did her best to keep off her foot and swing on her yoyo as she looped around her neighborhood for a bit to make sure no one saw her sneak back home. She meandered for about five minutes before she landed on the roof of the bakery and slipped back into her bedroom.

Marinette detransformed when she landed on her bed and carefully climbed down from her loft so that she could grab her cellphone from her desk. She checked the four missed calls from Alya while she opened the latch to her room and asked her mom for some ice for the ankle, saying that she twisted coming down from her bed. If it was this late at night, she figured that whatever Alya was calling her about had to have been important so she called her back while she lifted her foot onto the desk to keep it elevated like Chat Noir had told her.

“ Marinette!!” Alya screamed on the second ring. “ Answer your damn phone!! ”

“I was downstairs doing something, geez,” Marinette frowned. “I’m here now. What’s up?”

“ Okay, don’t freak out, but do freak out, because you would not believe the pics that I took today while Chat Noir and Ladybug were out.”

Marinette rolled her eyes fondly. “Oh yeah, I heard about that. I saw them running around when I went for a walk today.”

“ It was ridiculously cool, I’ve never seen them just hang out all day like that. But that’s not even the best part .”

“Let me guess. It’s gonna get you a crap ton of followers and you’re going to be hailed as an investigative genius.”

“ Ugh, you know me so well girlie .”

Marinette laughed, but turned her head towards the latch when she heard her mother calling her down so that she could wrap an icepack to her ankle. “Hey, is it okay if you tell me about it tomorrow? I’ve gotta deal with something right now, but I’m all ears in the morning. I promise.”

“ Everything okay?”

Marinette winced. “I may….have possible twisted my ankle coming down the stairs to my bed?”

“ You’re a disaster,” Alya chuckled over the phone. “ Alright. Well, I’ll post the pics really late tonight so you’ll probably see them in the morning. But still call me, okay?”

“I will I promise. Night, Alya!”

Just as she expected, Marinette’s ankle was hardly anything at all and she woke up the next morning with her ankle feeling a little tender, but definitely well enough to walk on. Lucky for her. She wasn’t sure if her parents were going to let her live down the embarrassment of a self-inflicted injury that was the result of climbing down from a bed she’d been sleeping in for sixteen years.

She’d tried staying up the night before to wait for Alya’s blog to update, but knowing Alya she stayed up until three in the morning and didn’t update it until long after Marinette had fallen asleep. Marinette sat in front of her computer and pulled up her bookmarks, bracing herself for whatever silly photograph that Alya had decided to blow up today so that she could pretend to be excited about it when Alya called.

But the moment Marinette loaded the first page of the blog, she cursed loudly and yanked on her pigtails.

The first post — pinned to the top so that absolutely nobody would miss it — was a photoset of Chat Noir carrying Ladybug home last night, of Ladybug kissing Chat Noir on the cheek, and Chat Noir placing a kiss on the backs of her knuckles while the two of them had equally wide smiles on her face. Marinette didn’t really need to see the headline on the post to know what was going on, but it was kind of hard to miss ‘LADYNOIR CONFIRMED!!!!!’ in big block letters across the screen right underneath the pictures. She scrolled down to the short text that followed the pictures and sighed in frustration.

Hello my fellow Ladybloggers!

No your eyes are not deceiving you. Our patience has finally paid off and I can finally update you with some pretty monumental developments in the relationship between our two favorite superheroes. Now you can take a look at these pics and decide for yourselves, but if you ask me, that right up there is nothing short of L.O.V.E. Think these cute kids are dating? Maybe setting up for something more serious? Tell me in the comments and bask in the shipping feels! :D

XOXO Alya <3

“Alya, I’m going to kill you,” Marinette muttered. The comments were an absolute nightmare. Everyone was fixating on these photos that Alya must have grabbed on her camera phone when she was out last night. The theories were absolutely ridiculous. There were a couple of people gushing over their close friendship and partnership, and Marinette appreciated that at the very least. But the vast majority of commenters were all fixated on just one thing:

Ladybug and Chat Noir were very obviously in love and dating.

With a sick feeling in her stomach, Marinette checked Tumblr, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter and checked all of the Ladybug and Chat Noir tags. Sure enough, the photos were trending, and it had only been about nine hours since Alya had posted the photos. All the pictures were getting liked,  retweeted, reblogged, and shared on literally every social media website that Marinette could find, and she was convinced that if the whole city of Paris hadn’t seen these pictures, they were going to before Marinette even had a chance to finish breakfast. Freaking Alya. Marinette was two seconds away from showing up to her doorstep and throttling her.

Marinette waited until Tikki finished up her cookie breakfast before transforming and swinging out a couple of blocks away until she was sitting on top of a flower shop. She pulled out her compact and made a call to Chat Noir, hoping that his kwami would be able to tell that she was trying to get through to him even if he wasn’t transformed. Luckily, he answered on her third call, looking like he was out of breath and running while he was talking.

“ Please tell me you saw the Ladyblog this morning.”

“How could I not?” Ladybug frowned. “It’s all over freaking Twitter too. She only posted them last night how is this even possible?”

“ I mean, if I’m being honest, with the way that Alya girl and all of her followers talk about the two of us, I’m surprised it’s not on the damn news.”

Ladybug groaned. “God this is a mess. What are we going to do about this, people are never going to leave us alone about this.”

“ I have no idea but this is super not cool,” Chat Noir insisted. “ Where are you? Can we meet? I sort of want to put this fire out as soon as possible if that’s all the same to you .”

“Trust me, we’re totally on the same page,” Ladybug grumbled. “I’m pretty sure we stopped by her house last Christmas when we had to deal with that Santa Claus akuma. Do you remember the address?”

“ Pretty sure. It’s a Sunday, she’ll probably be home. Wanna stop by for a quick visit?”

“Sounds good to me. Loop around to the Notre Dame and I’ll meet you there.”

It didn’t take them very long to head on over to Alya’s house, all the while ignoring all the teenagers who were pointing to them from the street and yelling about how cute a couple they made. They both landed on Alya’s balcony and saw her sitting on the couch of her living room alone and updating her blog. Chat Noir reached forward and knocked insistently on the glass door until Alya looked up and smiled brightly at the two heroes. She practically threw her computer off her lap and scrambled to the doors to unlock them and come out to her balcony to meet them. “Holy shit!” she screamed out as she bounced outside, pulling a coat on along the way. “What are you guys doing here? Did you see the piece I did on you guys?”

“Yeah,” Ladybug muttered. “About that….we need to talk.”

Chat Noir scratched the back of his head. “You. uh….wouldn’t mind taking that down, would you? You see, this is all actually just a huge misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” Alya echoed. “Was that not the two of you being all kissy and touchy last night?”

“I-I mean it was!” Ladybug amended. “But it’s not like that, honest.”

“We’re not dating,” Chat Noir laughed nervously. “Seriously. That’s just how the two of us are, you know?”

Alya crossed her arms and smirked. “Ah, I get it. You’re just really close . Right. Gotcha.”

“Why are you saying it like it’s a lie?” Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t mean anything by it, I swear,” Alya laughed. “Forget I said anything. I mean, I’m happy to take things down but it kind of already went viral. I can’t really control anyone who puts up mirrors of it on other websites. I mean, Lord, have you seen Reddit lately? That’s all anyone’s talking about today.”

“It’s only been nine hours!” Ladybug exclaimed.

“You really underestimate how much this city ships you two,” Alya snorted.

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Perfect. Give it like two days and we’re going to be a meme.”

“We’re likely going to be a reaction image at best, my Lady,” Chat Noir assured her.

“Chat, you’re so not helping.”

Alya cleared her throat. “Hey, uh. You mind if I ask a question?”

“About what?” Chat Noir asked.

“Well, this isn’t the first time I’ve made theories about you two,” Alya pointed out. “Granted this one blew up like crazy and I totally didn’t see it coming, but Ladynoir has trended on the Ladyblog like four times in the past. I obviously don’t mean to make you guys uncomfortable, but I didn’t think this sort of thing would bother you.”

Ladybug big her lip and shared a gaze with Chat Noir. “Well….things might have….changed recently.”

“Changed?”

“It’s just that it’s particularly awkward this time around,” Chat Noir explained. “Trust us, we’re totally happy to let fans do their guessing and support us whatever way is appropriate. But this time it’s just toeing a really weird line for a couple of reasons.”

“Well, what’s the reason?” Alya asked. “If you want me to change the wording of the post I can try to do that.”

Ladybug rubbed her arm and sighed. “Well….the two of us are dating.”

Alya blinked a few times before her eyes widened. “Wait a minute you two are dating each other!?”

“No, no! Not each other!” Chat Noir amended quickly. “We’re both dating two different people is what we mean. She has a boyfriend and I have a girlfriend.”

Alya’s mouth formed into a small ‘o.’ “I….am seeing the issue.”

“Don’t get us wrong it’s not like our partners know who we are, but it’s still just really awkward for the two of us, that’s all,” Ladybug explained. “It’d put our minds at ease if you could just take them down and stay on the safe side.”

“Shit,” Alya sighed. “I’m so sorry. I mean, like I said, I have no problems taking the pictures down and correcting the post but it’s really too late for that. People already latched onto this and there are going to be rumors about all of this spreading around to other blogs no matter what I say.”

“I hate the Internet,” Chat Noir sighed.

“Well, is there anything else we can do? You’re the social media expert!”

Alya drummed her fingers against her pursed lips as she paced around the balcony. “Well, there’s one thing we could do. But it’s a little complicated and it’s going to take some effort from the two of you.”

“Well what is it?” Ladybug urged.

Alya shrugged. “Well, how else do you counter a celebrity hook up? Follow it up with a celebrity break up.”

Chat Noir shook his head. “Hold on a second, you want us to break up?”

“That’s right,” Alya grinned. “Well, a fake break up technically. Since apparently you two aren’t dating which, oh my God, I’m still really freaking out about that because are you sure? Like totally positive?”

Ladybug glared. “No, actually, some days I wake up and I conveniently forget my boyfriend. Tends to happen quite a bit.”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Alya amended. “Totally platonic, nothing going on, I screwed up and jumped to conclusions. I have learned my lesson.”

“I mean, that would work,” Chat Noir reasoned. “The fake break up, I mean. Might be a bit abrupt but hey! Let everyone else theorize about that.”

“Ugh, alright. I guess that’s our best option at the moment,” Ladybug said.

“It shouldn’t be too complicated,” Alya promised. “If I could get it on video and post it on the blog as solid proof, that’d be our best bet. All the rumors drop, you two are strictly friends and partners, and everything ends happily.”

Chat Noir raised his hand. “Uh, slight problem. Public break-ups are not one of my areas of expertise.”

“Oh don’t you two even sweat that part. Consider me your unofficial publicist,” Alya winked. “If it’s a fake break up you’re looking for I can orchestrate one no problem! Besides, consider this an apology for getting you two into this mess in the first place. I insist.”

Ladybug smiled. “I appreciate that. Although, if you don’t mind my asking, exactly what did you have in mind in terms of a break up?”

Alya clasped her hands under her chin and smiled innocently at the two of them. “Oh my darling heroes of Paris, I’m so glad you asked.”

[inappropriate-drill-usage]

eyes, build, other

Eyes

Her right iris is a dark hazel-ycolor. Overall, it’s pretty unremarkable.

Her left eye has been the bane ofher existence since 1927. It’s a lovely source of continuous medical problemsand good intentions that somehow manage to fall completely flat.

All of Bea’s head scars are fromsteam burns. During the accident, the sclera (the white) of her left eye wasessentially cooked. The eye was blinded, but the globe was intact. Left alone,it would have eventually become septic, so the doctor removed the eye, leavingthe lid and surrounding muscles intact. In the empty space, he inserted a glassorbital implant, to keep the socket from collapsing. The conjunctiva (a mucusmembrane) was sewn over the implant.

The result looked kind of likethis.

Unfortunately, the doctor waskind of a moron, and he ended up giving Bea an implant that was too small forher socket. And the wounds from the surgery got infected.

So Bea got to have anothersurgery where the socket was cleaned, and some infected muscle was removed.They dosed her up with sulfa, put the implant back in, and sewed her up.

The ill-fitting implant gave herfrequent headaches, and it actually took Roddy a few years to figure out whatwas wrong. Unfortunately, the only solution was to operate on Bea for the third time and give her anotherimplant. At least it resolved the headaches.

Anyway, after all that, her leftsocket is a mess of half-healed mucous membranes and scar tissue.

Bea does have a cosmetic prostheticeye, which is made of ceramic and has been painted to match the iris of herorganic eye. It’s very pretty, but doesn’t really help her appear any morenatural. The nerves that connected to her extraocular muscles (the muscles thatcontrolled blinking and eye movement) were badly damaged by the burn, so shecan’t blink or move the prosthesis. If she’s wearing it, her left eye willappear open and will stare straight ahead. If she’s not, her left eye willappear closed. It doesn’t help that the eyelash follicles on her left eyelidwere also burned away, adding to the overall asymmetry.

I like to think that Roy andRoddy considered giving her a bionic eye. Even if it didn’t help hercosmetically, it would give her depth perception and she wouldn’t go aroundmissing the cup when she pours coffee any more. Ultimately, the nerve damagewas too severe to pick up an electric signal. And I think she was prettyfucking done with eye surgery.

Build

Short and bulky, with plenty of both muscle and fat. She’sridiculously strong from running around a battlefield while carrying gear thatweighs about as much as she does. Unfortunately, all that muscle is pretty muchhidden by a good layer of pudge. She’s definitely overweight (by body fatpercentage; by bmi, she’s nearly obese.) And yes, she’s aware of it.Unfortunately, poor impulse control and reduced understanding of long-termconsequences make it hard to cut back on the sugar and alcohol.

Other

(Asker and I chattered and decidedto talk about her brain. After all, everything psychological is simultaneouslybiological.)

Disclaimer: I am not apsychologist. I am an engineering student who reads things on the internet. Ifthere are any glaring errors here, lemme know. Also: no fictional characterswere harmed during the making of this mental health report.

With that being said…

Bea is a psychopath, comorbid withsadistic personality disorder. Not a pyromaniac.* She was born this way. Scanher brain, and the differences are visible. She is literally lacking graymatter in her amygdala.

A lot has been written about evilaspects of sadism and psychopathy. What is less often mentioned is that thesedisorders also hurt the affected person (as opposed to just allowing theaffected person to hurt others.) Bea’s ability to guiltlessly inflict pain iswell documented, so I’d rather talk about some of the other ways in which hercondition affects her life.

Intense ability to feel pleasure; reduced ability to feel anguish. Thepleasures tend to be low sorts of pleasures: the high she might get from drugsor sex or the simulation of being in a noisy crowd or setting a raging fire.These things make her feel very, very good and the pursuit of that good feelingtends to be on the forefront on her mind. The opposite is also true. Bad thingsdon’t linger for her. She got hurt, oh, screw it. Her skin will heal, or she’llearn more money to make up for what she lost. Moving on, no lesson learned.This isn’t to say that Bea is immune to trauma, but she is resilient to it.

Along these same times: One of thefew ways for someone to control Bea’s behavior is to dangle a reward. If it’s somethingshe wants (like money) she will effortlessly play along it try and get it. Tryto punish her, and nothing about her behavior will change.

Poor impulse control. If Ilight a fire, it will make me feel good RIGHT NOW! This is how bases getburned down. ‘Nuff said.

A lack of direction and meaning. Bea has never planned furtherahead than the party on Friday night. Where she will go because she’s justflat-out bored.

The more abstract aspects of the meaning of life completely escapeher. What is the point of her existence? What philosophy guides her actions?Where she does she want to be in twenty years? She has no idea, and she’s quiteokay with that.

This also goes for monetaryplanning. Thankfully, a childhood of poverty made her habitually frugal, so shehas savings. Otherwise, she’d have zero financial cushion.

Inability to maintain relationships. Psychopaths may lack empathy,but they need social stimulation as much as everybody else. Bea has torched somany potential relationships (both platonic and romantic) that she’s frequentlylonely. Intellectually, she understands that dishing out cruelty and abuse willdrive people away. But without the emotional restraints of a conscience, it’sdifficult to change.

Susceptibility to addiction. Bea’s quite lucky is that she neverbecame physically dependent on anything. Especially since she’s dabbled in harddrugs once or twice. But that’s another story.

*By definition, people withpyromania have an uncontrollable impulse to set fires, which provides them withstress relief. Bea sets fires because she just flat-out enjoys flames anddestruction; it provides no relief of tension. Fire-setting is actually prettycommon for psychopaths and serial killers.

[artificialzeezee]

Satire Sexuality: Cocktails and resolutions.

Summary: Cis!girl bitney - University brings out things never expected within people. The truth, the lies, the worst of the best and everything in-between. There’s the pressure of first time independence along with finding yourself, and the dread of loneliness that needs to find time in your schedule. Drinking, smoking, sex and studying; life has to keep going. Couples meet, lovers clash and it all happens while becoming an adult, what could go wrong?

Happy New Year! Alix makes an appointment, Danny consoles his best friend, and everyone plays drinking games.

Warning: LGBT+ issues (such as homophobia, transphobia and the conflict of coming out), many sexual references, alcohol and drug mentions and violence. (not always relevant to each chapter but to be expected) - Mostly original characters minus girl!Bianca and girl!Courtney

[A lot of in depth conversation about transition, and an outsiders feelings that may come off as offensive but aren’t intended. It’s not really trigger worthy but better to put a warning than not!] 

[P.s. a pretty long chapter- as in 30 pages long. I didn’t want to split it up and have a two parter again so I just left it to be really long! Enjoy!<33]

PART FIFTEEN: “First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you.”

-

There wasn’t a chemical difference that festered in the air- burnt on bare skin to accompany the knowledge that it was a new year, people just knew and celebrated that the beginning was back. A freshness caught in the fruitful, buoyant space of their lungs. New years was a time for new starts and plans of action.

Bianca decided she wanted to be back in Wandsworth for New Years. Despite Kendra’s protests, Bianca insisted she’d already taken up too much space in her mother’s apartment and she just wanted to be alone. Truthfully, Bianca couldn’t bare watching Kendra so happy with her parents, not being able to experience the same thing. She couldn’t bare being around her best friend after her small break down, as the embarrassment weighed down like dark entities, and she needed to be away. Back in the flat, alone, pitying herself. 

“I feel good with you. Really good, and I woke up missing you.”

She hasn’t been able to forget her conversation with Courtney, and how stale it felt. The broken barriers between them, Bianca felt herself slowly and surely fixing them, in order to never let herself get so hurt by the blonde bombshell again. The whole train ride home, Bianca finds her chest lunging for someone that’s not there, and her hands ache to touch the curves she knows will bring her to tears. Her head pounds, never taking a break from the dawning thoughts that soon she’ll be reunited with Courtney, and she’s nervous about it. Terribly nervous, that every so often, if she pounders too long about it, she feels deathly nauseous and dizzy.

That’s why when she arrives back at the apartment, she wastes as little to no time there. She throws her suitcase in her room and calls Zara.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favourite yank.”

“You having a party tonight, Z?”

“What do you think? Of fucking course! I thought you were out of town though-”

“I need to get wasted, and I need to get laid. Are you going to help me achieve these goals?”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me. Get your ass here at 8 o’clock, and bring a bottle of something. Preferably vodka.”

She puts on all her best makeup. Slick wings, feathery fake lashes, and the cherry on top of the cake that has become a signature of Bianca’s, the luscious plump red lips. Desirable, exquisite, and she can’t wait to smother the colour across someone’s pink lips later, in a drunken wonderment of lust. She straightens her hair, long and luxurious, shimmering in the pink sun set, as it peaks through Bianca’s open window. She puts on waist high jeans with a small yellow smiley face stitched into the flare, and an orange flimsy shirt tied in the middle. Admiring her reflection, she notes the bumps of her body and sighs with dissatisfaction.

Courtney was beautiful - she could wear this same outfit, and be a beckon of allure, and Bianca is nothing but a lump of disinterest. Her chest isn’t supple and delicate for the low cut collar, her hips aren’t perfectly chiseled to hide the truth of her stretch marks, and her presence isn’t flawless, effortless sex appeal that “little miss perfect” could do without even breaking a sweat. Bianca envied her, for her slender frame, her baby face, and her precious, wide innocent eyes that made everyone fall at her feet like slaves.

Bianca didn’t like to admit it, but she was self conscious. Sometimes she liked how she looked, sometimes she didn’t care, but more than likely she found herself wishful for a reflection that didn’t make her skin crawl. Looking at herself, and seeing how her curves didn’t look womanly, but rather just made her look bloated and lumpy, she envied those around her. Courtney’s stick-like legs, Kendra’s keen jaw line, Zara’s extensive height giving her the appearance of a rake. Bianca was surrounded by slim women who barely lifted a finger to gain attraction. 

And Bianca just wasn’t one of them. 

She had a cup size bigger than her face, and she had a wide ass, and thighs that chaffed when she walked. She had a double chin looking down at her phone, and sometimes she stressed that sleeveless outfits made her arms look fat.  Looking at herself, her heart fluttered nervously, thinking people would laugh at her. She tugged her trousers up a little, tossed her long hair over her back and turned to her side to see her bum. 

“Least that aint so bad.” She chuckled. She shook her head, deciding despite her self confidence being dust under her high heels, she’d put on a brave face and go out in the outfit regardless. Her brother told her she looked “fish” when he bought it for her, and usually he was a better judge of fashion than she was. She grabbed her phone off the counter and her keys and rushed out her room.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she was startled at an unexpected figure drinking a beer while sat on the kitchen counter. Matt, in only his running shorts and his hair slicked back with sweat. She gasped, holding her chest as she regained her breath. He tittered, but as she approached closer, pouring herself a shot of tequila, his eyes began to wander over her body. 

“Wow, Del Rio. You’re looking fucking fit tonight.” He growled, practically drooling when she turned to face him and his eyes landed on her cleavage. Despite needing an ego boost, Bianca found herself more disgusted than flattered by Matt’s comment.

“You know how to charm a girl, don’t you, Matt?” She threw the tequila down and cringed, licking salt of her hand and then burying her teeth into a juicy lemon wedge. The sour stung her throat, contradictory as it soothed the burn trickling down to her stomach. She flailed her arms out and let out a brawled shout, then she turned to face Matt and his eyes were still a little too seductive for her liking. To think I ever fancied men, she thought to herself as he practically drooled over her chest. 

“Where are you off to then, Del Rio, dressed like that?” a guttural tone coloured his words dirty, and made her skin crawl. She poured out another shot, knowing she’d need to hurry up and get tipsy if she was to withstand a conversation with him.

“A party.”

“That’s all the information you’re giving me?”

“Don’t want you showing up and crashing it.”

“I would never. Although, an excuse to get drunk and get laid would be appreciated.”

Bianca wanted to throw up, thinking she’d said something scarily similar to his words. She threw back her third shot, twitching her head as the shiver took over her nerves and the sudden dreary lightness of drinking began to infect her blood. Enough shots, she dictated to herself, grabbing her vodka from her cupboard and pouring herself a vodka and cranberry drink: double.

“So, no address? C’mon, help a man out.”

“No fucking way. None of the girls there are gonna like you away.”

“Oh. They all rug munchers too?”

She cocked her jaw, as flashing images of punching him hard, blackening his eye delighted her anger. “That’s exactly why you’re not coming,” she chugged her drink as fast as possible, grabbing her vodka and walking to the front door, “Because you’re a cunt.”

She slammed the door behind her and resisted the urge to punch the wall. Matt was intolerable. She wished that when moving into a flat in England she could have ended up with three perfectly respectful roommates she’d adore, not two and an asshole they saw once in a blue moon. At least he was only there on the odd occasion, when he wasn’t busy blindly intoxicated or drugged up on too much weed and horse tranquillisers, or playing football with a group of guys as annoying as he was. They rarely had to endure his crude behaviour, and even then, Kendra was usually able to escape it. Trevor was always the butt of his jokes, and Bianca was the toy he liked to play with.

“Fucking dick.” she muttered to herself as she walked outside the complex and into the uber she’d ordered. 

Zara’s house was thriving with life, the walls practically colliding with each other as the music blared out remixes and dubstep. Bianca sheepishly walked in, clutching her vodka close to her hip. Zara and Harriet lived in a rather large house, decorated lavishly and usually kept rather clean. It was unexpected to see such pristine care for the home of two girls in their 20′s, and to live somewhere that seemed like a pipe dream to a struggling student like Bianca was inspiring. Currently, however, the house was littered with other guests in their 20s, grinding against each other and slurring messy terms of endearments toward one another. The yellowish creamy colours of their interior decorations had been transformed into dreamy waves as the sunset flushed the room and the dim lights gave everyone a lusting twinkle deep in their iris’. Bianca stepped through the crowds of people, attempting to find a familiar face.

In the kitchen she found Harriet talking to a cute blonde, with a bob hair cut and dark skin, and a body that Bianca tried not to stare at. She was going to slyly introduce herself into the conversation, but Harriet spotted her and squealed in delight, rushing over and wrapping her arms around Bianca. She squeezed tight, resembling an anaconda, and Bianca grunted as her bones practically popped.

“Bianca! You’re here, I’m so happy to see you!” Harriet swung as they embraced, laughing sweetly between each breath. She was especially adorable tonight, wearing a red plaid skirt high on her hips and an off the shoulders black tight top, accentuating the rigid lines of her collar bones and the small crack of her cleavage. Her hair was long and kinked down her back, shimmering dark in the little light that brightened the room. Harriet was the kind of girl with a picture perfect face - strong cheekbones, rotund pink lips, the sort of eyes that a person could spend years swimming in without ever finding an unruly wave. Bianca appreciated Harriet majorly, and if she didn’t know any better she’d have made a pass at her long before. 

“Hay, Harriet.” Bianca wriggled free, eyes flipping between her and the stranger. “Where uh, is Zara?”

“Oh, somewhere, who knows! Probably galavanting with some girl as per usual.” Harriet shrugged, reaching behind herself to pick up her drink. “Don’t worry, she’ll save you a dance. Oh my God she’d going to be so excited you came!”

“She will?”

“Well...whatever passes for excitement when it’s Zara.” She chuckles, turning to face her friend and then gasps. “Oh would you look at me, I’m so rude! Bianca, this is my friend, Ebele. We work together.”

Bianca smirked, nodding at the girl. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Ebele’s voice was silvery, dripping like gold acid down her purple lips, and Bianca found herself completely wrapped up in whatever this girl might have to say - the stories covered in luxurious rich jewels, oozing grace and importance, and edge. Her dark, mesmerising eyes, like the ageing colours of a grand opera house, sparkling too. She took the straw in her can of pimms and sucked it slowly, staring at Bianca the whole time, as a smile crept at the side of her mouth devilishly.

Courtney who? Bianca thought, trying even harder not to stare at the stunning girl giving her ‘fuck-me’ eyes. “So, got any cups, Harriet?” Bianca asked, holding her vodka up. Harriet jumped off to grab her a generic red cup - like the ones Bianca’s brother would buy for beer pong - and she poured herself a generous amount of vodka to mix. 

She stayed with Ebele and Harriet for a few more minutes, talking about their christmas’ and some guy at their work that keeps asking Harriet out, and then she excused herself. She decided to be the lone wolf in a gang of dogs in heat, watching closely: wisely. She put her foot against the wall and sipped on her drink, admiring the chaos of young adults pretending everything was fine, as long as they were too drunk to think about their problems. 

A girl dressed up casual, in baggy jeans and a checkered shirt, with a snapback on and her long black hair almost reaching her bum. She stood with two boys, laughing obnoxiously as they downed their beers, every so often nodding out of time to the music. The two boys, dressed similarly to her, laughing with half the energy and checking over their shoulders every few seconds to meet the eyes of other guests. In the corner are two girls, cuddling on the arm chair, completely electrified by the other person and under their spell that to even try and blink would be sinful. Both gorgeous, skinny and brunette, merely inches away from kissing one another. A few steps away from them are a group of guys, joshing around and making crude hand gestures as they looked over at the two girls. Bianca didn’t expect anything less from a group of guys. 

Standing alone, she was able to gather all the translucent thoughts scattering the web of her mind. Bianca didn’t like being left alone with her thoughts for too long, and had gotten into the habit off finding meaningless distractions as soon as her brain wandered out of the bonds of comfortability. 

Too much pressure to excel. 

Relying on drinking. 

Afraid of what awaits her in America.

Homophobia. 

Body image issues.

Courtney.

Homesick. 

Courtney.

Typical poor student.

Courtney.

Courtney Act.

Courtney fucking Act.

She couldn’t seem to shake herself off the damn, disastrous tease, despite being surrounded by dozens of drop dead gorgeous women. Her thoughts kept coming back to the thin legs, and the Australian accent, and the blonde hair- the God damn blonde hair, sweeping across Courtney’s face, caught in Bianca’s fingers, frail but shinning, caught in Courtney’s mouth, spread over her pillow-

That damn blonde hair. Bianca despised being under the spell of someone else. A control freak, just like her father, and just like her grandmother, and just like her brother. Bianca’s blood ran with the same desire to keep control no matter what should try disrupt the balance of her efforts. A damn blonde, kissing her when she’s drunk on depression, tearing out her heart, toying with it, crushing it, tapping it back together. Bianca was done being Courtney’s confusing phase.

Even if she wasn’t the first.

“Could you look anymore depressed if you tried?” Bianca’s head whipped round beside her, and there stood Zara, looking as enticing as fire. A red bra underneath a netted vest top and tight, torn black skinny jeans, accompanied by dock martins. Even with her heels, Zara still managed to tower over Bianca, resting her forearm on the wall above Bianca’s head. Her black hair like a clear winters night, and she smelled like apple cider and a friend’s bed; too familiar yet foreign enough to get lost in the comfort. 

She straightened up, wiping any trace of her moment from her face with a witty smirk. “I mean, I could give it a try.”

“You shouldn’t. You look better when you smile.”

Bianca softly laughs. “Sure.” She downs the rest of her drink and whistles, opening her eyes as wide as possible while the adrenaline washes down her body like a waterfall, and the crashing in her stomach rippled through her blood. 

That’s where it began. Bianca let go and was alone, drunk and vulnerable. She had more vodka, laughing with Zara as they cuddled together like old friends, and made pals with a couple of broad shouldered boys, doing shots as a group. She danced on a table, she acquired a denim jacket 3 sizes too big, and she stopped thinking about Courtney long enough to take a breath. No more choking, she was able to feel her lungs expand, because being drunk gave her something Courtney couldn’t: freedom.

The rush kept her heart pumping, and nothing else mattered. Bianca hadn’t let go in so long, the muscles that were bound together had finally loosened and her aches caramelised sweetly against the will of her bubbling ego. She liked getting drunk, she loved how it made her feel carefree and ambitious and confident, as if she could be anyone and do anything. Letting per pressure determine the friendships and decisions she made that night, Bianca became a version of herself she imaged she was at 16 - when she only knew the outlines of her big plan, and didn’t worry about her labels, and was invincible behind a crowd that protected her. Drink after drink, she began to forget the stress that had consumed her life. Who cares that she broke Vivianne’s heart? Who cares that Courtney was breaking her own? Who cares about anything! All that seemed to matter at that very moment in time, was Zara’s body against hers as they danced, with Ebele close by, and a couple dozen other girls giggling. All that mattered was the false sense of happiness that she found herself drunk on.

“I told you you were better when you smiled!” Zara admired, eyes fluttering suggestively as she took Bianca’s hand and spun her around playfully. Bianca scoffed, grabbing Zara by the hips and pulling her against her body.

“Baby, I can show you so much better than a stupid smile.”

Zara cackled, falling against Bianca and using her body for support. The lean girl, like a grand weeping willow, dead weight against Bianca’s intoxicated self - she was struggling to keep herself standing let alone someone else.

Zara was drop dead gorgeous. She was the kind of girl Bianca couldn’t even imagine touching in her wildest dreams, given she had all the qualities of a perfect galaxy wrapped up in the security of a beautiful young woman. Shimmering, breath taking, whimsical - she was that of a great natural attraction, or a natural disaster, rolled into one. She was cocky, but endearing, and careful. Bianca needed careful. Really, she needed someone like Zara, and if she listened to her gut feeling, she’d be going after Zara without consideration as to what her heart wanted. Both lesbians, both single, and both deeply attracted to the idea of lust.

She pushed Zara up to stand for herself, and stroked her thumb down her cheek, staring deeply into the dark brown crystal shine of her eyes. Her skin was taunt and smooth, the light feel of silky foundation pressed against Bianca’s skin, and Zara purred in response, watching Bianca with a fiendish admiration that seemed foreign to the other girl.

“What is it you want?” Zara whispered, the honeyed tone making Bianca’s stomach twinge. Her hands began to feel clammy as they were grabbed and her body slammed into Zara’s. Her breasts pushed up and the cleavage she usually hides available and at the prying eyes of Zara’s desires. She bites her lip, eyes hidden under her lids as she stares at the rotund flesh that is barely contained in Bianca’s shirt. 

Bianca is dry of any coherent thought. All she has are hot, wet wants, seeping through her pours, echoing in the space of her gut, fuelled by the alcohol she’s poured down her throat. Her hands are clinging to Zara’s back, eager to hold her closer, and the heat flowing between them feels like a thousand hands caressing her more sensitive parts, loving her, needing her. She lets out a husky snicker...

Then she blinks. 

Next thing she knows, through the blurred daze that’s swept her off her feet, Bianca ends up up the stairs with Zara. She ends up in her bedroom with the other girl on the mattress as she lays beside her, grinning. 

The dull thudding still coming through the floors as life continues downstairs. Bianca’s mind, is just broken webs, floating in the breeze. She closes her eyes for a second and lets the hollow air smooth her over. She was forgetting all the unimportant worries clogging her up.

“I really miss you, B.”

Bianca was forgetting Courtney’s accent.

“Do you miss me?”

Bianca was forgetting Courtney’s smile.

“I’m smiley, and you’re grumpy, and I feel like we work!”

Bianca was forgetting how she felt about Courtney.

“I’ve never met someone like you before, B-”

Bianca was forgetting how to feel calm.

“-and I’ve never felt so much love for someone so quickly”

Bianca was forgetting how to breath-

“SHIT!” She screamed, suddenly jolting up in a panicked state, grabbing her chest as paranoid thoughts of her heart hanging out of a crudely cut hole in her skin filled her mind. Cold anxiety flushed her body, and she began heaving a nausea lacing her throat. She gripped the sheets of the bed, trying to make sense of the sudden attack that had shocked her. 

Zara sat up softly, putting an arm around her and shushed her gently, kissing her cheek and down her neck, unbothered by the clean panic attack Bianca was battling. Her eyes wide with fear, focused on the spot on the chest of drawers ahead of her, and she tried to reason with the hectic hysteria as it coursed her body, uninvited and unexpected. Tender kisses pressed against her red hot skin, and hands now trapping her to the bed that she once felt so comfortable to lay in. What was happening, why was she so panicked all of a sudden? Why, for the first time being with a girl and the one time it really mattered, did she care so much?

“No, Zara-” Bianca pushed her off, her breathing still erratic but she was starting to gain control. The older girl watched her, confused and somewhat amused to Bianca’s annoyance. “I can’t do this.” Bianca says, probably a little more stentorian in tone than she expected. She pushes herself off the bed and balances herself on the chest of drawers opposite, gripping the wood, wondering how hard she’d have to claw her nails into the wood till it chipped. Zara stayed quiet, watching, a brow raised.

“I’m a fucking mess.” Bianca breathed, pushing back her hair that had fallen around her face. She turns to face Zara, looking distressed. “I’m sorry, Z. I want to, I really want to, but I-”

“Yeah I get it, yanky. You’re still hooked on little miss perfect, right?” Zara stands up and struts toward Bianca, with an expression that could only be explained within the pages of a sweaty, unfiltered erotica. Bianca gulps, lets the girl lean her body against her as she traps her between her slim frame and the wood, and Zara smells sweet and fresh that Bianca is soaring higher and higher through the thick clouds blocking the cluttered spaces of her thoughts. Zara’s face is but a few inches from hers, and her lips are soft and dark, contoured in the hot shades of the dim room. “But for a minute, why don’t you just be happy?” She persuades, pressing her lips against the edge of her jaw line, kissing delicately. “This isn’t serious, and no one needs to ever know about this. Let’s just,” Zara gently pushes Bianca down to lay on her back, and straddles her lap. Bianca’s hands instinctively hold her hips, and she bites her lip when Zara pulls her top off over her head, revealing the tiny, womanly figure and the lacy bra that is thin enough Zara’s nipples protrude the material. “Let’s just enjoy ourselves right now. Stop thinking about that straight girl, and focus on me.”

Bianca swallows down the anxious knot tied around her voice box and nods, trying to push back the messy dread that had swarmed her but moments ago. A sly grin snakes across Zara’s face, and she leans down, cups Bianca’s face and kisses her tenderly, letting out a satisfied sigh when Bianca’s lips press back. 

It’s something. Coated in desire and frustration, and better intentions for that of another, on both parties side. Bianca knows that Zara is trying to convince everyone else before herself that she’s happy being single, and Bianca somewhat wonders if by being the interest of her drunken lust that she will become a regular distraction, but it doesn’t matter in the moment. Bianca holds Zara’s slim body, kisses her chest, squeezes her ass, and eventually she’s lost in the serenity of sex. Hot and heavy sex that only two friends pretending could truly admire and perfect. 

Bianca moans, Zara chuckles, there’s a mixture of deliciously delirious noises that stick to the sheets like the sweat dripping of their bodies. The party down stairs stays lively, but the two girls forget that anyone else even exists in the world let alone under the same roof they share...

-

Alix was going to start taking testosterone. He was actually transitioning, 100% committed and running with the bull.

As soon as he came back from Christmas, he had an appointment booked on the 3rd of January with his GP in Wandsworth. He explained he was transgender and wanted to start his transition. She’d recommended Alix go to a Gender Identity Clinic about 40 minutes away by train in London to talk through his options and what he really wanted. Alix was certain he was ready to transition and knew what he wanted, but he went never the less. It seemed he had to go if he was ever going to become truly who he was.

The experience was serial. He stepped through the automatic doors into a creamy yellow scene of clean, and that’s where he was faced with people like himself. Transgender people, who wanted to take the next step. He walked into the building and waited for his appointment beside a woman with skull tattoos covering her arms and gorgeous red hair that sat at her lower back. Opposite him, a guy with a pencil beard and long lashes, and then a women that almost looked like Courtney but with dyed white hair, strutting past to look at the leaflets not far from where he was sat. It looked like a GP surgery, but it was different.

He was one of them too, one of the people that was different to the eye. Some of these people had transitioned, others were in the middle of transitioning. The people around him were just like him, but at different stages of his goal.

Finally, a woman comes out with a cherry blossom smile and calls Alix into an office that is a collection of calm colours of yellow, blue and pink. It’s not like his GP’s office with diagrams of the human body or important health alerts on the walls that always attract eyes to read, but rather it’s plain and official. More dull, but less intense to sit in. The women, Mrs McLaughlin, with her short black bob and thin glasses perched on the end of her nose. She sits at the desk across from where Alix assumes is where he sits, and she smiles as if she knows him.

“You’re lucky we had a cancelation, usually it can take weeks or months to get an appointment here.” She laughs, pulling out her notebook and a fluffy top blue pen that distracts Alix’s eyes. “So, name?”

“Alix Williamson.” He answers, and she writes it down, delicately, but then he notices- “Oh, no, with an i, not an e. A, L, I, X.” She nods, correcting her mistake.

“Don’t think I’ve ever come across that spelling before. Is that the name you were given at birth?”

Alix shakes his head. “No. No, my name was Jodie.”

“Ah I see. So how long have people been calling you Alix?”

“About 5 years, I think? I mean, some people called me Alix, and now everyone calls me Alix. Does that count?”

“If you had anyone refer to you by your preferred name, then yes, it counts.” She smiles and then crosses her arms on the desk. “So you’ve been living as a male for a number of years already. Why have you never come to a GIC before?”

“I was scared. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to be…you know.” He run a hand through his hair and chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, I’ve been Alix since I was like 14 and I’ve been going by he the same amount of time. When I first told my mam, she wasn’t so supportive and that put me off. I guess now I’m living on my own, I feel confident doing this.”

Mrs McLaughlin noted down something he couldn’t quite make out, before nonchalantly asking, “Do you bind? If so, how long?”

“Um…” 

“There’s no need to feel uncomfortable. I know these may be some very personal questions you’re not use to discussing but I promise you, everything is confidential. This is a safe place.” She smiles sincerely.

Alix was never usually aware of his binder on his body unless brought up. After so long it just felt normal to wear, not constricting like in the beginning. Suddenly he could feel the stretchy material rubbing against his skin. “Yeah, I’d say almost 4 years…but, almost everyday binding 2 years. Does that make sense?”

“Yes it does.” The sound of her pen scribbling again. “What about the hair? Lovely colour by the way.”

“Thank you. I only shaved it before I came to university in August. Even then, it was longer,” he waved his hand over the left of his face, “this side. My friend gave it a decent trim before Christmas.”

“And before that, you had long hair?”

“Yeah, to keep my mam happy. I had it tied back most of the time, or in a hat.” He smiled tossing his head as if the long strands were still there and would wave by. “I never liked having long hair anyway. It was always in the way and it was hot in the summer!”

She writes it all down as if her life depends on the end of her pen, and Alix watches her careful cursive as she makes no mistake. It’s a girls handwriting - pretty and delicate with every letter looking sharp, and then his eyes lift to her face. She’s a pointed woman, like if she was put in a room of balloons they would pop at just her gaze, and her bones peak beneath the frail colour of her skin, but she’s almost beautiful. Maybe for someone who likes thin, secure women, but not enough for Alix. Her ears are pixie like, and she wears small cheap gold earrings that Alix didn’t think anyone over the age of 17 would wear. McLaughlin - a pristine, persist woman of strict elegance.

“Tell me, Alix,” she sets her pen down on her notebook and looks at him with an adult smile, “What are you intentions with coming here? With transitioning, what is it you want?” She crosses her legs and places her hands on her pointy knee. “GIC has the aim of helping people who are transexual to start loving themselves, and start the road toward the life they want to live. What is it you want us to help you with?”

Initially, Alix thinks ‘I want a dick and a beard’ and then holds back his tongue from blurting out the crude answer. Truthfully, he does want those things. He wants rid of his feminine attributes so that he can look at himself without doubt and feel like the person he’s been trying to convince everyone else he is. He wonders why it’s even a question - doesn’t every trans person want the whole package?

“I…want to be a boy.” He replies, oh-so matter of factually, with a dumbfounded smile that she does’t take. Mrs McLaughlin raises a brow and hums, putting her elbow on the table and resting against her hand as if he’s supposed to carry on. Alix finds himself racking his brain for a logically answer- the answer she expects, before shrugging. “I mean, I’m here for the obvious, right? I want to be a guy, completely. I-I don’t want breasts, and I don’t want a girly face, and I don’t want anyone to mistake my gender. I want to be a boy, 100%.”

“So you want to transition completely?”

“Well…doesn’t everyone? Why would you come here if you didn’t want to transition?”

Mrs McLaughlin takes a deep breath. “Everyone’s different. Some people want to have top surgery but not bottom surgery, and some people aren’t initially comfortable with taking medication for whatever reason. We help people to understand exactly what they want with their transition. Some people are comfortable with their bodies but just need emotional guidance. You however,” her smile slides almost with a certain cockiness that puzzles Alix. “You know what you want, by the sounds of things. Medication, surgery and therapy.”

“Therapy? I don’t need-“

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s to help you cope as your body changes. You need to understand, Alix, that the influx of testosterone that will enter your body due to medication will have a massive effect on your emotions let alone your physical state. A lot of transgender men struggle with sudden and irrational anger that they’re not use to, and it’s not something that lasts forever but it may be very difficult to deal with in the beginning, especially if you’re under a lot of stress.”

Alix almost found the idea humorous - that he could possibly hold anymore anger in his body. He jolts one of his shoulders. “I’m fine though. I mean, if it gets me closer to what I want then fairs, I’ll do what I gotta do but uh...I’m all good up here.” He taps the side of his head and chuckles. 

She doesn’t laugh back. She hums, and scribbles something messily that Alix finds gives him a sense of dread. The dagger stuck in his back that holds him back from the whole process, dictated by the ink and paper. He holds a breath in his chest and prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that this was a mistake. Alix wants this, more than anything any one of his friends has ever wanted let alone himself. 

“I need to be Alix.” His statement comes out like a plead, and she lifts her eyes to see his worry, stopping in her tracks of writing. He licks his dry lips and takes a steady breath. “Since I was a little kid, I have always felt different to all the other kids in my class or on my street. All the girls would play dress up and they liked playing the mum at lunch time games, but I didn’t. I figured it was nothing, there were girls I knew that had action men and liked trucks, and my friend Danny even owned a tutu that he refused to take off for a week straight, but...he did take it off. They could all take off the unimportant kiddy games and turn off, and I couldn’t. I hated wearing dresses and having pigtails because I hated looking like my sister and every other girl I knew. I hated not being allowed to play rugby with the guys, and I hated how boys wouldn’t take me seriously about video games when I’d been playing them since I was 6 with my dad. I just want to finally be the person on the outside that I know I am on the inside. I want to prove to everyone that it wasn’t a phase. I didn’t grow out of some ‘tom boy stage all little girls go through’, because I’m a boy. I need to be Alix on the outside, because everyone assumes I’m Jodie, when all I have ever been, is Alix...nothing else.”

Mrs McLaughlin grins, and it steadies Alix’s frazzles heart. She scribbles something on her paper before pulling out a pamphlet from her desk, sliding it across the table for Alix to look at. “Well then, how about we plan your transition.”

Alix has never felt so happy before. This is it, the beginning of his life.

-

Courtney ox: Guess who’s bought you back wine? Australian Durif to be persist.

Danny xo: It better be you! Otherwise you’ll be very sorry to get my hopes up!

Courtney ox: Uh oh.

Danny xo: Get your butt in my room right now missy! Unless that “uh oh” was serious, cause in that case I want you to march to the nearest corner shop and buy wine, you tease!

There comes a knock at Danny’s door a few seconds later, and there stands a glowing Courtney, with the bottle of wine she had mentioned. She waves it in front of Danny, and he is hypnotised by the allure like a dog to a bone. He snatches the bottle from her hands then tugs her through, throwing her onto the bed and locking his dorm door. She giggles, pushing her hair out of her face and watching as he takes two red cups from the stack on his desk and pours more than plenty enough wine for them both. 

“Right then. Come on,” He offers her one of the cups and sits beside her on the bed, crossing his legs like a woman. “Tell me the gossip. What happened in Australia?”

Courtney sipped her drink. “What makes you think anything happened?” and before she can even make up a lie, Danny gives her a knowing smirk, his eyes glistening with the best intent but devils interest.

“Are you an honest to god naive bombshell, or do you just pretend to be an idiot at times?” He snickers, putting his cup on his side table and crossing his arms. “Bitchy Del Rio told Kendra, who told Trevor about what you got up to back home. You made out with a girl?”

What came over Courtney was a sudden mixture of all the worst - shock, anger, nausea, the intense desire to run frantically for nothing in particular. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t going to tell Danny everything that happened, but the fact that Bianca had told Trevor about it all hurt her. She confined in the other girl thinking she could trust her, unload the troubles of her mind with an honest secrecy between them. What had happened confused Courtney majorly, she needed to try detangle it, and she had hoped that Bianca would help her with that. Knowing now, that she had betrayed her trust and had told people about Courtney’s adventure, infuriated her. 

She swallows around the cluster of emotions building in her throat and cleanses it with the sweet smooth feeling of wine. After swallowing, she shrugs her shoulder and laughs. “It really wasn’t that big a deal. I made out with a girl and almost had a threesome. Replace girl with guy and that would have been one of your regular Saturday’s back in the day.”

Danny rolled his eyes, leaning on the bed and propping himself up with his elbow. “Considering how freaked out you were when it came to kissing Bianca, I’m shocked you made out with another girl so casually while you were home.” Danny arched his brow, trying to break through the shield she held up. “And the fact you told the person who is completely and utterly hung up on you-”

“Bianca isn’t-”

“I know you’re not that naive, Courtney.” Danny says, sternly. He takes another drink of his wine, watching as the worry lines settle on her forehead. Danny is fine to be Courtney’s shoulder to cry on, he’s taken that roll on with pride and dignity, as he always has with his friends. However, the frustration of watching her not only lie to herself but to him is something he’s never experienced before, and the wire of his patience is starting to fray. “Why are you so afraid to admit the truth? Especially to me of all people!”

“Maybe because you and your boyfriend have a pair of big mouths who can’t seem to keep a secret secret!”

“Don’t even drag Trevor into this, because you know I’ll defend him in a heartbeat. He’s had a hard christmas and he’s worried about one of his closest friends. Everyone else can see it except you.”

“There is nothing to see, Danny!”

“Courtney, I’m gay! Of all the people, why don’t you trust me with the truth? What am I going to say-”

“For God sake, maybe I don’t want to talk about it! Why are you so fucking persistent?” She slams her wine down on the table, standing up over him as he frowns at her. They’re both frowning at one another. “You all want to get involved when the truth is, none of you have the right! I’ve known you barely half a year, and Bianca’s roommates even less than that! You all think you can just tell me what I should be because you’re all so happy with yourselves and you’ve figured it out- well guess what? Not everyone has done that! I’m still figuring myself out! You’re gay, Trevor’s bi, Alix is transitioning...you all know!”

“Oh, so what, we all have it so easy?!”

“Not what I said! But at least you have a clue. You know where you’re all going and what to do if it gets tough. I don’t know what I am, where I’m going, or who will be there along the way!”

“That’s why you talk about it, instead of bottling it up-”

“I’m good at bottling it up. I’ve learnt how to perfect bottling it up, and I’ll stick to it. All you’ve done, Danny, is judge me! You judged Steven, you judge Bianca- you don’t have my best interest at heart, you’re just a damn gossip!”

Danny gasps, cocking his jaw and standing to square up to her, hover inches above where their heights differ. “You know what, Court? I’m done catering to your feelings.” He points his long index finger at her face, still scowling, and she starts to retreat in her anger. “You’re gay, Courtney! You, are, gay! And it’s not a scary thing! Everyone is gay these days, and most of your friends are gay, and you are smitten with a lesbian! Admit it, you’re gay!”

“I’m not gay-”

“No, admit it.”

‘Danny, you’re being-”

“Admit that you’re gay.”

“I’m starting to get so-”

“Just admit it!”

“FINE!” Courtney screams, making him cower back. Her whole body changes in a flash- shoulders tensed, fists clenched, her teeth gritted and eroding her pearly whites as she heaves on thick breaths. Her eyes hurt from how intense she glares at him. “I have liked girls, okay?! I like girls- I think women can be just as attractive as men and maybe, just maybe, I like Bianca! There, you fucking happy?!” She starts to well up, but tries to keep her raged demeanour. Danny stops being angry when he sees the water balling up in the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know for sure what I want, or who I like, but if you’re so desperate to break me down then here you go! I’m broken! I once dated a girl back in Australia and I kissed her when I went home, and you know why I called Bianca? Because I felt fucking guilty! Because I didn’t want to kiss anyone else or be with anyone else, and I didn’t want her to find out through anyone else, because all of you are so fucking nosey and spread shit like wildfire! So there, I told her because God damn it, I respect her and I really fucking LIKE HER!”

Courtney practically screams the last part, and the tears begin falling from her eyes, but she doesn’t retract her rage. She stands with the strength of 10 men, and the height of a giant, and she wills a hole to burn through Danny. There he stands, with sorrow in his eyes, and she wants him to leave her alone and plead her forgiveness at the same time. She hasn’t felt so angry in years, but it feels sweet to release all the pent up frustration- illusively delicious, like she could spend up all of her anxiety and cash out for the explosive rage every time things feel even a little bad. 

But as the quiet settles, and his eyes grow more with a pathetic pity, she suddenly feels the punch of her words hit her in the gut. Courtney said it out loud, the terrifying admission she’d been trying to squeeze down, now out in the open for all to bare and discuss like they had any right to. Danny, her best friend, now knew for sure...

“Danny, I-”

“I’m sorry, babe. I never should have pushed you to say anything.”

“No, I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have said all those horrible things to you. I didn’t...I just, all of this is so...I never meant you guys have it easy, of course I didn’t!”

“I know.” He gently puts his arms around her, pulling her into his chest and hugging her tight. As soon as she’s against his warm chest, hearing the soothing patter of his heartbeat, she releases the floodgates and sobs against his hold. Danny strokes her back, shushing her, trying to console her troubled mind. 

“Courtney, you are my best friend. I don’t care how long I’ve known you, I care so much about you. If you don’t want me to tell anyone, including Trevor, then I won’t.” He laces his fingers in the hair down her back, brushing it. Her cries begin to quiet and all she’s left with are soft sniffles and old tears. Danny hates that he made her explode so disastrously, but to some degree he’s relieved she had let it out now than later. “But listen,” he softly pushes her back, crouching down to meet her at eye level, “This isn’t a bad thing. You know she’s crazy about you to! Why don’t you just tell her?”

“No.” She bluntly responds, furrowing her brows. “No, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because...I don’t want to. I don’t know exactly what I want. I just...I don’t want to feel this confused.” She tugged at his denim shirt, tugging him closer to her again as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to deny anymore tears. Danny kept her close, resuming stroking her back and hoping there would be a resolution soon, to stop her sadness. 

“Coming out is hard, Courtney, but it’s not always as scary as people think. Your parents are accepting and obviously so are your friends! You just have to be brave and make the jump. Yes, me, Trevor and Alix are all out in whatever way that may be, but you think it’s all picking daisies and sunshine?” Danny let her go, tugging her down to sit back on the bed and wiping a tear from under her eye. His smile had returned to the usual goofy, loveable way it was. “God no! Alix’s sister still doesn’t accept him, Trevor’s whole family are unsupportive of him, and you think kids on my block just accepted me with open arms? The thing is, we just stick with those who do accept us. Why focus too long on the negative!” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and rested his hand on her cheek. She focused on him with divine interest. “You, my beautiful girl, have too big of a heart to feel so sad. Be yourself, Courtney. Please.”

Courtney dabbed the corners of her eyes, taking a calm breath, and let her eyes look anywhere other than Danny’s. She wasn’t ready- it was that simple. She knew Bianca’s track record when it came to girls and to be one of a long list would be too hard to handle. After so much time of denial, even when it was most obvious, it wasn’t worth it in her opinion to come out when she didn’t feel like it would be a definite thing. She wasn’t going to risk compromising the biggest secret she’d held so close to her, just to watch it shatter into a million pieces. For Courtney, if she couldn’t have being out and date Bianca as a duo deal, then she wouldn’t do it.

Danny’s face however, was so caring. To say no to him, would be difficult...not impossible though. She shook her head and forced a large grin to spread over her face, eyes brightening along with the chipper expression. She took her wine and downed the rest, leaning over and taking the bottle to refill her cup.

“I’m not ready yet, Danny. But, I’ll say it to you, and that’s enough for now.” She raised her cup in the air, biting her lip with glee and waiting. He chuckled, rolling his eyes but nevertheless holding his cup up to meet hers. “Here’s to being somewhat, maybe gay.”

“There aint no maybe with me, baby. But...I’ll take it, for now.” They clink cups and drink. 

-

A party at Johnson’s was the plan, and it was a night to ensure high spirits and drunken shenanigans. With more than enough supervision and organisation from Alix, the two had decided that since everyone was home from Christmas break they may as well wrangle everyone together and throw a small house party. 

Johnson lived in a small house with 3 other roommates, all girls, all in relationships with big, brutish footballers. There was Kayla, the half Mexican, half Italian Psychology student, who dated a boy that seemed to only have the same amount of brain cells one could count using their hands alone. She liked to be alone more often than not, but when she was around she was rather talkative and brought interesting conversation to the table, and Johnson didn’t mind when she came down in the morning in her booty shorts and crop top. Next there was Tilly, a petit, bubbly extrovert who was rather plump but adored every aspect about herself regardless what any drunk punters might tell her. She reminded them off a chubbier bubbles from Power Puff Girls. She dated a guy who was captain of the football, rugby and cricket team at his university, but was deeply ashamed to have a geek obsession with Doctor Who and the video game Dead Rising. Finally, there was Edana. She was the one Johnson got on with the most and more than often spent long nights going into the morning just talking to her. She had long red hair, all the way down to the small of her back, and freckles dusting over her nose as if they had infected her. A true celtic girl from her appearance down to the way she could hold a drink. She did language studies at the same university as Trevor and Kendra, along with her boyfriend, who played nothing but American baseball and talked about American food. Johnson wasn’t dying to date her, but he did envy that a half wit like her boyfriend ever landed someone as amazing as Edana.

It was a pleasant place to call home, especially since Alix was there more than half the time, eating Johnson’s food and making them watch Storage Hunters. He wouldn’t dare have it any other way though. He wouldn’t want to give up being in the company of his best friend for anything, because being with Alix was amazing. Johnson loved just being around him, he’d never been able to connect to someone so quickly before, and he truly felt like he could trust Alix with anything he worried about. The house felt too quiet and lonesome without him there. Even if they were both just sitting in silence, Johnson would still be grateful for merely being in his company.

As soon as Alix finishes at the clinic, he rushes home, showers, and runs to Johnson’s to set up and tell him all about it. 

“So, what will the hormones do?” Johnson asks after the extensive explanation Alix had given him about the appointment, mid way mixing a couple of drinks to make a punch. 

“Make me a man.”

“Okay, more specifically?”

“It does’t matter what they do specifically, as long as they do what they’re supposed to I’m happy!”

“Okay,” Johnson screws the lid on one of the drinks, thinking for a second, “Are they safe?”

“Yeah. I mean, you know, there’s risks and shit like with any medication, and I might have symptoms and stuff but it’s all good really.”

“Symptoms?”

Alix takes a vodka bottle and pours it into the bowl, watching the orange coloured liquid splash. “I don’t know, throwing up, headaches, mood swings- shit like that. Realx Jonny! It’s all fine in the long run.” He hands the bottle back to Johnson and smiles. “Aren’t you happy for me?”

Johnson was ecstatic for Alix if it meant him being happy finally. He was over the moon delighted at the idea of his best friend being comfortable with himself after too long wallowing in the depression of no identity, but he felt an odd sense of edge that made him nervous. He couldn’t put his finger on why exactly he was apprehensive toward Alix’s transition, but there was something small deep inside him that wanted to protest against it. Was it because it was so foreign to him? A whole new world he’d never experienced or researched before, being very real in the life of his friend. It was hard to understand, but Johnson tried to focus more on the part of him that was happy. The more important part that would keep Alix happy with his decision.

“Of course bud. If this is what you want, why wouldn’t I be happy?”

Alix clicks his fingers as he walks out the room, getting his cans of beer from his backpack to put in the fridge. “True that. I’m so happy. I just want to get on with it already, you know? Agh, I feel so genuinely happy now! The happiest I’ve been in months!”

Johnson watched as Alix beamed with dreamy wonderment and pride, practically bouncing as he walked, and it made his heart flutter ever so slightly. The infectious sunny exterior brightened his own mood, he wished this moment could last forever. As Alix put the beers in the fridge, Johnson started setting up a table for beer pong, but kept watching his friend closely, with intrigue. 

Alix wasn’t feminine, he made sure to cover up any trace there may be, but...was he going to be completely unrecognisable after a few months on testosterone? Was his personality going to shift? Was everything going to change with the passing months providing more confidence in his friend? He knew he shouldn’t care so much, because none of it really effected him, but the nagging thoughts popped up every so often to irritate him. Alix was going to become more himself while simultaneously straying from himself, and Johnson didn’t know what he’d do in a few months time. 

He had never hit it off with someone so quickly like he had with Alix, and the idea he may lose him terrified him. He knew that if Alix got on with his life, happily and comfortable, Johnson could learn to be happy, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t cautious. 

Alix won’t change, he told himself repeatedly. Alix will still be Alix, just with a new body and more confidence. Alix won’t change. He can’t change.

“Shall we do a tequila shot while we wait for people to show?” Alix asks, holding up shot glasses and smirking mischievously.

Johnson sighs, falling into a worn out smile. “Definitely.”

-

Bianca couldn’t go alone. She refused to see Courtney without back up close by.

Kendra was one thing- fiery, gorgeous, and the toughest girl she’d ever had the pleasure to befriend, but she wasn’t enough in this case. She needed someone that would make Courtney green with envy. She needs to be seen basking in the joy of new romance, freshly baked in red hot kisses and smelling of animalistic sex. It’s her personalised middle finger, sugar coated in pettiness. Courtney would see Bianca happily hooked on someone else, and she’d feel the same soul crushing sensation she had.

Zara, wearing skinny low rider jeans and a Nirvana crop top, her hair glossed and silky, flowing freely down her back, and her heated daggers pierced anyone who dared to set their sights on her flawless appearance. She was elegant and desirable like a tall glass of wine, and Bianca knew that being in her company would drive Courtney insane. Harriet on the other side of Zara, her curled hair in a high ponytail, bright pink lipstick and a skirt to match. She was like a babydoll dressed by a hooker, but she wore it with such refined confidence no one could touch her. Then of course there was Kendra, arm linked with Bianca’s as they strutted toward the house.

“It was nice of you to invite us along, Bianca!” Harriet said as they approached the door, knocking. She messed around with the rim of her boob-tube, her cleavage heavy and bouncing. “I hope I’m not over dressed.”

“Oh, you are, but you look fucking amazing, babe.” Zara reassured, putting her arm around Harriet’s shoulder and kissing her on the temple. Harriet’s face lit up as her dimples professed their glee, and she started playing with her ponytail in a fuss to look utterly perfect. 

“So,” Kendra nudged Bianca, “What’s your master plan then? Make out with Zara to get back at Courtney?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Bianca scoffed. “I’m going to make out with Zara because she’s fucking hot. And, if Courtney sees, it’s just a coincidence, you know?”

Kendra gave her a concerned look, crossing her arms, but Zara shrugged, laughing. “I’m honoured to be apart of this devious plan. Bianca’s a good kisser, so what’s wrong with indulging in a little fun in the name of...you know, making someone jealous?”

Bianca cackled, shoving Zara playfully. Before Kendra could interject her disapproval again, the door opened and there stood a pleasantly drunk Alix cheering, holding a plastic cup of presumably what was beer. His hair was an erratic tousled mess and he had panda eyes where he’d smudged his eyeliner, but there wasn’t a trace of care on his face. His face was glowing, and he grabbed Bianca’s hand and dragged her in.

“You cunt, where the fuck have y’all been?!” He laughed, turning to the other three girls and giving them all tight hugs as he squealed in delight. “Come on, go to the kitchen and do a shot, you need to catch up!”

They definitely did. When they entered the scene there was about a dozen 20 something year old students lounging around, laughing obnoxiously loud or dancing out of time with the music. Danny was currently smoking a joint with some black haired goth girl while Trevor lay beside him, stroking a ginger cat that must have belonged to one of the girls that lived there. A collection of preppy girls were gathered on the sofa, giggling along with something Johnson was saying, competing between one another for his attention. Bianca walked through a scene of students playing ring of fire to get to the kitchen, and poured out four shots. 

Each girl held a glass in the air, ready to do the shot in solidarity to one another. “Let’s get fucking wasted.” Bianca announced, to which they all cheered, clinking their tiny glasses and downing the fiery drink. They all cringed as a reaction, but laughed all the same. 

“I’m doing another.” Zara said, grabbing the tequila bottle and pouring herself another shot. She waved the glass at the other three, and to her surprise they all said yes. “Nice, I like girls that can drink hard.” 

It didn’t take long for the girls to start spilling tipsy stories over one another, giggling and drinking as fast as possible despite the gagging sensation tickling the back of their throat. Harriet was sat on the kitchen counter top, swinging her legs as she laughed uncontrollably at something Kendra said, and Zara and Bianca were leaning out the back door smoking, somehow deep in a serious conversation.

“Your folks kicked you out?” Bianca said in shock, mouth wide as the other girl nodded, smiling despite the statement. 

“I mean, they took me back a week later and apologised, but yeah. My father was islamic so for him it was too much to have a lesbian for a daughter, you know? He’d been taught that homosexuality was a sin, and his first instinct was to kick me out. My mum was just afraid of going up against him, but she came to her senses as did he, and the rest is history.”

“Still.” Bianca took a drag of her cigarette, holding in the fizzling burn that festered at the pit of her lungs, and blew the smoke out above her head before finishing her thought. “That’s gotta suck.”

“Yeah, well obviously! I went to live with Harriet though so it wasn’t all bad. Her mum was really cool.” Zara tapped her cigarette against her finger, putting it back to her mouth and inhaling. “What about you?” She asked, smoke pouring from her lips. “What are you horror stories with coming out?”

“Oh, not much.” Bianca smirked, throwing her burnt out fag on the floor and crossing her arms. “Mom and dad were kind of shocked but totally cool. My brother’s gay so he pretty much softened the blow for when I came out.”

“Lucky.”

“Yeah. My family were totally accepting. My friends, not so much.”

Zara raised her brow. “Oh?”

Bianca pondered on the memories for a second, looking into Zara’s dark, ebullient eyes, and saw a generosity of genuine curiosity she hadn’t found before. Someone who wanted to know, so they could care and relate. “Yeah, I don’t know why exa-”

“BIANCA!” A sudden girlish squeal shattered the bound they shared. She looked round to find the voice, and there was the person who made her heart seize in a fright. Courtney, smiling vivaciously as she skipped over and threw her open arms at Bianca. She squeezed her tight, still making childish excited noises while Bianca tried to keep her balance and composure having seen the one person she’d dreaded seeing. Zara caught Bianca’s panicked eyes and gave her an annoyed look before walking away and joining Harriet. “Oh my God, Bianca, I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m friends with Alix too.” She pulled out of the hug and stood back from Courtney, trying not to look too happy to see her. Courtney was positively ecstatic to see Bianca, unable to stop moving, and her smile stretched like elastic from cheek to cheek. 

Courtney felt bubbly, standing in front of Bianca after so long without seeing her. She’d missed the dimples, and her pillowy lips, and her curvy hips. She looked just as beautiful tonight as she always did, and maybe it was after her chat with Danny or it was the multiple jager bombs she’d done when walking into the house, but she felt delightfully light in her presence. She could reach forward and fly into the heavens with Bianca, hand in hand, heart to heart. 

“I really missed you, B.” Courtney admits, leaning against the door and unapologetically fluttering her heart eyes. “A lot. How was your Christmas?”

Could have been better given you called me up like a dick teasing cunt and told me some bullshit. How about we talk about the floozy you made out with that you had no shame in telling me all about, huh? 

Of course, she didn’t say any of that. Bianca gritted her teeth in protest to her thought, and shrugged. “It was okay. Yeah.” She looked over to Zara, seeing her smiling with Harriet, pushing her hair behind her ear and somehow always able to come across effortlessly free spirited, even in the most mundane moment. Bianca couldn’t help but look at her like she was a great piece of art work, needing only the upmost, focused attention, and she craved to feel the paint of her soul wet on her skin. It was a purely lustrous desire, clean of any romance or dedication, and dripping with sensuality. 

When she looked back at Courtney, she felt deep within her bones it was so much more than what she felt for Zara. She felt a pain that was as addictive as heroine, and tasted like gold, and she was completely, whole heartedly obsessed with the feeling that all she craved was relief. Courtney’s snowy face, her humble eyes, her pink lips- everything made Bianca quiver with such maddening need. It was going to kill her in the end, she knew it, like everyone else knew, but to pretend like she could stay away from her was comical.

Courtney was as present in Bianca as the oxygen in her lungs. 

“Did you have fun in Australia?” She asked, dreading the answer, regretting wasting her breath on the question. Courtney nodded enthusiastically, reaching into the fridge beside Bianca and taking out a cold cider. 

“It was pretty good,” She took the bottle cap of the counter, popping open the bottle. “I liked seeing all my friends, course they haven’t changed! My friends, Willam and Violet, decided to take me to a gay bar for New Years Eve that was like an hour away! We stayed at this totally run down motel and Violet threw up in the already disgusting pool they had, but it was so fun! I didn’t even realise I missed them so much until I saw them all, you know?”

Bianca couldn’t say she did, but nevertheless she nodded. Bianca didn’t have any friends she missed in America, or at least none she knew would be happy to see her if she went home. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

Courtney smiled, taking a sip of her cider before offering Bianca a swig. She accepted, drinking more than Courtney had but remembering not to be too cheeky with her generosity. When she handed the bottle back, Courtney accidentally caught her hand, and as her finger tips grazed the bumps of Bianca’s knuckles, a singing spark ignited between them. Blazing forrest fires mercifully devoted to destroying innocence, bravely caught between the skin on skin contact they held. Courtney’s eyes lifted in time to Bianca’s, and they looked at each other like this was the first time they’d ever met; completely struck on the beat of hope, but Bianca’s with less wishful thinking. Courtney’s gorgeous eyes, like an ocean, slowly killing Bianca the same slow, painful way drowning does. 

“Sorry.” Bianca pulled her hand away, playing with her hair and avoiding eye contact. This is too hard, she thought, suddenly overwhelmed with a sickly feeling. She wanted to be around Courtney, but she couldn’t. It was too fucking hard, seeing her all smiles and no remorse. “I have to go ask Zara something.”

“Oh.” Courtney was still all smiles, looking over at the girl in question. “Yeah, of course. I’ll catch you in a bit!”

Bianca didn’t waste another second pining over her. She practically fell at Zara in her haste, catching onto her arm as she regained her balance. Zara stumbled slightly, but laughed nevertheless as she helped the girl get back on her feet, and then laughed a little more at the deer caught in head lights expression Bianca held. 

“Woah there, Bambi.” She put her arm around Bianca’s waist, pulling her close and handing her a poured out drink of vodka coke. “Get this down you, fast!”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll need it. I saw how little miss perfect made your skin itch. A whole night of close calls will require a lot of liquid confidence.”

Bianca looked at the drink before downing it as fast as possible, cringing as her reflexes kicked in, and she was gagging over the strength. She scrunched her eyes as tight as possible till all she could see was stars, and everything in that moment felt infinite; the worst sickness in a single second stretching over the mirage of forever. 

Zara ran her hand up and down Bianca’s back, watching her as she cringed and collected her composure. She shakes away the shudder coming over her spine and hops from foot to foot, and Zara finds it ever so endearing. Cheeks flushed, eyes blank and shrunken, face full of new found wonderment.

“Okay, that was strong. Fuck, get me another.” Bianca demands, grinning mischievously, and Zara wastes no time in grabbing her another cup and drink. She was hoping, with a little persuasion and a lot seductive drunken dancing, she’d end up in the same situation with Bianca as she had a few days ago.

-

It wasn’t a raging house party, by any measure. Not the type that gets over thrown with rowdy teenagers and fights, but rather it’s a “gathering” in which everyone attending gets incredibly drunk in the company of good friends. There’s a few unfamiliar faces but no one outrageous, and everyone is in high spirits. 

Bianca, Kendra and Trevor take themselves upstairs to Johnson’s bedroom, as he gives Kendra a hoodie to warm up in and the other two coo over them, embracing each other dramatically and laughing as they slow dance together. Johnson and Kendra laugh along, a little more lost in each other than the mocking of their friends. Danny and Alix drag them back downstairs eventually to play a game. Everyone sits in a circle on the living room floor, and there’s an empty bottle in the middle of them all. As Bianca sits beside Zara, she’s bombarded by Courtney’s arms around her neck and then spinning to sit the other side, still wide eyed and delightfully sunny. Bianca, now significantly drunker and looser, smiled back warmly, biting her lip and batting Courtney’s ponytail playfully, making her giggle.

“Please tell me this isn’t spin the bottle.” Kendra laughs, watching as Alix sits down with his Absolute vodka and cranberry juice beside him, smirking devilishly at her. 

“Truth or dare, yeah. Don’t be a pussy about it, Kendra.”

She widened her eyes, cocking her jaw and laughing as he gave her a challenging look. “You’re on, Joker. I’ll do anything thrown my way.”

Alix snickered, grabbing the empty bottle and spinning it. “We’ll see about that.”

The glass bottle span, slightly tittering out of its spot, and soon the sound of the glass scrapping the floor came to a stop and the neck landed on Danny. He looked up at Alix and jerked his brows, clicking his tongue before cockily saying “Dare. Hit me with the worst you got.”

It started with Danny having to give someone a strip tease - “Not Trevor, that would be too easy!” - he chose Courtney, who squealed almost the whole time with her hands unsure where to stay, but Danny threw himself around without an ounce of shame. Next was Alix, in which he was dared to call someone randomly on his phone and talk dirty to them. Of course it had to end up being Sarah, the girl who was madly in love with him. Trevor is next and ops for Truth. 

“How far have you and Danny gone?”

He turns bright red and nervously answers “Uh, not very. We’ve made out, and, like, almost done stuff, but...” Danny pulls him in to his chest, kissing his temple and winking at Alix who had asked, consoling his embarrassed boyfriend. Then Kendra was dared to swap her clothes with someone, and taking the opportunity as it arose, she picked Johnson to strip off and reveal all before squeezing into her glittery purple sheet top and booty shorts. She sat in his torn skinny jeans and red flannel shirt, winking at him as he grinned devilishly toward her, letting her hair down and fall around her face.

Everyone was having a ball, laughing wildly and drinking way more than their livers could probably handle. Then the bottle landed on Courtney, and the girl Lavender, one of Johnson’s roommates friends, watched her as Courtney chewed over her two options. 

“Go on, I’ll do a dare.”

Courtney figured it would be nothing less than taking off her top and running around the neighborhood screaming, or downing a disgusting drink that would probably make her throw up. She didn’t care what it was, she was already flying away on the ride that was her ecstatic intoxicated high, awaiting her fait from the random girl she didn’t know.

“Um, okay. I dare you to...kiss, the most attractive person?”

Everyone laughed a little, looking between one another, but Courtney took the order like an instinct and every nerve ending in her body alighted as she turned to Bianca, holding the side of her face as she pressed her lips tenderly against the other girls. She could feel the tense knots in Bianca from just her lips, but she was too far gone. The world around them had gone quiet and all her senses had shut down other than the will to kiss and the need to feel it in return. 

Bianca was shocked, but she had missed this feeling like she was missing a lung. The fireworks in her head, or the melting of her veins, where every feeling became one and all she knew was to kiss. She took the back of Courtney’s head, wanting her to fall into her arms and beg for her, tell her how much she needed Bianca. Her thin lips felt so soft, and she wanted to memorise that feeling, store it away forever and never let it slip away, in fear that she’d never be granted the greatest feeling ever again. 

Courtney pulled away, staring into Bianca’s eyes. The blown up black of her chocolaty eyes, twinkling with shock, all Courtney had to do was whisper how she felt and Bianca would be putty in her hand. All she had to do was kiss her again and tell her everything she was hiding away, and there’d be no more heartache and fake smiles...

She laughed instead, falling against Bianca’s shoulder. She could feel the other girl’s body stiff with nerves, but she lay long enough to let the horror of the false pretence fall, so she could look at her again without feeling her chest hurt. Everyone started laughing around them, and soon all Bianca could do was laugh, if not to hide her real emotions but to save herself. 

Courtney pushed herself up, baring her pearly teeth at Bianca. “Of course you’re the most attractive person, B. Your sense of humour with that hair, how could anyone resist?”

Bianca nodded shyly, turning away as fast as possible to grab her drink and sipped it, facing Zara. There, the only face in the room not amused at all but more irritated if anything, glaring at Courtney before meeting Bianca’s eyes and letting her expression fade into something resembling pity. 

“Well,” Alix looked around before stumbling to his feet, “this feels like a perfect time for tequila shots.”

Everyone cheered and stood up, apart from Bianca. She found herself slowing down as time sped past, feeling like she could physically feel the seconds cut up her skin and infect her blood. She hated this feeling, the pining for a girl who either was ridiculously naive or playing the game of beating her heart to a pulp, because which ever result it was ended the same way. Bianca alone, frustrated, and overly emotional. She sat in the middle of the room, eyes glued to the spot of dust under the sofa, and threatened herself to keep it together, for the sake of her sanity and reputation.

Not now, Del Rio. You didn’t let Jinxy get to you, you didn’t let Vivianne break you, so you won’t let Courtney hurt you either. Keep it together. This is just life. Growing up, sweat the small stuff and move on. You’re going to get up, get a drink, and pretend you’re not-

“Bianca.” A soft call shook her out of her state, and Bianca’s head whipped round to face the delicate features of Harriet, smiling and holding a glass of clear liquid. “Here, I got you some water. You look kind of sick?”

“Oh, jeeze, I’m fine.” She staggered to her feet, leaning on Harriet for support. “That’s nice of you though.”

Harriet shrugged. “I just didn’t want you to throw up.” She clears her throat, looking around awkwardly before continuing. “You know, I don’t want to meddle, but I think Zara really likes you.”

Bianca’s throat went dry, eyes shooting open. “Really? I mean, that’s cool. She’s a cool chick.”

Harriet nibbled her bottom lip, looking behind herself to see Zara talking to Kendra and Trevor. “Yeah. But uh, I hope it’s okay to ask...but, you uh, you’re not into her, are you?”

“Well, I like her. I do, I...I really love her company-”

“But you’re in love with Courtney?”

Bianca stood still as the words shot her spine like lightening. The stutters of her mind seemed stuck on her tongue, tying her words around each other. “No, I don’t love her.” She ground down on her teeth, sighing as the pressure clung to her chest. “It’s complicated. But trust, me and her, are never going to happen.” She honestly believed it, despite how much it hurt to admit. 

“Yeah, sure, sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“No, Harriet. It’s fine. You’re just looking out for your friend.” Bianca rubs her arm affectionately, smiling thankfully. “I like Zara, I do. I wouldn’t want to hurt her, but I don’t think either of us are looking for anything serious.”

Harriet tilts her head, humming. “All I’ll say is I’ve never seen her put in this much effort for someone. Zara usually gets in, gets out. But you...” Harriet, shrugs, “it’s food for thought, is all. I’m sorry.”

Bianca nods, a little dizzy from the whiplash of emotions. “No, it’s okay.” Before she could say anymore, Zara bounces over with Kendra and Trevor, handing Bianca another drink and teasing Harriet for insinuating anyone needed water. 

Everyone resumes their normal mood, dancing and laughing like 20 something year olds are programmed to do, but Bianca doesn’t feel the same. She’s suddenly overwhelmed by all the scattered fragments that might make up coherent thoughts, and she can’t seem to focus her attention on anything other than what her heart is trying to convey to her mind.

She blinks rapidly, about to walk out the room for some space and maybe fresh air, when suddenly she’s spun back into the action and as if sent by God himself to further send her in a spiral of confusion, it’s Courtney. The blonde bombshell dancing seductively, innocently, just wanting Bianca’s attention and devotion in this drunken moment. Bianca is able to muster up a smile, swaying her hips to the beat and keep Courtney content for the moment that is killing her slowly. This girl, face pale and shimmering in the glow of no cares, with her lips still a little swollen from their kiss, unintentionally mocking Bianca’s feelings with her lack of understanding. 

Then Courtney turns around and presses her body close to Bianca’s, holding her hair over her shoulder and moving in time with the music and her lustful wonders. It was unexpected, and as dramatic as it was, it felt deadly to the intoxicated self that was Bianca’s unrequited soul.

Bianca watched with wide eyes, feeling the literal hearts form in her pupils as the girl of her hottest desires pushed against her front, bending down and wiggling her bum against Bianca. Courtney giggled, with flushed innocence as the music took her away, but Bianca’s blood rushed feverishly through her veins as she felt her body hit by a heat wave.

She wanted to grab her by the hips and dance to the rhythm of Courtney’s body, but it was too risky. She knew her instincts, she knew her feelings, and she knew how far she’d take it. This wasn’t just some random girl who’d had too much to drink- this was Courtney, naively playing a dangerous game that everyone was well aware off. Bianca shuffled backward, still dancing and laughing to keep a cool attitude, then when Courtney sprung up straight, throwing her hair back, she took the girls hand and laughed harder.

“You need water, bitch. You’re totally wasted!”

“Of course.” Courtney pulled Bianca in, holding her secure by the small of her back as her eyes fell to her lips. “Aren’t we all?”

Bianca never felt so sober in her life. Her heart racing like a cheetah as she tried to maintain herself. Courtney’s bubble eyes growing close to popping, Bianca seemed to always fall into the perpetual pining of her desires that Courtney seemed to toy with too much. Was she really so naive she had blocked out everything from before? Their first, wild kiss in the dark of the club, or the sensual touches in her bed, or every longing gaze they both pretended meant nothing? Here she was, with Courtney unintentionally ogling her cleavage, and despite what her pained needs craved, she wanted nothing more than to be out of the situation. She couldn’t keep dealing with her emotions flailing around like a rag doll.

Before anything further could happen, Kendra jumped in and linked her arm with Bianca’s, and Danny wrapped his arms around Courtney’s waist, separating the two girls. Courtney was none the wiser, twirling around Danny still giggling. Bianca however was confused, detangling from Kendra when they got to the kitchen.

“You need something?” She asked, a slight laugh in her tone as she stared at her quizzically. Kendra crossed her arms, shaking her head.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Del Rio, and you know it.”

“Hay, I wasn’t doing anything. She was all over me! I was trying to get away!” Kendra cocked her brow, unbelieving. Bianca scoffed. “I was!”

“Alright. What the hell is she doing then? Why is she all over you like a hot rash?”

“I haven’t a fucking clue. I mean, I guess we’re usually kind of flirty-”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

“But I don’t know, last time she was like this was when we were drunk. Maybe it’s a drinking thing.” Bianca shrugged, turning to the kitchen counter and pouring herself another drink. “This isn’t easy, you know, resisting that bitchy tease.”

“For someone so fond of her, you sure do like to pick insulting nicknames.”

Bianca smirked, sipping her drink. She looked out into the living room and there was Courtney, now with her arms around both Danny and Alix as she sang obnoxiously. Bianca huffed. “What am I supposed to do, Kendra? We’re friends, I like her, both as a friend and as more. I can’t ignore her.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Bianca.”

Bianca rolled her eyes, shoving Kendra playfully. “Don’t be such a fucking pussy. I’m fine. You know me, I’m like a cat, I always land on my feet and I’ve got like nine lives!”

“Yeah? Well you’re running out, Catwoman. Courtney’s going to break your heart if you’re not careful.” Kendra warned, giving Bianca a knowing look before walking out the room.

Bianca took a deep breath, before letting out a loud grunt of frustration, and slapped her forehead repeatedly. She wished Kendra wasn’t right, just once she wished she could laugh in her face and strut about victorious. 

This time, Bianca practically ran through the living room and up the stairs, letting out a relieved sigh when she found Johnson’s bedroom and the door was shut off from the rest of civilisation downstairs. She stood with her back pressed against the door for a few seconds, before falling to the man’s bed and letting her stress leave her body.

Recap: Bianca was undeniably, shamefully obsessed with Courtney and doing everything in her will power to forget the fact she wanted her so bad, while Courtney was denying there was ever anything between them all the while shamelessly teasing her like there was a chance. Then there was Zara, a totally sexy tattooist who was too cool for words and too punk to function, that for some unknown reason was really into Bianca, and they had hooked up drunkenly at a party that no one knew about. 

“Fuck.” Bianca cursed, her hands covering her face as the facts began to pour down upon her like lashing rain. She threw her arms either side her. They smacked the mattress harder than expected, the weight lost in the fog of too much alcohol, and Bianca was left with the heaviness in her wrists splitting open her veins.

She felt vulnerable, and for Bianca, that was the worst imaginable scenario. It had become all too familiar lately, and she was growing tired of welcoming it with open arms. She was fed up of thinking about how nice it felt to kiss Courtney. She was fed up of thinking about how her heart skipped a beat with every hello they exchanged. She was fed up of waiting around for the confused girl who was never going to give in to how she felt. Bianca had gone through those awkward years of being unsure, she didn’t want to add on more just for the sake of it.

So, what was it she wanted? On an obvious level, it was Courtney. There was no point ignoring the elephant of her thoughts, but that elephant’s gold was peeling off to reveal a snake. The other side had an open door with Zara holding the door, freeing and available, and that idea was somewhat of a comfort. 

Courtney had lied to her too. She had been with a girl- or, she had history with a girl, a stranger in Bianca’s world. When they met at Roobux, when all the complications began, Courtney had lied and told her she had no interest in women. Bianca had been tortured herself with the humiliation of falling for a straight girl, when maybe she hadn’t. Zara had never lied. Zara was a lesbian, and she’d taken care of Bianca when she needed her most; so why was it all so complicated even in theory?

The colours of Johnson’s room became blurred, with the lines intertwining and becoming merely another dull inevitable, closing Bianca’s lines of communication with peace and frustration. She was left in the silence, with just her heartbeat to comfort her, unsuccessfully. 

“H-hay Bianca?” A mousey voice crept through, breaking Bianca’s aura. She sat up and saw Courtney, timidly entering the room and staying stuck with her back to the door. Bianca resisted the urge to groan in annoyance.

“What’s up, blondie?”

Something had switched dramatically since a few minutes ago. The outrageous kid that was living in her prime, was now hunched in on herself, nervously avoiding any eye contact. Bianca quizzically watched how Courtney shyly sat on the edge of the bed, looking as if she might throw up.

“I need to say that I’m sorry.” She stopped, finally looking up to meet Bianca’s eyes and taking a deep breath. “I am so sorry for what I did over Christmas. Calling you and interrupting your good time.”

“What?” Bianca laughed. “It’s not a problem-”

“No, it is. I can’t avoid it. I won’t do that to you again, because last time it almost killed me to avoid you.” Courtney tucked her bottom lip in-between her teeth and took another deep breath, as if she was constantly on the verge of running dry. Bianca was suddenly struck with a gloomy ambience, feeling her heart be squeezed by the presence of Courtney, visibly distressed, because of her.

“I don’t understand where this is all coming from, Court. You were fine 5 minutes ago-”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m here now, telling you I’m sorry. I need you to know, Adore doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Bianca’s face fell, deadpan. She didn’t speak, she just sat silent, listening.

“She use to mean so much to me, yes. I still care about her deeply and I want to make up for all the shit I did to her some day, but...I don’t like her anymore, not like that...not romantically.” Courtney stuttered, sniffing back the tears that were slowly creeping though. Bianca moved her hand to rest on Courtney’s knee, but her face didn’t even twitch.

“Courtney...”

“I’ve probably fucked you off too many times, and you keep forgiving me for some unknown reason. I...I don’t mean to be such a disaster. But, the thing is Bianca. I...” She looked deep into Bianca’s eyes, and everything she wanted to say suddenly dissolved; she was drunk on the diluted colours of Bianca’s dark glimmering eye. Bianca stared back just as hard, awaiting the words she knew would never come. She held onto the speck of hope like it would revive her after death, and took the life from Courtney’s open mouth. What was happening? Why was Courtney saying any of this? The two sat in the quiet, gazing upon the lost ambition of what they both kept hidden from the light of day.

Courtney swallowed, a tear finally falling down her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you or ruin your Christmas or-”

“Hay,” Bianca finally smiled warmly, holding Courtney’s cheeks and brushing away the rogue tear. “Please don’t apologise for that. It wasn’t a problem, really. You were probably still a little drunk and just, telling your friend the shit that went down. We’ve all been there.” She lied, hoping her smile was convincing enough to denying that hearing about Courtney kiss another girl didn’t break her heart a little. “You’re such a messy drunk, blondie. Look at you,” Bianca sat back, chucking, “how many times have I had to console you after a few too many drinks, huh?”

Courtney sniffed, snickering lightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no more tears, for fuck sake. No more sorry’s either, okay? You’re just being emotional because your drunk. I’m not mad at you for anything.”

Courtney sighed, knowing Bianca was lying, but nodded nevertheless. She wasn’t going to win this, and she was fine with it. As long as Bianca knew she meant no harm. “You mean so much to me, you know that?” Courtney told her, as the corner of her lip finally lifted. “If I ever piss you off, just tell me, okay?”

Bianca knew she couldn’t keep that promise. She knew that this charade was going to continue for a long time, despite what they both wanted: peace. How was she supposed to tell Courtney she was annoyed at her for kissing another girl when they were both so adamant on pretending everything was completely fine between them? She couldn’t muster up the strength to tear her apart, tell her how much it pained her not to kiss her, because to go through the days without Courtney was a life she didn’t want. She wanted to feel the agonising twisting in her gut if it meant she got to just talk to Courtney. She was caught in a catch 22, but sometimes that’s just life.

Bianca had been through the waves of distress, she could do it again.

“Of course. Come here.” She took Courtney in for a hug and all the agony sprang to life in a single second, taking every nerve in her body like a prisoner. She held on Courtney with everything she had, remembering the smell of her perfume, the feel of her skin, hoping it would all sink into her bones and she’d have her apart of her forever. Courtney is so soft, Bianca thought, burying her face in her shoulder and letting the moment overwhelm her own drunken emotions. 

Courtney wanted to tell Bianca everything, but she couldn’t. All she could do was hold her, and hope the fire would die out soon.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry.”

“Okay...sorry.”

Bianca laughed. That’s all she could do anymore, otherwise she might go insane. Keep laughing and the world keeps turning.

[sp00kworm]

Resurgence (Castlevania:LoS fanfiction) Chapter One

Summary:  The infected and followers of Satan have all been extinguished. Monsters are a rarity and the world seems to teeter on the thin line of peace. The world has rebuilt itself after the night of chaos and death, and life has returned to some sort of normality with people having long since returned to work and running through the daily routine of life. The Prince of Darkness, however, has been cooped up in his Castle, slowly falling between the lines of reality and memory as he looses his grip on his own mind. What will the finding of a chest amongst the rubble do for his sanity? Perhaps a revelation is what he needs in order to regain his grip on the reality of the world.

A03 Link

Chapter Two   Chapter Three   Chapter Four   Chapter 5

A Relic Amidst the Ruins

Long after Dracula's final fight against his old nemesis Satan, he'd found himself a little without purpose. Eliminating the demons and infected still on the earth had consumed his time for many, many months after Satan's demise. But, eventually the monsters had stopped crawling from their holes, and had stopped appearing all together. Alucard often reported that there were no monsters left to hunt. Those that had caused issue to begin with were all but gone, destroyed and in ashes. Those that could've posed a threat about a millennia ago were scattered. Activity was lacking, to say the least, and Dracula found himself increasing spending time wandering the Castle or reading books in his library. He found his muscles slowly becoming more and more lethargic as he spent night after night cooped up indoors, fairly alone, haunted by the voices of his past. Time and time again he had seen Marie saunter around the halls, her white dress spinning as she did, laughing and smiling as Gabriel followed, a smile curling his usual frown upwards. She would laugh and laugh until he caught her hand and pulled her towards him. Marie would turn in his arms, her laughter like the chime of a bell, and smile forlornly before kissing the corner of his lips, and disappearing, leaving him to hug naught but the air where she once was.

The walls groaned around him as he strolled and reminisced about his old life. The life when he was blissfully unaware of his fate and the betrayal that contorted and plotted all around him. He'd been an acquaintance of Zobek then, unaware of his deigns and true nature. He'd been unaware of everything going on around him, how the world stormed ahead without his say so. He'd been dragged into his destiny, his fate, and never once had he attempted to fight it. He was a warrior, no, the Warrior of Light, good and true, but his God had made him into a Prince of Darkness. A fallen one, destined to walk in shadows and feast off blood with power unrivalled, now by no one. His fate was cruel, but it was what he was destined to become. A destiny most cruel. But a vital role. Sometimes he would sneer up at the heavens, much like Satan had at his father, but his hate was not that of being banished to the darkness, but one of his immortality. His curse was to walk forever on the earth. His fate was one that kept him away from the love of his life. It kept him chained to the earth and away from Marie.

Dracul found himself losing hours of the night in a stupor of reality and memory. He'd merely close his eyes for a moment and open them to see Marie and Trevor. She'd smile and curl up on the lounge chair next to him, her brown eyes twinkling as she observed the young boy jump at his father giggling and holding wooden figures of them all. Trevor would exclaim, “I want to be just like you father!” before he moved the large figure of Gabriel against a large Werewolf. As always, he would make his father win and make the dying whining noises of the wolf. Gabriel would return home and greet them both before Trevor described them being happy together. Marie would chuckle from behind his shoulder and lean her head on top of the cool leather of his coat, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. He would turn his head and smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before taking her hand and kissing the warm skin. She'd take his face in her palms and kiss him soundly. Then the reality shifted again and he'd peer through drowsy eyes. The room would be lit by a fire in the hearth and the crackle of the wood would become evident. As his gaze focused he'd sit up and peer around the room, dazed and a little confused. Alucard would always be across from him, a small smile on his face and a book in his hand. Dracula would sigh and Alucard would always reply with, “I guess you had another visit from mother?”.

This night was little different. Dracula's eyelids fluttered as he regained himself and reality warped back into place. A growl rumbled in his chest as he pushed himself up, off the cool leather of the large lounge seat. He rubbed at his forehead. The crackle of the fire was almost deafening to his sensitive ears as he adjusted to the surroundings after his lapse. He opened his crimson eyes to meet the golden gaze of his son, who was perched in a large arm chair opposite him, his boots resting on an over stuffed foot stool. Dracul heaved himself up, onto his feet and bent his neck to the side, the satisfying crack helping to ease the stiffness. Alucard sighed, shuffling in his seat as he passed the book he held across to his other hand. His eyes were strangely intense, the black surrounding the gold irises making them seem only more bottomless, like a void.

“Father you have to stop this.” Dracula only grumbled lowly, dangerously, in his chest.

“Stop what, son.” His flippant tone would have been a warning to most to halt their line of questioning, but Alucard had never been deathly afraid of his father.

“Stop falling for the illusions. She has moved on, father. All you are seeing are spectacles of your own imagination.” He found himself whipping around with his fury seeping from its container.

“Do you think I wish for it to happen!? Do you think I want to fall for these illusions and taunts?! Do you, son? I fall for them because I am tired! I am sick of being on this earth, doomed to walk it and protect it against the evil that faces me! I have done His bidding for years yet he still asks me to protect the world He created!” Alucard held steadfast against the anger of his maker, his face stoic but his eyebrows furrowing in anger. He bit back his retort and sighed.

“All I ask is that you do something other than rot in this hell hole. You have been cooped up in here since the end to the monsters. At least get away from this pit and its box of dark tricks. Being here with the endless workings of the castle will not help you.” The castle had long ago accepted that its master was back, but still, his blood had a mind of its own at times and animated the stone structures to move around and agitate him. It's powers were limited but still great enough to fool him with whimsical illusions.

Dracula found himself silently agreeing with his son, though his pride would not allow him to openly admit that Alucard was, in fact, correct. His dark crimson coat rippled over the backs of his calves as he paced the length of the room, his arms folded at the base of his back with his clawed fingers interlinked. Alucard followed his father's movements, his eyes watching carefully as Dracula glided along the stone, his boots clicking gently against the cobbles.

“You know I am right, father. You need to escape this place for a while, get out and do something other than gorge yourself on blood and lounging in chairs.” His father shot him a glare as he strode around the room, his dark hair sweeping over his shoulders as he moved. Dracul came to a halt in front of the fire and bore into the flames, their reflections dancing across his crimson gaze.

“I know exactly what you want me to do, son. You want me to go and amuse myself in a way that does not involve the death of humans...am I correct?” Alucard snorted from his place within the depths of the arm chair. He swept a tinted, clawed hand across the room in a vague gesture.

“My word would not stop you anyway, father.” Dracula found a chuckle escaping him despite his dark mood.

“Indeed, it would not.” He carefully placed a palm against the darker stone of the hearth and rapped his black claws against it rhythmically, thoughts flooding his mind. As soon as he opened his mouth  a strange black smog and whirling noise cut him off.

Chupacabra appeared in a small swirl of black smog, his spinning coming to a halt as the cloud dissipated. The dwarf like being grinned and threw his stubby arms out with a flat toothed grin, his blue irises twinkling with mischief against the black surrounding them. He grinned with glee as he span and did a little dance, clapping his bandaged hands together during the jig.

“Ha ha! My prince! I have something to tell you! Oh! And you lord wolf! Oh most excited I am my lords!” Dracula felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance as the small, timeless being danced across the stones and around his legs, his hands clasped together and his eyes hopeful. Alucard cracked a smile. He was often entertained by Chupacabra's antics, which greatly annoyed his father. Chupacabra giggled and Dracula glared down at the dwarf as he tugged on the leather of his coat and clutched his leg, wrapping his stubby arms around the thick muscle.

“Powerful one, can I tell you? Can I show you my lords! They are most rare, yes, most rare indeed!” The small immortal drew out the 'ee' and did another jig around Alucard's arm chair. The smile on Chupacabra's face crinkling the thick, black painted vertical lines on his face. Dracula strode forward with a snarl.

“Calm yourself! Make another move and you'll be locked in a cage again quicker than you can blink!” Chupacabra instantly stilled, wringing his hands in front of him as he looked at the ground a little ashamed, but mostly terrified of being thrown into the dungeon again.

“Yes, my prince. Sorry oh great one.” Alucard flapped his hand at his father with a curious smile. He looked down at the dwarf and chuckled.

“What have you discovered Chupacabra?”

Chupacabra peered up at Dracula with a meek smile. He opened his mouth, only to be silenced when his master held up a single ashen palm, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation as his crimson gaze glowed and dragged itself to look the dwarf in the eye.

“Pull one of your tricks, and it'll be the last thing you ever do...This better be worth my time.” Alucard chuckled at his father, still rather amused by the annoyance he was openly displaying. Chupacabra did a small hop before shaking his body and disappearing in another cloud of black smog. Both vampires blinked and waited for the small creature to reappear with his amazing find, both perhaps equally as sceptical and curious as to what the device may be. Chupacabra had a knack for coming across strange and powerful relics, and Dracula had often fell victim to the dwarf's tricks, thus resulting in the dungeon for the tiny immortal, but sometimes, his finds amongst the ruins were quite intriguing. Apart from his find of a Blood Pixie cage, which he promptly opened, allowing the small black eyed creatures to escape and raise havoc throughout his castle as they chased his minions, Chupacabra had found a few useful pieces for Dracula to use. Despite this, he still remembered the frightful winged pixies, who even managed to latch themselves onto one of his Scavens, and drain the blood from the hound like creature. This had occurred a few years before Chupacabra's banishment to the cage in the dungeon, but it was clearly, in Dracula's mind, a strike against the poor creature's name.

It only took a few minutes for Chupacabra to reappear, shaking his whole body as it rippled back into place in the room, the smoke floating off into the corners of the dimly lit room. He held a chunky ebony wood box in his small bandaged palms. Metal adorned the lid and the rims of the dark coloured wood, some tinted orange with rust. The latch was held firmly in place with a large lion head padlock. Alucard raised an eyebrow at the rusty chest and gazed at Chupacabra with a disappointed look.

“You brought a chest? I think you might want to brace yourself for a day over the lava pit.” The younger vampire pressed his spine back into the stuffing of the chair and tried to suppress a smirk that curled the very corners of his lips upwards. Dracula glowered down at Chupacabra and held a hand out for the chest. Head bowed, the small immortal handed over the ancient chest and watched as the Prince of Darkness fingered the lock, turning the wooden case over in his palms as he examined the metal decorations. His crimson gaze snapped towards the cowering dwarf next to him.

“Explain then. What it it?” Chupacabra swallowed but grinned, happy to have somewhat entertained his master and lord.

“Well, my prince, I think it is a relic of some sorts. Inside the case I mean. But the lock, you see sire, is enchanted. No matter what I do, it won't open, so...” The small creature grew quiet and interlocked his bandaged hands before he swallowed thickly, and began wringing them in a nervous gesture, “I was wondering, oh excellency, if you could...maybe open it?”

The room grew deadly silent as Dracula strode across to the large, wall length, glass window and held the box up to the moon light. Alucard observed his father and Chupacabra fidget, his nerves taking over due to his prior experience with the great vampire lord. A deep, dark laughter filled the room, bouncing off the stone sharply before echoing down the hall. Dracul grinned, his sharp white fangs glittering dangerously. Alucard raised his eyebrows in confusion at his father's outburst and Chupacabra flinched, expecting something to go flying his way. The Prince of Darkness pointed to the lock with a black claw.

“At last we find some sort of trick or puzzle that you cannot get through Chupacabra!” He continued to laugh, the sound harsh and cruel to the ears, as he held the box up once more and focused in on the lock holding the lid firmly closed.

Before Dracula could even touch the padlock again, it burst to life and the key hole snapped closed, out of sight as the lion head huffed. It swung gently on the loop of metal it was clicked around and the tarnished metal of it's eyes swivelled in their sockets to look at the vampire lord in front of it. It snorted and clicked it's metallic mouth, its iron tongue moving as it spoke.

“You'll not 'ave the contents of this box Prince of Darkness! Scourge! Murderer! Monster!” Dracula scowled and Alucard leant forward in his armchair, fascinated by the enchanted creature on the box. Chupacabra thumped his forehead with his small chubby hand.

“Oh my saints tears! This explains why my chants would not work. It's a creature attached to the box not a normal lock!” Alucard stood from his chair and strode over in an instant, his golden eyes gazing at the creature, and his eyebrows furrowed as he thought. The lock growled at him and snapped its mouth open and closed again, it's jaw clicked and scrapped harshly as it formed words.

“What're you lookin' at Wolf Son?! Scourge! Murderer! Monster!” Alucard growled lowly at the creature and forcefully tugged at the lock. The creature hissed in pain and annoyance, and snapped at Alucard's fingers as he pulled his hand away.

Dracula grumbled to himself, rubbing his temples as he felt the pressure of a headache building behind them. The lock growled again.

“Keep your hands to yourself laddie!” Dracula hissed and whirled around, ripping the box from Alucard's hands before he swiftly gripped the babbling creature in his palm. The lion head spat and hissed like a cat in his grasp and he growled back.

“Cease your chatter creature, and I might let you live.” The lock only screamed louder and, having come to the end of his patience, Dracula dug his claws behind the metal of the latch and pulled. The metal groaned in protest but peeled away from the wood like the skin off of an apple. The lock creature screamed and howled at him but fell quiet as the metal gave away with a snap.

Chupacabra giggled in joy and ran over, his mood jovial as he pulled the lock from Dracula's hand and waved a bandaged hand at the creature. The lion growled and grabbed hold of his hand with its tough metal teeth. Dracula and Alucard ignored the tiny immortal's cries and crowded together around the box. With a gentle push, the dark ebony lid fell back against the table to reveal a large crystal ball. The crystal was no larger than a human head, seated on a dusty, tattered purple cushion embroidered with golden leaves and curling, swirling ivy. The bottom was empty except for the pillow, and of course, the seeing ball. Dracula grumbled deep in his chest and slowly turned to look at Chupacabra, who had just finished prying the lock from his small hand and had won the tiny battle. Chupacabra grimaced and looked up, flinching under the glowing red gaze of his master, who was evidently unamused by the revelation of a large glass ball in a chest. Before Chupacabra could even begin to chant, Dracula had him the the back of his neck and dragged him towards the table.

“Tell me what it is then.” He deposited a quivering Chupacabra on top of the table and reclined himself in the arm chair where Alucard was previously sat. Alucard observed from against a bookcase, his arms crossed across his chest and his back resting against the solid wood.

Chupacabra huffed, pushing himself up onto his feet and pulled the crystal ball from its box, turning the glass over in his hands. A grin wormed its way back onto his face as he placed the ball back onto the pillow and squirmed before jumping up onto his feet. Dracula, his head resting against his propped fist, growled at the small creature.

“Well? What is it?” Chupacabra pushed the crystal ball closer to the dark lord, his yellowing teeth exposed in a enormous grin.

“This, my prince, is a Great Druid's seeing glass! Oh, not just any druid my lord. The highest of the high! The greatest of the great! Oh what a marvellous discovery!” The dwarf began dancing once more, across the table in a strange old jig. Alucard chuckled from his place against the shelving and locked eyes with his father, who was growing more and more irritated by the trickster grooving before him. Eyes flashing dangerously in anger, Dracul snapped, his claws puncturing the dark leather of the arm chair.

“And just what does it do?” Chupacabra flinched, immediately grovelling before the prince as he spoke.

“I apologise, my prince. You see, this crystal ball has the power to show you glimpses of the people you will meet. But not just anyone my lord, oh no, this can show you those who you are destined to meet. Those that your fate is eternally bound to.” He giggled again placing his hand against the glass, chanting before the ball lit up with a brilliant light blue light. Alucard frowned from his place against the wall and watched, though his stance was stiff, ready to move quickly if he should need to. Chupacabra smiled at the Prince of Darkness, stepping away from the glowing orb carefully. He held out a mucky hand with a strange smile.

“Why not see for yourself my lord?”

Dracula snorted, leaning back into the chair, his head once again resting against his fist in boredom.

“If I wanted to know my fate, I would look into the Mirror of Fate that I have in this very castle.” Chupacabra scrambled forwards, grabbing at the air.

“But milord?! This shows you the people! Who they are, what they are, where they are! Would you not like to know about your enemies before you even meet them?” Dracula grumbled to himself before he leant forwards again and held out his palm, before gently pressing it against the strangely cold glass of the orb. The bright light enveloped the room, and his sight.

Blinking, he peered around to only see a dimly lit street. He was stood across the road from a woman. The traffic lights changed from green, to amber, to red and the cars in either lane halted. People around them began crossing, their faces blurred, as they moved to cross. He was dressed strangely, his black, lacy cuffed shirt fastened about half way up his torso, and a long red leather trench coat, much like his battle garments. His boots and leather breeches were still on, though they were not reinforced like his armour. He walked slowly, getting increasingly closer to the woman with every step. Her steps were light and graceful and she held a phone to her ear and a briefcase at her side. She wore a blazer, white blouse and pencil skirt. As they drew closer she clicked her phone and slowly placed it in her pocket before coming face to face with Dracula. He peered down at her and almost gasped. Her brown hair and slim face were unmistakeable. Her brown eyes glittered and she apologised after bumping into his chest before dodging around his imposing figure and disappearing around the corner. The tinkle of her voice echoed as he closed his eyes.

The first thing he felt was a weight on his abdomen and a pounding on his chest. The sound of a deep voice caused his eyes to flutter open, the red irises focusing on the pesky immortal sat on him.

“Chupacabra get off of him. He will only make things worse for you if he wakes to you perched on top of him.” Chupacabra wailed, smacking his tiny fists onto the prince's chest again with little force.

“No my prince cannot be dead! Wake up my lord, oh powerful one!” Alucard sighed from his place by Dracula's side.

“Chupacabra, resuscitation will not bring him back...you forget he is dead already.” Chupacabra growled at Alucard with tiny fists balled.

“I know that! My prince just might have responded to my...encouragement!” Alucard snorted but was cut off by Dracula snapping his eyes open, grabbing Chupacabra by the scruff of his neck. Chupacabra screeched and hung limply in the dark lord's hand. Dracula snarled at him,

“The next time I see or feel you so much as touch me, I'll throw you to the Scavens. Do I make myself clear?” Chupacabra nodded rapidly and Dracula released his neck, allowing him to fall to the floor with a thump. The trickster was quick to teleport from the room, the black smog rising as he disappeared.

Alucard shook his head, making his way over to the large lounge chair before spreading himself across it like a basking cat. He fixed his golden gaze on his father, a single white eyebrow raised as he combed the long, shocking locks from his eyes.

“What did you see? A military general looking for the man who butchered his forces in the Purging Night?” Dracula sighed, rubbing his forehead lightly before massaging his temples with the same amount of force. Frowning, his eyes closed he shook his head.

“Nothing like that.” Alucard hummed from within the dark leather. He rapped his claws along the wooden back as he thought.

“Well...a politician seeking to make amends with you?” Dracula scowled at him, his eyes gloomy and dangerous. He scoffed and curled his spine against the plush cushions of the chair.

“Do you take me for a politician son?” Alucard chuckled, folding his hands beneath his head as he smiled. He turned his head to his father and shrugged.

“Then enlighten me, father. Just who did you see?” Dracula peered down at the dark stone of the floor, his irises flashing with a mixture of emotions. His voice fell to just above a whisper as he spoke.

“I saw your mother.”