#to disregard danger for the sake of being so close to what you believe is an answer

[canarydarity]

Hard to tell how indicative the bones on the floor are of anything about the catacombs themselves being how, every few minutes, Pix kills another skeleton adding to the collection. He swipes his sword through the one before him, and it collapses so readily into a pile of bone—like it was made to, like it was just waiting on his sword—that he has to wonder, not for the first time, what was holding it together to begin with. The bones rattle and clatter against those already littered around, and Pix sighs at the further disturbance to the scene as it was when he had entered; accounting for the damage likely done by mobs was going to make this hell to study. 

He grabs another torch and sets it inside one of the empty sconces that still adorn the walls, readjusts his grip on his sword—he can hear more lingering around the next corner; the low hiss that means a spider is near, the groan or two of a zombie. 

Pix picks up a chunk of cobble from the ground and tosses it down the hall, waits. Sure enough, out scuttles a spider. He disposes of it quickly enough, but it seems he’ll have to venture down the dark hall to goad the zombies. He glances at the clock he placed in his hotbar before embarking on this mission (it’s hard to tell how much time passes underground—something he learned quickly in his line of work). There’s still a good amount of daylight left, and he wants the catacombs cleared; he has other projects he has to move on to, things he needs to finish; he’ll just get through a few more halls—it won’t be an issue, surely. 

But the new corner he rounds remains dark even as he places a torch behind him to mark the way back. The groans can still be heard, but a zombie is yet to lumber his way, and so he has to wonder what's beyond his admittedly limited sight. Pix shuffles another foot or so forward, a torch in his non-dominant hand now as well, hoping for light, for vision. The research part of him—the logical academic—knows that it shouldn't still be this dark with the torches placed behind him nor the one in his hand, and that part is so much louder and more important than the one that knows this means something is wrong, the part that says turn around. 

The torch is lit, he can feel the heat of the flame as he observes it flicker in and out but cast no shadow on the wall behind—a wall Pix can’t even see but knows is there all the same. The circle of light provided extends no further than an inch or two out from the flame itself—comparable more to that of a birthday candle than a lit hand torch. If he hadn’t been staring directly at it, he would’ve assumed the fire snuffed out. 

He feels his eye twitch and his brows furrow. Academia liked concrete answers, things that could be explained and reasoned away—unequivocal proof. But Pix had always had a soft spot for the inexplicable, the ineffable. It was nice when he studied something and found an answer, it was riveting when he didn’t. How much more exciting to study it again and again, a riddle that begged not to be solved. (How much sweeter the prize if he were the one to figure it out in the end). 

His interest was piqued. He could feel it, the way his attention focused and his surroundings blurred and left him; his body on standby, his sword hand lowered almost subconsciously.  

In other words, it was entirely his own fault when the zombie grabbed him. Panic is never a good thing to welcome into a fight, but it likes to show up uninvited anyway. Pix's entire career revolves around studying human behavior, about how human nature cannot be fought against though it oft leads us to our own downfall and ruin. He finds it uncanny when he's reminded that this is a phenomenon from which he is not exempt. 

In haste, he elbows the zombie behind him and turns, back now to the darkness—the one not even his torch could dent. It’s an ugly bugger, eyes soft and misshapen from decay and skin so leathery it’s as if it's been treated and is ready for use as a saddle or armor. Logic replaced by horror, before he can run it through it advances, arms out, and Pix drops his sword to reach back, holding it at arm's length itself; their arms interlocked, pose not unlike meeting an old friend again for the first time in a while. His hands grip the woven fabric of what's left of its shirt, too old and worn to be from any time close to recent, and, despite the very real danger, his mind takes the time to process the period-accurate fabric, the hand-stitched design. He blanches again as he looks into its horrible milky eyes—this zombie was from the capital. 

Not sentient enough to know why it’s not actually getting any closer to Pixlriffs, the zombie makes a noise that sounds frighteningly human in its frustration and steps forward, and in his distraction, Pix lets it. The push seems to make his brain function yet again, and he shoves the zombie backward a good few paces away, but the momentum sends him stepping back himself, and his foot finds not purchase but, instead, the disturbing lack of solid ground, and with nothing left to do, he falls. 

He hits the ground with a thump and a crack and a lot of other sounds he would rather not describe as he feels they were likely very undignified. Winded but, it appears, still in one piece, he grabs another torch and strikes it against the wall, holding it up above him when it lights and shines this time as torches normally do. He buries the part of himself that is disappointed at this—the part that wants to panic and complain finally louder, now, than the part that says hmm. 

He didn’t fall too far, it seems. Now that the torch is lit he can see the gap he’d fallen through, just under a dozen feet or so above where he lays. It's obvious even looking from below how the stone floor had crumbled away, taking maybe one or two hits too many over time from overcrowded mobs or shifts in terrain or pressure aboveground. He tilts his head back but sees only another dead end behind him, and ahead looks like a further, deeper hall of the tomb he hadn’t uncovered yet, though the path is obstructed by debris from above; a net of spiderweb blankets the pile of stone and dirt, but no spider seems to be left guarding the web. 

His friend above seems to have lost interest now that he’s fallen out of sight, and its moans and groans get further away by the second. 

No immediate threat, Pix lets his head fall back onto the ground and takes a breath. He knew the crypt would be full of mobs, he knew it’d be hard, but still…

No, it’s worth it. It will be worth it. He has a job to do.

At least he isn’t defenseless—it’s more than he can say for the dungeons. Not a weapon to his name, fists wrapped in tape so red you’d never believe it’d been white to begin with; knuckles so raw and scraped and beaten by the time he’d made it out that they’d scarred that way—permanent marks of the fighter he was, of the fighter he’d proved to be. 

There was a fear there, too, at that very real and physical understanding of permanence. His studies proved expert in providing examples of what was permanent and what wasn’t, and where people weren’t, things were. He’d spent enough time studying what could be learned about a person by the things they left behind to begin to wonder if anyone at all would’ve remembered him if he’d died in those dungeons—not a singular weapon or item for him to leave behind and tell his story.

Pix stops wallowing. He sits up and reaches over his shoulder for his pick; he isn’t shocked to find that the shaft had snapped in two from the fall, it having been strapped to his back. He sighs, tossing it aside as useless. He’ll make another. 

He takes the time to remind himself again that he knew it was going to be difficult, and that difficulty was no reason to not continue. But it didn’t just feel difficult it felt…inhibiting. Dissuading, deterring, impeding. It felt deliberate. It felt like, stay out; like, we don’t want you here; like, leave us to our rest. 

(it wasn’t, it was something far more sinister. An idea he’d never thought to consider; like a torch was giving off too-little light in the hallway of a dark, long-forgotten crypt, he couldn’t see any farther than what was right in front of his own face. How cliche it’d be, in the end, when it came to pass—the academic too invested in their own research, too dismissive of the present danger posed until it consumed them. He’d have a moment to laugh about it later, when the dread had settled in and all options—or lack thereof—exhausted. While on the topic of permanence…

It was not go away that the tomb was saying, not a driving force out that was being enacted upon the archeologist, but a more frightening call of stay. A threatening but desperate find…become…join…

No, if it were trying to keep him out, why would it keep pushing him deeper? Add this to the list of things he’d realize too late.)

He stands and dusts himself off. The wall is thick and overgrown with glow lichen, and he grabs the nearest vines and tugs one, twice, three times before deciding it won't give and hoisting up. It takes a few minutes and a fair amount of huffing and puffing to get himself to the top and over the edge but he does it, collapsing on higher ground once again and taking a minute to slow his pulse. When he left the dungeons, he dove back into the studies he’d been missing and decided he’d had enough fighting to last a lifetime—this was not without consequence, he’s not nearly as in shape as he used to be. 

His sword is still on the ground where he’d dropped it, so he reequips and readies himself to push his way back out; he’d have to make time to come back and clear the rest another day. He would be back, and he hoped he would be welcomed. 

“I don’t mean to disturb you,” he says into the quiet blackness of the catacombs. He doesn't dare speak above a whisper, for there were still mobs around and his voice carried enough as it was, bouncing along the empty stone and quiet graves. “I'd like to tell your story.” 

There's nothing to hear but for the scuttling of various creatures far off in the dark, the shrill whistle of stray wind through small openings and holes. He raises his voice only slightly, a bit bolder. “Don’t you want me to do that? Will—would you allow me to do that?” 

Silence, and then—the rattle and clatter of a skeleton. It sounds like only one; he lit everything up pretty well on his way in, getting out should be easier. Striking another torch against the wall, Pix prepares to go. For a second, the light is brighter than it should be, its circle of light illuminating the hall completely, the hole he’d fallen into, the distance to the other side. He leans back to avoid the heat of the flame, and he sees it. 

The other side of the cave-in leads not to another tunnel but to an alcove, and empty it is not. His torch, though many feet away, sheds light on the scene; the heavily wax-encrusted stone above a pile of used candles and burnt wicks, the coin and other offerings of gold overflowing from bowls and chalices and any other orifice they could be piled upon, and her. 

He recognizes her immediately. The tapestry covers the majority of the wall, and though it's faded for certain, the lack of direct sunlight has done wonders at preserving what it could. The colors are familiar to his research, the subtle and light greens under warm oranges and yellows. He’s too far, he cannot see any detail; the background, what she's holding, her face—but he knows her. She’s their patron. 

The skeleton wanders closer, its bones clicking and clacking down the hall. Pix swallows. 

“I’ll return for you, I will.” It’s a promise. She’s holding a secret, he knows she is—he’s going to figure out what. Pix turns just in time to face the skeleton as it rounds the corner, and soon its bones join those on the floor, new and old alike. 

His words still echo off the caverns and crevices of the catacombs after he's left and gone, and though not possible to have been heard by human ears, the crypt whispers back good. 

~-~-~-~

Far below even the hole the archeologist had fallen in, leagues underneath the surface of the earth, buried perhaps the furthest underground of anything left behind from the ancient capital—so deeply you’d have to wonder if maybe it was done on purpose—the crown sits in a chest, waiting patiently to be discovered. It’s not a matter of if, but a nice decisive and quiet when. Eventually, the echo of the archeologists' words falls upon it where it sits, and slowly it begins to emit a soft glow. It says stay, it says find, it says become, it says join.

It says soon.

[thenewgirl76]

I'll Make You Believe

While the whole "asking a ghost how they died is the worst taboo ever, so don't do it or you'll be in a world of hurt" headcanon is always fun to implement to either create temporary conflict or simply move the story along, I think it'd work just as well on both ends if it was only a minor offense.

Like if you were to ask a once living ecto being how they died the most negative response you'd get would either be some variation of "None of your business puny mortal" or an explanation using the most vividly graphic, stomach turning details as an act of petty revenge as well as insurance you never ask again.

So what could possibly be a way more serious, far more dangerous no-no when it comes to ghosts instead? Well, how about stating ghosts don't exist/there's no such things as ghosts? The reason why being you're invalidating the trauma they've experienced in their last moments.

Makes no difference whether you were aware of this or not. If they find out or worse, it's said to their face? You better hope they'll settle for beating you black-and-blue. Because the alternative is becoming a ghost yourself by the time they're done with you.

Now in dpxyj fics when Danny interacts with Wally and the whole "ghost are/aren't real" argument between them comes into play it's usually depicted as a trivial disagreement. But what if you were to make it more angsty by inserting this take on lack of ghostly etiquette?

Let's say after getting to know his teammates better Danny starts talking about his origins (in vague detail) and exploits, only to eventually be interrupted by Kid Flash declaring that he can't possibly be a ghost as they don't exist. And Robin, Aqualad, Miss Martian, and Superboy all become quite alarmed watching Danny go from easygoing to looking ready to beat Kid Flash to a pulp, as he's now fighting back his ghostly nature. To avoid giving in to the urge he abruptly leaves with a dismissive attitude, much to KF's confusion.

From there it spirals. KF, not realizing he's poking a hornets nest continuing to voice his skepticism whenever the opportunity comes up and each time Danny barely manages to keep it together. Until one day Danny in an explosive rage snatches up KF and in a tone colder than ice tells him he knows what he is, what he went through to reach that state, and that he has no need to justify any of it to him.

Then he leaves once more before he really loses it. Before going after him Miss Martian informs KF of how Danny opened his mind to her and that for his sake she hopes he never shares those memories of what he went through with him. Feeling bad now, KF tries to apologize once Danny returns. Which results in failure again and again since Danny keeps giving him the cold shoulder.

After having yet another apology disregarded KF, in mounting frustration blurts out that he wishes he understood what has Danny so convinced he's a ghost, unaware a certain wish twisting genie he was warned about had been invisibly lurking in the vicinity the instant Danny was elsewhere. Along with the rest of the regulars, as soon as KF's denials had spread to the Ghost Zone Desiree was on the warpath, intent on showing just how real ghosts truly were. By sheer spite and determination she beat everyone else to him, just in time to hear him say the forbidden word, presenting her with the perfect means of retribution.

With a "So you have wished it so shall it be" KF is magically transported to an underwater submarine, occupied by Black Manta. Unable to run as freely without potentially damaging the sub and causing it to flood, the fight upon his unexpected arrival is drawn out to the point KF starts to feel his hyper metabolism weakening him. It's when he's close to dying of starvation that one of the more incompetent goons sends him crashing into the stash of ectoplasm Manta had smuggled with the intent of using it to pollute the waters of Aquaman's Kingdom. The last thing KF sees before blacking out is Desiree looming over him with a smirk of satisfaction.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck and Eddie: Buck said, “I feel like she sees me”

(Clearing drafts before the end of season 6.)

When Buck said, “I feel like she sees me” it upset Eddie along with all the viewers who know EDDIE IS THE ONLY PERSON WHO TRULY SEES HIM.  It’s been bothering me for a week now and I finally figured out why.

Every woman Buck’s ever been with only saw one part of him and he’s constantly defined himself via his relationships without really being invested in them.

Hookup #1 - He met her on an app, they hooked up in the firetruck and when he asked her if he could get to know her better she said “You’re really good at whatever it is we just did but let’s not ruin it by getting to know each other better”.  He asked to get to know her but she didn’t want to get to know him.

Hookup #2 (snake handler) - He met her on a call and she saw Buck the Firefighter and nothing else.  Bobby fired him for his antics and even though she told Buck to call her, he probably didn’t since he got fired.

Dr. Wells - Looked at his Facebook page before he ever went into her office, so she saw a firefighter and that’s it.  She never wanted to get to know him.

Abby - Called him after she saw him on the news and even though she was his first real relationship, he didn’t make the choice because she pursued him.  Also, Bobby was the one who gave Buck advice on stepping in with her but it didn’t work and she still abandoned him. He told Maddie “I like the me that I am when I’m with her” but he was still defining himself based on what he thought they had and when she returned in 3x18, all she talked about was the things she wanted and needed but disregarded him completely.  He even told her that he was happy for her.

Taylor - First encounter was because she saw a hot firefighter and they hooked up in a bar.  When he went to apologize she reminded him that she bought him a drink.

Ali - Told him she didn’t know after the ladder truck explosion because she couldn’t be who she was if she stayed with him since he didn’t want to give up firefighting.

Taylor - He told her “I spent my whole life feeling like I wasn’t enough, so if you don’t want me” and when she said she did want him, he took that to mean she really wanted a relationship.  Things were never going to work with them because she never knew or saw all of him and when she put his family in danger, he had to end it.

Connor (old roommate) - acted like he really knew who Buck was to get him to agree to the sperm donation.  He told Buck he knew he had a good heart and isn’t that what Buck’s always wanted?

Natalia - is the one who’s giving him the “attention” he’s always wanted.  In his coma dream he told Bobby he finally felt like he mattered there in his other life, so when she was mesmerized by him dying, he believed that’s what he’s been looking for.  Someone to marvel at him and even though it looks like he’s more interested in learning more about his death and how he needs to accept it, he was happy someone wanted to hear his story about dying without making him feel bad about it.

Eddie

Eddie SEES ALL OF BUCK and that’s a fact but Buck’s too caught up in his own head to realize it.

"There’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you."

"No one will ever fight for my son as hard as you and that’s what I want for him."

"You act like you’re expendable... but you’re wrong."

"You died Buck.  I found the best way to process is to allow yourself to feel it."

"You don’t have to be anything for anybody."

Is Buck finally getting it?  It seems like he is and it’s painful to watch but he said, “I feel like I have to be the same old Buck, mostly for the sake of everyone else” which means he’s been pretending and he knows it but he’s not ready to look too closely at it because he’s close to understanding his heart has and still does belong to Eddie.

Buck admitted in 6x13 “Mixed Feelings” that he’s the one with the answers and Eddie acknowledged it in 6x15 “Death and Taxes” so Buck’s the one who has to figure things out since Eddie already knows.  Another thing is Buck has to realize Eddie is an option so he’ll stop “hiding his true feelings” (that’s what he told Dr. Copeland in 4x2).  Eddie’s waiting for Buck to finally get it and it appears he just might get it in 6x18 when he might lose Eddie again.

[badmusejail]

@pkmnsdarkqueen continued from the drabble

“I wouldn’t say now that Will and I are any form of god. Just humans with a connection to something powerful.”

She hummed propping her head on her hands after setting her elbows on the warm wood of the table. Her eyes kept staring out the window beside her. There was a fixation on the people as they went by. Just humans. She much preferred to be just human and to be seen as such.

“Even my title as an elite I grow tired off. It elevates me, or people perceive I am elevated despite truly doing nothing to earn such a status besides strength. Anyone can accomplish strength with enough hard work.”

The counter made for her own statement. Refocusing on the person in front of her she still wasn’t sure how they found out about Ho-oh, which scared her. That emotion though could not be portrayed, and would not be in her generally still face. Her eyes were careful to hide every reaction.

“When Will and I were kids we saw ourselves as something beyond human. It was fun to, but wouldn’t any child given so much power. Back then we were intent on finding a way to rule, maybe into lean into the region's obsession with the past to exalt ourselves to a deific state of being. The humbling though came soon after we realized how terrible Pryce was.”

“It’s interesting,” he murmured quietly.  He himself didn’t want to maintain eye contact--but, then again, didn’t he always?  Fingers fidgeting at the table, hat shadowing his (shockingly sober) gaze; nothing more than a washed out trainer.  “What even is a God?  Can a human be a God?  Can a Pokémon be a God?  I personally feel much safer saying they’re entirely separate.”

Quietly, he disagreed with the sentiment that anyone could achieve strength.  It was the sort of optimistic, childish idea that sounded perfect in theory, but sadly didn’t hold up.  Some people simply couldn’t.  Some people simply weren’t cut out to be trainers.  Some people simply lacked the physical ability to be strong.

Why?  (Well, that’s why people started believing in Gods in the first place, isn’t it?)

“I used to have a friend that believed in the creation myths in Sinnoh...or, I suppose, maybe believe is too strong.  More like cautiously optimistic.”  There was a chuckle, heavy with sadness as he flattened his hands against the table.  

“Personally...I’m not inclined to think anything that we can define to be a Pokemon could also be a God.  But it’s rude to disregard others’ beliefs.”

He shook his head.  He was off topic, wasn’t he?

“I suppose...  God or not, otherwise or not...all that matters is that if you have power, what will you do with it?  Will you make a difference?  Can you make a difference?

“Honestly, I’m not sure which is worse.  To lack the power and yearn desperately for it, or to have the power but still fail to make a difference.”  A grimace, cutting too close to home there.  

“But, it’s dangerous...so dangerous.  Why should you be expected to put yourself out for the sake of others?  It isn’t fair, is it?”

[keichanz]

Mistake

kay so i really don't care if some of this doesn't make sense because this is the first thing i've written in a while that i don't absolutely hate. well this version at least. ending up scraping the first draft because it just seemed wrong and went in a different direction. im glad i did cause im happy with it.

anyway i realize that this may not get much feedback because i took a different approach to it, aka the entire pov is from an OC but i can't bring myself to care too much because i wrote this purely for myself. got inspired, started writing, and i actually liked the content i was writing. end of.

btw the oc doesn't refer to inuyasha as a half-demon because he's unaware he is one and i was too lazy to delve into those waters anyhow.

also for the sake of this oneshot pls dont look too closely at the ranks of diplomat and ambassador. i was too lazy to put much research regarding positions of power so just...go with it.

inspired by @stillunderyourbed​'s art that can be found here.

It was…quaint. Smaller than what he'd expected. The housing structures looked subpar, there didn't appear to be any wooden walkways, and he could detect the distinct odor or fish in the air with hints of manure. There even seemed to be a perpetual dust cloud hovering at about waist high, thickening from the numerous carts, wagons, horses, and villagers kicking up dirt as they went about their daily lives. Already he felt like there was a layer of dust caked on the inside of his lungs and he wasn't even inside yet.

All in all, it was your typical countryside village, home to simple folk that made a living off of fishing, farming, and trade. The diplomat sneered in disgust. For being the rumored home of the creature strong enough to destroy the despicable Naraku, the village was…less than impressive. And to say that he was underwhelmed would be a vast understatement.

Shifting atop his mount, a chestnut gelding that had been his faithful companion for the last four years, Takeji frowned as he surveyed the sight before him. It was early afternoon, so men were out working in the fields, women were chatting amongst themselves as they laundered clothing at the river, and children were running about, playing and laughing while dogs barked at their heels. He could see the great red torii gate and the stone staircase that led to the shrine and he could hardly refrain from rolling his eyes.

The village was obviously poor, possibly even teetering on the edge of poverty, and instead of feeding themselves for a good long while, they decided to construct that monstrosity. He would never understand the minds of simple common folk. Daft. All of them.

Barely keeping himself from scowling, Takeji reluctantly climbed off his mount and forced himself to move forward into the pathetic excuse for a village. Already he knew he would have to burn his expensive attire; there would be no getting the dust and stench out of it after his ghastly visit. A visit he had not wanted to make, but being a highly revered and prestigious diplomat, it was his duty to travel to far off lands in hopes of establishing a profitable relationship that would ultimately benefit his homeland.

Although, looking around and fighting against the urge to retch at both the nauseating stench and the mere sight of all the unwashed villagers milling around, Takeji wondered not for the first time why he even bothered to accept this task. True, it was said the slayer of Naraku did hail from here, but surely having his homeland associated with this hovel would garner nothing but loss. So why had he agreed to come?

Oh, yes, he mused, grimacing as he stepped over a large manure pile right in the middle of the road. Because apparently, being all chummy with the nation's hero will allow us to have him at our beck and call, because who doesn't want a powerful demon capable of slaying the most evil demon in all of existence as an intimidating presence during negotiations, and let's not forget he alone would be equal to about one hundred soldiers in battle.

Rolling his eyes, Takeji tied his mount to a hitching post, withdrew his satchel with all the necessary paperwork, and set about finding this Inuyasha fellow. He'd been told the demon wore scarlet robes, carried a sword at his hip, and had white hair so no doubt he would stick out like a sore thumb amongst the droll browns and grays of the common folk, which suited him just fine. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could leave because there was no way he was staying even a second more in this village than he had to. Even if the next inn was hours away, he'd make the journey; the inn here was probably as unclean and riddled with bed bugs or something. Ugh. How vile.

Shrugging the satchel over his shoulder, Takeji bit back a groan, sighed, and hadn't even made it a single step before the sound of screaming froze him in his tracks. He gasped and immediately started looking for the danger, body tense, preparing to hop back onto his steed lightning fast and make a hasty getaway.

But as he looked around with wide eyes and a frantically beating heart, Takeji couldn't help but notice that he was the only one that appeared to have heard the sound of terror. The villagers were just continuing to go about their day, calm as you please, either severely deaf or completely uncaring. Takeji was beginning to wonder if he was perhaps hearing things when it happened again, a high-pitched sound that he realized with dread belonged to a child.

Takeji gaped. A child was in danger and nobody cared?! What kind of village was this?! Another shriek pierced the air, and Takeji made a decision. Very well; if these imbeciles weren't going to do anything about it, then he himself would see to the danger. While by no means a swordsman or warrior, he did have some weapons training he could fall back on for this precise reason. Traveling alone was dangerous, and you never knew what you would encounter.

Resolved, the diplomat set his jaw, unsheathed the dagger at his waist, and darted toward the direction the screams were coming from. He meandered between houses, hoped over lazing dogs, dodged startled villagers in his path, and he came into a small clearing by the forest's edge. The sight that greeted him was…not what he expected.

Coming up short, Takeji watched with a befuddled frown as one child chased around two other, slightly older looking children. One might think they were playing a game of sorts, and the diplomat started to believe that was indeed the case…until the one doing the chasing, clad in red, suddenly jumped high into the air, over the heads of the other two children, and landed before them with hands raised.

Hands, Takeji noticed with growing dread and disgust, tipped with claws on each finger and he quickly realized what exactly was happening. That wicked little demon brat, that creature was toying with those helpless children! It was keeping them trapped, preventing them from running away by leaping over their heads and blocking their route of escape! They screamed, the demon child laughed, and so potent was his fury, so enraged was he for the fact that the villagers apparently did not care about what was happening right beneath their noses, Takeji failed to notice the wide smiles on all three of the young one's faces. The blood pounding in his ears prevented him from hearing the gleeful giggles as the two human kids scrambled away from the one clad in red, and without another thought, Takeji moved.

"Run, children!" Takeji ordered as he hurled himself into the clearing, dagger raised as he charged toward the demon brat with a baleful glare. "I will take care of his filthy animal!"

All three children froze in place, eyes wide as Takeji inserted himself between the two human children - twin girls, he idly noted - and the demon spawn that dared raised its claws toward them. The brat stared up at him with big brown eyes and it - she - actually looked confused. Takeji scowled. He would not fall for such a ploy.

"I will not allow you to harm them," he spat and pointed his dagger at her. The child blinked at him and then looked behind him at the two girls who still had not taken the chance to flee. In shock, perhaps? Stunned? No matter; they were safe, so long as he stood between them and the threat.

The demon child made a face and started to walk around him, completely disregarding the weapon trained on her, but Takeji shifted and stopped her once more. He heard the two behind him whispering as the spawn looked up at him once again, this time frowning at him with narrowed eyes. And was that a growl he heard? He snorted. Was she actually trying to appear threatening? Pathetic.

Scowling, Takeji lifted a foot, placed it on her stomach, and shoved. The demon gasped as she stumbled back and then landed on her behind with a small grunt. He heard a gasp from behind him, urgent whispering, and then hurried scrambling. A glance over his shoulder told him they'd finally gotten wise and ran away. He nodded. Good. Now he could deal with this vermin without innocent eyes to bear witness.

But as he stared down at the pathetic sight before him, Takeji wondered maybe if such measures would even be necessary. The beast was still lying where she had fallen and was staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with…wait. What? Were those tears? Oh, you have got to be joking.

Rolling his eyes, the diplomat scoffed at the pathetic play for mercy and careless waved his dagger at her. The child actually flinched and followed the blade with her gaze, wariness clear in her eyes. Well. It appeared her self-preservation instincts have finally kicked in.

"Cease your theatrics," Takeji drawled, unimpressed. "They do not fool me. Now lucky for you, demon spawn, the pathetic sight you project has made me decide to spare your life. Your tainted blood is not worthy enough to soil my blade, so I will say this only one and you would do well to heed this warning, beast."

Hardening his stare and curling his lip into a sneer, Takeji spat, "Leave this place at once and do not return. There is no place for the likes of you, an abomination that preys on helpless children. Now get out of my sight, afore I kill you on principle. Your vile presence disgusts me."

The child grunted and Takeji watched, stone faced, as she got to her feet. Then to his surprise the little demon balled her hands into fists at her sides and glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the tears he could clearly see brimming her eyes. He cocked a brow, unmoved. She sniffled once, twice, and then to his utter surprise and bafflement, her face suddenly crumbled, her lower lip trembled, and she promptly burst into loud tears before spinning on her heel and running away.

"P-Papaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Takeji frowned. Papa? Were the brat's kin nearby, then? Body tense and weapon raised, he waited, prepared to either fight or flee - because he wasn't a fool and knew when he was in over his head - but when no demons came bursting out of the tree line, Takeji slowly relaxed.

Bewildered and more than a little annoyed at the whole debacle - what a waste of time! - the diplomat scoffed in derision as he turned to watch the little demon brat scurry away. And then right at that exact moment, a figure donned in red dropped to the ground seemingly out of nowhere and Takeji felt a wave of relief sweep through him. Finally! This had to be his demon quarry.

Nodding, Takeji stepped forward and opened his mouth to call out a greeting—

And then froze in his tracks as the greeting abruptly died on his tongue. Because the little demon girl, the one he'd just pointed his weapon at and shoved to the ground, ran straight to the figure robed in red and Takeji could do naught but watch with a growing sense of horrified dread as the older demon knelt down to take the child into his arms.

All color promptly drained from his face and Takeji suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He glanced behind the pair and he was somehow not at all surprised to find the twin girls from earlier glaring at them and holding onto the skirts of their mother with a monk garbed in violet robes beside her. They too were staring at him in a not so friendly manner, but upon returning his gaze to the two demons, Takeji numbly thought that if looks could kill, he would surely be dead by now.

Because the demon robed in red - which was now unmistakably the child's father and none other than Inuyasha, the demon he'd come here for - was glaring absolute murder at him and it was obvious that he was. Not. Pleased.

Takeji swallowed and unconsciously backed up a step. With one small hand fisting her father's robes, the child had the other pointing an accusatory finger at him as she no doubt recited to him their earlier…ah, exchange. Inuyasha said nothing in response, but he didn't need to. The deep, nearly subsonic growl that erupted from his mouth, complete with fully bared fangs in a truly fearsome snarl, told him very clearly of his thoughts on his daughter's mistreatment by him.

Which, if Takeji had to guess, were not very Takeji-friendly. At all.

Somehow managing to fight against the urge to flee, Takeji swallowed hard as Inuyasha pushed to his feet and stalked toward him with that same murderous look on his face. Something told him, perhaps some deeply rooted self-preservation instinct, that if he even tried to run right then, it would not end well for him. So he remained where he was and tried valiantly to control the trembling in his body as he slowly, very slowly, tucked his dagger back from whence it came.

Inuyasha stopped in front of him and Takeji cleared his throat before attempting a placating smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything. "Ah…I assume you are…In—"

One second Takeji was staring into the scowling features of one pissed off dog demon. The next there was a bright flash of light and then he was staring at the business end of a very large and very sharp sword. With the tip just a hair's breadth away from his nose, Takeji gasped sharply and stumbled back a step out of instinct.

Sweet merciful heavens! How—?

"Usually I'd ask who the fuck you are," the demon growled, his eyes twin slits of baleful gold. "But honestly, I can't really bring myself to care enough to know the name of the asshole who threatened my daughter when she was doing nothing but playing with her friends."

Takeji blanched for the second time and he could actually feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He fucked up. Oh dear god he'd fucked up so bad—

"There's—there's been a misunderstanding," Takeji tried in a voice higher than usual, raising his hands up in what he hoped was a placating gesture as he eyed the very sharp point of that blade. "I—I admit I've made a grave mistake—"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me why I shouldn't gut you where you stand," Inuyasha hissed, lips feeling back off his fangs in another fierce snarl. With his ears pinned back and those golden eyes glaring absolute death at him, the demon made quite the menacing picture. Takeji had the brief, if a bit ludicrous thought, that perhaps the demon Naraku perished from the sheer animosity that was coming off of the silver-haired demon in waves.

Swallowing once, twice, Takeji realized that he only had his quick wit to get him out of his certain predicament. So bracing himself, he opened his mouth—

"He's from the continent, Inuyasha. You can't hurt him."

Startled hazel eyes swung toward the source of the voice but amber eyes stayed locked on their target, the only acknowledgment of the voice a flick of an ear.

The owner of the voice the human diplomat could only presume was the child's mother, as the child in question was standing behind her legs and was actually smirking at him. He frowned.

"You're from Shenshi," the woman remarked and Takeji swung his gaze back to her. "Right?"

Though her expression wasn't openly friendly, it wasn't exactly unfriendly either, however the human diplomat still felt he needed to tread carefully. Because while her face didn't betray anything, her stare was hard and her mouth had tightened into a thin, flat line. She had one hand on her daughter's head while the other clutched a longbow, and belatedly he realized she had a quiver of arrows slung across her back. He barely held in a flinch as he realized this was one of the demon's companions that had assisted in slaying Naraku, possibly the young woman in which Inuyasha held a more meaningful relationship.

A much more meaningful relationship, if the child currently glaring daggers at him was anything to go by since she was more or less living proof of it.

Wonderful. So he'd gone and threatened the only child of two of the most powerful beings in Japan. Clearly he'd stepped over the wrong grave and pissed somebody off.

Clearing his throat and aiming a strained smile toward the woman who was still awaiting his reply, Takeji nodded once. "Ah, y-yes, my lady. I'm—"

"The diplomat Ambassador Sharaku sent to convince Inuyasha to join his ranks so he'd have the support and protection of 'The Great Slayer of Naraku.'" The woman raised a delicate brow at him. "How am I doing so far?"

Takeji had the good grace to look a mite sheepish. "Ah…well—"

"You can't kill him, Inuyasha," she repeated and Takeji thought she sounded disappointed. "If he goes missing, the ambassador will send his troops to find out what happened or if he returns injured, it could be taken as an insult and you can imagine what would happen after that. You would risk mine or Moroha's life like that, and you know it."

Inuyasha growled but said nothing to refute her words, so Takeji assumed he agreed.

"He threatened her, Kagome," the demon spat, inching the blade closer to his throat and Takeji flinched. "Called her a fucking animal, shoved her down, and waved a goddamn dagger in her face! You can't honestly expect me to let that—"

"Papa," the child - Moroha - suddenly said, successfully stalling her father's angry tirade. A quick glance revealed the girl, still sticking close to her mother, was staring at the older demon with big brown eyes, bright with the threat of tears as she worried her bottom lip. And evidently the sight was enough to calm the raging storm of Inuyasha's fury because he grimaced, released a low growl, and then Takeji watched in stunned amazement as the massive sword suddenly transformed into a rusty katana before it was sheathed at his hip.

With a weapon no longer at his throat, Takeji could breathe a little easier and he released a breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding. But then he sucked it right back in when Inuyasha suddenly stepped in close and got in his face, a low, threatening growl leaking past rightly clenched teeth bared in another snarl. Golden eyes bore into his own, filled with a lethal warning that had the human male's back straightening and his blood to run cold in his veins.

"You listen carefully, asshole," Inuyasha hissed, glaring so heatedly it was a wonder Takeji didn't burst into flame. "Don't you dare think that my wife's words have any sort of sway over my decision to spare your pathetic life. I'm not scared of your weakling ambassador and I sure as hell ain't scared of his little human army. No, the only reason that I let you live is because I don't want my daughter, the one you foolishly threatened when she had done nothing wrong, to see me sully my hands with your disgusting blood when I reduce you to nothing more than a bloody smear on the ground."

Takeji paled and swallowed thickly. That particular image was…not pleasant.

Inuyasha watched the color drain from his face. Satisfied, he sneered before saying in a growl filled with sinister promise, "Now get the fuck outta my village and if you ever touch my daughter again, I'll gut you so fast you won't even have time to fucking scream."

Then with that, Inuyasha leveled him with one last dark scowl before spinning on his heel and stalking away, a clear dismissal. Neither mother nor daughter even spared the frozen human male a glance as Inuyasha paused to pick his daughter up into his arms before striding away, his wife close to one side and his friends on the other.

From over his shoulder, Takeji could only watch in a mixture of shock and befuddlement as the little demon girl named Moroha smirked and then stuck her tongue out at him, safe and sound in her father's arms.

Left standing in a state of numb bewilderment, Takeji blinked, looked down at himself, and had the passing thought that it was a very good thing he'd decided to wear brown trousers that day.

[imagine-otome-games]

Survivors Guilt [GI Childe]

Pairing: Childe x Fem!Reader [[3RD POV]] [[Heavy use of she/her]]

Warnings: Angst, dark-ish imagery, dark thoughts etc also kinda long since theres barely any dialouge.

!!SPOILERS FOR LIYUE ARCHON QUEST!! [[Vague but if you know you know]]

A/N: working on that diluc but uh this hit me sooo.. I wondered what would have happened if that fight didn’t go so smoothly..

;; a day in which all his debts were paid off with interest;;

 “ Pᴀɪɴᴛ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅs, ɪɴᴋ ʀᴜɴs, ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ..”

It was truly a sight to behold- something like a breathtaking scene in a famous novel. Poets and authors alike would try to replicate it, but it would never be quite the same- not as impactful.

No words could ever truly replicate the way he had screamed upon hearing the news. No painter could even come close to recreating the look in his anguished eyes- the rigid state of his entire body- the immediate stream of tears. However, who would truly want to? Words hit hard enough so an actual image would be pure torture and yet.. some found inspiration at the way this hardened Harbinger absolutely broke down for his love..

Even the strongest of people have their weaknesses and his lied with her..

“I promise I’ll be back soon.”, he had said, with pure confidence too despite it all. 

She had been so far from the harbor- she didn’t give him any hint that she would be on the waters that day. Even she had, what had ultimately happened was a last resort. He never intended to do it but.. perhaps if she had mentioned something that day.. he would have stopped himself.

If he was stronger- if he hadn’t allowed himself to be used..

The rage mixed in all that anguish was suffocating- each and every breath he took as he moved forward felt like it was searing his lungs. His legs felt like the bones within were made of lead, threatening to cave in on themselves. He almost wished they would- he wished they’d shatter- he begged to his current wounds to just end what was only the beginnings of his endless suffering.

Instead of hoping his death would happen in glorious battle he wished for it to be swift- for it to carry him home immediately, no matter how selfish it seemed.

He had a family, he had to think of how they would feel but now... now the blood on his hands was blood he was never meant to spill..

He always knew the true costs of his line of work would catch up to him.. Childe simply thought that cost wouldn’t be so high- so immediate. Or.. something of his own doing-

Once he made it to where the crowds had gathered- to the aftermath seen by all, he was gifted with burning daggers in his back by their eyes- a hint of pity accented within the obvious poison. They would forever be embedded in his flesh. None would be unaware of his horrific deed in Liyue harbor- the absolute disregard for innocents and his own dearest heart.

He wished the people would be more violent, but he knew they wouldn’t be. That was too easy- too merciful.

Within that crowd he found what he had destroyed. There, in the calm waters, surrounded by mourning citizens that knew her well... she floated calmly. Her calm face struck him hard- it was now dull, there was no life within her features- this was not like when she slept or when she turned her face to soak in the beautiful sun.

The reality of everything hit him so hard it knocked the breath and rationality out of him.

He had begged and pleaded and sobbed in vain- she had been gone all along. When he was told you were missing- lost at sea, deep in his very core he knew the waves had stolen her. Osial must have stolen her was what he allowed himself to believe for a time, but Childe was not that much of a fool. His own idiocy and failure to think rationally stole her from him. He did this to himself and now, in front of all of those which he wronged, he breaks.

He will never be able to see her smile- how is it that one person can have so many different smiles? So many expressions to miss and touches to crave and be robbed of. Childe would never hold her in his arms. He could no longer relish in the taste of her lips or her warm embrace on late nights. 

Her voice would no longer bring him back to life on the days he lost himself- he would be left to drown out at sea, just as he deserved. There was no future to look forward to- a time when he would get to call you his wife or perhaps the mother of his children- not even a time in which he got to live freely. To be just Ajax and not Childe, the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui. Nothing. There was nothing and perhaps it is selfish thinking- his family still lives but will they still adore him when they learn of his horrific deed- of what his job genuinely costs.

“ I ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ, ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ..”

The screams were so painful that no one could bare to look for long, the cries so devastating others felt its harsh pangs in their chests. He cried like he was being tortured- cradled her head and damned the very skies for taking something so precious- something that was not for it to take- someone that deserved better.

The people of Liyue granted him the mercy of time with her. His only true gift from those he hurt. They felt the sincerity in his regret and pain.

Hours felt like mere seconds to him and in the setting sun the cold finally dug its claws into him. He could feel the blood in his throat and the raw sting in his eyes. His freezing fingers had to be pried from her lifeless body and still he begged. He pleaded for everything to be a lie- a cruel prank to get him to see how horrible that was of him.

How could she be the only fatality in all this- surely there were others on the water? Her little boat was not the only one out there. Not to say he wished the same fate of other innocents but... did it have to be only her? In the very boat he gifted her when he learned how she adored to just... exist in the middle of the ocean for a short time. To take in the salty air from its source and take in the scenery the archons gifted its people to see.

In the same boat that was now in pieces along various shores and in the unrelenting depths of the ocean. Lost to him forever, just like her.

Her sweet laughter from that day still haunts him, “I’ll believe you if you promise to go out to sea with me when you get back.”, she had said, bargaining with him as if she actually ever needed to. She could tell him to jump and he would have asked her how high.

‘I love you, Ajax. Be safe.’

So, he promised- crossed his heart and hoped to die. Then when would that debt be paid? How long must he wait to be in her presence again?

“ Aɴɢᴇʟs ғᴀʟʟ, ɪᴛ’s ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴜʟᴛ..”  

The picture painted of her for that day pierced through what was left of his now dead heart. He meant no offense to the artist, but it did no true justice for her. It did not encapsulate her like his cruel mind did. Her eyes felt lacking- the expression was so.. unreal. Yet, silent tears felt all the same.

This was it. He must let her go for good. This is all real- too real. His breathing becomes labored and soon he is doing his best to silently sob. Her painting becomes blurred and, in the midst,... it looks as though she is crying with him. Somehow.

‘You know I’ll always love you, right?’

“ Gᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ. ᴡᴇ’ʟʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ...”

“Traveler...”, he begins, “Do we have to do this every time? You know what I want... stop denying me for the sake of your own morals... please..”

The outlander looks at him, pity in the swirls of gold staring into his dull blue hues, “You know I can’t, Childe..”

He laughs bitterly, ignoring the way it hurts to do so, “You can- c’mon, it’s not that hard. Your sword is sharp enough. One good blow-”

“You need to move on somehow- take a break and grieve properly stop asking me-”

“Move on? Move on? I am a murderer- I killed her- I deserve to-”, he starts, voice growing angry and so very sad.

“You didn’t do it on purpose. You didn’t want her to...go.”, the outlander says, pools of gold growing brighter in concern, staring upon his form in the ground.

Childe was a mess of sweat and blood, on his back staring up at another whom he deceived, begging to be put out of his misery. Shamelessly so.

He laughs again, this time with a ragged breath, “It should never have been her- it should have been me. It was always supposed to be me first.”, he’s crying now, he’s sure of it. It always turned out this way, usually the tears are left out, “I was never- I never... she was never supposed to even be hurt because of me. Traveler I... I loved her so much- I still love her. I can’t let go- please. I’m begging you- please. End it- end me..”

There was no answer, just silence. There was no saving him and as painful as it was, the wandering traveler left him there on the ground. He never saw this traveler again. In the back of his mind he always wonders if the sibling was found. Was the journey fulfilled- was there a happy ending?

He hopes so. No one deserves to suffer loss in any way.

“I miss you..”, he whispers into the sky, knowing she resides somewhere far past the clouds.

The calm waves of the sea gently rock him in this small boat. There is only one destination for him. He is no longer welcome anywhere else. No one has said so, but he feels it within his soul. A piece is missing, and he will find it once more, one way or another.

“I’m coming home.. I hope you didn’t wait long..”, he says as the blackened clouds start to surround him. The sea below him darkens and he can feel the static of danger in the tense air. The waves start to come alive and he hopes they finally swallow him entirely.

This time, he hopes he will not be found by a pitying soul.

“ Tɪᴍᴇ ɢᴏᴇs ᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ..”

[agent-cupcake]

yuri with yandere prompt number eight? i feel like thats the most accurate for him

This ask is old but I’m never gonna quit these yandere prompts. Try and stop me. (aka, here’s 5k of unhealthy pining and Yuri “I want to confess my love but I don’t feel like I deserve you” Leclerc)

//

A sharp, frightened gasp was what pulled you awake. Terror gripped your thoughts as a memory overrode all rational thought —the scent of tread packed filth and chalky, tangy, sharp stone filling your nose with each shallow, bloody, gasping breath. Cold, cutting gravel scraping against your cheek, your scalp, the sharp pebbles embedded into your skin with the force with which you had hit the ground. You couldn’t move, couldn’t fight your collapsed chest into expanding for air to fill your lungs. Escape, you had to escape, that was the only real, solid understanding in your dazed brain as you struggled against the blankets.

But then you blinked a few times, your eyes rolling as you focused them, and realized that was nothing more than a dream. You were safe. Sore, uncomfortable, in an unfamiliar bed and wearing unfamiliar clothes, but safe. And confused, still entangled in the cotton fog of unconsciousness.

You had been… Where had you been? Your head was foggy, your thoughts blurry, almost enough to convince you that you were dreaming. If only you weren’t so uncomfortable. Something was wrong, more than just being sick. There had been… Blood? Pain?

Agony. A blunt, overwhelming ache that had slammed against the entire right side of your body when you hit the ground. A whine had escaped your mouth alongside a glob of bloody saliva. The pain was all-consuming. You could remember that in the same second the pain registered so did the panic of knowing that you were going to be sick right there on the street. Nausea had seized your stomach and you had been helpless to its violent, urgent, undulating undertow. Rocks cut into your palms as you wrenched yourself up to avoid choking as you sputtered and heaved and coughed out the acidic bile. When you blinked, your sight clearing from a dozen fragmented frames into a single dizzy, tear-blurred picture, all you saw was blood. Blood in the watery puddle on the ground, scarlet staining your side, oozing up between your fingers as you pressed a panicked hand against the slash across your ribs as if that would force the blood back where it belonged.  

But there was no blood now. No wounds to validate that terrible living nightmare.

Everything came flooding back into your mind as your thoughts cleared up. You remembered accepting Lev’s offer to ignore Yuri’s orders and perform a secretive strike on an opposing gang. You remembered going along with the plan and taking the dangerous role of getting everyone into the Vanargand base despite the risk. You remembered nearly died in the escape.

You remembered thinking that you were dead. In that moment of laying on the street in a puddle of your own blood, you had clung to the pathetic thought that you didn’t want to die. Even though you already had, you didn’t want to betray Yuri in this way, too. He didn’t want you involved in any of this, he did everything he could to keep you out of it. He promised your brother, he made a vow. But even that tragic, horrible thought had become cloudy as cold disseminated ice throughout your body, piercing all the way into the marrow of your bones and numbing your limbs, pulling you closer into the creeping void. That was the last of what you could remember.

Now, the only remaining evidence of your brush with death was the bruised shades of puce plum and rotten currant covering the entire right side of your body. Someone had used white magic to heal the direst of your wounds. Presumably, the same someone who had saved you. You were pretty sure you knew exactly who that someone was, too.

Your hero.

Yuri Leclerc with his violet eyes and smiling mouth and sweeping, dramatic cape who came to you after your brother’s death and told you of the promise he’d made as his boss and friend. Yuri Leclerc, the nearly mythical Underground Lord, the unaging Savage Mockingbird. Your hero, your knight in armor of shadow and subterfuge. He promised that he would protect you. And he had saved you. Again.

With a soft groan, you turned from laying on your back to your mostly uninjured left side. The bed was comfortable enough, better than your own. The room was smaller than yours, however, easily lit up by just a single lamp. By all standards, it was far from lavish, but you were covered in a thick comforter with two pillows plumped beneath your head. The four-poster frame was made of an attractively dark solid wood that matched the bedside table, writing desk, and chair. It looked an awful lot like the impersonal room of an inn, although there were clear signs that someone lived in here. Books and paper and feather pens were stacked on the desk, a glass rainbow of bottles lined up on the shelf above, a colorful swath of clothes on the rack.

Most telling was the way that the room, the bedding, and the clothes you wore all smelled like Yuri. An intoxicating embrace of spring rose and lilac, plush amber musk, and heady sweet vanilla. Achingly familiar, desirable, wonderful. Now it just made you sick. While the previous day’s actions could make a case for your intellectual deficiencies, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where you were. You groaned softly, closing your eyes.

Yuri was going to be mad. You had justified following Lev before by telling yourself that if the job went off without a hitch, Yuri would be so impressed with your skills that he would have no choice but to recognize you as a member of his gang and stop coddling you. Now you realized that it was and always had been an act of petty rebellion. Yuri would never respect your reckless disregard for his orders and your own life, not even if it had gone well.

Which it hadn’t. You had no idea what had gone wrong, you had performed your task without any problems, getting the small group of men into the compound without alerting any guards. Your brother had done well in teaching you to sneak around. But then there was complete and utter chaos and they all came running back as the compound was eaten up by flames, your so-called friends leaving you stranded on the top of the wall with a group of Vanargand men. So you jumped.

Even your vague recall of that particular agony made you wince, your stomach churning unhappily.

The sound of someone outside the door made your heart jump, your eyes instinctually closing to feign sleep. Maybe if you seemed like you were sleeping you could spare yourself a lecture. Or worse, his disappointment. The doorknob turned, the wood creaking, the metal hinges making the faintest squeak as they were pushed. You held your breath.

But nobody came in, stopping in response to the approaching sound of another, heavier set of footsteps. “Glad to see you back in one piece,” Yuri greeted whoever it was. With the door cracked the way it was, you could hear him quite clearly. His voice was friendly, matching the smile he must have been wearing, but it was sharp, too. You knew that tone, recognized the danger it hid. “I figured it would be you who led this little rebellion.”

“Rebellion?” Lev asked. “I acted for all of us. The Vanargand boys won’t be an issue anymore.”

Yuri laughed. Although the sound was oddly genuine, nobody could miss the fact that he was making fun of Lev. “You really believe that?” he asked, his voice lilting with disbelief.

Lev grunted, you could imagine his scowl. He scowled a lot. “If you knew what we did to them, you wouldn’t laugh.”

“All you did was kick the hornet’s nest,” Yuri said, unimpressed, “while ignoring my orders to standby.”

“I came here to tell you that I think things should change around here, I think-”

“I don’t actually care what you think,” Yuri said, cutting him off calmly. His tone was deadly smooth, dripping with the unique threat of his friendly malice. “I expect you to be out of here by the time the sun rises. That gives you, what, four hours? Plenty of time.”

“What?” Lev asked, his bravado faltering.

“Leave my city,” Yuri told him. “And pray that I never see you again.”

“You can’t kick me out,” Lev said. “Not after all I’ve done for you, for the gang.”

“No?” Yuri asked. “You directly disobeyed my orders and put my men at risk for the sake of your own ego. I’d say that’s a pretty good reason to lose any and all trust I ever had in you.”

“The Vanargand Street Gang have been a pain in the ass for too long,” Lev told him, his tone growing combative. “I decided to do something about it.”

“I had them under control,” Yuri said. “without stooping to such boorish and dangerous methods.”

Lev responded with a mocking bark of a laugh. “Nah, this is about the girl, isn’t it? You should know that she all but begged me to take her along. If you wanna talk about trust, maybe consider why your precious little pet would disobey you.”

You froze, a cold, nervous sweat beading up at the nape of your neck, anxious nausea once again closing in your throat. Either unfortunately or fortunately, Yuri breezed right past that comment as if it didn’t affect him in the slightest. “This has nothing to do with her,” Yuri said without missing a beat. “If you don’t think I’m a fit leader, challenge my authority directly. But I’m warning you. Think carefully about what you do next. Right now, I’m relieved enough that nobody was seriously hurt by your incompetence that I’m willing to let you go with nothing more than a warning.” His voice lowered dangerously, forcing you to strain slightly to make it out. There was no playful teasing injected into these words, no way to interpret them as anything other than naked intimidation. “Don’t mistake my benevolence for weakness, you won’t live to regret it.”

A long moment of tense silence passed between the two men. You could imagine Lev’s storming rage, Yuri’s cool demeanor. You didn’t dare move, afraid that either would hear and unsure which was worse. The moment was broken only by another set of thumping, rhythmic footsteps cresting up the stairs. There was only one man who could possibly make that much noise.

“I heard shouting. I’m not missing the party, am I?” Balthus asked. While there was nothing directly antagonistic about the man’s voice, there was no mistaking the threat he posed. There was a reason he was Yuri’s right-hand man.

“No,” Yuri said. “Lev and I are simply having a… Disagreement.”

“Oh yeah?” Balthus asked. “Anything I should weigh in on?”

“That depends,” Yuri said. “What do you say, Lev?”

“Damn you, Leclerc.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Yuri asked, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I’m already damned.”

There was another moment of silence, almost long enough to make you wonder if the trio had somehow disappeared, before Lev swore under his breath and retreated past Yuri and Balthus, his feet pounding a cadenced thump, thump, thump as he stalked down the stairs.

“Balthus,” Yuri said when Lev’s footsteps were completely lost. “Would you mind making sure our friend makes it out of the city without doing anything reckless?”

“Think he might?” Balthus asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Yuri responded, his voice was more honest than with Lev. He sounded tired. “I sure as hell didn’t think he would make a move like this just yet.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Balthus paused. “What, uh, should I do if he tries anything?”

“Take him to the Vanargand. I’m sure they’ll be hunting him down regardless.”

Balthus whistled. “That’s pretty cold, boss.”

“It’s far better than he deserves,” Yuri said, his voice dark. “If she died, I…”

“No need to explain. I get it, pal,” Balthus said, saving Yuri from having to continue. As badly as you didn’t want to know what Yuri was going to say, you very desperately did, too. “I’ll make sure he stays in line. You look like you could use some rest. Or a drink.”

Yuri laughed, the sound a bit lighter than before. “You might be right about that.”

“Of course I am,” Balthus said. “You don’t live as long as I have without catching wise to these things. I’ll be off, then.”

“Good luck,” Yuri said, “and don’t do anything stupid. There’s only so much I can handle in one night.”

“Hah!” Balthus called, trampling right back down the hallway. “That big brain of yours will burst into flames if you keep on worrying about everything, pal. Better call it quits before you ruin that cute face with wrinkles.” Yuri laughed.

Realizing that Balthus leaving would mean Yuri would finally enter the room, you threw the blankets off of yourself and sat up. It hurt like hell, it felt like every single inch of your body was bruised, right down to the bone, but it was doable after the sickening dizziness passed.

You didn’t particularly want to get up, but you didn’t want to stick around and have the conversion you knew Yuri would start, either.

The way Yuri worried made your chest clench. You didn’t dare name it discomfort, but the feeling was awfully close. It was Yuri’s growing intensity that you noticed first. The way he’d get when other men got too close to you, the pointed questions he’d ask about your interactions with other people. How he worried when you had to travel or interact with people he didn’t trust, insisting that you tell him every single detail about what you were doing. Worse, the times when he seemed to know things he shouldn’t, things you didn’t tell him.

It was because of the promise he had made to your brother, he said, to keep you safe. Yuri valued the men under his command, and your brother had been a close comrade of his. And you bought it at first because your brother had always been protective, but Yuri’s behavior was different. He wasn’t your brother, but neither did you get the impression you were friends. Friends weren’t suffocatingly overprotective. Not friends, but not anything more, either. He never flirted with you as he did with everybody else, as he had before. Not even in a playful, teasing way. The tighter hold he kept on you, the more and more he maintained a distance.

Lev called you Yuri’s precious pet, and that struck too close to home. You hated it. You weren’t a child —you weren’t even a teenager anymore— and yet Yuri acted like you were made of glass. Like you couldn’t be trusted to look after yourself, like you were… Like you were a pet.

That’s why you had agreed to Lev’s job in the first. You wanted to change the dynamic the two of you had. You figured that if he saw that you weren’t as weak as he feared, that you were just as capable as the men in his gang, that he’d stop being so intensely and oppressively protective. But if he was willing to give Lev up to the torture the Vanargand gang would inflict on him for the sin of endangering you, you didn’t think it had been at all effective. Actually, it made sense that your near-death and horrible failure would have the opposite effect.

Steading yourself, you searched the room for your shoes. Someone, and you didn’t dare to think of who, had changed you into what you were pretty sure were Yuri’s clothes. While it made sense considering your own were probably nothing more than blood soaked rags, you weren’t incredibly comfortable with wearing his things. The smell alone was nearly overwhelming, but the level of intimacy it implied was something you didn’t dare consider. Even worse that you should wake up in his bed. His bed that was obviously big enough for two people, a bed that he had probably had company in because he was attractive and desirable and… And you couldn’t find your shoes.

“What are you doing?” Yuri asked. The door shut behind him, the metal latch clicking.

It occurred to you that while you’d been having a micro-meltdown, Yuri had probably been standing there watching.

“Leaving,” you responded, trying to maintain a neutral expression despite the way your voice cracked. That brave attempt fell apart with the way you burst into a coughing fit a moment later, hacking up sharp bursts of air against your scratched up throat, each breath sending aching pulses of pain against your bruised side.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Yuri scolded, rushing to the bedside table to pour you some water. So considerate, always. Guilt rose up within you. After he saved you, how could you be so rude and ungrateful? You knew he cared. He was your hero.

You averted your streaming eyes and took a few slow, careful sips from the cup as Yuri took a seat on the desk chair, sitting the wrong way with his arms draped over the chair’s back.

“Drink this, too,” he said, handing you a vial. You uncapped it to take a sniff it, wincing at the astringent scent.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’ll help with the pain,” he said. You nodded, grateful for the idea of that, and pinched your nose to down the vial. It was exactly as disgusting as it smelled. At the very least, it wiped the smell of Yuri from your head for a spell. “You should lay back down,” he recommended. “Magic can only do so much to heal your wounds. Not to mention that you’ve had a hell of a shock. Honestly, after what happened, I’m surprised you managed to get upright. You’re full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?”

The implication, the reminder of what you’d done in such a banal tone, made you wince. Guilt or shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know. “I’m fine,” you said, staring at the floor rather than meet his eyes.

“It’s cute that you can say that with a straight face,” Yuri said. “Seriously, you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled sarcastically, an instinctually petulant reaction to the way he treated you, “But I really am capable of taking care of myself.”

He didn’t even grace that with a serious answer, rolling his eyes. “Obviously.”

“I can’t stay here,” you said.

“You can,” Yuri told you, “and you will. You’ve lost a lot of blood and I don’t need a dead body on my doorstep. It’s bad for business.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Yuri said. You met his eyes, frowning as you tried to figure out what he was thinking, what he was feeling. He sighed, likely reading the further arguments you were going to make in the way you looked at him. “I’ve had a long night dealing with your mess. Stop being a fool and do what I say.” “Or what?” you muttered, looking away again as you fought against the guilt. He didn’t own you, you weren’t even one of his men. He couldn’t order you around.

“Or I’ll make you,” Yuri said bluntly. “I doubt that’ll pleasant for either of us.”

That answer sent a shiver down your spine, whatever complaints you had been trying to maintain drying up on your tongue because you kind of believed him. His cold, cruel tone of voice when dealing with Lev was still all too clear in your mind. Besides, he was right. He was usually right. That didn’t help the terrible sensation of being treated like a child, like an invalid.

Avoiding his eyes, you set aside your cup and did what he said, tucking your feet back under the covers, leaning down against the pillows. It was a lot easier on your aching side, better for the splitting headache gathered up behind your right temple.

“Did you save me?” you asked after a moment, staring at the quilted pattern.

“Yeah,” Yuri responded, his voice unreadable.

“And you healed me?”

“What do you think?”

It had been a dumb question. You couldn’t imagine Yuri letting anyone else see that much of your bare skin to heal those wounds. All the same. “You don’t have to be rude, I was just clarifying,” you told him with a frown.

“Right, right, sorry. I just about forgot myself,” Yuri said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “What I meant was that I was the one who rushed to your rescue and healed your wounds, fair maiden. Is that better?”

You frowned, refusing to be amused by his antics. Despite the joking tone Yuri took, those words set you on edge. He hardly ever teased you like that anymore, now it just felt off. “Who changed my clothes?”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Yuri asked. Was there amusement in his tone? At your embarrassment? You could feel that your cheeks were hot and hoped desperately that he couldn’t tell. “Well,” he shrugged apologetically, “it’s not like I had much of a choice and I couldn’t put you to bed in dirty clothes…” Yuri looked up to meet your horrified eyes, smiling. “Kidding. I do have some honor. I asked the landlady to help me out. Your virtue is intact.”

Virtue. You swallowed hard on that word, drinking the last of the water. Your thoughts were beginning to fuzz, becoming less clear. It made it harder to refocus after being caught off guard by his teasing. The pain wasn’t as crisp, more of a background ache rather than an insistent thud. That was distracting, too. You knew that, for some reason, he wanted to fluster you. But you couldn’t let him distract you, nor could you let your embarrassment deter you. So, clenching your fists, you looked up and met his eyes.

“Thank you for saving me,” you said carefully. “I’m… I’m sorry for inconveniencing you.”

Yuri didn’t answer right away, staring you down in his unnervingly piercing way. The intensity of his eyes was uncomfortable, but it was undercut with the swirling storm of concern amidst the individual strands of purple pigment, the void-like pool of pupil. “I’m glad you’re alive,” he said carefully. And that was honest, genuine. He looked so tired. He sounded tired.

“I owe you. Twice, for saving me and healing me,” you said, forcing the words out in as business-like of a tone as you could manage. They were slurred, slightly. Had he given you a sedative? Or was this just normal exhaustion finally taking you out? “So tell me how you would like to be repaid, and I’ll see that it’s done.”

Yuri’s head fell to the side in confusion, like the question threw him off guard. Good. “Excuse me, what?”

“That’s how it is in your world,” you replied. “Our world. Right?”

“Our world?” Yuri asked, his expression retreating into a mask.

“The real world. Altruism doesn’t exist. When someone does something for you, there’s always a price. If I want to be taken seriously, I can’t keep being naïve about that.”

“That’s pretty cynical of you.” Was it just you or did he sound sad about that fact?

“You taught me well.”

“Not well enough,” he said, frowning as his eyes lingered on the bruises. He sighed. “So, I take it that that’s why you went? You want to be taken seriously?”

“Yes,” you said slowly, surprised that he’d be able to cut to the heart of it so quickly. Then again, it shouldn’t have been that surprising. Yuri was all too good at that.

“Word to the wise,” Yuri told you. “Never act unless success is guaranteed. If you want to be taken seriously, you have to have results to show for it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said.

“And another thing,” Yuri added. “Never give out open ended favors. Not even to people you trust. You might not like it when they call to collect.”

“But I know you wouldn’t want anything bad from me,” you said, frowning and unsure if he was implying what you thought he was. He couldn’t be, not Yuri. Not to you.

“Is that a fact?” he asked. “I could be helping you simply to get one of those incredibly enticing open favors. Now I’ve got two of them, I wonder what I could ask for…”

“I’m being serious,” you said.

“You think I’m not?” Yuri smiled at you like he knew all the secrets in the world, like you’d never catch him without the trickster’s mask or even guess at what he had hidden beneath. But then your reply was eaten by a mostly stifled yawn that tugged hard at your sore jaw and all pretense fell away to the concerned expression you knew so well from him. “Alright, enough of that. You look like you’re about to pass out. Get some sleep. I’ll watch over you, yeah?” he offered, flipping the chair around so he could sit directly at the bedside.

You couldn’t argue with that, yawning again. It hit you all at once, it seemed. You were passing out, the need for sleep becoming more and more pressing with each breath. “Next time,” you told him, your words slurring like a drunk as you settled further down into the bed. Your body felt so heavy, the colors of the room smoothing out like butter, the smell that clung to the bedding and the clothes filling you with warmth. “Next time for sure, I’ll show you. Then I won’t owe you-” you yawned, again. This time you just gave up. He definitely had given you a sedative. Unfortunately, you were too far gone to be mad. Sleeping would be nice anyway. You were so tired.

“There won’t be a next time,” Yuri told you. There was something absolute in his tone, a hard edge that wasn’t to be questioned.

“Why?” you asked, trying to clench your fists to remain lucid for a moment longer. This question was important, important enough for you to fight against your heavy and scattered thoughts. “Why do you care... so much?”

“I don’t know,” Yuri said, his voice threadbare and exposed. He really looked so tired, so beautiful. He had more masks than anyone, but right then you didn’t think that it was a mask.

He didn’t know either.

Where did that leave you?

Floating, it seemed. Lavender and milk and shadow blurred in your vision, the colors of Yuri. Your eyes fluttered shut, filled with a kaleidoscope of him. The pain was gone, you couldn’t even find the passion to argue or to be mad or afraid or upset. It was enough to be safe, to be with him, to be warm.

Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow you would get answers.

“You remind me of something I lost a long time ago,” Yuri said after a moment. It would have been too much to open your eyes or respond, so you just listened, marveling at the way his voice created the words, the way it caressed them. Had you really never noticed how delicious his voice was? You could lose yourself in it, you thought. “Something even I can’t steal for myself,” Yuri continued, “something more precious than a Heroes Relic. As long as I can preserve that, I can live with the consequences.”

You didn’t fight when he grabbed your hand from where it had fallen on the comforter, pulling it up into both of his. Yuri’s hands were rough, his fingers narrow and long and nice. They were scarred and bloodstained. They held yours gently, tenderly.

“Heh, maybe I’m a coward to tell you now. I doubt you’ll remember this by tomorrow.”

“I’ll remember,” you mumbled mindlessly, your eyes remaining closed. How could you forget this warmth? The beauty of the colors in your head, the feeling of his touch.

Yuri pressed his cheek against your hand. The skin was soft, warm. “Maybe you will. You certainly deserve my honesty. But after tonight... Maybe it’s too late to anyway. I tried so hard to protect you, even from myself.” He laughed, a humorless puff of air against your knuckles. “Especially from myself. Sometimes I can’t help but think that it’s inevitable that everything and everyone who becomes close to me will be stained by the association. I didn’t want to see that shine in your eyes become dull. This cruel, cynical world destroys everything of value, but not you.” He paused, thinking. You drifted, the words rolling over you without sticking, without meaning. His voice was so lovely. “But you’re wrong, you know,” Yuri continued after a while, pulling you back. “Things done out of love don’t have a price. You don’t owe me anything, you never have.”

Yuri’s lips brushed over your knuckles, a kiss over each ridge, before one of his hands untangled itself. You leaned into the feeling of his calloused fingertips on your warm cheek, pushing your hair out of the way as they caressed your face. Even in your vague stupor, the touch was enough to make your eyes open. Half-lidded, your sight hazy. Yuri glowed in the candlelight.

A smile tugged at the corner of his pink lips, a melancholic expression. So sad. Did he always look so sad? So beautiful? It made your heart ache, a hollow, faraway feeling.

“Hey,” he said, meeting your eyes. You attempted a smile in return, a dozing, drunken, delirious smile. “If I told you tomorrow that I loved you, would you take me as I am?” You hummed. A yes, maybe, no. He was still stroking your face, holding your hand. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been touched like this. Not since you were a child, you didn’t think. So nice, so soft. “That’s the problem, I don’t know. And I… I don’t act unless victory is assured. If I make a move and lose you for good…” He squeezed your hand, his eyes closing. “I don’t want to lose you. Not to the whims of the cruel world and not by corrupting you with my black heart.” Your eyes closed again, his words becoming lost in your fascination with his voice. Yuri’s fingers left your cheek, returning to wrap around your hand. “Even if can never have you,” he said, a soft resolution in his voice, “it’ll be okay as long as you’re safe. And I know that you’ll be safe as long as you stay with me.”

[themurphyzone]

This post is a combination of the 90s PatB alongside the reboot’s Ep 13. Spoilers below. 

So...I was certainly not expecting a flashback in this ep. Great usage of the ‘everyone asks how, but no one ever asks why’ question by Pinky. 

No matter the adaptation, Brain is always presented as a mouse with a pathological need for control because he sorely lacked it as a young mouse. When he loses that control, whether in this episode with being locked in a car and taken on a road trip against his will, or in other episodes with different situations, he’ll lose control of himself, the very thing he’s trying to avoid. 

Anyways, the flashback presented in this episode can reasonably fit with the origin episodes in the 90s PatB, so I’m gonna try and present these in an order that can fit together, so let’s start off with Leggo My Ego, shall we? 

Anyway, Brain starts life as an innocent field mouse. Ain’t he the cutest little thing you’d ever see? 

Um...hey guys, maybe we could let the cute mouse baby blow a feather around and be happy? 

Nope...oof. Time to begin a life of trauma. 

He’s a babey.... He needs hugs! How do you people not have sympathy for him??????

So basically, the 90s cartoon presents several origins and some of them are more contradictory than others. I believe Leggo My Ego and The Visit are the only episodes that mention Brain was originally a wild mouse captured by humans, but it’s generally the most widely accepted origin for him.

In Leggo My Ego, Freud notes that Brain’s desire for world domination appears to be a subconscious desire to return to the simple life he once led. 

So..let’s bring in Snowball now. 

In this post, I’m trying to be chronological here. In this flashback, Brain describes how he and Snowball were once very close and how he could always make Snowball laugh. 

Brain and Snowball grew up together, and Brain genuinely cared about Snowball, even into adulthood when the two became enemies. 

They went through the gene splicer together after an experiment gone wrong. The gene splicer exploded and supposedly messed with Snowball’s mind. 

Snowball did something that caused him to get kicked out of ACME Lab. The rift became permanent, though what was the exact cause or if clashing ambitions fueled it is unknown. 

This event left a permanent mark on Brain, and Pinky himself had never heard about Snowball until he tried to steal one of Brain’s schemes. 

But anyway, the exact timeline of the splicing and the break in friendship is unknown. So...I think this flashback in the reboot’s Ep 13: Roadent Trip might fill one of the blanks in on an event that might’ve occurred during Brain’s time with Snowball, before he met Pinky. 

Alright, so for this post’s sake, I’m going to present the new flashback as if it took place shortly after Brain’s splicing with Snowball. I’m also going to disregard the 90s PatB episode Project BRAIN, because there’s stronger canon evidence that Brain was born in the wild and that he grew up with Snowball. However, I do enjoy keeping that Brain named Pinky. 

Anyways, that’s enough for the introduction. Grab your tissues if you haven’t already. 

Pinky: “You’re always trying to work out how to take over the world, but you’ve never told me why you want to take over the world, Brain.” 

*moment of silence*

Pinky: “Brain?” 

Brain: “If I answer this, you’ll let me expire in peace?” 

Honestly, a GIF would do Brain’s reaction justice, because he doesn’t outright dismiss Pinky’s question. He’s more hesitant because he realizes this moment is going to lead to a heart to heart talk, something he’d rather not engage in. And you know what? I can’t recall any instance of Brain admitting to Pinky about why he wanted to take over the world, just how or that he was going to do it with this particular plan. 

I think this correlates well with Leggo My Ego above; that Brain doesn’t reflect on the ultimate driving force behind his actions, just that he wants it and he’s going to somehow get it. If he does have a moment of clarity, he always dismisses it and goes right back to the drawing board. 

And most importantly, that he just wants love and respect. Does he create his own misery? Yes. But at the same time, he’s sadly a product of the combination of human curiosity and ignorance. 

So...I deeply apologize for this tangent real quick before I move onto the rest of this post. 

*takes deep breath* 

LOOK AT THIS BABY HE’S SUCH A CUTIE I WANNA HUG HIM SO BAD HE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS CRAP YOU WILL LOOK AT HIM AND YOU WILL LOVE HIM 

Okay, so like I said before, due to his head shape and how he seems to display early cognitive abilities here, I honestly think the best timeframe for this would be sometime in the 90s, just after his and Snowball’s splicing. Again, Brain was ultimately a child in Snowball, but since he’s the one narrating, we’re led to assume he set his sights on the world right away. 

Actually, it seems more likely that while Brain’s capacity for knowledge was enhanced, he still had to make the effort to learn. What he knows as an adult didn’t come all at once. So here, he has cognition, but he’s still fairly optimistic because the weight of the world truly hasn’t set in yet. 

Alright, so my explanation is that Snowball was elsewhere in the lab, and that they’re simply separated for the day. Brain was lifted out of an experiment with other mice, and placed directly into a solo study. 

The scientists place a huge slice of cheese on a stun plate, with the intention that Brain will be shocked if he tries to go for the cheese. Of course, who would be able to resist having this much food placed in front of them? I certainly wouldn’t. 

But the moment he tries to go for the cheese, he gets shocked. But since he’s very much learning, he doesn’t understand why he gets shocked if he steps on the plate. 

It’s this pose that makes me believe he’s spliced at this point. Brain adopts that thinking pose well into adulthood. However, he doesn’t really have a plan. He just thinks he’ll succeed if he goes for it enough times, much like the world. 

Also, compare his tail shape between this photo and the one above it. Rather fitting for it to be a lightning bolt, is it not? Mice tails do get kinked in real life if handled improperly, which is very much the case here too. 

Scientist 1: “The idea is that once we remove the electronic stimulus, he still won’t go for the cheese.” 

Scientist 2: “Learned helplessness.”  

And sadly...their hypothesis is proven correct. 

And the thing is, Brain does recognize that the shock is turned off. He does learn that he shouldn’t touch the plate. So he tries once more...

And stops. 

Even with the cheese’s proximity, it’s still unattainable. The only thing that holds Brain back is himself. He wants the cheese, but he’ll get hurt if he tries to go for it. So...despite there being no obvious danger, Brain doesn’t go for it again. 

Learned Helplessness Wikipedia Page Link

This could potentially be the moment where Brain finally loses his innocence. He has to control everything because the moment he doesn’t...he’ll get shocked. 

Notice how everything Brain’s ever wanted at any stage is always in close proximity to himself? In Leggo My Ego, he was extremely close to his parents and the tin can upon capture. In Snowball, he clearly desired companionship, but he and Snowball were never in the same cage. In this flashback, the cheese is ripe for the taking with the shock turned off, and he doesn’t try again. 

Brain is able to learn. And he learns that the world is cruel, that he’s only an interesting specimen for science with no autonomy of his own. He learns that he has to be in control to stop hurting so much.  

“From that day hence, I vowed I would be the one in control. Of myself, of my surroundings, of the world. Yet again, here I am, totally helpless.” 

Okay, I swear this wasn’t intentional and I didn’t notice this until I made this post, but look at how similar the final pose in the flashback and Brain’s pose in this shot are. 

That in some ways, Brain is still that child with simple desires. Maybe he phrases them differently, but that’s what it ultimately boils down to.  

And from Brain’s emotionally charged delivery of the above line, this experience was so traumatic that he kept it hidden for two decades. 

And while the cheese is supposed to represent how he can’t obtain the world despite living in it, I think there’s another thing that went unstated. It also happens to represent: 

Pinky is the cheese. Brain won’t step on a stun plate if he tries to touch Pinky. Rather, Pinky will welcome any affectionate gesture with open arms. 

But Brain believes he’ll be hurt if he tries. The humans set the precedent. Desire affection, desire love, you’ll get hurt, they taught him. 

The only thing holding Brain back is himself. 

And it’s absolutely tragic.

Be like Pinky. Give Brain a hug.   

If you’ll excuse me, Imma go cry. 

[saudade-mayari]

I don’t blame people who says Aizawa is a bad teacher or a hypocrite, but you’re an account that I am comfortable sharing this because you also love eraser head. (It’s okay if you don’t want to post it)

Even Aizawa admitted to himself that he is a terrible teacher and mostly forced to teach as based on the vigilantes manga where Nemuri recommended Shota to be a teacher, but what he did to DEKU is somehow relevant for me.

Yes it is true that during the first part he hated Izuku’s guts and regarded him as having no potential but Aizawa was also testing the kid because whichever way watchers should know, Aizawa is right on the fact that Izuku just can’t attack recklessly and impulsively after having such destructive quirk. He did not disregard Izuku’s quirk, he is merely testing the kid to find his other resolve. As for Bakugo’s case Aizawa truly had a hard time disciplining him but he is watching him closely like what Mitsuki (Bakugo’s mom) said, so when All Might took tutelage of Midoriya (and Bakugo) he had no objections because as a HOMEROOM teacher, All Might is the best training for Izuku’s quirk (which is relatively passed onto him)

He is never a hypocrite for teaching Shinso. I don’t see anything wrong about that because I really understand that some training teachers have their own prodigy and he’s a homeroom teacher all he is accountable off is the overlooking at the their hero training which he did well because he focused on the student individual’s strength in the summer camp.

Aizawa also mentioned in a chapter in manga (254) why he expelled students in the past. He knew his capability as a homeroom teacher and he himself knows that he is a terrible teacher hence, re-enrolled them to other school where they would work with a new homeroom teacher. Some may see it as escaping of “escaping duties” but I really think during that time, Aizawa was just thinking what he thinks is best for the students. Afterall, he had proven himself good in manga as someone who really cares for ALL THE STUDENTS.

Blaming Aizawa for the events in 1A is practically uncalled and irrelevant, might as well just say the entire UA should be held accountable. He just had a poor decision making most especially when the truth about Kurogiri is revealed. However, even though he is not the best teacher, I can safely say that Aizawa is a decent and good teacher.

v v v long post ahead

yes anon!!!!. not my biased self speaking... he is not as great as other teachers, but saying shouta is a terrible teacher is uncalled for. he is a decent prof for me. made some mistakes, helps his students. it’s decent.

i firmly believe aizawa and all might are better example as a pro hero than teachers.

(Gonna point some of his mistakes in my perspective as a former teacher under the cut)

he was strict for a reason but he showed his care for all the students during the fight in manga (not gonna say since its spoiler) even aizawa himself knows he is terrible at teaching but at least he is trying😂

i also heard fans saying that because momo, tenya and todoroki are from rich and well known prohero family aizawa never bothered to scold at them. AGAIN IT IS WRONG TO SAY THAT.

momo, iida and todoroki...yes rich and families are known for being heroes but they practically never did anything to trouble aizawa so why else bother them? during their test, aizawa gave advice for todoroki and momo which considerably helped them.

aizawa’s way of teaching is to give harsh critiques and let the student have their own resolve. but as a former student and teacher speaking, it is both right and wrong to have that approach.

it’s definitely okay to let them figure out their own resolve (HAPPENS A LOT IN MED SCHOOL PROFS ARE HARSH HUHU) but it is important to somehow give them base and foundation before actually figuring out their so-called own resolves. i think it’s what aizawa lacks the most AS A TEACHER. but then again his entire character build up clearly says he’s not for teaching.

he was also called a hypocrite for teaching shinso but they aren’t picking on all might for mostly focusing on deku nor endeavor only wanting to focus on shoto. it’s not wrong to have their own prodigies because at the very least aizawa helped overlook his students like what he did in the summer camp and like what all might did in student practicals.

not just aizawa but all might, endeavor, nighteye and even gran torino have personal decisions on closely training those selected kids

aizawa WAS the only teacher who called the entrance/admission test irrelevant for non-physical quirks. HE KNEW IT WAS A PROBLEM SO HE HELPED SHINSO TO BE ON HERO DEPARTMENT bc he know the kid’s opportunity to be a pro hero in the future. he experienced that himself, although his quirk is powerful it was completely non-physical that is why his and shinso’s ability are less likely to be recognized. coz i agree the quirk admission test was somehow iffy... there should have been psychological quirk test too but i understand the point where fans tell that “it’s a student’s job to take advantage of their quirk rather than complain in the disadvantages of having a non-physical quirk.”

I agree on that statement but as a former student myself, i think reconsiderations should have existed coz there are probably lots of great students in general course department (like shinsou).

—and tbh... aizawa and kakashi are often the teachers who are regarded as ‘terrible ones’ but i don’t think so.

im not gonna point out kakashi’s but im gonna say aizawa’s role as a homeroom teacher. back in highschool, ive homeschooled in japan for 2 yrs due to personal reasons and i can say that based on their culture in japan and asia countries in general have a different approach on homeroom teachers.

homeroom teachers in japan are technically the ones who overlook the students, ppl who argued that aizawa should train them is irrelevant because all might is their combat and hero training teacher. aizawa is not meant to teach, but rather supervise.

which is why aizawa (as the homeroom teacher) and all might (the hero training teacher) are the ones who had council with parents because technically, aizawa is responsible for the students safety. HOWEVER....

manga spoilers on the cut

some anti aizawa fans are totally wrong to blame everything in him for 1A always being in dangerous circumstances because after reading the on going manga, they have no damned idea AT FIRST who the league of villains is responsible of. THE ENTIRE UA SHOULD BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE, not just aizawa I agree on that anon.

for aizawa and the rest it is still a puzzle in the early, i repeat early chapters of the manga what the league is really after aside from killing all might and changing the system of pro heroes.

yes. I agree he had bad decisions on the victims, mainly Kurogiri because he knew it was his friend. He regarded Kurogiri as a ‘victim’ but somehow disregarded the casualties it caused. It was irrational for aizawa to say it like that coz it was obviously a word out of his feelings in the past. can’t blame him (imo) but it was truly irrational and irrelevant for him to say it like that.

there are times aizawa as a teacher just harshly criticized them and let them have their own resolve which is in fact, pretty harsh for a bunch of 15 year olds. but i think aizawa only wants them to have their own resolve since its what aizawa has been doing since episode 5.

i think it was bad for aizawa to let iida go where his brother was attacked, he should have acted upon it as a homeroom teacher to secure iida’s safety but then again, ITS FOR THE SAKE OF PLOT😂

im going to say this again... as a former teacher speaking, it is bad for aizawa just to give the students harsh critiques and letting them figure their own resolves.

it’s not a bad teaching approach BUT that kind of approach doesn’t work ALL THE TIME. sometimes, aizawa needs to teach the basics, base and foundation so the students would have an easier time to HAVE AN ACTUAL SOLUTION

because as a student for 9 years in pre and med school, it is definitely hard to make critical decisions WITHOUT being taught the foundation and base first.

it’s like aizawa not teaching an intern general surgery but letting them have their own decisions if the intern is gonna decide whether to lead the surgery or not.

his teaching approach is not bad but it doesn’t work all the time. as a teacher, pro hero and adult he needs to imply his own experience as well which where the erasure hero lacks. But then again it’s plot and aizawa’s introvert character build up so we can’t really blame him because they need the plot to keep going.

personally, aizawa’s main mistake is not knowing what to teach for the answers to questions the students are not expected to know from teaching answers to questions the students are expected to know.

if aizawa’s gonna be that perfect teacher and all, the show would have been boring😂

though aizawa did assessed on their quirks during summer training arc but i think it was not enough for the fans.

aizawa is much more better as a pro hero alone. he does his job perfectly as pro hero.

so in conclusion, i think aizawa needs to have seminar with me 🤪 im gonna teach my man the proper and basics of teaching. HAHAHAHA KIDDING 🤪 (lowkey not kidding)

[taekooktimeline]

December 31st, 2019 / January 1st, 2020

Following New Year’s Countdown, members take turns to talk about their resolutions. Tae says he wants to occupy himself with activities that heal his mind, although we understand it’s simply to maintain or - if possible - increase the level of happiness he experienced during 2019 as he said it was a happy year.

Jungkook interjects, interested in knowing whom he would do such activities with. If we go over prior events we can see that Tae had been going on trips with his family and various friends, including him & the wooga squad on a yacht, while Jk saw his own friends and relatives, complaining about Jhope and Jimin being the only members he had seen during their 1 month-long vacation on mid 2019, which could or could not be true, but if Taekook briefly saw each other they wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere outside an apartment. Jungkook could be bothered by this lack of private adventures and shared experiences (disregarding their variety shows). Wooga squad had also met up during Christmas Eve. Again, we don’t know if Tk spent some little time together or not.

Tae responds by saying there are many things that he can do alone. That answer doesn’t quite satisfy Jungkook who asks “not with us?”. It seems like Jungkook thought that they could be hanging out more than what they were and that Taehyung was going overboard with the closeting to the point of slightly distancing himself (although not reaching awkwardness like they later tried to sell).

Jungkook actually wrote a song that could give insight into this situation since it could have been written around this time. The Japanese demo was finished before March 2020 since it was first mentioned then, probably written only a few months before. Jk drew a big, artistic eye on a whiteboard on Dec 4th, which suggests he was already working on the songs’ adaptation to the Japanese film which gave it its name. This means he wrote the Korean version before December of 2019 and it had nothing to do with the pandemic. “Your Eyes Tell” talks about Jk being fearful of someone leaving him, even crying over it. He wants this person to believe him when he says that he wants a future with them no matter the hardships, even if he can’t say it out loud yet (meaning not ready to come out yet?) and his past demons haunt him sometimes (his lowest being late 2017/ early 2018). To believe him when he says that he finds this “darkness” to be beautiful if they are together. He says the world would be dull without the other and that he won’t take his eyes off of this person making sure that they don’t leave his side. If we assume this person to be Tae then, for whatever reason, Jk sensed that Tae was doubting Jk’s determination to keep going with their relationship, maybe due to the added difficulties that came with living in different apartments since around July 2019 and the weight of the prolonged closeting strategies. Jk may have interpreted the beginning of what seemed like a distancing as some sort of test where Tae gave him an easy way out or feared that if the situation progressed in this direction Tae would end up falling into thoughts that went something like “I should be the one to put an end to this for Jungkook’s sake” so he instead reassured him about his love through a ballad. It’s unclear whether Jk had real reasons to worry or he was just insecure about the changes in their relationship (living situation + heavier closeting = less private time together) and linking them to Tae’s past tendencies where he thought Jk would be better off without him.

Continuing with the topic, the night prior to this vlive Tae announced that he had recently written the first version of a song. It was written somewhere between the 14th & the 31st of December of 2019 and it seems like he was talking about “Sweet Night”, a song that was said to be completed by the start of March 2020 for the drama “Itaewon Class”. While we think that this song is based on Tae’s past experiences (finding common ground with the drama) from when he first realized he was deeply in love, unsure if the other still felt the same way, it was necessary for him to be able to relive the emotions he once felt, as he explained about his general creation process. The song tells that they had already crossed the line or grazed it at some points, but the sentence “are you my best friend?” & the part where he regrets realizing he’s in love only after the opportunity had passed are much more fitting to earlier in their relationship when things had never been labeled as romantic nor gotten serious, prior to an actual relationship ever ensuing which only happens at the end of the drama (not compatible with their mutual, unwavering gestures of love & compromise done throughout the previous years in addition to them “hiding” things like them sharing hotel room = having a serious relationship). The adaptation of Tae’s beloved webtoon inspired him to rediscover these emotions as it was also an opportunity to be part of an OST for a drama that his friend had a role in, but it also makes you wonder if he was truly in danger of going through the regression that Jk feared, Tae’s mind going back to the time they missed out on love. The song includes phrases such as “now my forever is falling down wondering if you’d want me now”, “I wonder if you are too good to be true” & “guess we were ships in the night” (meeting for a brief moment, or coming close to doing so, but then losing sight of each other due to the darkness). This last sentence is perhaps the most worrisome because it feels timeless, easily applicable to his musings at the time of writing, knowing they have to hold on tight to not part ways again because, as Jk reassuringly says in YET: “even this darkness we see is beautiful”.

”Sweet Night” opens with the lyrics “on my pillow/can’t get me tired/sharing my fragile truth”. On the 14th of December of 2019 Tae said he couldn't sleep well those days and that it could be due to it being the end of the year. It’s something he recouringly has trouble with so it can remind him of other occasions in which he had that problem. He usually writes down his emotions in his diary and revisits them. He also mentioned Itaewon Class.

On the 31st of December he then said he wrote a song.

The 6th of March of 2020 he talks about “Sweet Night”. He was saying it was hard to convey how he wanted the instrumental to sound to the staff (“express what’s in his mind”), but it was completed briefly before this vlive.

Regardless, “Your Eyes Tell” tries to retain someone BEFORE the end approaches, acting as a reassurance in case the other doubts (similar to “My Time”, released in February of 2020, where he promises they’ll overcome the restrictions), and we don’t think they broke up in 2019 due to many reasons, among them Tae saying in his final comments that it was a happy year with no particularly sad moments. January 25th was then the start of Tae being quite loud on Weverse throughout 2020 by mentioning Jungkook the most out of the members on free will (disregarding their iconic public exchange initiated by Jk on the 15th) and giving special attention to Jk-related questions as well as Taekook-related usernames. An indication of Jk’s efforts having an effect and Tae feeling encouraged to add subtle ways in which he could play with or challenge the exaggerated closeting limitations? An interesting set of rings also appeared within the month of January and it must’ve been Tae who gave Jk two rings out of the set of five that he initially wore himself. Jk held dearly onto them.

[cutelittlestar]

Unconditional Love || Peter Parker x Reader

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: While on a mission, you get exposed to an unknown substance, causing you to fall in love with the infamous soldier, Bucky Barnes. Peter, on the other hand, gets extremely jealous and angry, wishing that he was the one you fell in love with. 

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning(s): swearing, angst, fluff mentions of blood and pain, fem!reader, avengers!reader, physical fighting, sad petey :( 

A/N: I was hella bored, so I wrote this imagine for you guys. Hope you enjoy this story!

*gif is not mine

“Where are they?” Peter asked in a panic tone as he paced around the room, biting his fingernails. You and Bucky were sent on a mission a few hours ago, but both of you should’ve been back by now. As the sun was slowly disappearing, horrible scenarios started to develop in Peter’s mind, and he feared that something terrible happened to you or Bucky. What if you were hurt? What if you or Bucky couldn’t escape? What if you were captured? Peter thought to himself. For a short moment, Peter feared that you were killed, but he quickly got rid of the thought, not wanting to think of the dreadful possibility. Peter couldn’t lose you, not like this. Peter pulled his hair in frustration, hating that he couldn’t do anything but wait. You and Peter were friends since high school, and you were the best thing that happened to him; he didn’t want to live in a world without you, and his heart burned, hating that he couldn’t confess his deepest secret to you before you left. 

“You need to relax, Peter,” Steve stated, attempting to ease him; Peter was pacing around the room for what seemed like hours, but Steve couldn’t blame him, he had every right to be worried. However, Steve had to remain strong for the sake of his team. 

Peter quickly turned around, irritated that Steve and the others were sitting down and not expressing the same fear he had. “How can you remain calm?” Peter said in disbelief, growing hot by the second. Tony, Nat, Steve and the other briefly looked at one another, not knowing how to respond. While all of the Avengers feared that you and Bucky were in serious danger, both of you were well aware of the risks. Bucky and you knew that one day, you might not return, but it seemed as if Peter was ignoring that horrible scenario. 

“I’m scared too, Peter,” Steve continued, standing up and walking towards him. Steve grabbed Peter by the shoulder and reassuringly squeezed it, “-but we have to wait.”

“I can’t lose her,” Peter heartedly confessed, his voice cracking. “I need her. I can’t live without her because-,” Peter closed his mouth as he realized he almost confessed his true feelings towards you. Although the strong emotion was slowly destroying him from the inside, Peter remained quiet. 

However, Peter didn’t have to say anything else. “I know,” Steve softly whispered, knowing the exact reason Peter was so agitated; it was clear that Peter was deeply in love with you, and the mere thought of losing you was causing Peter to completely break down. 

Suddenly, the bright red alarm started to quickly flash in the room, disrupting Steve and Peter’s heartfelt conversation. Friday announced that you and Bucky had returned, but judging by the loud alarm and the distressed tone of Friday, it alerted the group that something was wrong. Within seconds, they all ran down the hallway and towards the door. Looking through the glass windows, Peter watched the quinjet shakily land and he immediately felt relieved, knowing that you were back. Unfortunately, that emotion rapidly disappeared as Peter watched a bloody and frail Bucky walk out of the quinjet with you in his arms, your body unresponsive. There were cuts and bruises scattered around Bucky’s face, his clothes were torn, and it looked as if he took a beating. Yet, Bucky’s main concern was you, and he continued to limp towards the group, hoping they could do more than he could. Bucky was on the brink of collapsing him and Peter wasted no time, running towards you as fast as he could. 

“What happened?!” Peter hastily asked, feeling his heart drop as he examined your body. You had the same, if not, worse injuries than Bucky, but Peter’s eyes immediately focused on the large gash across your stomach. 

“Am-ambush,” Bucky weakly answered. He attempted to explain more, but no words came out of his mouth; Bucky’s body shook with such intensity, but before he fell on the floor, Steve stepped in and held him by the shoulders. 

“Quickly, Peter,” Steve rushed out, “take Y/N to the emergency room.” Peter hastily took you away from Bucky’s arms and sped down the hallway, with Tony and Bruce right behind him. Kicking the door open, Peter laid you on the medical bed, stepping aside as Bruce began to work. Sweat was dripping down Peter’s face, and he tightly held onto your hand, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“Please, Y/N.. please wake up,” Peter choked out, pushing your hair away from your face. Your eyes were closed but you softly let out a whimper once you heard Peter’s voice; your minor movement indicated to Peter, Bruce, and Tony that you were still alive. Peter let out a sigh of relief, placing a tender kiss on your forehead, but his heart continued to rapidly beat in his chest, unsure of what was to come next. Bruce grabbed the scissors and began to cut off your suit to further inspect the gash on your stomach. Once the fabric was removed, Bruce stopped moving, his eyes widening in the process as he stared at your stomach. Peter took note of Bruce’s sudden change of behavior, and Peter’s eyes landed on your wound once again, only this time, he felt his panic grow stronger. 

“What the hell is that?” Peter exasperated in shock and horror, unable to believe what he was seeing. Your stomach was covered in a layer of sweat, blood, and dirt, but instead of the injury gushing out blood, a thick concentration of pink substance was seeping out. Bruce and Tony glanced at each other but immediately continued to clean your injury. Peter closed his eyes and turned his head away as Bruce attempted to close your wound, and Peter held onto your hand tighter, rubbing his thumb across your delicate hand. 

You groaned in pain as you felt a needle prick your skin, but you patiently laid on the bed until Bruce was done bandaging your wounds. You felt someone tap your shoulder, and you slowly opened your eyes as you were met to face Bruce, Tony, and Peter. Your breathing becoming erratic as you were unable to find Bucky but Peter instantly grabbed your cheek, forcing you to look into his eyes. “It’s okay, Y/N, I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.” Tears were spilling down Peter’s cheeks, and your first instinct would’ve been to wipe his tears, but instead, you moved your face away from Peter’s touch and began to look around the room. 

“Wh-Where’s Bucky?” you inquired in a worried tone. Peter felt a lump form in his throat as you slipped away from his touch, but he disregarded his pain, knowing you were anxious for Bucky’s condition. 

Peter cleared his throat, “he’s with Steve right now.” Your breathing was becoming heavier by the second as you hated the idea of being away from him. 

“I need him here, please!” you shouted in pain and sadness, tears quickly forming in your eyes and sliding down your face as Bucky was no longer by your side. Peter watched as you screamed Bucky’s name, and within a second, Bucky came barging into the room. Bucky’s eyes hastily darted around the room until he met yours, and he sped towards you, placing his hand above your head; Peter felt his heart break as he watched you gravitate towards Bucky, and he felt an unsettling emotion grow in the pit of his stomach as he watched your hands land on Bucky’s chest. 

“I’m here, don’t worry,” Bucky reassured you, rubbing your head with one hand and holding your small hands with the other. Peter’s face fell as he continued to watch the intimate interaction, but nothing could’ve prepared him for your next words. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you admitted, causing everyone’s eyes to widen. Peter’s mouth opened in shock and tears began to fall; his heart utterly shattered into a million pieces as he watched your loving eyes stare into Bucky’s, but he failed to realize how Bucky didn’t reciprocate those emotions. Instead, Bucky froze, unable to believe your words. That couldn’t true, Bucky thought to himself. You once told him about your feelings towards Peter, there was no way in hell that you were in love with Bucky. 

“Uhh,” Bucky breathed out, attempting to step back, but you tightly held onto his fabric, refraining him from doing so. 

“It’s true,” you professed, “I can’t help it, Bucky. I’ve always loved you, and I want you to be mine forever.” Bucky felt his face turn red from embarrassment as he continued to stare into your eyes, but as you finished your sentence, he noticed something unfamiliar and unsettling. Your eyes weren’t your usual color; instead, Bucky noticed a faint hint of pink cloud around your pupil until it expanded and covered your irises, the color becoming brighter and impossible to not notice. 

While Bucky was examining your eyes, your hands sneakily snuck around Bucky’s neck; in a swift movement, you pulled him closer towards your body and placed a long, loving kiss onto his rough lips. Bucky eye’s widened in pure panic and shock as your lips collided with his, and he tightly grabbed you by the shoulders, disconnecting your lips and forcing you to lean back onto the pillow. You let out a giggle as you wrapped your hands around his waist and pulled him closer, placing your head against his chest. You turned your head, noticing how all eyes were on you and Bucky, but you didn’t seem to mind; Peter and the rest of the team felt as if the room was swirling and all of their mouths dropped to the floor, unable to believe what they saw. Despite everyone seeing you passionately kiss Bucky, they were more worried about how your eyes were a different shade of color and your flamboyant behavior with the soldier. Bruce quickly connected the dots, figuring out that the wound on your stomach, which oozed a strange pink substance, could explain why your eyes were a different color.

Peter felt his blood boil but also extreme sadness engulf him. He wanted nothing more than to land a hard blow on Bucky’s cheek, but he knew it would be wrong of him to unleash his anger onto Bucky for something he couldn’t prevent. However, something was very off, and it deeply displeased the team, especially Peter. Peter turned around to face Bruce and Tony, hoping they could explain what he had to witness. 

“What the hell just happened?” 

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

While you were resting in the emergency room, the rest of the team were patiently sitting in the conference room, thinking of possible explanations to your odd behavior. Peter angrily leaned against the chair, burning holes at Bucky. 

“Tell us what happened on the mission,” Steve said, glancing at Bucky, hoping that they could find the solution to their problem if they went over every detail of the mission. Bucky sat on the chair as Bruce bandaged the cuts around Bucky’s face and body; Bucky let out a sigh as he rubbed his forehead, feeling horrible for not being able to protect you nor having a proper explanation. He ignored Peter’s glare as he attempted to think of any specific information that could be relevant. 

“Everything was fine in the beginning,” Bucky affirmed, “but then as we were about to leave the compound, we got ambushed by Hydra soldiers. Y/N and I were fighting the men until one of the bastards cut her with a dagger.” Tony nodded his head, listening to the words of the winter soldier. 

“Was there anything on the blade? A weird substance?” Tony asked.

Bucky shook his head, not recalling anything on the blade. “I didn’t see anything on it, but the minute they hurt her, they retreated back to their base. I carried her back to the jet and she immediately passed out when we left.” 

Natasha directed her attention away from Bucky to Thor, hoping the Asgardian God of Thunder could provide more about this strange topic. “Thor, is there anything that you know about magic that could explain Y/N’s weird fixation on Bucky?” Thor leaned against his chair, taking a second to think of any possible supernatural explanations. 

“Actually,” Thor announced, gaining the attention of the team, “there is.” Peter felt an intense flood of relief wash over him, glad that there was a reason that you fell in love with Bucky. It’s not real, Peter reassured to himself, you’re not really in love with Bucky. 

“It seems as if Y/N was put under a love spell. Judging by the pink substance that was coming out of her wound and her eyes turning into a bright pink color, the person behind this has to be doing supernatural or witchery activity. Bucky is the first person she saw, which explains why she’s deeply in love with him.” 

“A love spell. There has to be a cure, right?” Nat further asked, hoping they could quickly resolve the issue. She knew how much this was hurting Peter the most; although the affection you were showing to Bucky was not real love, Nat saw how much it broke Peter’s heart. She was willing to do anything to get you back to normal. 

“There is. But, we don’t know the spell, so there’s no way we can reverse it. In order to get her back to normal, we need to find whoever put this spell on her,” Thor disclosed. 

“Then the viable solution is to head back to the compound and find the person,” Peter suggested to the team, his eyes desperately pleading. The team was silent as they stared at Peter, but before Peter could say his idea, Bucky interrupted him.

“I doubt the Hydra soldiers are still there. They’re long gone by now.” 

“Then what the hell do you suggest!?” Peter angrily countered, slamming his hands on the table in frustration. Peter closed his eyes and tried to think of something positive, but the image of you kissing Bucky fueled his anger. Peter let out a sigh, removing his hands off the table, softly apologizing for his sudden outburst. 

“We’ll find them,” Steve remarked, assuring Peter that they’ll bring you back to your usual self, “in the meantime-” the sound of the doorknob wiggling caught Steve’s attention, and he stopped talking as he watched you enter the room. Peter quickly stood up, wondering why you were walking despite your conditions. 

“What are you doing Y/N? You need to be resting,” Peter stated in a worried tone, walking towards you; your eyes were still a bright pink color, and all Peter wanted was for you to get a proper night’s rest. 

“What do you mean? I’m fine, see?” you lifted the shirt, revealing to Peter and the team that you weren’t hurt nor in extreme pain. The gash was gone, but Peter was still anxious, not knowing the effects of the love spell. As Peter tried to force you out of the room, you stepped away from him. You ignored his protests and began to scan around the room until you found the person you were looking for. You brightly beamed as your eyes landed on Bucky, and you pranced towards him, pushing Bruce to the side and sitting on Bucky’s lap. You began to place kisses on Bucky’s cheek, despite Bucky trying his hardest to push you away without hurting you. 

“There you are,” you said in between kisses, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s neck. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sweetie. Did you know I love you? because I do,” you continued to ramble on, playing with the hair strands that fell onto his face. 

“Please stop,” Bucky groaned, hating every second of your affection, but you pretended to not hear his comment. All eyes were on Peter as he stood by the door, his fist clenched by his sides. He absolutely hated every second of it, but there was nothing he could do. Until they found the person who cast the spell, Peter would have to deal with your hectic yet romantic remarks and actions. He hated Bucky so much as this moment, but at the same time, he was envious, wishing that he could take Bucky’s spot. Once again, Peter felt his eyes water, but he wiped his tears and cleared his throat. A melancholic expression was embedded on his face, but before Tony could comfort him, Peter turned around. 

“Let me know when you reverse the spell. I’ll be in my room,” Peter sadly confessed, walking out of the room and slamming the door shut. 

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

As days went by, Peter’s attempts to stay in his room until you were back to normal was futile due to the fact that Bruce and Tony desperately needed him. The rest of the team went on various missions in attempts to find the culprit, but they always showed up empty-handed. Therefore, as they continued searching, Bruce and Tony decided to stay in the lab to see if they can create a reversible cure, and Peter was another great mind that can help them during the process. However, Peter was not fond of it. This meant that he would be out of his room, and there would be a higher probability of seeing you with Bucky. Although it already hurt Peter enough since he constantly thought about the various types of affections you were giving to Bucky, his room was like a shield, and it protected him from reality. On the other hand. Peter was glad that he was working with two great scientists; hopefully, their chances of finding the cure would be far greater.

One day, after hours of trying to find a solution and failing miserably, Tony thought it was best to take a break. “Hey, kiddo, how about you relax and eat something in the kitchen? I’ll be there to join you soon.” Although Peter wanted nothing more than to go back to his room, he didn’t want to say no to Tony, so he begrudgingly nodded his head and headed towards the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t bump into you nor Bucky. As usual, he was wrong. Once he entered the kitchen, he saw you digging through the cabinets, observing as you took out the cake mix and a tray.

“Oh, hey Pete,” you greeted, setting down the objects on the table. You gave him a smile, to which Peter softly returned, but Peter looked around, baffled that Bucky wasn’t there with you. 

“Where’s Bucky?” Peter wondered, but his voice was seeping with rage and jealously. He knew it was childish of him to speak like that, but he couldn’t control his anger. 

You ignored Peter’s rude tone, “in his room. Do you want to bake a cake with me?” Peter weirdly eyed you, confused as to why you weren’t chasing after Bucky, but he decided to disregard it. If this meant that he could spend any time with you without Bucky getting in the way, then Peter would happily accept. Peter felt his stomach twist with happiness, and he gleefully nodded his head. 

“Of course.” 

And for a moment, it felt like everything was back to normal. Despite your eyes being a different color, you were acting like your usual self. You were playfully joking around with Peter, you were jamming to your favorite songs, and you were dancing around the kitchen, with Peter following your movements. It was the little things like these that made Peter realize why he was so in love with you. The energy you brought to the room instantly made Peter’s day better, despite the adversity he faced. While a part of him regrets not having the courage to confess his real feelings sooner, being here with you eased the pain. After you carefully covered the strawberry cake with frosting, you leaned back, a satisfactory grin plastered on your face. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Peter admiringly stared at your face but turned his attention away from you to the cake. “It really is.” 

“Wait!” you gasped, turning around to face him. You roughly grabbed him by the shoulders, bringing him closer until he was inches away from your face. Peter felt his face get redder by the minute as you proudly smiled at him. “We forgot something!” Peter opened his mouth but you already began digging through the drawers, searching for something. “Aha!” you exclaimed in delight, holding up a red decorating pen. You quickly took off the cap and began to carefully write on the cake, and Peter felt his heart warm as he watched you bite your lip in concentration. As Peter moved to the side to get a better view of what you were writing, his smile immediately dropped as he read the phrase over and over again in his head. 

I love you, Bucky

You placed the cap back onto the pen, setting it to the side and turning to look at Peter. Within an instance, you engulfed him in a tight hug, squeezing him as hard as you can, but Peter stood still, unable to speak nor move. You broke away from the hug, grinning at Peter. “Thanks for helping me make this cake for Bucky! I’ll make sure to tell him you helped me.”  

No matter how many times Peter tried to convince himself that you didn’t mean those words, it felt impossible. Watching you be in love with Bucky shattered Peter’s hopes and dream, but he forced himself to smile, not wanting to ruin your gleeful attitude. “Of course, Y/N. Happy to help.” You gave him another smile before turning your attention to the cake, prudently picking it up, planning on delivering it to Bucky’s room. 

“I’ll make sure to save you a slice,” you promised Peter before saying goodbye and walking out of the kitchen. Peter stood in the middle of the room, his smile quickly disappearing once you were far away. A lump formed in his throat, and although Peter tried his hardest to swallow it, the lump remained lodged, stubbornly rooting itself in his mouth. Just as Tony finally appeared in the kitchen, Peter stormed out, hastily walking towards his room with a distressed expression on his face. 

Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be the last interaction he had with you or Bucky. Instead, Peter had to endure various incidences, and every time, he had to swallow his anger and pretend nothing was wrong. He would try to focus on anything that could distract him, but it wouldn’t keep him engaged for long. Every now and then, his eyes would land on you, and it felt like someone was digging a knife in his chest. Whenever Bucky was in the living room sitting on the couch, you would be pressed up against him, your head laying on his chest. Whenever Bucky was in the kitchen or the dining room, you would always sit next to him and hold his hand. You followed Bucky around like a lost puppy, and it was torture for Peter. All of the things you used to do with Peter were no longer happening anymore, and it made things worse for him. Now, he was utterly alone, and although the rest of the team would try to include Peter in their activities, Peter would always decline. Moreover, Peter hated how bright and beautiful your smile was because he wasn’t the reason for it. Peter hated how you looked untroubled and delighted whenever Bucky was by your side. Most of all, Peter absolutely loathed how much Bucky looks unbothered by your undying love for him; Peter noticed the way Bucky would return those smiles, or how he would hug you tighter whenever you laid on his chest, or how he didn’t seem to mind your touches; it absolutely enraged him because Bucky didn’t love you the way Peter did, nor will he ever. 

Days turned into weeks, and Peter finally lost his patience. After numerous times of either walking out of the room or remaining quiet, Peter couldn’t take it any longer. Now, Peter stood in front of Bucky’s room and was harshly knocking on his door, ready to confess his true emotions to let Bucky know how much this was destroying him. 

“Open up, Bucky! We need to talk,” Peter roughly shouted, growing angrier by the second as Bucky didn’t answer the door. “I know you’re in there!” There was another moment of silence, but Peter could clearly hear Bucky shuffling inside the room. Without any hesitation, Peter grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, swinging the door open. As he entered the room, Peter stopped moving, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach and his body shaking from immense rage at the sight in front of him. Bucky was dressed in nothing but his boxers, and Peter’s eyes flickered towards you, watching how you failed to cover your body with a towel. Peter’s breathing became erratic as he glared at Bucky.

“Peter,” Bucky panted, putting on a shirt and trying his best to distance himself from you, “I promise you, it’s not what it looks like.” 

“Not what it looks like?!” Peter shouted in rage and betrayal. “It’s exactly what it looks like!” Tears started to pour down Peter’s face as he assumed the worst, but he quickly wiped the tears away. Pure hatred started to course throughout his body, taking complete control, and without a second thought, Peter charged at Bucky, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him against the wall. You let out a scream as you watched Bucky’s face turn red, but his attempts to push Peter away were useless. 

“You fucking asshole!” Peter roared at Bucky, tightening the grip he had on Bucky’s neck. “You think you can just manipulate Y/N like that? I’ll fucking kill you!” Within a second, Peter lifted Bucky up and tossed him across the room, his body hitting the wall; the amount of strength Peter used caused a huge crack to form on the wall, and Bucky doubled over, the impact catching him off guard. Bucky groaned in pain, but he, too, felt his anger become stronger as Peter attacked him without giving him a chance to speak. As Bucky attempted to stand back up, Peter fully charged at him, colliding with so much strength that they both managed to break the wall entirely. Due to his spider abilities, Peter was the first to stand up, and he roughly grabbed onto Bucky’s shirt. Peter curled his hand into a fist and aimed it at the bridge of Bucky’s nose. Blood splattered all over Bucky’s face and onto the floor, but Peter continued, landing punch after punch, despite your screams and sobs. Within moments, the team shows up to separate Peter and Bucky, and as Tony and Bruce grab Peter by the shoulder and successfully drag him away, Bucky manages to stand back up with the help of Sam and Tony. However, Bucky shakes off their grip and counters with an upward cut to Peter’s jaw, causing him to stagger backward and fall down. Peter angrily spits out blood, but before he could charge at Bucky again, Peter lays on the floor as he watches you gingerly hold onto Bucky’s face, delicately rubbing his jawline in attempts to calm him down. The mere sight of seeing you pick Bucky over Peter caused him to immediately break down; Peter’s lips trembled and a gut-wrenching sob tore through his chest once he realized what he’s done. 

“What the hell is wrong with the both of you?!” Steve furiously shouted. Peter looked away due to embarrassment and regret, and he slowly stood up, wiping the blood running down his mouth. Everyone’s eyes prudently observed Peter as they expected him to fight, but Peter’s eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Bucky felt immensely guilty for what happened, but he didn’t say a word either. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered out, wiping his eyes to the point that they were red and swollen. “I’m so sorry,” Peter repeated before turning around and running down the hallway.  

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

A day after the incident between Peter and Bucky, the team finally managed to find the person who cast a spell on you, and within a few hours, the love spell was finally broken. However, Peter decided upon himself that what he did was unforgivable, and he didn’t deserve to see you. Peter let his rage and jealously take control of him, and he unleashed his pent up emotions onto Bucky. Peter didn’t deserve any love nor forgiveness; no matter how much it broke him because he couldn’t be near you, he also knew that it was a worthy punishment. He feared that you and the rest of the team couldn’t look at him the way you did before, and it absolutely terrified him. Peter pricked at the skin around his nails, completely unfazed as a long layer of skin was ripped from his ring finger, causing a small ounce of blood to seep out; Peter felt completely numb. This was his breaking point. Although the team tried numerous times to speak to Peter, he would either ignore their remarks or scream at them, telling them to leave him alone. 

However, you yearned to see Peter, despite what happened a day ago. You knew he was feeling extremely guilty, but all you wanted to do was be by his side and console him. Therefore, this was the reason you were standing in front of his door; you hesitantly knocked, listening to him slightly move but no response came out of him. You knocked again, putting a bit more force, causing Peter to rise from his bed; he didn’t want to yell at the person standing in front of the room, but he was already growing tired of explicitly telling the team that he wanted to be left alone. 

“I told you to leave me alone,” Peter spat as he came closer to the door and began to unlock it; Peter intentionally made sure every word reeked of frustration so the person got the gist that he wasn’t fooling around. As Peter grabbed the doorknob and slightly opened the door to personally confront the person, he felt his heart drop once he realized it was you who was standing in front of his door.

“Y/N?” Peter said in disbelief, completely taken aback; he thought you would want to be as far away from him, but yet, here you were. You sorrowfully stared at Peter, noticing how there were tear stains on his face; his eyes were completely red and swollen and you wanted to engulf him in a hug, but you were afraid that he would push you away. You gave him a soft smile, and you pulled your hair behind your ear. “Can I come in?” you gingerly asked him. Peter opened his mouth, but no words came out; instead, he nodded his head, opening his door and allowing you to come into his room.

Your eyes wandered around the room as you were unsure of how to start the conversation, but you looked into his eyes and gave him a half-hearted smile. Peter returned the simper before it quickly disappeared; his face distorted into one with fear and guilt. “How’s Bucky?” Peter managed to say. 

“A broken nose, but he’ll be alright,” you said, noticing how Peter flinched once you told him the truth. You gave him a reassuring smile, but you knew that what you were about to say next was going to make him feel horrible. You let out a sigh, hoping he wouldn’t beat himself up. “I know you think that Bucky was trying to take advantage of me, but that’s not what happened. It was the love spell’s fault, not Bucky’s; I snuck into his room while he was taking a shower, and I tried to seduce him, but he quickly turned me down, saying that it wasn’t the real me, just some chemical in my body that made me believe I was in love with him.” 

Peter opened his mouth but no words escaped. He heavily groaned as he walked towards the bed and sat down. You followed his movements, but you left an immense gap between you and him; you were still unsure of what he wanted, and you wanted to respect his boundaries. “Fuck, I look like a fucking idiot now.” There was a thick silence that engulfed the room, but you waited for Peter to continue, hoping that he would tell you more about how he felt. After a minute or so, Peter spoke out. “I didn’t mean to get so angry,” Peter confessed, a solemn look embedded in his facial features. The image of you on Bucky’s bed caused Peter to shake with rage, but then it quickly died down. “But, when I saw you in that bed... I just lashed out. I’m so sorry, for everything; I understand if you or the others don’t forgive me.” You sorrowfully watched Peter’s slouched body, and you took it as a cue to move closer towards Peter. You slowly grabbed his hands, causing him to flinch, but then he instantly relaxed. Although his reaction was capricious and terrifying to witness, you also believed that Peter knew what he did was unjustifiable. 

“It’s okay, Peter,” you conveyed, giving him a tight squeeze, “everyone knows you feel guilty, but you shouldn’t carry that guilt until the day you die. As long as you know that what you did wasn’t right, then the others will forgive you. We miss you, Peter. I miss you. A lot, actually.” Peter turned his head as he listened to your words, his heart warming as you tried to make him feel better. 

“I missed you too,” Peter revealed, earning a smile from you. 

“Can I tell you something?” you whispered, afraid that if you said it loud enough, you would regret opening your mouth. Peter nodded his head, leaning further into your touch. 

“Anything.” 

“I love you, Peter Parker. More than anything in this world, and I’m sorry that I waited so long to tell you this, but after everything that’s happened, I couldn’t hold it in,” you unveiled, feeling your face turn red as you watched Peter stare into your eyes. The silence that followed after caused your heart to beat faster, and you instantly regretted saying those three words to him. Just as you were about to stand up and take back your confession, Peter slowly reached his hands out and gingerly placed them onto your face. 

“I love you too, Y/N, and my love is unconditional,” Peter revealed before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Time stopped when your lips met his, and the feelings you had for Peter only intensified. Your heart pounded in your chest and you felt your body shake; the raw emotions in the way his fingers cradled your face only confirmed that his love was real. At that moment, every breath he took smelled like you, a coconut scent, and he adored every single millisecond. The warm feeling was inviting, and it caused you to pull him closer. 

You broke away from the kiss after a while and opened your eyes; it felt as if his lips were still on yours. Peter’s eyes brightened, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you, unable to believe the intimate moment you just shared. 

Finally, you stood up from the bed and grabbed Peter’s hand in the process, pulling him up. You gingerly held onto Peter’s face, placing a soft kiss onto his lips as his hands rested on your waist. You smiled into the kiss before breaking away, tugging Peter out of the room. “C’mon. Let’s make Bucky a ‘sorry I broke your nose’ cake.” 

[sepublic]

Eda learning to be Luz’s teacher

           You know what? I have to wonder if the reason why Eda was initially so hesitant about teaching Luz magic, and constantly procrastinated on this fact… Was because she already knew that humans couldn’t do magic, and didn’t want to break the girl’s heart by being upfront about this fact? When Episode 2 starts, basically right after Eda sort of agrees to teach Luz without taking it too seriously, she’s in no rush. Eda even laughs off Luz’s dreams of being a chosen one, because she didn’t realize it meant that much to the kid! But then Eda sees how her cold rejection and mockery of Luz’s dreams led her to fall for Adegast’s trickery…

          And after reassuring Luz with ideas of determining one’s fate, Eda realized that learning magic really DID mean a lot to Luz; And after the Adegast incident which she feels responsible for, Eda doesn’t want to disappoint Luz again, especially after initially being so harshly dismissive of Luz’s dreams. Eda was a kid who was very disappointed that she couldn’t learn all nine forms of magic, and she’s someone who’s determined not to put others through the same experiences that she had to suffer, first-hand and without guidance. I can see Eda wanting to avoid being the ‘Bump’ in this situation with Luz (especially since she kind of was), not wanting to trample on Luz’s dreams by being upfront that she can’t learn magic…

           And considering how fond of Luz she is… I have to wonder if Eda deliberately procrastinated on the truth, because she also wanted to keep her around? This could parallel how Luz lied about knowing two spells to Amity in Adventures in the Elements… Eda could’ve also lied under the impression that Luz would no longer want to hang around with her anymore, because Eda might think that Luz is interested in Eda only for her ability to teach magic. If Eda can’t teach Luz magic, then what reason does Luz have to stick around, especially given Eda’s liability as a criminal… And later on as revealed in The Intruder, someone who can transform into a dangerous beast.

           Eda’s used to being rejected by others because of her curse, because of her views on magic, etc. She’s used to rejection, so it’s what she naturally assumes that Luz is inclined towards… That she’s only hanging around Eda because she has no other choice. It’d recontextualize Eda’s grief upon seeing Luz seemingly enroll at Hexside in Episode 3, only to have some relief and even triumph when Luz is banned. Obviously Eda doesn’t want Luz to be indoctrinated, but I wonder if there’s some selfishness about wanting to keep Luz close, or at least a fear that Luz would show disinterest in Eda in favor of a more ‘traditional’ institution.

           Which, again ties into how Luz was afraid that Amity wouldn’t be impressed by her lack of spells, and her assumption that Amity is only interested in Luz because of her unique skills as a witch… Because like Eda, Luz is undervaluing her own personal worth, and how THAT’s what draws people to her, not necessarily her skill in Magic! Luz and Eda could both have an issue with assuming their someone’s last choice, and not their deliberate first one… After all, it’s not exactly wrong of Eda to assume that whatever’s back home for Luz isn’t all too good, given how she chooses a random stranger who’s a criminal over it. To Eda, she could’ve assumed that Luz was driven more by a desire to avoid her home, than a desire to hang around Eda… And Eda doesn’t want to make Luz leave the Owl House, if Luz is apprehensive towards her home that much- Eda wants the best for the kid!

           And while avoiding the Reality Camp was definitely PART of the reason, there was also Luz being genuinely enamored by Eda’s care for King, and her sentiments on weirdoes sticking together! Luz really wanted in on that dynamic! It’s another reason why Eda is so dazzled by Luz after she sticks around… Because even after knowing that there are different schools to learn magic traditionally, even after knowing that Eda’s criminal status could endanger her… Even after knowing that Eda couldn’t even teach her magic, and that Eda was a potential threat because of her curse- Luz still sticks around, because she likes Eda that much.

           In Agony of a Witch, Eda makes a point of how she wants to pay back Luz for all of her kindness by giving her the Witch’s Wool Cloak. I think that after The Intruder, Eda legitimately invested time, effort, and research into Glyphs… Because not only did Luz show her that they existed and they were possible, thus kindling a hope in Eda’s heart to actually teach Luz magic; But I think Eda felt indebted towards the girl. That she really wanted to prove herself to Luz, and be the role model that Luz thinks she is… Like the Good Witch Azura, ironically- Despite Eda’s apprehension towards the saccharine sweetness of those books, she’ll gladly be Azura for Luz, if it makes the girl happy.

           And, this realization of her bond with Luz, could’ve played a part in Eda getting over her apprehension towards Hexside, swallowing her pride to enroll Luz in. Because by the end of the day, Eda recognizes that she just wants the best for Luz, that she doesn’t want to selfishly keep the girl to herself, and inhibit Luz in the process (which could be antithetical to how Lilith felt about Eda but I digress). It’s that “If you love me let me go” meme, except it’s Eda feeling like Luz is better off without her, to an extent… And while she IS right about her own shortcomings as a teacher, or at least that Luz deserves to learn from more than one source- I think there’s still that lingering insecurity that Eda has to live up to what Luz wants her to be, that cool, powerful witch.

           That makes it sweet when Luz makes it clear to Eda, mutually, during the Season Finale –when the two reunite at the Conformatorium- that she really loves Eda for who she is, and would give up everything for her… And Eda sees that Luz’s love for her has become unconditional. And similarly, Eda reassures Luz that she loves the girl, that Luz doesn’t have to feel like she owes her anything… Just being with one another, or at least seeing the other be happy, is enough. When Eda tells Luz to save herself, it’s not a rejection of their companionship as Luz fears; It’s Eda prioritizing Luz. Regardless, both Luz and Eda learn that while they want the best for the other, they shouldn’t disregard how much they meant to their loved one either- That maybe their loved one isn’t better off without them, because they DO care…! Eda may prioritize Luz, but she should also value her relationship with the girl as well, because Luz appreciates it too. Even if Luz’s safety comes above her companionship with Eda, who’s to say Eda has to choose between Luz’s safety, and being with the girl- Why can’t she have both, as Luz would defiantly ask?

          There’s nothing to worry about, you’re not parasitically dragging down your loved one with your connection to them, you don’t have to worry about being good enough for them, or being on their level… What you’ve got going on, is good enough just as it is! You’re not holding them back from a better choice, you ARE that loved one’s choice, first and foremost, and you should remember that they had agency when they decided to stick with you! Don’t undersell yourself, and trust in your loved one’s judgment if they decided to hang around with you after all- They have good taste too, believe it or not. Luz is special to Eda, because she validates Eda by seeing her as someone to look up to and emulate, and that encourages Eda to be a true role model in her own right, and live up to those expectations. It gives Eda a purpose in life, when up until then there was that lingering regret that her existence had been wasted. Of course with Luz, she encourages Eda to be the best she can be, but doesn’t necessarily hold it against her if she isn’t…

           So when Luz discovers glyphs and does the impossible, Eda is inspired to do the same- If this kid can do it, so can she! Eda CAN learn to teach magic to this human, after all… So she does her research off-screen. It’s worth noting that Covention happens immediately after The Intruder, as a follow-up to Eda’s change of heart as she decides to be truly serious about teaching Luz magic… And how Luz and Amity are set up to duel one another as representatives of their teachers’ own skills. Eda’s pride comes into play when Lilith assumes that Luz is a terrible Witch, and it also comes into play when Luz mentions how Eda’s apprentice not knowing two spells is a bad look for Eda herself…

           But at the end of Covention, Luz asks Eda if she’ll ever be a great witch. And we see here that while Eda may have her pride play a little into making Luz learn magic… In the end, she doesn’t expect Luz to be a great witch, just for Eda’s pride. She’s not going to be disappointed in Luz, nor herself. She tells Luz that she’s not beholden to anyone else’s definition of a witch, and that Eda doesn’t truly expect Luz to win on her behalf, for the sake of making Eda look good. Luz can fail all she wants, do her progress at her own pace- It’s why Eda reassures Luz about being a quitter in The First Day, or how she tells Luz that it’s okay that she wasn’t able to take on Grom singlehandedly like she thought she could! It IS also worth noting that Luz wouldn’t be allowed to do magic at all if she lost the Covention duel, so Eda could’ve had that altruistic reasoning behind making Luz cheat- She doesn’t want Luz to lose her chance at magic, after having just discovered it!

           Regardless, it contrasts with Lilith, who DOES have that expectation for Amity to do well, to live up to Lilith’s image and pride… And how Lilith cares so much more for maintaining her own reputation as a teacher, that she makes Amity cheat without her knowledge nor consent, instead of being genuinely interested in gauging Amity’s current skill and progress, and working with that. Lilith was more interested in how she looked to Eda and others as a teacher, than Amity’s actual ability at magic. The possibility of Amity losing is inexcusable for Lilith, that she really goes out of her way to attach the Power Glyph even though her victory should be guaranteed, amidst Lilith rightfully suspecting Eda would cheat of course.

          And that, of course, tells Amity that she is not allowed to lose, that failure is no option… And it just contributes to the pressure and expectations on her, and how she’s not allowed to make mistakes and learn from them, and when she DOES make mistakes, Amity thinks it’s the end of the world and that there’s nothing to salvage from the situation, whatsoever. It conditions Amity to see everything she does as a reflection and extension of others and not her own skills and belief in herself, and that she can’t just enjoy things for the sake of only her happiness. And Amity really undervalues how it’s a lot of her own skill that got her where she is, and not JUST the guidance of a great teacher.

          Lilith was showing a disrespectful lack of confidence in Amity, that she doesn’t really trust the girl, not enough to do something that should be so easy and simple, and it hurts because to Amity it means she’s never good enough, and that maybe there’s something wrong with her that sparks this kind of distrust in her ability; To the point where Lilith can’t even be upfront about her lack of faith in Amity and the application of the Power Glyph, because she doesn’t think the girl can take criticism. That will just make Amity question if people ever really mean it when they praise her; And in turn, lead her to assume that people are secretly lying whenever they tell her that she did good, or at least didn’t do wrong.

           But, I digress. Eda reiterates to Luz at the end of Covention that she doesn’t really care if Luz would’ve won or not (unless it meant Luz losing her chance at magic), which connects to how Luz and Amity’s duel had no definitive winner and was a tie, and a total mess of a match. In contrast to Lilith, who neither reassures Amity, nor does anything to actually check up on the girl afterwards, instead focusing on Eda… Which, Eda IS her sister and she misses her a lot, and Lilith doesn’t get to see Eda often so she’ll milk every last moment with her, but still.

           Either way, Eda considers how she just wants Luz to learn magic for Luz’s own sake, not for Eda’s expectations of her- And while there is the joke of Luz playing into Eda’s pride by getting her to take her to the knee, it’s worth noting that Eda clearly had done her research well before this was brought up, and also that Luz actually needs to know two spells so she can avoid the Baby Class, and learn Magic as she’d like to. And Eda, Eda is a very tsundere character when it comes to affection- So I can see her passing off bringing Luz to the knee as just wanting to look good as a teacher, when in reality it’s because Luz really cares about this and Eda wants to provide.

          I could also get into potential insecurity on Eda’s behalf on failing Luz as a teacher, so she tries to avoid teaching lessons to begin with… You get the idea. Like I said, Luz brings up Eda’s pride because she’s using every reason to learn a second spell because of how desperate she is, as well as the fact that she still has insecurities over paying back Eda for her kindness, through being a great student and thus a reflection of Eda’s skill as a teacher, until Eda reassures Luz once and for all that her love is unconditional in the Season Finale.

           Which, connects us to the idea of Eda not being able to be the conventional, magical teacher that Luz wanted… But she’s still an incredibly potent mentor in her own way, in the important life-lessons she instills Luz with. Amidst Luz proving her own worth as a self-taught learner, making her progress with magic all the more difficult and painstaking to further the disability metaphor, and the idea of Luz and Eda mutually teaching and learning from one another, because they respect one another. It’s all tied up in the final moments of the Season Finale, when Eda can no longer be the teacher she wanted to be for Luz, and is now just a student alongside her- Frequently learning FROM Luz, in fact!

          And Luz… not only does Luz love Eda regardless of magic, but the two of them mutually look forward to the lessons they could have, together. Eda doesn’t have to be the magical teacher that Luz wanted- That frees her up to express vulnerability by being a Magic Student like Luz, acknowledging her shortcomings so Eda can get Luz the best teachers she can… And Luz recognizing Eda’s value as a teacher in a different sense. Luz and Eda both show, teach, and illuminate one another- Individually great on their own, but when combined, Luz and Eda make an unstoppable pair! Before losing her magic, Eda was already learning about glyphs with her research; Now she gets to do it alongside Luz, and has a reason to for both of them.

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: like ashes and embers Ship: Dooku/Qui-Gon (but lots of disaster lineage feels) for @shatouto Summary: Qui-Gon didn’t recognize the galaxy anymore. He saw all the cracks he had been able to trace before his passing, but somehow, in just under a decade, those cracks had grown into canyons larger than entire systems.  Qui-Gon contemplated his relationship with his Master. AN: Read on AO3! I hope you like it!

Qui-Gon didn’t recognize the galaxy anymore. He saw all the cracks he had been able to trace before his passing, but somehow, in just under a decade, those cracks had grown into canyons larger than entire systems. They were at war, fighting for goals he could hardly see clearly anymore. Upon his awakening, he had thought he knew what his goal was, what he should do with his second chance.

It wasn’t so clear anymore. All the lines blurred together and the only truth he could trust in was the Force, his steady companion.

“Master Jinn?”

He turned around, away from the window of his ship.

That too had taken some getting used to. Qui-Gon was no stranger to war itself, he had fought plenty of battles and civil wars. His lineage wasn’t exactly known for being subtle or able to hold back when faced with injustice. While those character traits didn’t make their lives any easier, they were still remarkable and he hoped he had passed those qualities on.

“Ahsoka,” he greeted the apprentice standing in front of her. She moved comfortably in her dark armor, as if it were a second skin, not unlike those of the brothers who followed them. While the clones had made their own culture, taken bits of the Mandalorian stories their template had shared, the Jedi tales they had been taught by their Generals, and something that was very distinctly only them, all traditions acknowledge the need for proper dress on the battlefield. They had, apparently, been quite horrified when they had met little Ahsoka for the first time, not wearing any kind of protection at all.

Ahsoka was no little child anymore. She was still a teenager, yes, but with her seventeen years, she almost stood as tall as her Master. She was bound to surpass him anytime in the next year, something Anakin steadily refused to think about while everyone else had their fun reminding him of it.

“Can I help you?” Qui-Gon asked.

Ahsoka sighed and pointed in the direction of the door. “Grandmaster’s calling, something about our attack on the enemy forces.”

Qui-Gon frowned. He was sure that Anakin was supposed to be in charge of the upcoming battle. They had made quite a lot of plans in that regard, Obi-Wan taking the defense while Qui-Gon sat this one out, his fleet only providing back up if necessary, and already rushing to the next system that needed their help.

“Any last-minute changes?” Qui-Gon asked as he fell into step next to Ahsoka. The young woman shook her head and shrugged. “I thought so, but no. Any idea where Skyguy is, by the way? He said he’d practice my Jar’Kai with me again, but I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Have you checked Obi-Wan’s cabin?” Qui-Gon replied, amusement coloring his words.

Ahsoka only rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not stupid, that’s the first place I check. It’s not like he actually sleeps in his own cabin, which is entirely unfair because it’s bigger than mine.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, the perfect picture of a pouty Padawan. “Maybe I’ll just make a ship-wide announcement. Hey, Skyguy, if you’re done doing-“

“If I’m done doing what exactly?”

Ahsoka jerked as Anakin walked out of the next hallway, already dressed sharply for battle. He too was wearing dark armor and beneath that, black robes, the sigil of their army displayed proudly on his shoulders.

“Uh, nothing?” Ahsoka replied hastily. “Doesn’t matter! You promised me training and you didn’t show!”

Accusingly, she pointed her finger at him, a gesture he was sure she had picked up from Anakin as the young man didn’t even hesitate to mirror her, beginning to lecture about duties and more important things than perfecting her already stunning Jar’Kai. Watching the two of them argue was a delight to say the least. They fit well together, and Anakin was a good teacher to her, despite the few years separating them. Taking on students so close to your own age was always difficult and brought challenges of their own. Qui-Gon had been quite shocked to learn that Anakin had been assigned a student due to the war and some other underlying hopes he didn’t dare think even closer upon. The Jedi had already fallen so low, he did not want to think of even more flaws.

Qui-Gon left the two of them to their bickering and headed towards the door where he knew his Master lingered. He tapped in the key for the door and stepped inside, unphased when the door closed and locked behind him. He was already used to his Master’s antics.

Dooku was standing at the very end of the room, looking outside of the windows to observe the vastness of space surrounding them, similar to the way Qui-Gon had just minutes before.

“Your manners haven’t improved in the slightest,” Dooku said in lieu of greeting, not looking away from the dark.

Qui-Gon suppressed a rather childish snort and walked towards his Master instead. For all that Dooku prided himself on his composure, he could act rather unbecoming at times, disregarding formalities when he was surrounded by people he trusted.

“Because I didn’t knock?” Qui-Gon remarked and stepped next to his Master.

Dooku still didn’t turn to look at him, ever focused on the sight in front of him. His Master never lost focus, never showed any weakness that wasn’t calculated down to the briefest of movements. It reminded Qui-Gon a lot of Obi-Wan, his own so very dear Padawan. For all that Obi-Wan and Dooku had never spent any time together while his Padawan was growing up, he had turned out remarkably similar to his grandmaster. Perhaps that was just the nature of their relationships. Both storms in their own right, Qui-Gon was a wildfire, ever-growing hungry and consuming. By necessity, whoever accompanied him had to be more of a hurricane, possess the eye of the storm where there was silence and brutal calculations.

It was probably for the best that Qui-Gon had never taught Anakin. They would have ended disastrously. They were too much alike, too headstrong.

And too willing to fight with their Masters right up until they wanted to do nothing more than sit at their side, telling them every whispered word of the Force.

The distance that had grown between the two of them after Qui-Gon’s Knighting had hurt him in a manner he still couldn’t entirely grasp, but he was sure that he should have thrown a larger fit over the way Dooku had abandoned him then. Perhaps it had been for his own sake, but it had hurt regardless.

“You are deep in thought, Padawan,” Dooku said. Only now did his eyes travel to Qui-Gon, studying him intensely.

“I was only reminiscing about the past,” Qui-Gon admitted. “The days when I was your Padawan.”

“You still are my Padawan, Qui-Gon,” Dooku was quick to insist.

The possessiveness attaching itself to the statement was almost too obvious for his Master. Anger must be boiling beneath his skin. Qui-Gon wondered what had started it, what had set him off.

“Of course, Master,” Qui-Gon replied good-naturedly. “I was just thinking of the times you taught me how to speak correctly.”

Qui-Gon remembered those days well, had spent hours agonizing about the way his Master used to put one hand to his throat and one on his lower back to guide him to the proper posture, the way he should conduct himself while he spoke. For all that Qui-Gon was known as a brilliant duelist, his true strength had always been with words, compelling arguments crafted in the face of adversary, the will of the Force pressed onto another’s mind.

Qui-Gon had never known whether Dooku had chosen him for his aptitude with manipulations of the mind, but he had certainly been proud of Qui-Gon’s skills. He had invested hours into showing Qui-Gon how to be even subtler, how to trace alongside shadows already present within a mind, how to hide his intention with sweet honey dropping like ambrosia from his lips. Qui-Gon had learned how to ensnare the world for his Master and now he was once more following his Master’s lead, and that with pleasure.

The message of the Force was easier to trace at his Master’s side.

“I enjoyed those lessons,” Dooku confessed. “You sing so sweetly.”

It had never been sweet enough to drag his Master into his bed, though. Qui-Gon had certainly tried to seduce his Master with poems as gentle as the rebirth of spring, the heat of a star, the strength of a blade. He hadn’t been foolish enough to attempt anything more than that, to press his will onto his Master.

It had taken time of course, but Qui-Gon had found his way into his Master’s heart, and his bed. The only thing that had held him back had been the old Jedi sentiment, chains that had to be broken.

They were past that now.

“Something is changing,” Dooku said. “I don’t know what. I believe it has something to do with the enemy delegation we’re supposed to be meeting. I’d like for you to join the talk instead of the fighting.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t sense anything, walking through muddy waters, but if Dooku was so sure, he inclined to believe him.

“And where will you be?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Elsewhere.”

It was a cruel way of implying that he was going to meet with Sidious. Qui-Gon didn’t need to tear through his Master’s shields and make himself at home in his mind to know his thoughts. The thought of the other Sith Master awakened Qui-Gon’s usual more subtle bloodlust. Sidious was a hindrance, a dangerous one at that.

“Why haven’t you killed him yet? We don’t need him anymore. We can take the Republic on our own.”

“Don’t be a fool, Qui-Gon. There is much about the dark side we can still learn from Sidious. He has not yet run out of his use.”

That was something Qui-Gon wasn’t convinced of. “I fear that we give him too much time to discover our plot.”

Sidious had certainly not been pleased about Qui-Gon taking his place as his Master’s right hand., though even the Force, light or dark, could tell that it was right. Qui-Gon frankly speaking didn’t see the point of keeping the other Sith Lord around.

“All will be well, Qui-Gon. You mustn’t worry.”

His Master’s eyes flickered golden, the arrogance of the tyrannical king shining through.

“You will forgive me, but I believe that is impossible. I trust the Force, and the Force is ringing with a warning.”

“Must I forgive you?”

Qui-Gon smiled and then reached for his Master’s neck, tilted his head towards him the same way Dooku used to when he guided him during their lessons. He lingered for just a moment, let himself enjoy the warmth beneath his palm.

“You must,” Qui-Gon announced and captured his Master’s lips in a kiss. There was no hurry to it, no possessiveness, just gentle reassurance almost too compassionate for the shadows they had become, burning embers drenched in the darkness.

Qui-Gon was not a young, fumbling Knight anymore, he was well aware that his Master cared for him and wouldn’t abandon him. When he moved to deepen the kiss, taking Dooku away from the stars and close to his heart, his Master didn’t object. If anything, he indulged Qui-Gon, let him pull at the collar of his robes to suck marks onto his skin while he tangled his hands in Qui-Gon’s hair.

“Then I believe I will,” Dooku replied and tugged at Qui-Gon’s hair to pull him away again so he could kiss him again.

[boy-above]

Please, anymore thoughts on Kokichi?? I'd love to hear you infodump :) love your content btw

aaa omg :0 it’s a little embarrassing infodumping publicly aaaa but i’ll do it, here’s some thoughts abt him.

for starters! i think kokichi is locked into position of antagonist very early on and doesn’t really have a chance to fight it. this is partly his fault of course, i believe the reason he’s so rude and hostile is so he keep his distance from people as he doesn’t trust any of them. he reiterates many times that this is a game of suspicion and he will not let himself fall victim to someone by trusting them. he doesn’t want to appear vulnerable either so he doesn’t allow anyone even a glimpse of his true feelings most of the time, he lies so much so even when he does express true feelings, you’ll never know if he’s being serious or not.

but this also means that no matter what he does during the game, even if it’s an action that has good intentions or is for the better of the group, it will be met with hostility because everyone assumes from a very early point that he does not have their best interests in mind. this means he would literally be unable to redeem himself in their eyes because they’ve already decided that he’s a bad person no matter what. even if he started acting nice and doing everything right, people would continue to think hes scheming and is up to no good.

for example, kokichi reveals to everyone that maki is the ultimate assassin, but the others kind of treat him like an asshole for it. kokichi was doing the right thing here! everyone deserved to know that there was a professional killer among them, someone who was guarding an entire room full of weapons!! but he’s vilified for doing this. also, something big that always makes me upset, is the fact that people routinely disregard kokichi’s safety and well-being. someone he just outed as a murderer is standing there strangling him and nobody does anything to help him. then of course there’s the scene where he’s busted his head and is covered in blood and very obviously woozy and not okay, but everyone is just annoyed with him and nobody helps him. he doesn’t deserve that. everyone hates him so much.

and it comes to a point where kokichi weaponizes everyone’s hatred and mistrust of him against the mastermind, by trying to convince everyone that he Is the mastermind in his plans to hopefully end the killing game. and everyone eagerly believes it because they’ve already all got huge hate boners for him, it seems obvious to them. everyone is willing to believe he orchestrated the whole situation they’re trapped in and that he’s a remnant if despair, despite the fact that there’s actually very little evidence for it. everyone except shuichi, who later goes out of his way to prove his suspicions that kokichi isn’t the mastermind nor a remnant of despair to clear his name. which brings me to! why kokichi hates kaito and why he feels that he can trust shuichi.

kokichi is a very logic over feelings type of guy, and feels that blindly trusting people just because you think they’re your friend is a very dangerous mindset to have, in this situation at least. this is why he butts heads with kaito a lot. kaito is someone who even got mad at shuichi for accusing gonta in his trial, even though gonta Was the culprit and everyone else would be executed if they voted incorrectly, all because kaito’s belief in trusting others was so strong. kaito is very feelings over logic. kaito has a very firm stance on what he believes is right and wrong and he’s Stubborn as fuck about it. that’s part of the reason i don’t really care for kaito, he can get very preachy at times and let’s his feelings get in the way of finding the truth. he seems to feel morally superior to people in a game where morals are simply not black and white in the way he thinks they should be.

which brings me to why kokichi feels he can trust shuichi and only shuichi!

kaede was shuichi’s closest friend in the game and he did not let his feelings get in the way of naming her as the culprit. if he had blindly believed in her and refused to name her as the culprit despite all the evidence pointing towards her, everyone would have died. it completely tore shuichi up inside to send kaede to her death, it absolutely devastated him, but he did it for the sake of the group. it’s this moment where i think kokichi started taking an interest in shuichi. this is someone who understands the game and understands what has to be done to protect everyone. you can’t get everyone there killed just to protect one person, no matter how close with them you are. i think it’s from here that kokichi slowly started gaining a crush on him as well. i headcanon that kokichi didn’t have much interest in him before he actually saw him in action during the trial, when he entered “detective mode” and got all serious.

i don’t think this is a complete lie! i don’t think he’s saying he’s in love with him or anything, but i do think it’s true he likes shuichi most out of everyone there. he thinks shuichi is the most interesting and trustworthy and probably does think about him a lot. he does a lot of thinking, the gears in his head are always turning, i get the feeling he doesn’t get a lot of sleep with how much he’s always thinking. it honestly makes me pretty sad thinking about him staying up all night thinking about his situation and trying to plan how he’s going to end the game, all while being super isolated from everyone else and not having any true friends.

which takes me to another point!

kokichi ouma is a super tragic character. i don’t care what anyone says, i don’t believe having this interpretation of him is “woobifying” him or anything similar. this right here? he’s telling the truth. nobody would care if he died, and nobody Did care when he died. everyone was sad about kaito, there was hardly any talk about kokichi. kokichi died a sad, lonely, unceremonious death. nobody cared when he had blood oozing from his head, nobody cared when maki was strangling him, nobody cares about him.

he was right. kokichi was always alone, through the whole game. he died alone. and i do think that this coming from shuichi probably hurt. shuichi was the only person there who he thought he could maybe trust. and kokichi did get what he wanted, he needed Everyone to hate him so they’d all believe he was the mastermind if he wanted his plan to work, including shuichi. but i don’t think he was prepared to hear shuichi say this specifically, i think it really hit close to home which is why it shut him up the way it did. and remember, kokichi Did try to ask shuichi to be in on the plan!! during chapter 4, as they were exiting miu’s vr world, he did attempt to ask shuichi to be his accomplice in a very roundabout way, but shuichi ignored him and exited the program. there could have been a world where kokichi and shuichi worked in tandem to try to end the killing game.

which brings me to why i ship saiou. i love saiou a lot. it’s my comfort ship and it makes me very happy. part of it is that kokichi is my comfort character and i project very heavily onto him. as ive mentioned above, i think kokichi trusted shuichi, was interested in him and he was kokichi’s favorite. i think he had feelings for shuichi and it’s very comforting to imagine shuichi returning his feelings and kokichi getting to be happy. i love aus where kokichi has friends and people actually try to know him and see through his lies, don’t accept them for face value. that’s also why i think kokichi liked shuichi, everyone else took him at face value and didn’t try to look below the surface at all. shuichi was interested in kokichi, interested to know what made him tick and why he did the things he did. he cared enough to want to find out. towards the end of the game shuichi did get very tired and couldnt find any logic in his actions anymore, and ultimately did give up, but once kokichi was gone his conviction to know kokichi’s true intentions came back again.

I think overall kokichi actually was lonely and wanted someone to care about him. i know the ftes aren’t technically canon but they Are canon compliant and are in character. kokichi’s feelings for shuichi are obvious. kokichi wants to spend time with shuichi and do silly things with him like playing yugioh and having tea parties. kokichi played Rock Paper Scissors against shuichi One Hundred times and shuichi kept playing. and at the end when kokichi got all giddy when shuichi was bandaging his cut, i think he was so excited because someone cared about him. someone cared about him enough to bandage his cut and just that little thing is enough to make him bashful and happy because he isn’t used to being cared for. that’s why i ship saiou, i just want kokichi to be happy and shuichi can make him happy. out of everyone shuichi tried the hardest.

anyway i think that’s all i got! please nobody @ my about my interpretations lol

[urbiggestdaydream]

fear street: a review

happy spooky seasons babes!!! for every week in october, i'll be posting reviews on spooky movies and tv shows inspired by this Instagram post https://www.instagram.com/p/CUN2Xeth3N4/?utm_medium=copy_link attached in case you want any ideas for a spooky night in. this first review will be on the netflix original movie, fear street. one of my best friends is OBSESSED with this trilogy so it's dedicated to her. i told her someday i would watch it and today is the day :) 

fear street is a trilogy set around 1994, 1978, and 1666 respectively. for the sake of the review, i will be watching the first one. it runs for an hour and 47 mins and is rated r. the first opening line states, “it started as a prank and ended in murder” already intriguing. it sets the stage of a rebellious teenage age that could end in an accidentally murder or an supernatural circumstances that leads to murder. either one sounds good. i’m getting a little ahead of myself. the general plot is about a group of teens from the town of shadyville that try to rectify the brutal killings that plague their town. for more insight, keep on reading. it will contain major spoilers so you have been warned. 

SPOILER the movie begins with heather (maya hawke, a queen) who is working at a book store. a relatable girl with her “not like other girls” personality, she exchanges teasing banter with her friend, ryan who works near her. as the mall begins to close (named shadyside mall which serves as a foreshadow), she encounters the killer wearing a halloween skeleton mask. they wrestle around for a little bit and she is then killed afterwards. just when i started to like her. before her death, she unveils the killer and it is revealed as her friend ryan who she was just conversing with. 

the opening scene provides an inner look into shadyside and its reputation for being a murderous town. we are then told that this is a common thing. it has a neighboring town called sunnyvale. like the name suggests, it is the complete opposite. it is safe, wealthy and comfortable. it had a record breaking year of no violence as opposed to shadyside which is cursed with murders. it is dubbed “killer capital usa”. i wonder if this is used as a social commentary on how certain towns cannot be saved and are riddled with crime. but that is a discussion for another day. we are also given motifs of a witch being executed. could this be an illusion to events to come? 

we are met with a new protagonist named deena. deena is going through a breakup with someone named sam. she is heartbroken and resentful as sam is the reason she left band. we meet her friends, simon and kate, who are there to support her throughout the whole process and with that they discuss the current standing of their town with the recent murder of heather. a possible reason for the killings is considered: shadyside creates murders. certain people lose their breaking point and take it out on unsuspecting victims. it makes people go insane.

a town left in shambles once again. a candlelit vigil is held for the victims of the mall massacre hosted in sunnyvale. it is clear that the neighboring towns have animosity towards each other. it is giving pawnee vs. eagleton (shout out to parks and rec). with the rising tensions between them, a fight ensues with the two football teams. it is also revealed that the reason for sam and deena’s breakup is sam moving to sunnyvale. deena is displeased at her decision and i would be too but at the same time, i don’t blame sam. i would have left too if my life would be in danger just by being there. but that’s besides the point. enraged, everyone goes back to their respective homes with a few football players plus sam tormenting the shadyside team. several hyped up chants later, the shadyside team retaliate by throwing a cooler directed at the car. the car begins to swerve and hits a tree harming the people inside. grasping at life, sam begins to see visions which could be due to the accident, but it is assumed as the witch. 

now at home, deena sees the killer at her home and he also comes after kate. due to the events prior, they believe it is peter (one of the football players) and they visit the hospital where sam is held. deena goes on a rampage telling sam to control her psychotic boyfriend. however, peter was in the hospital the whole time and is killed right in front of their eyes thus disproving the theory. good riddance to him. they run away from him and getting away safely but like heather, they unveil him and it is revealed as the same person as before: ryan torres. they go to the police but they are disregarded because ryan was killed by sheriff goode when he killed heather. they decide to take this into their own hands. outside the station, simon encounters this girl that tries to kill him. josh, (deena’s brother) who has done research on the various shadyside killers, identifies the girl who tried to kill simon as ruby lane. the weird part is that ruby’s killings were over 30 years ago. the witch from the opening scenes, sarah fier, was executed in the 1600s (when the first shadyside killing was reported). these massacres are somehow all connected to her and it could be how normal people are suddenly becoming murderers because she is seeking revenge by inhibiting unsuspecting bodies. sam is her next victim as the killers are attracted to her blood and she is seeing the visions. they make a plan to kill kate to wane away the bad spirits and bring her back to life with an epipen. it works in the end, but simon and kate are eliminated in the process by the demons. 

the remaining survivors (deena, kate, and josh) go to the police and talk about their experiences. because they aren’t willing to give up information (which i don’t know the reason; i might have overlooked it), the murders are planted on the now deceased kate and simon. (a mild rant). what is bothering me about deena is that she didn’t properly mourn her friends killed in the crossfire. she’s so selfishly in love with kate that she completely disregarded her friends death. life just seems to be all good for her as if nothing happened because she got back together with sam. freaking josh seemed to care more than she did. he stood up for them in his online chat but deena? where’s the energy. she seemed to care a tiny bit with the police officer (because as she claimed drug use is a perfect example to blame since the two sold drugs) but not enough to clear the air about the murders. idk that just rubbed me the wrong way. 

deena and sam are back together and living their best life good for them (i’m so petty lmao) deena gets a call from c berman (the sole survivor of one of the past massacres). she tells her its a little too late for the phone call because they could have used her advice when they still were fighting the demons. berman tells her that it never goes away and sarah always comes back. we see sarah etching sam’s name under ryan torres on a gravestone. sam is now possessed with sarah’s spirit and attacks deena. she ties up sam and tells josh that she isn’t acting like herself and they need to save her. to be continued. END SPOILER. 

final thoughts: i like this. i get why this is popular.  i’m usually not the biggest horror movie fan because they are always so typical and kinda corny. however, something about this feels fresh and new. the idea of a possessed witch is nothing new but i don’t think i have heard about a witch seeking revenge on her execution by passing on her witchcraft for generations. a woman’s scorn. plus we got some teenage drama mixed into it to add more dimension. i like knowing that the story continues on because i like the direction this is going. dare i say it i would put it up with scream as part of my favorites in the horror movie genre. someday i will watch the next two. i definitely recommend this movie for horror movie fans. i will give it a 8/10. 

[stahlop]

Making a Memory (1/?)

Well here it is! My submission for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer. This idea has been in my head since last summer, but I didn't have the motivation to tackle it until this year. All I knew is that I wanted some form of The Parent Trap but I didn't like the idea of Emma and Killian being divorced, and then this is what it became.

Just a warning, there is nothing supernatural for the first few chapters.

Thank you so much to @profdanglaisstuff and @thisonesatellite for being my betas and for helping me come up with ideas for this since last summer. And to @mariakov81 for also helping with ideas and for the lovely artwork you gifted me for my birthday inspired by this story.

Thank you @gingerchangeling for the amazing artwork you made for this fic! I love it so much

Summary: Hope Swan and Alice Jones meet at summer camp and immediately realize two things: they look exactly alike and they don’t like each other. But the more they delve into things the more they realize this is not just another case of The Parent Trap, and that there may be more at stake (and more danger) than they thought.

Rated T (although it could change later on)

Read on Ao3

For as long as she could remember, Hope Swan had wanted to go to sleepaway camp. Oh sure, she’d been going to regular day camps every summer since she was five, but she wanted some time away from her mom. She’d begged her every year, but Emma Swan told her every year that they couldn’t afford it (bail bonds kept them comfortable, but didn’t leave a lot for extras). And every year Hope was disappointed. But this year, the year she was 13 (14 in three months), all that changed.

Hope’s older brother, Henry, had published his first novel a year ago at the age of 28 (yes, there was a 15 year age gap between them; that’s what happens when your mom first gets pregnant at 17, she waits a while before having another kid) and now had a sequel coming out, and had offered to pay for Hope to go to camp. Six weeks away from her mom. Not that Hope didn’t love her mom, but she was getting overbearing now that she was officially a teenager. It was as if she didn’t trust her at all. Hope had asked Henry if she was the same way when he turned 13, but he just gave a shrug and left it at that. Hope figured that being 45 with a 13-year-old and being 30 with a 13-year-old were completely different. And now she was here and having a great time and making new friends (Jen and Bianca), when she discovered the Jones girl.

She hadn’t noticed her on the first day. There were two 13-year-old girl cabins and Alice Jones happened to be in the other one. But on the second day, two girls from the other cabin said hi to her and called her Alice. She’d never seen these girls, since they weren’t in her cabin, but she figured it was the second day and all, and they must have mistaken her for another blonde-haired camper. But then more girls from the other cabin started calling her Alice and one of them tried to get her to go back to the other cabin with her. It was finally at lunch on that second day that she glanced over at the other cabin’s table and noticed a girl that looked exactly like her, except instead of her shoulder-length curls, this girl had much longer curls with purple streaks in them.

Jen noticed her looking. “The nerve of her! Coming here with your face!” She said angrily.

“Well, at least I understand why people thought I was someone else now.” Hope said. Of all the places to meet her doppleganger, she never would have thought it would have been at sleepaway camp. “It’s not a big deal, people will realize we’re two separate people eventually.” She said as she watched the Alice girl laughing with girls from her own cabin.

Except they didn’t. Everyday someone called her Alice and it was irritating Hope. Yes, they looked alike, but otherwise they were very different. Alice was a lot more punk rock, what with the streaks in her hair, the fact that she wore nothing but vintage band t-shirts and frayed cutoff shorts with Converse shoes. Hope mainly wore tank tops (sometimes with an open flannel shirt over it) with Bermuda shorts and sandals. She also wore her hair up in a simple ponytail, a perfect clone of her mother. Except for her blue eyes. Her mother seemed to have no idea where those came from seeing as she had green and her father had brown, or so she’d been told. She was too young to remember him when he died. Must have had two recessive blue eyes finally meet up her mother used to joke. Hope hadn’t got close enough to Alice to look at her eyes, but she wouldn’t be surprised if she had blue eyes too.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alice Jones was a bit of an odd duck. At least, that’s what she’d been told. Her Papa joked she had “a touch of the sight”. Alice didn’t think she was that peculiar. She likened herself to Luna Lovegood from the Harry Potter series (minus the radish earrings). She just got gut feelings about people. But running into a girl who looked almost identical to herself at a summer camp was nothing she could have ever predicted. It was unnerving to see someone who looked so similar to herself but wasn’t her. It was like looking into a mirror to see a super serious version of herself. She didn’t like it one bit. And Alice liked everything. Nothing rattled her. She didn’t know why this girl did.

It wasn’t as if this girl -- Hope, she’d learned her name was Hope -- had done anything to her either. Her mere presence just left her feeling unsettled. That touch of sight her father joked that she had been sending off warning bells in her gut that something wasn’t right. But what could she do to avoid her?  Alice thought that would be easy considering the size of the camp, she just didn’t bank on Hope having many of the same interests that she did. That first day, after all the rules had been told to them, they got to try out different specials (activities) and Hope seemed to be at most of the ones Alice had also gone to, and the feeling in her gut grew worse and worse. Like they weren’t supposed to be around each other.

“Everyone deserves a chance no matter what is in their past, Starfish.” Her Papa would say to her. It had just been her and her Papa for as long as Alice could remember. She usually had trouble making friends, being slightly odd as many girls she’d tried to befriend had told her, but she loved making new friends when the opportunity arose, and if people didn’t mind her idiosyncrasies. She’d always loved playing make-believe. She would often pretend she was Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and have tea parties with her Papa and stuffed animals (Papa was always a pirate in her make-believe world though). As she got older she started sketching landscapes and the occasional self-portrait and had won several art prizes at her school and local contests. That was why she was confused about the feelings she was having concerning Hope. She should be forging a friendship with this girl, getting to know her, not feeling like she should stay as far away from her as possible. How many people got to meet someone who looked exactly like them?

“Hey, Alice, it’s time for lunch!” Viola yelled, startling Alice out of her thoughts. Alice usually loved mealtimes, she loved food, grilled cheese and onion rings being her favorite, but that was when she knew she’d see Hope and her stomach would practically rebel at a mere glance at her. She’d been so excited to finally get to go to sleepaway camp (something she’d been begging her Papa about for years). It just hadn’t been feasible on a dock manager’s salary, but this year they’d started a scholarship program and Alice had applied and received it, so here she was. Too bad her camp experience was being ruined by her weird sixth sense.

“Thanks!” Alice said getting up from her bunk and slipping on her worn, pink Converse.

Alice wondered if she would have the urge to avoid Hope the entire summer. That would definitely dampen the camp experience.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The change from avoidance to rivalry started over fencing of all things. Alice hadn’t known it was Hope that the director had pitted her against, as they were both wearing the required fencing masks and gear and it was impossible to tell who her opponent was. Alice had only recently started taking fencing lessons, something her Papa had wanted her to do, but she’d never been much for physical education or sports. She would have preferred archery or horseback riding (things she was happy she was getting to experience here at camp), but those were a bit expensive. The local YMCA offered fencing lessons for a low fee.

Her opponent was much better than she was. Alice had more of a hack at the other person with her sword approach rather than the correct stance. The other girl had much better form than she did and Alice could hear the frustrated sounds coming from her whenever Alice used two hands on her sword or kicked her opponent away (which Alice knew wasn’t legal, but this wasn’t a tournament and they were padded for goddess sake). At one point, Alice’s sword had been knocked out of her hands and she just lunged at the other girl. Alice knew she wasn’t playing by the rules, but she wanted to win and the fencing specialist hadn’t blown their whistle at her, so she kept on doing what she was doing.

Eventually, Alice ended up on her back with her opponent above her after she had tried to kick her again and her opponent had grabbed her foot instead, making Alice fall to the ground. They had definitely thrown the rules out the window, especially with her adversary completely disregarding the little footwork Alice had learned and doing swishy twists and turns. Bad form as her Papa would say. So, if she wasn’t going to play by the rules, then she wouldn’t either. Alice quickly kicked her knee upward, essentially kicking her opponent in the groin (even though she knew it wouldn’t hurt nearly as badly for a girl as it would a boy), but it was enough to push her back off of her. The distraction was enough that Alice managed to get herself back on her feet and jab the tip of her sword at the other girl’s chest. The whistle finally blew and the specialist came over asking the girls to take off their fencing masks so she could declare the winner and make sure they shook hands like good sports.

To say that both Alice and Hope were in shock when they realized they’d been fencing each other was an understatement.

“That was bad form, all that kicking you were doing.” Hope sneered at Alice.

“Me?” Alice practically screeched. “What was with all the twists and turns? Give you a leather duster and you could have been a pirate.”

“Girls,” the specialist said, trying to regain some control over the situation, “can you please just shake hands?” But both girls refused. Hope shucked off the rest of the fencing gear, threw her sword onto the ground, and huffed off while Alice actually attempted to pull her hand out of her glove for a handshake. The specialist gave a shrug to Alice and picked up the gear Hope had thrown on the ground before announcing that formal fencing lessons would be every Tuesday and Thursday during Specials time. Alice slowly took off her gear and put it in the designated bins. As much as she would enjoy fencing over the summer, running into Hope was not something she was looking forward to, so she decided to try something else to avoid her.

But it wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

Archery had been the next special Alice wanted to try. And there was Hope, already there with her arrow nocked in her bow and an arrow practically in the bullseye. After a few tries of her own (and almost hitting Hope --accidentally-- twice), Alice realized that maybe watching archery was more fun than actually trying to shoot a bow and arrow. Especially, because Hope thought she was trying to hit her on purpose.

“It was an accident.” Alice gritted through her teeth.

“Sure it was.” Hope huffed, swishing her ponytail behind her and storming off with two of her friends in tow.

“God, why is she such a bitch?” Alice’s friend, Lori, asked. “Anyone can see you’re just not that coordinated.” Lori joked. “Maybe you should just stick with art.”

“Yeah.” Said Alice sheepishly. She put the archery equipment away and headed for the art shack.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days! It had been two days and Alice was already a thorn in her side!

“She’s like your stalker. She’s always showing up where you are.” Bianca huffed, sitting down on one of the benches in the ramada. Hope had needed to be away from the prying ears of her cabin.

“Yeah! Who does she think she is? It’s like she’s trying to be you.” Jen added in angrily, having just arrived from a trip to the Snack Shack. Even though they’d only been camp friends for the past four days, Hope, Bianca, and Jen had quickly bonded the way only 13-year-olds that had to live together could. She handed out packs of candy that she had got for them, gummy worms for herself and Bianca, and a pack of black licorice for Hope.

It was true that it seemed like wherever Hope was, Alice inevitably ended up there too. “There’s really only so many places one can go here, girls. I mean, we only have so many choices.” Hope said, opening her bag of licorice and taking a bite. She still hesitated to be around Alice, but it’s not like they could go anywhere outside of the boundary of the campgrounds. “I appreciate the sentiment though.” Hope said happy for the support. “I know it’s not rational, to dislike someone just because they look almost identical to me.” Her blue eyes looked to the ground.

“Hey, no matter what, we’ve got your back.” Bianca reminded her.

“And speaking of having your back,” Jen said, pulling out a piece of paper from her back pocket, “look at this.” She unfolded the paper and smoothed it down in front of them. It was an announcement for a dance.

“They’ve invited the boys camp from across the lake!” Jen said excitedly. The flyer announced that the dance would be in one week. “I can’t wait! I’ve never been to a dance.” She pressed the flyer to her lips and kissed it.

“Want to get a first kiss?” Bianca asked teasingly.

“What, like you’ve been kissed?” Jen responded back not so teasingly.

“I’ve been kissed.” Hope spoke up to diffuse the situation. She was older than most of her cabinmates, her birthday being in September, only three months away, so she did have a little bit more experience than some of them. Both girls’ eyes lit up.

“What was it like?” Jen asked.

“I bet it was super romantic.” Bianca said dreamily.

Hope, laughed and then cringed. “Um, my best guy friend and I tried kissing a few weeks before school got out. We’ve been friends since fourth grade.” She blushed at the embarrassment of the memory, Bianca and Jen hanging on her every word. “It was tech week for our school play, Peter Pan. I was Peter. That’s how I know how to sword fight.” Bianca and Jen both gave Hope an exasperated look as she started going off topic. “ Sorry. Anyway, he was on backstage crew and we were outside waiting for our parents to come pick us up. I saw my mom’s car and as I went to give him a hug like I usually did, because that’s just how we are, and he kissed me.”

Both Bianca and Jen’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of their heads and they both had the widest grins on their faces.

“So, how was it?” Jen asked, breaking the awkward silence of them both staring at Hope.

“Wet.” The girls laughed. “And weird. We didn’t know what we were doing. And he had braces. And, I think I can wait before getting kissed again.” The girls all dissolved into giggles. “I was really glad I was going to camp for the summer so I wouldn’t have to see him everyday. We both agreed to just stay friends.” Hope had not told her mother, even though she was bursting to. Hope knew that her mother had had bad luck with men, her father on the top of that list, and she really didn’t know how her mother would react to her having been kissed. She had confessed to Henry though. He told her he was the same age when he’d had his first kiss as well, which made her feel better about the whole thing.

“That’s still so exciting!” Bianca said breathlessly and finished up the last of her gummy worms. “I don’t know how you can eat black licorice.” She made a face to show what she really thought of it.

“I don’t like sweet stuff.” Hope scoffed and took a large bite of licorice.

“Whatever.” Jen said, grabbing her trash and throwing it away. “Let’s get back to the cabin so we can figure out what we’re going to wear to this dance.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Did you hear about the dance?” Viola practically screamed as she rushed into the cabin. Alice looked up from where she’d been sketching the view from her window, not the greatest view, but Alice was trying to make her grass look more realistic and less like pencil strokes on the page.

“A dance?” Lori asked almost falling off her bunk to look at the flyer Viola had in her hands. They looked over the flyer as several other girls in the cabin also flocked over to them to peruse the flyer; all of them talking excitedly about finally getting to dress up a bit and getting to see members of the opposite sex after two weeks. This inevitably brought up the girl’s experiences with boys (not that they seemed to have a lot), a conversation that Alice felt uncomfortable with. Alice didn’t have much interest in boys yet (something she was sure her Papa was happy about). She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about them in general, let alone to do things with. She had her Papa and that’s really all she needed. That and her art. Just leave her in a beautiful location for a few hours with a sketch pad and some drawing utensils and she was happy.

“What about you, Alice?” Lori, a bushy haired girl asked after regaling the girls in the cabin with a tale of how the first guy she had kissed had also tried to cop a feel and had only discovered the tissues she’d stuffed into her bra.

“Oh, me?” Alice asked. “No kissing for me. I’m not really good with boys.” Once again, Alice was feeling like an oddball.

“Don’t worry,” said Viola, coming to sit over near Alice and taking her hand, “not all of us are boy crazy.” Viola smiled sweetly at her. Alice’s stomach nearly did a somersault.

Oh!

“Thanks.” Alice said giving a shy smile back and keeping their hands clasped a little while longer before pulling it away to continue her drawing.

Alice decided she would just find a chair out on the patio and sketch during the dance, since (according the the flyer) the whole shebang was mandatory. She would have rather stayed in her cabin during the dance instead of watching her cabinmates flirt badly with the boys.

Unfortunately, the intention of finding a boy to dance with for the night that Hope had been banking on, and the quiet drawing in the corner that Alice had hoped for (and maybe talking to Viola a bit more), did not end up coming to fruition.

It had started out great. Hope, Bianca, and Jen were in their pack and had all been asked to dance by boys in their own group. Sterling had been the one to catch Hope’s eye. He seemed quiet and reserved, and upon speaking to him for a little bit, found that he was very much into science.

“I’ve never been that good with science myself,” Hope told him sweetly when he brought up some experiment he was doing with blue lights at his camp, “but I know crime novels use blue and black lights to find blood at crime scenes.” She said hoping that she hadn’t come off as creepy. Luckily, Sterling thought it was adorable. He smiled at her and she noticed he was not wearing braces, even better.

Meanwhile, Alice had attempted to cajole Viola to come hang with her outside while she drew a picture of the lake in the moonlight. She’d brought some of her charcoal so she was making quite a mess of herself, but she wasn’t planning on doing much dancing or interacting with anyone else. “I’ll come out here later when I need a drink, okay?” Viola had said, smiling at her again. The drinks and refreshments had been set up under the patio not too far from where Alice had situated herself. She just hoped that none of the directors would notice her out here and try to make her come inside.

Alice had probably been outside all of 30 minutes when her gut started telling her something was wrong. She looked up at the sky thinking maybe rain was coming, but it was a clear, cloudless night. She looked over to the refreshment table and saw Hope talking with a boy. That must have been what set it off. She didn’t need any trouble from Hope right now, so she went back to her drawing. But it wasn’t meant to be.

After a few minutes a male voice asked her. “What are you drawing?” Alice looked up to see the boy that Hope had just been talking to looking over her shoulder at the barely started drawing.

“Um,” Alice said nervously, “just drawing the lake in the moonlight.” She looked back at the landscape in front of her determined not to continue this conversation. The last thing she needed was for Hope to have another reason to not like her just because this boy wanted to talk to her too.

She continued to draw and glanced over at the refreshment table to see a few girls she didn’t recognize hanging out and talking, when he spoke again.

“Are you just going to ignore me all night? I thought we’d hit it off pretty well in there.” Alice closed her eyes and gave a nervous laugh. Of course he thought she was Hope. Her doppelganger must have either gone to the restroom or ditched him and now he was out here thinking she was the girl he’d been talking to all evening.

“I’m not Hope.” she said plainly, still not looking up from her drawing.

“Are you seriously trying to pretend you’re someone else right now?” He asked incredulously. Alice rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of this whole situation.

“I’m not Hope. We just look alike. Tell me, how did I all of a sudden get purple streaks in my hair and have charcoal on my hands if I was with you?” She huffed. The boy opened his mouth to say something when the girl in question came out the double doors and immediately stopped at the scene in front of her.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Hope asked, hands crossing over her chest like armor. She was glaring at Alice, like the boy talking to her was her fault.

“I…, I mean…” The boy looked very confused as he turned his head looking at both girls.

“Mistaken identity. He thought I was you.” Alice said finally putting her drawing notebook and charcoal down and getting up from the chair she’d been sitting in all night. Her explanation did not seem to pacify Hope at all.

“Seriously, Sterling?” Hope walked over, the niggling in Alice’s gut getting worse. “You couldn’t tell the difference between us?” Sterling, for his part, had turned bright red and seemed quite embarrassed about the mix-up. “And you!” Hope said, swinging her body toward Alice’s. “I’m sure you didn’t have any part of this at all. I saw you out here before when we were talking. Hanging on every word.”

Alice was very confused as to what was happening now. She’d been sitting outside drawing and minding her own business. She hadn’t encouraged the boy in any way and now Hope was accusing her of intentionally, what, pretending to be her in this whole thing?”

“Look, Hope, I didn’t…” But Alice never got to finish her sentence as she felt a stinging sensation overcome her whole face. Hope stood across from her staring at her own hand as if she couldn’t believe she’d just slapped Alice. Sterling snuck off as the gaggle of girls who’d been chatting at the refreshment table stopped to watch the scene that was unfolding.

Alice held her hand to her face, not believing that Hope had had the audacity to slap her. And at the same moment, rage at this whole situation finally reached its boiling point, and Alice slapped Hope back, leaving a charcoal handprint across Hope’s face. Alice immediately put both hands over her mouth, horrified at what she had done.

“I’m sorry.” Alice said quickly, trying to diffuse the whole situation, but Hope 's eyes were practically black from her seething anger and she grabbed Alice’s hair and yanked her to the ground.

Alice was vaguely aware that there were screams coming from the other participants of the dance. That someone had yelled for the director, Mrs. Hatfield and the director of the boys camp. That Lori and Viola and Hope’s two friends all came out to try and convince the girls to stop fighting. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

As Hope dragged Alice down to the ground, Alice grabbed Hope around the knees, pulling her down to the ground as well. Hope immediately tried to gain the upper hand by straddling Alice and trying to slap her again, but Alice managed to roll her over so she was on top. They both kept rolling each other over, trying to regain the upper hand when they hit the refreshment table. More screaming abounded as the table came crashing down. Alice managed to avoid the punch from drenching her (as she happened to be on top when it came down on Hope), but Hope managed to wrench her over right as the ranch dressing came down on her face.

“Girls! Girls!” Mrs. Hatfield screamed. The director of the boys camp finally managed to pull Hope off of Alice (who now also had bits of chips in her hair), and get the two girls separated.

Mrs. Hatfield had seen enough. “In all my years,” she said, trying to maintain some semblance of control in her voice, when all she wanted to do was rant and rave at these girls, “this has been the most revolting, the most disgusting display of hooliganism we have ever had.” Alice hung her head in shame. For once her gut had led her down the wrong path and she would have to pay the price. “And from sisters who should be leading by example…”

“We’re not sisters!” Hope exclaimed, appalled that she had been brought into this as an instigator. Mrs. Hatfield’s mouth dropped and she looked from Hope to Alice and then back to Hope again.

“But they are, aren’t they?” Mrs. Hatfield asked the two other directors who were assessing all the food and drink that were now on the floor.

“Uh, no.” said one director with curly, red hair  who looked between the two girls. “We have here, Alice Jones and Hope Swan. They just happen to look alike.”

Mrs. Hatfield looked at both of them again as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, but then gave up on trying to figure out why they looked so much alike when they weren’t actually related.

“You two will clean up this mess and then tomorrow you will pack your bags to move into the Get Along Cabin up the hill.” She said firmly.

“But…” Hope started to protest. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten herself into this situation. The moment she had slapped Alice she knew she’d been in the wrong, but it was like she couldn’t stop herself. Mrs. Hatfield cut her off with a look that would stop the deadliest murderer from coming anywhere near her.

“You have two hours to make this back porch spotless and then tomorrow you will have until noon to pack up your stuff. Are we clear?” She barked at them. Hope and Alice nodded. Mrs. Hatfield walked past the two sullen girls, motioned for the rest of the campers to follow her, and left the two girls on the back porch. Hope and Alice looked at each other, neither one wanting to admit that they were somewhat at fault, and began to start cleaning up what they could. Alice realized, after they cleaned the entire back porch, that her drawing notebook and charcoal must have ended up in the lake during the scuffle.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope was determined to ignore Alice. Since they had been made to inhabit the Get Along Cabin, Hope had not said one word to her. Alice watched the first two days as Hope would get up in the morning with the camp radio station that blared into the cabin at 7AM, grab her things for a shower (their cabin boasted it’s own bathroom complete with shower, so they always had hot water and only had to share with each other, and not trek down the hill to the communal one), got ready after her shower, and headed down to the mess hall for breakfast. Alice liked to take her time in the mornings, especially since she and Hope had to also share the Get Along Table for all their meals. Luckily, they were able to join their own cabins for daily activities, but meals and free time were all spent together so they could learn to ‘get along’. Alice kept herself busy reading and rereading books she had brought with her, or drawing in another one of her notebooks. The bad gut feeling that Alice always had around Hope had calmed down immensely since they’d been made to cohabitate, and Alice, for the first time, wondered what her gut had been trying to tell her.

Hope, on the other hand, knew this whole thing was her fault but refused to admit it. She was being stubborn (like her mother). She had no idea what had compelled her to slap Alice when seeing the look on Sterling’s face told her that he had honestly mixed up the two girls. She just knew that she was so angry that a boy she kind of liked couldn’t tell the difference between them and it had really made her angry.  She felt that her whole camp experience had been ruined by this girl and no amount of ‘I’m sorry’s’ were going to make up for that. Even if she needed to be the one to apologize to Alice. So she continued to ignore her instead.

Hope had known Alice liked to draw, but she didn’t realize how much she drew and just how good she actually was. She’d been drawing the past two days any time they were in the cabin. After each picture was finished being drawn, she would carefully rip it out of the book and tape it up on the wall by her bed. Many of them seemed to be landscape drawings of a small town that boasted an old clock tower above, what Alice had mumbled, was a library. Other drawings were of people that Hope had originally assumed were in Alice’s life, but when she drew a picture of what looked like a huntress version of Snow White and Prince Charming, Hope assumed that they were either part of Alice’s imagination, or maybe video game or cartoon characters. Hope still refused to talk to Alice so she couldn’t ask her what they were all about.

On the third day of their isolation, it rained. Cold, windy rain that made the campgrounds into a giant mud pit, so everyone had to stay in their cabins after lunch. Which meant Hope and Alice were stuck with each other until either the rain stopped or dinnertime. Hope was bored out of her mind. Unlike Alice, she had not thought to bring cabin activities to do when stuck in a cabin. She figured being at camp all the entertainment was provided for you. She hadn’t counted on downtime due to a rainy day.

It was unbearably muggy in the cabin, even though the rain brought cooler temperatures, the humidity was still clinging making Hope feel hot and sticky even though she had goosebumps. She figured opening the window a touch wouldn’t be that bad, just enough to cool the room down, or at least give her a bit of a breeze in which to lower her body temperature.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t what happened. Hope attempted to partially open the window, but it was as if it had a mind of its own and sprang open all the way. One little tug and rain and wind came pouring into the room!

“Oh, crap!” Hope exclaimed as she tried to get the window back down. A gust of wind and a torrential downpour of rain came sweeping into the room.

“HELP!” Hope screamed as papers started getting blown around the room and her bedspread started to get soaked.

Alice had been listening to music through an old iPod (cell phones were not allowed at camp, and even if they were, the reception was probably terrible) with earbuds in her ears when she heard Hope screaming. She took a deep breath, wondering what had happened that made Hope actually want to speak to her. She looked over to see rain pouring in the window onto Hope’s bed, and her drawings being blown off the walls and getting absolutely soaked.

She immediately tore the earbuds out of her ears and ran over to help. It took both of them, but they eventually got the window down to just a crack, enough to help cool the room but not enough for the rain and wind to get in.

“Oh, no!” Hope said, looking at the mess that had befallen the room. She started picking up the drawings that had been blown off the walls. “I’m so sorry.”

Just a few days ago Alice’s gut would’ve made her believe that Hope had done this on purpose and she would have been seething with anger. But today, today her gut was telling her Hope was being completely sincere. And why hadn’t it been doing this before. Why had she thought Hope was this horrible person after barely meeting her and over a stupid boy? She was 13 for goddess sake, she should know better than that.

“It’s okay.” Alice said, trying to save some of the pieces. She’d try and hang them over the radiator and see if they could be salvaged.

“Did you draw all these?” Hope asked, picking up one of the least wet pieces of artwork. It was one that Alice had done based off a book she’d read. It was Red Riding Hood, but retold as if she were also the wolf. Alice had drawn her with her red cloak billowing around her with a wolfish grin upon her lips. It was a stunning picture.

“Yeah. They’re based on a book I read.” Alice said not wanting to give Hope more information then she’d asked for. Their relationship was tentative at this point and her drawings were a sore spot for her when they were made fun of.

“They’re really good.” Hope said, now looking at the picture of the Evil Queen from Snow White. She definitely did not look like the Disney version, with the high ponytail and low plunging dress with bustier. “What book?”

“Um, it’s a new series. The first book came out a year ago, the sequel should be out right when camp ends. It’s called Once Upon a Time.” Alice gathered the rest of her drawings up from Hope as she explained the book. When it had come out, Alice felt as if someone had reached straight into her dreams and put them on the page. She’d always loved a good alternative fairy tale, but she’d seen these characters in her mind for years. It was like the author had created these characters directly from her brain.

Hope gasped. “Once Upon a Time by Henry Mills?” She asked incredulously. Alice nodded and Hope broke out into a huge grin. “That’s my brother. He wrote it.” Alice almost dropped the pictures on the damp floor again.

“Your brother is Henry Mills, the author of the book I’m currently obsessed with?” Alice couldn’t believe it. She’d almost become mortal enemies with the sister of her most favorite author. Stupid gut feeling. “You must tell me everything you know about the sequel?” She asked, now overly excited.

“Uh, I actually haven’t read it.” Hope admitted. She wasn’t much for fairy tales. She preferred crime and mystery novels. Alice’s eyes almost bugged out of her head at her admission.

“Your brother wrote a book and you didn’t even read it?” Alice asked, appalled. She ran over to her bed and Hope thought she might be ignoring her again, but then she realized she was searching through her belongings.”Ah ha!” she exclaimed when she found what she was looking for. It was a copy of Henry’s book with a brown cover that was supposed to mimic leather with gold lettering.

“Isn’t your last name Swan?” Alice asked as she brought the book over to Hope.

“Pen name.” Hope said, shrugging. She opened the book to the table of contents. She knew it was a book of fairy tales, that much Henry had told her, but Hope preferred reality to fantasy. Something she definitely picked up from her mother. Give her a good crime drama any day over a sappy Disney movie. The first chapter was entitled Wanted: Snow White for Crimes Against the Queen: Murder, Treason, Treachery. Well that was definitely different from the Disney version. The second chapter was titled A Wolf in Red Clothing, the third simply Elf Tonic.

Hope turned the page to the first chapter to see a wanted poster illustrating the chapter title. It was a pencil drawing of Snow White on a wanted poster with her crimes listed below her face. The drawing looked slightly familiar to Hope. Something about the chin, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Henry probably had it around his apartment when he was in the development stages and she’d seen it there and forgotten. But it tickled at her brain.

“They don’t seem to be your typical fairy tale fare do they?” Hope said flipping through to see other pencil drawn illustrations throughout the book.

“They are so much better. No damsels in distress in need of rescuing by a big strong prince, lots of women power and what not. Characters popping in and out of other fairy tale’s stories, and earned True Love’s Kiss. Your brother has a very vivid imagination!” Alice said excitedly.

“What’s this?” Hope asked, flipping to the final picture in the book, a baby being put into what looked like a tree with the name Emma on her baby blanket.

“It’s the whole impetus for the next book! What happens to Emma in the Land Without Magic after her father saved her from the Evil Queen’s curse to make everyone unhappy forever. She’s supposed to be the Savior and bring back the happy endings!”  Hope ran her fingers over the picture, almost as if she were looking at a memory, rather than a fictional drawing.

“Our mother’s name is Emma.” Hope said pensively. “I didn’t realize Henry named a character after her. She’s amazing. Raised both of us without a dad. I guess he was in our lives for a little bit, considering the age difference between me and Henry, but he died when I was two, so it’s just been us and her for pretty much my whole life. She didn’t grow up with any family, so I guess it’s fitting...” Hope said wistfully, her heart suddenly so thankful that Henry decided to name a character in his book after their mother and make her the hero she always felt she was. “What about you, Alice? What’s your mother like?” Hope asked, wanting to take the spotlight off of her.

The smile that had been on Alice’s face vanished. She didn’t necessarily look sad, just void of emotion. “I don’t have a mother, just me and my Papa. My mother also died when I was two.” She took the book back from Hope, closed it, then sat to face Hope. “That’s weird, right? That both of us lost a parent when we were two?” Alice looked at Hope expectantly, waiting for something more from her, but she just looked down at the ground.

“There was a fire at our apartment. Papa got me out, Mama wasn’t so lucky. After that we moved out of Boston to the country. He still works in the city though, he just wanted something better for us and he didn’t want reminders of my mother all over the place. I don’t even have any pictures of her, something about them getting all burned up in the fire. I’m not sure why they didn’t have any in the Cloud or Google Photos or whatever. The only picture I’ve ever seen of my mother is a pencil sketch my Papa did when they first met.” Alice set her head back against Hope’s bed frame where they’d been sitting down on the floor. She glanced over at Hope who was looking over at her with wide eyes. “What?” Alice said, concerned.

“My father died in a fire too.” Hope barely whispered. “Mom got me and Henry out, but she couldn’t get back in for him. And the only pictures I’ve seen of him are from when he and my mom originally met, before he left her the first time. Somehow, all our pictures were lost in the fire, which, like you said, makes no sense seeing as we all have computers and smart phones and what not.” It was Alice who now had wide eyes when Hope looked over at her. “Don’t you think that’s weird?” Hope continued, “That we look alike and that we both lost a parent in a fire and that we have barely any pictures of the other parent. What’s your dad’s name?” Hope asked, all sense of pretense going out the window. She suddenly felt like they could be connected somehow. This overwhelming heaviness had invaded her body and she needed answers that could make it go away. There was no way they had this much in common without there being something connecting them.

“Killian Jones.” Alice answered immediately, because her gut was going crazy, practically pushing her to find these answers. “And your mother?”

“Emma Swan.” Hope replied. They sat in silence, not sure where to go from there. The answers hadn’t brought any huge revelation. Neither name meant anything to the other.

“When’s your birthday?” Alice asked. “Mine is September 27th.” If they had the same birthday that could still mean something. Maybe the reason for no photographs had been because of something else.

“September 28th.” Hope said. They both deflated a little. Until…

“What time were you born, Hope? I was born at 9:07 at night. I know because Papa always reminds me that it was the beginning of this huge lunar eclipse that also happened to fall on the Harvest Moon that year and it was called the Super Moon, so he used to call me his Super Harvest Baby.” Alice smiled at the memory. She looked over at Hope whose mouth was practically on the ground.

“I was born at 12:27, right when it ended. My mom also used to call me her Super Harvest Baby.” Hope paused as if she were thinking of the next thing to say. “This can’t be a coincidence. I...I,” She paused again, trying to get the right words out. “I think we might be twins, just born on either side of midnight.” Hope struggled to get the words out, her eyes now filling with tears at the prospect that she might not only have a sister she didn’t know about, but a twin sister at that.

The two girls stared at each other for a while, not sure what to do with the information that they both felt was the truth. Hope had felt the weight that had been pressing on her lift the moment she had suggested they were twins. Alice’s gut had stopped sending her warning signals too. They both felt this had to be true, they just couldn’t figure out how it could be true.

“Do you think we were separated somehow? Maybe our mother and father adopted us and we’re not biologically theirs?” Alice wondered aloud.

“No. I’m the spitting image of my mom, and so are you I suppose, just with blue eyes instead of green. And my dad had brown eyes, so I know they didn’t come from him.” Hope said, disputing Alice’s theory right off the bat.

“But my I have my dad’s blue eyes, which would also mean you do too.” Alice contemplated.

“Maybe they lied to us about the fire. It seems awfully convenient now that our other parent is dead and all the pictures of us with that parent disappeared.” Alice said grimly. She really didn’t like the thought of her Papa lying to her about something that important, but it seemed the only logical conclusion at the moment.

“Henry!” Hope all but yelled in Alice’s face. Alice looked at her confused. “Henry! He was 15 when I was born. Certainly he would know the whole story. Hopefully, he would tell me the whole story.”  She suddenly looked concerned. “We need to talk to him somehow. I don’t want to freak him out in a letter, which means I somehow need to call him.” She started pacing the cabin. “But the directors won’t let us use phones. Even if we were in better standing than we currently were.” Hope said, getting more and more distressed.

“I think I can help you with that part.” Alice announced as her face widened into a huge smile.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was lunch time the next day before Alice finally clued in Hope as to what she meant. Since they were in the Get Along Cabin, they were also forced to eat lunch at their own table away from the rest of the cabins. But Alice’s friend, Lori, from her former cabin, had managed to sneak a cell phone into camp and was using that to get money, food, and other sundries from her cabin mates.

Alice walked by her former cabin after receiving her lunch in line and gave a series of knocks on the table as she walked by. That was apparently the signal to let Lori know that she was interested in using the phone. Alice continued walking to the table she and Hope shared to eat lunch.

“That’s it?” Hope asked, having watched Alice give the signal.

“Yes. She’ll get in touch with us at some point today. You better have some money ready for her or she won’t give us anything.” Alice said, taking a bite of her sandwich which looked to her to be just orange marmalade and bread. Hope grimaced.

“What, it’s good.” Alice said, defending her sandwich choices.

They didn’t hear from Lori until after lights out that night. Hope’s anxiety was getting the best of her, convinced that her mother had been lying to her about her father her whole life. Alice was taking it more in stride, as she didn’t get flustered easily. That and her gut didn’t seem to sense that her father had ever lied to her, which made things more confusing.

A series of knocks, similar to the ones Alice had tapped on Lori’s table earlier that day, sounded from the other side of the door. Alice knocked back before letting Lori in. Hope rolled her eyes over the whole spy scenario they had going on.

After the door closed, Alice finally spoke. “Hope needs to make a phone call.” Lori looked at Hope, only knowing that she was the rival of her friend.

“Why should I help her?” Lori asked scrutinizing Hope who sat on her bed practically ignoring the whole conversation. “She doesn���t even look like she wants my help.”

“I do want your help.” Hope said with a sigh. “I need to call my brother. It’s an emergency and it concerns both myself and Alice, so name me your price so we can just get this over with, please.”

Lori arched a bushy eyebrow at Alice who nodded in agreement. “20 bucks.” she said simply.

“20 bucks for a phone call?” Hope asked incredulously, but this phone call was important and she really needed to talk to Henry.

“Hey, you took way more than that playing poker the other night.” Lori retaliated. Hope sighed. Lori was right. She’d walked away with at least $40 in quarters and ones. Hope walked over to her bed and pulled out a small box from under it and grabbed twenty ones. She stood up and walked back over to Lori and gave her the money. Lori made a big show of counting the money out before handing the phone over to Hope.

Hope dialed the number for Henry’s phone, thankful that she’d had his cell phone number memorized since she was six in case of emergencies, and praying that he answered even though it would come up as an unknown number. Surprisingly, he answered on the first ring.

“Hello?” Came the voice of her brother from the other side of the line.

“Oh, Henry, thank goodness. It’s Hope.” She said relieved.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at camp?” He asked, and then, “Are you alright? Do I need to come rescue you?” Big Brother Henry, always looking out for Little Sister.

“No, everything’s fine. Or, well….I don’t really know how to explain it.” She paused trying to get her bearings. Alice had distracted Lori from listening in by showing Lori her newest drawings that she’d done since moving into the Get Along Cabin. It seemed that Lori was a big fan of Alice’s artwork. Hope took a deep breath, “Um, there’s a girl here, who looks almost, well no, she is, identical to me. Her name is Alice.” She paused trying to see if she could hear any type of reaction from Henry, but there was nothing but the sound of his breathing on the other end. “Anyway, we have some questions, and, well, I thought you might be able to answer them.”

Henry remained silent for so long that Hope almost had to check the phone to see if they were still connected. After what seemed like forever, she heard Henry sigh.

“Do you have a day when your camp goes into town that I could possibly meet you?” He asked, and then, “Meet you and Alice?”

Hope looked over at the camp calendar that showed all the outings the camp would take during the six weeks. Sure enough, there was a town day coming up in two days. Hope told Henry this and they made plans to meet at a small coffee shop that Henry found through Google Maps.

“Do you know who she is, Henry? Do you know anything about what is going on?” Hope asked, her voice sounding really small.

Again, a resounding silence on Henry’s side. Hope could almost see him warring with himself whether to tell her anything or wait until he saw her in two days, and then she heard him sigh. The sigh she recognized as the Little Sister had won sigh.

“She’s your sister. You and Alice are twins.”

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @cssns @itsfabianadocarmo