#hopefully we get to ask him about the whole descender stuff

[dustofthedailylife]

Every time I start rambling about Genshin lore I feel like the biggest lunatic on this planet... 😂

#🍁 dust dons the tinfoil hat #like there is so much to unpack #and everyone is just being quiet about it in game #like TELL ME GUYS #I know I'm not here to destroy hilichurl towers ad jump on bouncy mushrooms day in and day out #I actually cannot wait for 3.5 and Dain #hopefully we get to ask him about the whole descender stuff #because if we don't #you may actually be able to watch me succumb to insanity live and in color #genshin impact

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Close shave: 10 Oct. Suptober

Dean yawned and leaned against the island to observe. Cas's hair had curled a little in the steam from the pan and Dean's fingers itched to pet it. "What's porridge?" he asked instead.

"There are several versions in various cultures," Cas said, "but we asked Eileen and she said oats."

"So it's oatmeal?"

deancas ust

Metal ringing woke Dean from the dead sleep of a glorious afternoon nap. He staggered into the bunker kitchen ready to fight, an impulse short circuited by the way his sock feet slipped on the tile once he'd descended the stairs.

"Sorry," Jack said. "I dropped a lid."

"To what? Sounded like the whole pan rack exploded in here." Dean's attempt at sternness was undercut by his voice crackling like a tween's as he regained his balance. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just helping Cas make porridge." Jack went back to rooting through the pantry. "Dried fruit would be good, I think."

Cas was tending something in a small pan on the stove. "This is almost done. If we want to stir the fruit in now, I think it will reconstitute in the milk."

Dean yawned and leaned against the island to observe. Cas's hair had curled a little in the steam from the pan and Dean's fingers itched to pet it. "What's porridge?" he asked instead.

"There are several versions in various cultures," Cas said, "but we asked Eileen and she said oats."

"So it's oatmeal?"

"We're stealing some of Sam's," Jack said, sprinkling a handful of cherries into the pan. "Hopefully he won't mind."

"Nah," Dean said. 

He watched for another minute, rubbing sleep from his eye. Side by side, Cas and Jack were so much like a biological parent and child – same mannerisms, similar features – it was slightly spooky. Not that biology was necessary to make a family, Dean knew. Just that… It sometimes struck him funny. Made his chest ache. 

"You wanna try some?" Jack asked him while Cas scraped sludge into two bowls.

"He can have my portion," Cas said, a smile at the corner of his mouth as he made eye contact with Dean.

Dean's stomach growled. It had been all of two hours since he'd had a meal. 

At the kitchen table, staring down into the bowl, he felt less hungry, more despondent. He'd never been an oatmeal aficionado. Growing up, he and Sam sometimes ate the instant stuff with the consistency of glue. Cold cereal was easier to contend with in a motel room; untoasted Pop Tarts were more manageable in a car; and on the road, an old fashioned Pig 'n a Poke was the undisputed champion, even if it killed a guy repeatedly.

He bought himself some time by asking, "Why'd you get a hankering for porridge anyway?"

"Oh," Jack said, "we watched Wallace and Gromit: A Close Shave. There was a cyberdog and a bunch of lost sheep and a malfunctioning porridge robot."

Literally none of that sentence made any sense to Dean except the part where a movie (a movie?) had been watched without him.

"You were napping," Cas reminded him, having – apparently – accurately read whatever confusion was in Dean's face.

"This is good," Jack said to Cas, sounding surprised. "I like the chewiness."

Dean was so depressed about having to try the porridge he could feel his body attempting to go to sleep again to protect his digestive tract. No. Dammit. He was an adult who wanted to experience new things. He blinked open his eyes widely, wielded his spoon with fierce determination, and took a big bite of gloop.

The first second was horrifying, but the mouthful immediately improved thereafter. The oats were chewy, though not in an off-putting way, and the flavor was lightly nutty and salty and brown sugar sweet, with a little pop of sour from one of the cherries. 

"Not bad," he had to admit. "Not bad at all."

"I can follow directions," Cas said, with more humor than defensiveness. 

"First time for everything." Dean grinned quickly between bites and went back to devouring the porridge like a starving dog.

"Do you know how to make oatmeal cookies?" Cas asked him.

"Ooh, yeah, do you?" Jack chimed in.

"Not really," Dean said, "but we can look up a recipe later."

"I'm shadowing Jody tomorrow," Jack reminded him.

"Well," Dean said, "we can wait until you're back." He'd forgotten he and Cas would be alone in the bunker for a day or two, assuming Sam and Eileen stayed out on a hunt for a while longer. He kept his eyes on his emptied bowl. "Or, y'know, me and Cas could make a small batch, just like a trial run."

He chanced looking up at Cas and let himself get lost in that intense blue for a second. 

"Sounds like a plan," Cas said softly.

"Great." Jack was already putting his empty bowl in the sink. "Do you want me to help do the dishes?"

"We can wash them up," Dean said, already thinking about standing next to Cas with their hands knocking against each other in soapy water. 

Cas looked like he was thinking the same thing.

Fuck it, Dean thought, and slid his hand beneath Cas's, right there at the table. Cas gripped him tight, as usual.

#suptober23 #deancas #destiel #spn #fic #snippetfic #suptober

[autumnalwalker]

Empty Names - 21 - Old Flame

Author's Note: In which Eris gets a phone call from her ex, hunts down an eldritch horror and gets backstory trauma put on display. And backstory happy stuff too. Lots of Eris backstory this chapter all around. I think this might be one of my favorite chapters I've written so far for this story, even if it did come out more like three chapters in a trenchcoat. Maybe one of these days I'll go back and split this chapter and the other overly long ones into separate parts/posts to be more digestible. More spoiler-y commentary in the tags. Wordcount: 16,606 Content Warnings: Fantasy fight scene violence. Blood. Trauma flashbacks. Loss of sense of self. Suicide mention. Mild body horror. Brief mentions of sex and kink without detail.

<-Previous Chapter Masterpost Next Chapter->

For all the pocket dimensions Eris has passed in and out of, somehow these past few days have been her first time leaving the country while, strictly speaking, remaining on Earth.  Their last mission - somehow the word feels less silly when Road is around - involved helping a young man sort through the collection of cursed and haunted artifacts filling the house he’d just inherited from some mysterious distant uncle.  The unlucky heir had found the experience harrowing enough that he took the amnestic Road offered him afterward, but that still left a couple dozen dangerously enchanted items in need of proper disposal.  Eris had been able to call up Preacher from her monster hunter contacts for a good old fashioned Catholic exorcism on a few, others were handled by Road and Ashan performing some more esoteric rituals, and three were set aside for storage in some basement of the Bridgewood Manor for Sullivan to take care of.  That all left seven objects that Road insisted would be best handled by returning them to their rightful resting places.

Hence the current international road trip with Road while Lacuna and Ashan stayed behind to watch the office.  When Road had said they could just about get anywhere on the planet in three hours or less, Eris had taken it for a boast.  After seventy-two hours of making more jumps through bridges and pocket dimensions than she’d previously made in the seven years since she first found Crossherd, she’s reminded that Road doesn’t make boasts.  France, Peru, Kenya, Romania, India, Korea… and who knows how many other countries they technically passed through for a few minutes between bridges in between those stops.

“So, what’s the fastest way from Seoul to Vancouver?” Eris asks Road as she climbs into the driver’s seat of her van.

The third-to-last artifact on their dropoff list - a spirit of a blacksmith haunting the last sword it ever made - has been picky about who it will allow itself to be passed down to.  It’s been insistent about being in the hands of “a true craftsman of its bloodline,” and so far none of its descendents in its home country that she and Road have talked to have made the cut.  Hopefully a cousin in Canada with a 3D modeling job and a resin printer for making tabletop wargame miniatures will satisfy the spirit more than a restaurant owner who’s long since given up doing his own cooking.

“If we were walking, there’s a noodle place I know a few blocks away that’s in six different cities and once.  Depending on what we order and how fast we eat, we could probably get there in twenty or thirty minutes.  Driving through, probably best we go back through the bridge we came here from, then a series of brief transits from Mumbai, to Dubai, to Cambrai, to Quebec, to Vancouver.  Should be about an hour if traffic is good.”

“Rhyming our way to France, and then making the French connection to Canada?”

“It might be silly, but it works,” Road says with a chuckle.   “Bridges and pocket dimension links have sprouted up from stranger things.”

“Are you sure we’re actually on an achor world?  This has been a whole lot of holes and folds in space we’ve been going through.  It’s all starting to make the firm bedrock of reality that everything’s tied down to feel more like a sponge.”

“Now you know why the powers that be in Crossherd and similar hub dimensions are so insistent on the Masquerade.  Not even most people in the know Backstage have any idea just how… loose… everything really is.”

Eris stays silent for a bit to let that sink in.  And to concentrate on driving in a city with street signs in a language she’s had scant opportunity to practice since her parents kicked her out nearly a decade ago.  She knew better than to expect anything familiar here, in the birthplace of a grandmother she’d never met that looked nothing like how it would have back before that grandmother met her grandfather and moved with him back overseas.  A grandmother she herself probably looks nothing like.  Allegedly her father had taken more after his father and passed that on to her.  Still, both the arrival and the leaving of this city brought an irrational twinge of hope that she might glimpse something of one of the heritages her parents had been so weirdly insistent about cutting out of their lives in favor of a futile attempt to blend in and assimilate.  She’d gotten the same feeling when stopping in India on this trip too, and nothing had come of it there either.  It’d probably be the same if she ever went to Mexico, although that unmet grandparent had supposedly been a second generation immigrant.

But hey, on the bright side she’s driving again, even if it is in city traffic at the moment.  Between Crossherd’s walkability, the trees at the Bridgewood Estate, and the unexpected lack of monster corpses in need of disposal since joining up with Road, she’s barely been behind the wheel in the past two months.  Fortunately, the heavily refurbished van turned out to be just about perfect for transporting a pile of cursed artifacts that were too volatile to shove into bigger-on-the-inside containers.  Maybe one of these days when they all have some downtime she’ll talk the others into a more recreational road trip somewhere.  It’d get Lacuna out of her basement lab and would probably be a brand new experience for Ashan.

“By the way,” Road says at a red light, snapping Eris out of her traffic-induced musings, “I’ve noticed these past couple days that you’ve been changing up how you refer to me mid-conversation.”

“Just going with what felt right.  My bad for not running it by you first though.”

“No, no, I’m just surprised is all…  How could you tell?”

“There’s this thing you do with your voice.  Your body language and posture too, but mostly your voice.  You’ve got three or four different modes of presentation, I guess you could call it, that you’ll settle into as a default for most of the day and shapeshift your jacket to match, but then throughout the day in shorter bursts you’ll shift in and out of those other modes while your appearance stays the same.”  Eris raises an eyebrow at him before turning her gaze back to the traffic that’s begun moving with the greenlight.  “Am I wrong?”

Road lets out a laugh that peters out into a bemused sigh.  “You’re the first person I’ve met other than Sullivan to pick up on that,” she says to Eris.  “It feels nice to be seen like that.  I knew you were the right one to bring along on this trip.”

“I’ve been wondering about that actually.  Why did you pick me for this?  Sure, I’ve got the van, but we’ve got one in the office’s garage that we’ve still never taken out for a spin and I know you know how to drive.”

“Partly I figured you would be the best at resisting any influence our backseat passengers start acting up.”

“I’d think the wizard would be the ideal choice for that.”

“Sure, he has his defenses, the same as any other properly trained mage, but even before putting this team together, I’ve always felt you were strong-willed enough not to need such techniques.”

A rapidly shifting sky seen through bloody water.  A sense of peace and warmth despite the icy depths.  A steady fame from the tip of a white wand.  Active thought flowing out to feed the fire.  Smooth skin where a scar should be.  A flood of lost memories.  A sun held between her -

Eris pushes the memories of helplessness back down.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” she replies.

“And I wouldn’t be so sure of selling yourself short,” Road says.  “Nevertheless, the bigger reason I asked you to come with me for this is that you know how to talk to people.”

“Eh, my Spanish is fluent and my German is passable, but we just saw that my Korean is rusty as Hell and my Hindi is even worse.  I never did get around to learning French beyond a handful of tourist phrases, and I don’t know a lick of Romanian.  Again, Ashan seems like the better fit with the translation charm.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“You’re right.”

“Then why play dumb?”

The van reaches another intersection just in time for the light to turn red.  

Eris turns answers over in her mind.

Why?

Reflex?  Humility?  Habit?

Why would that be a reflex?  When did that happen?  How did she let it?

It’s been a long time.

Was it when she started hanging out at a bar full of adrenaline junkies with a deathwish?

Was it when she chose the bloody rush of killing monsters with her bare hands over college despite her scholarship qualifications?

Was it when she got accused of secretly being a boy and on drugs for being too good at sports in junior high?

It’s been a long time.

The light turns green.

“I guess I’m not used to anyone wanting me around for much other than to be the big strong one who’s good at hitting and breaking stuff,” Eris answers.

“Again, you’re selling yourself short.  Do you think that’s what Lacuna wants you around for?  Or how Ashan sees you when the two of you linger in the kitchen after the rest of us leave?”

“Those are personal relationships, it’s not the same thing.  Besides, Sully’s made it abundantly clear what he thinks of me and what I got hired to do for you two.”

“He has, hasn’t he?  I’m sorry about that, I really am.  Sullivan, for better or worse, has some consistent blindspots with his biases and isn’t half as good at reading people as he thinks he is.  Especially anyone that’s even remotely similar to him.”

“Okay, now that’s a low blow.  He and I are not alike”

“I mean it as a compliment, really.  I’ve never met anyone so loyal or so fiercely protective of the people he cares about.  I see that in you too, except you still have it in you to have some compassion for anyone outside those close to you.  And, of course, you’re both incredibly skilled at doing violence and enjoy it, even if the reasons are different.  But you’re both more than that too.  Even with this mission he’s the one who’s been doing the genealogical digging and messaging me with suggestions of where to go and who to take these artifacts to, despite that taking time away from his ongoing investigation.”

“Speaking of that,” Eris says, “what have you had Sully working on that’s so secret?  Not that I’m complaining, but I don’t think I’ve seen the guy since the office opened up.”

“You don’t know?”

“Obviously not.  And every other time I’ve asked something’s conveniently come up for you to change the subject.”

“Strange.  I could have sworn I told you.  It must have just slipped… my… mind…  again…”

A handful of times, on particularly bad nights, Eris has sat with Lacuna when she just sort of shut down.  Those instances were always rough, but seeing Road of all people do it out of the blue like this is chilling.  Like the sun going out and revealing that it’s just been a big light bulb hanging from a poorly-painted ceiling this whole time.  

Lacuna never snapped back to normal abruptly enough to make Eris question if she'd just imagined it though.

“Anyway,” Road resumes, “remember our first mission as a team?”

“It’s barely been two months.”

“So it has.  Regardless, he’s been investigating what caused a dragon and a Culescun bone ship not outfitted for inter-world travel to get drawn into a crossover point and try to occupy the same space at the same time.  More specifically, he’s been tracking down whomever it was that blew up the nearby lighthouse shortly after we left and trying to figure out if they’re connected to a different case of an unknown party picking off and stealing the contraband from inter-world smugglers.”

“He’s what now?”  Eris asks, keeping her tone carefully level.  How is this her first time hearing any of this?  “Is that why we’re playing cursed delivery service right now?  So we can be bait?”

“In all honesty, that thought hadn’t occurred to me.  But now that you mention it, there are worse plans.”

Another red light.  The last intersection before the turn into a series of side alleys for the bridge.

“We can come back to that after you explain everything you thought you already told me,” Eris says, “but for now, what was that about the lighthouse bl-”

A custom ringtone that Eris hasn’t heard in years plays over the van’s speakers and cuts off her question.  She doesn’t need to look at the caller ID displayed on the dashboard console to know who it is.  A part of her is surprised the caller still has her number, but then again, Eris still has hers.  And the two of them do still speak from time to time.

She considers letting it go to voicemail.  Or even hitting the button to hang up altogether.  She has more important things to focus on right now than a phone call from an ex who might have been trying to flirt with her a week ago.

An ex who wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency.  An ex who, if she really wanted to get back together, would more likely rope mutual friends into arranging a “chance meeting” where they would “just so happen” to have the opportunity and reason to do something romantic together like walk through a botanical garden, fix an engine together, or fight each other until they can barely stand.  An ex who would drop everything if Eris were the one to call.

Godammit.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Eris says to Road before tapping the green call icon on the dashboard screen.  “Yo, Gretchen, I’m driving right now with Road, so I’ve got you on speakerphone.  What’s up?”

With any luck, knowing Road’s on the line should keep Gretchen from trying to dredge up old relationship history that Eris is even less in the mood to deal with right now than normal.  And if it really is an emergency, it will be good to keep Road in the loop.

“Great,” Gretchen’s voice says through the van’s speakers, “that saves me the trouble of making a second call.  Do either of you know anything about non-euclidean, shifting, tesseract-esque architecture of the sort Lovecraftian horrorterrors like to make nests in?”

“I know that eldritch-warped spaces should never be entered without the proper training and precautions,” Road offers, “and even then they’re incredibly dangerous to go into alone and nigh-impossible to find your way out of without an anchor back to realspace.”

“Right.  Pretty much what I already guessed then.”

“Gretchen,” Eris says in exasperation that hasn’t yet turned into concern, “for the love of God, please tell me that’s not where you’re calling from.”

“Not yet it isn’t, but I am camped out inside the theater department of a Midwest liberal arts college staring at the door to a dressing room that was bigger on the inside when I opened it to chase the tentacle monster I’ve been hunting.”

“In that case,” Road says, “I would strongly advise closing the door, waiting an hour, and then checking to see if it’s gone back to normal by then.  The eldritch aren’t mere beasts to hunt.”

“Not happening.  I’ve already tagged this one so it can’t fully escape the world into voidspace.  It’s my quarry to claim, and while I really would love the assistance if you want to come jump into the proverbial eye of terror with me, I’m going after it either way.  And before you start lecturing me about acceptable targets, I’ve already verified that this one’s not sapient; it’s just a passing scavenger that stopped by to feed on the psychic torment of undergrads going through finals week.”

The traffic light turns green.

“Give us an address and we’ll be there as soon as we can,” Eris says.  “Don’t you dare go in there alone before we arrive.”  She just had to turn this into an ultimatum, didn’t she?

“Thanks E, I’ll text it to you.  Be seeing you.”

The call ends, and the ensuing text message arrives immediately enough that it was almost certainly typed up in advance.  Eris taps to display it on the screen and glances at Road.

“Do I still want to make this turn up ahead?”

“Do you really think she’ll really go in on her own if we take too long?”

“I hate to say it, but yes.  I’d know if she were bluffing and she’s not.  She’s leaving something out, but she’s serious about that.”

“In that case go three more blocks and then take twelve right turns in a row.  There’s a witch I know who owes me a favor.”

“Got it.  And thanks for helping with this.  I know it’s a detour from the current mission cleanup.”

“It’s practically on the way, and besides, there’s not a rush with the deliveries.  It’s not like they’re going anywhere if we leave them unattended for a short time.  Wrong kind of hauntings for that.”

“All the same, I appreciate it.  Things between me and Gretchen are weird, but I’d still rather not see her lose her mind trapped in some impossible labyrinth.”

“I wouldn’t want to see that happen to anyone.  Do you want to loop in Ashan and Lacuna?”

“Nah, someone’s got to watch the office in case something comes up.  Besides, it’s like two a.m. there right now.  Let them sleep.  Between you, me, and Gretchen, we should be fine.”

“Right you are,” Road says with a smile that shows more teeth than his usual.  “It’s been awhile since I’ve dealt with one of the eldritch.  This should be fun.”

Fun…  Yes, Eris supposes it will be once the hunt gets going.  No more effective way to forget her worries for a little while.  But first…

“Now about that exploding lighthouse…” Eris leaves the implied question hanging.

“I can give you and the others the full explanation when we get back.”

“You can give me the abridged version while I drive.”

“Fair enough.”

Eris could almost swear she hears them whisper something under their breath about it being refreshing to be called out.

*******

It has long been observed that artists, writers, performers, and other such creative types tend to have a statistically significant increased rate of contact with the extra-dimensional entities collectively known as “the eldritch.”  While the theory that creatives are somehow possessed of some special spiritual elevation or metaphysical sensitivity has been largely discredited, the actual cause of this phenomenon remains hotly debated.  The most popular theories are variations on the proposition that the act of creating art gives of psychic resonances that the eldritch can sustain themselves on similar to how deiform entities (more commonly known as “gods”) are sustained by - and by some indications potentially created by - sapient faith.  Others propose that the act of creation is a reshaping of our otherwise relatively stable baseline reality that either draws the eldritch in via a sense of familiarity to their own ever-shifting domain of existence or fascinates them with its alienness.

The most radical theories of why the eldritch seem to be drawn to art and artists is that they are not truly so different from us, and just find it neat.

Such is the potentially relevant trivia that runs through Eris’s mind as she picks her way down a dark hallway strewn with a web of tripwires and enchanted chalk drawings, trying not to catch any of the higher-strung wires on the spear strapped to her back.  Less helpful but equally persistent thoughts include stories of victims going mad from merely looking at the eldritch and irritation at Gretchen for setting all this up when she knew Eris and Road were coming to help.  And, Eris will begrudgingly admit, thoughts admiring the skill it takes to turn thirty feet of straight hallway into a virtual labyrinth to navigate.

“Okay, stop,” Gretchen instructs her.  Golden hair and golden eyes catch the glow coming from the one open door in the hallway while black leather and kevlar blend the rest of the monster huntress into the shadows.  Her spear, with its exaggerated bladed crossguard below the main blade, lies resting against the doorframe.  “Take two steps to the left, two steps back, another to the left, four forward, two to the right, and then you should be clear.”

“Was this all really necessary?” Eris asks as she catches up with Road and Gretchen in front of a door to a theater dressing room whose contents keep multiplying and folding in on themselves. 

“Maybe not, but I had the time waiting for you to get here,” Gretchen answers, “so I figured I may as well account for the possibility of this thing fleeing back outside once we find it in there.  These Lovecraftian tentacle monsters are slippery like that, this way we either catch it in there or we chase it back out here where it slithers headlong into a magic net.”  She flashes Eris a wickedly playful grin painted poison apple red.  “Besides, if you were to accidentally set one of these off it’d be fun to see how long it takes you to break out.”

“Lovecraftian is a slur,” Road points out without looking away from the threshold of the warped space, saving Eris from having to reply to that last part.

“Huh?”

“Old Howard Phillips was a racist xenophobe even by the standards of his time who thought air conditioning was unnatural and scary,” Eris clarifies.  “A guy like that was obviously going to interpret any contact with a genuinely alien consciousness in the worst possible faith, and whether it was coincidence or a failed attempt at breaking the Masquerade, he wound up having an outsized influence on the collective consciousness and how the eldritch have even been able to interact with this world over the past century.”

“I never did understand how the other hunters couldn’t see you were a giant nerd at heart,” Gretchen says.

“Not in a flirting mood right now, Gretchen.”

“Spoilsport.”  The word comes out as a joke rather than an accusation.

“Anyway,” Road says as they drop their duffel bag on the floor and begin rifling through it, “I think I’ve seen enough to get a handle on the situation.”  

“Do tell,” Gretchen says.

“At a glance this appears to be a fairly standard eldritch spatial warping, anchored enough to this world to be merely confusing instead of completely incomprehensible.  That said…” he pulls a scrimshaw carving of a deep-sea fish from the duffle bag and sticks his arm through the doorway, holds it there past the threshold for a few seconds until the bone starts glowing, and puts it back in the bag.  “Like I suspected, the space is psychically reactive, so we’ll need to be careful about mental feedback loops in there.  Luckily I have some countermeasures for that.  Just give me a few minutes to stabilize this portal so it doesn’t close behind us and we should be good to go.”

“Cool, while you do that…” Eris says to Road and then turns to Gretchen, “Gretchen, I need a word with you in private.”

“Not a lot of privacy in here, E, unless you want to go walk through the web again.”

Eris stalks over to where the person who coined that nickname for her and all it entails stands lurking just past the edge of the light spilling from the warped space beyond the door.  She comes to a stop close enough that the shorter woman has to crane her neck up to look her in the eye.  When she does, Eris can see that her pupils are dilated beyond even what this darkness should elicit.  Black circles that nearly reach the edge of their sockets with just the faintest rim of yellow iris and hardly any room for the white of sclera.

“We can whisper,” Eris hisses.  “And I am not in the mood for you to make a joke out of that.”

“What’s got you all worked up?” Gretchen whispers.  “A hunt with rare prey and working with Road?  I’d think you’d be enjoying this as much as I am.  Or has working with the celebrity hero gotten boring for you?”

“What are you leaving out?”  Eris prays that she’s wrong about already knowing the answer to her own question.  

“Perceptive as ever.  It always was one of your best qualities.”

“Stop dancing around the answer.”

“Tell me how you figured it out.”

“Do I look like I want to play this game?”  She used to love playing this game.

“You already know the answer.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“You want to hear me say literally anything else.  I want to hear you say it.”

A request with two meanings if there ever was one.

“Fine,” Eris growls.  “You called me.”

“Just that?”

“That was enough to suspect.”

“But there was more.  What are you leaving out?”  

That same wonderfully wicked smile that always accompanied every inside joke between them.

“If this was just about a hunt gone weird you would have called Road directly.  We all have their number, it’s literally posted on the wall at 121813.  And you certainly wouldn’t have turned it into a threat to go in alone.  You’re smarter than that.  You wanted me here, and Road’s an excuse at best and distraction at worst.”

“Go on.”

“You’ve always been good at setting up snares, but not even you could have rigged all this up in the time between the phone call and now.  You had these traps ready before you ever picked up the phone.  You prepared this for us as much as for your prey, but you made a point of helping us get on this side of them.”

“And why would I ever do a thing like that?”

“We show up and you’re lurking in the shadows like you’re setting up a dramatic reveal.  You love being dramatic, but that’s not your flavor.  You burst into rooms with flashy entrances and get all eyes on you.  You’re two thirds my size and take up twice as much space.  You’ve got a miniature bluetooth speaker hidden in your gear so you can play goddam theme music in a fight.  You don’t lurk for drama.  You only lurk when you’re hunting.  When you’re closing in on prey and waiting for it to get in position.  When you want to build up your own thrill of anticipation before you come down like lightning with all the flash and thunder that goes with it for your perfect moment.”

“But we’re on a hunt, aren’t we?  Why shouldn’t I be lurking outside the hole I’ve run my prey down into?”

“But the eldritch in there isn’t what you really want to catch.”

“My my, my.  E, are you calling yourself my prey?  I know you’re delicious, but -”

Eris reaches out and grips the flashlight clipped to Gretchen’s shoulder, twists it towards Gretchen’s face and turns it on.  There’s an unmistakable flash of eyeshine in the moment before those unnaturally dilated pupils contract into sharp vertical slits, leaving Gretchen more golden-eyed than ever.  A predator’s eyes.  A hunter’s eyes.

“Now who’s the dramatic one?” Gretchen purrs.

“You were practically showing them off when we got here.”

“They’re lovely aren’t they.  It’s amazing what autogenesis can do.  But what does it all mean?”

It’s the reason they broke up.

“I almost hit my tipping point on my last hunt,” Gretchen speaks up when Eris doesn’t.

The fifth fate of hunters.

“I changed, and it felt wonderful.”

To get so lost in the hunt, in the thrill of violence, that one becomes no different from the monsters they hunt.

“But then the rush faded, and it was horrifying.”

A recognition of identity that triggers a self-reinforcing feedback loop of autogenesis.

“That’s why I want you here tonight.”

Those who fight monsters and live are doomed to become monsters themselves.

“So you can help pull me back from the brink when I start to go over again.”

“Bullshit,” Eris says flatly.

“Excuse me?”

“You picked out a difficult and dramatic target for your last hunt that you knew had a reputation for making people lose their minds in the hopes that it would be a sure thing to seal you into the fifth fate, and then you called me up so I could witness you change and then tragically have to put you down the way you always romanticized and fantasized about.  Bonus points if I die too right after from injuries you inflicted.  Your perfect fucked up fairy tale ending.”

“E, that’s not the only way it has to go.”

“Oh, and me turning into a monster too so we can go on a mindless rampage together is so much more -”

“I’m done!” Road calls from the door.

Eris turns around to see them holding an intricately embossed knife in one hand and a smoking censer dangling from a chain in the other.  Behind them the doorframe is now surrounded by geometric sigils drawn in glowing chalk.

“Good.  So are we,” Eris says.

Road nods in misunderstood affirmation.  “Now then, then incense should ward off any eldritch influence to keep our minds stable and bodies intact, so we’ll need to stick together while we’re in there.”

“About that,” Eris says.  “Change of plans.  Gretchen is staying out here.”

“I absolutely am not!  This is my hunt!”  Gretchen shouts.  The sudden change in demeanor would be jarring if Eris hadn’t expected it.

“I’ve read up enough on these things and talked to enough wizards to know that getting out of weird space like that works best if you have someone on the outside as a lifeline or beacon to follow back.  Gretchen’s the one who set up all the traps out here, so best if she takes on that duty so she can manage them if the eldritch comes back out before we do.  Better to drive it back out and into her traps to finish it off here than to kill it in an extradimensional space that might well collapse with its death.”

“Oh, now who’s talking bullshit?”  Gretchen snarls.  Her teeth are sharper than they were three minutes ago.  “If anyone should stay behind it should be Road since they’re the one who knows how to keep the door open.  Just give us the incense to take with us and we’ll be fine.”  She shakes her head.  “But no.  You’re just trying to poach my prey.  Well, I’m the one who found out it was haunting this place!  I’m the one who tracked it down to begin with!  I’m the one who lured it into realspace!  I’m the one who tagged it so it can’t escape!  I’m the one who backed it into a corner!  I’m the one who kills it!  It’s mine!  My prey!  My hunt!  And you can’t take it!”

Eris rounds on her.  “Good God!  Would you listen to yourself right now?  You’re raving.  This isn’t you.  Not the Gretchen I know.  You’re on the brink and that’s the feedback loop talking.”

“And you know me so well, don’t you?  In spite of being too afraid of letting go of yourself to see what I see.”  

“I know that there’s more to you than just joy of the hunt, and if you go in there you’re going to fall over the edge and lose all of that.  And I am not going to help you commit an elaborate ego suicide.”

“It’s not-” Gretchen starts to say before getting interrupted by Road stepping between the two monster hunters.

“Eris, you’ve got a point about someone staying behind as a lifeline beacon,” Road says before taking Eris’s hand in hers to give her a crystal amulet on a silver chain, “but if it’s the hunter’s fifth fate you’re worried about then maybe you should both stay out here while I go in.”

“Me?”  Eris balks.  “I’m fine.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you are one hundred percent sure of that.  Tell me that if you go in you won’t wind up being the one falling over the edge when eldritch exposure starts eating away at your capacity for rational thought.”

Heat.  Rage.  Ecstasy.  The smell of smoke and steam.  A cloak of flames.  Hair alight like clouds at sunset.  A heavy, wet, crunching sound repeating over and over.

The contextless memory leaves Eris gasping.  She pushes it back down lest context arrive.

Road nods.  It’s the first time Eris has ever seen them look sad.  It’s unsettling.

“Gretchen’s liable to run in right after us anyway if we leave her out here unsupervised,”  Eris says.

“I would not!”  Gretchen protests.  “Not that you’re going to leave me out here.”

“Gretchen,” Road says, turning to her, “Eris is right.  You’re not well right now.  I’ve seen this sort of thing happen before firsthand, so I would know.”  He raises a hand to forestall another objection.  “I also know that, on some level, you know that too, or else you would have come up with a way to just get Eris here and not me.  You know how the arrangement I have with the 121813 crew goes; if I’m called in it’s not a hunt anymore and it’s out of the hands of whomever it was that made the call.  It’s out of your hands.”  Road steps back and gives one of  those warm, reassuring smiles of theirs.  “And maybe you even meant it earlier about wanting Eris to be here to pull you back from the brink.  Yeah, you two weren’t exactly being quiet by the end there.  But maybe you don’t have to be all the way to the brink for someone you care about to pull you back and help you.”

Maybe it’s the incense bringing her back down to her senses, or maybe it’s just Road being Road, but something in Gretchen relaxes.  Deflates.

“Maybe…” she whispers, eyes downcast.

“Now then!” Road says in a sudden shift from serious to chipper.  “You two obviously have a lot of baggage to unpack, so why don’t you take the opportunity to sort that out while I go sort out getting our squiggly visitor back to its home in the Void?  Alright?  Good.  I’m trusting you, and I’ll see you on the other side.”

And with that, Road turns on their heel and heads toward the door with a jaunty wave.  By the time they cross the threshold their jacket has finished folding and flowing outward to completely cover them in plated purple armor with green trim.  The incense smoke billows around them and trails behind, creating a pocket of stability in the chaotic space that was once a theater dressing room.  And then the bubble gets too far away from the door, the room inverts itself, and Road is gone save for a subtle tugging sensation coming from the amulet they left in Eris’s hand.

“So…” Gretchen grasps at the words to say next.  Her eyes remain downcast.

“So…” Eris prompts.  Her eyes remain trained on Gretchen.

“Is Road always…”

“Like that?  Pretty much.”

“And here I thought they were just doing a bit the couple of times I worked with them.”

“Nah, they’ve got that vibe going pretty much twentyfour-seven.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“For me or for them?”

“Both.”

“Eh, it’s endearing, and I’m not convinced they actually sleep.”

The silence of thoughts not yet formed into words descends.  Gretchen steps away from Eris to go lean on a section of wall that hasn’t been tripwired or graffitied.  Eris shifts her own position to keep herself between Gretchen and the door and pockets the lifeline amulet.  

Seconds pass.

Minutes.

Gretchen finally looks back up at Eris.

“I’m sorry,” Gretchen says.  “Like you said, I wasn’t really myself when I was going on like that.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“It’s just… You know what it’s like.  The rush, the thrill, the anticipation.  The drumbeat in the back of your head that seems too loud to be simply your own heart.  The electric tingle down your spine that spreads through your whole body.  The way smell and taste start blurring together and your other senses all start feeding each other so that the whole world seems more.  The craving.  The memory of blood’s viscosity and the way a drop’s trail down the back of your hand catches on all the little hairs and gathers in the pores and creases.  The constant knowledge of how good the climax of the hunt feels.  Has felt.  Will feel next time.”

“I do.  All the more reason for you not to go in there.”

“It’s like that all the time now.  Even basking in that moment right after a kill, it only ebbs away to a murmur.  It’s enough to make you think it might not be so bad if you never felt anything else.”

“Only ever feeling one thing?  Sounds like death to me, and I’d rather die as myself.”

Gretchen’s laugh is soft and bitter.  “You always say that.  Have you ever stopped to think that it might be becoming more yourself, not less?”

“I have, but I’ve seen what someone becoming more herself looks like, and this?  What you’re talking about?  This ain’t it.”

“How do you figure?”

“Becoming more yourself is about letting yourself grow, and while you might shed some masks that were never really part of who you were in the first place, everything that makes you you is still there in some form, for better or worse.  What you’re talking about isn’t taking off a mask, it’s hacking off your nose, ripping out your tongue, and mangling your ears.  It’s becoming a caricature of yourself.  Maybe if this was a not wanting to be human anymore thing I could understand, but that’s never been what you wanted.  It was always that single perfect moment stretched out to infinity that you’d always wax poetic about.”

“How do you do it then?”

“Do what?”

“I’ve seen you in action E, I know you love it just as much as I do.  Maybe even more.”

“I’m not the one trying to accelerate losing my mind here.”

“That’s my point!  I’ve seen you covered head to toe in blood with a look on your face I only wish I could have ever gotten you to make in bed, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.  That’s not even flirting, it’s objective fact.  So how are you not the one rushing headlong into trying to feel that way all the time?  Where do you find that strength to resist?”

Eris shrugs.  “It’s not that complicated really.  I wouldn’t even call it ‘strength’ per say. I have other things I care about and I know that there’s more to me than being the strong one who rips out hearts and crushes skulls with my bare hands.  I love the hunt - and the kill - sure, but I don’t let my life revolve around it.”

“I could make an argument to the contrary, but…”  Gretchen takes a deep breath, throws back her head, and lets out a long exhale in time with sliding her lean against the wall down into a seated position.  “Maybe you’re right.  Maybe I should try to take a break for a while.  Find myself a new hobby.”

Eris crouches down to get closer to eye level with her and grins.  “I’d suggest gardening, but you and I both know your track record there.”

Gretchen’s laugh is sharp and sweet.  “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“You almost let a cactus die of dehydration before I stepped in.”

“In my defense, we were living in a humid area at the time.  I figured that would be enough for it.”

“Not in that case.”

The silence of familiarity lost and found changed descends.  Gretchen fiddles with the area on her arm where sleeve meets glove.  Eris cracks her neck.

Seconds pass.

Minutes.

Gretchen’s eyes drink in Eris’s presence, only flickering their focus to the open doorway behind her for a moment.

“So, finally got yourself a new pair of boots,” Gretchen observes.

Eris glances down, catches herself, and snaps back to watching Gretchen.  “You should have seen the rest of the armor they came with.  It was an offworld import, a real sci-fi space marine type look just a step shy of full on power armor.”

“What, did you order it in the wrong size and just keep the boots?”

Eris shakes her head.  “You know the trope of jumping on a grenade to save your teammate?”

“Yeah?”

“Replace the grenade with a miniature exploding sun conjured by a wizard.  It was hovering though, so instead of throwing myself on top of it I just sort of grabbed it with both hands and squeezed.”  Eris mimics the motion.  “The boots were the only part of the armor that were still salvageable after.”

“That’s my E, walking off a supernova to the face.”

Light piercing through skin down to the marrow.  Heat beyond pain’s ability to register.  Flame inseparable from flesh.  A heavy, wet, crunching sound repeating over and over.  A soft bed.  The fog of painkillers.  A request for a mirror denied.

“Eh, that’s overselling it.  Remember the salamander den the Lor twins asked us to help clear out that one time?  Now that was some fire.”

“Yeah, in Yellowstone.  God, I can still smell the sulfur just thinking about it.  Was it you or Lornegna who had the dumbass idea to smash a hole in the wall to flood the cave?”

“That one was on Loreghaste for once, if you can believe it.  Not that they’ll ever admit to it.”

“Oh really?  I always took them for the reasonable twin.”

“You’d think that, but half the wild shit Lornegna pulls is something that Loreghaste said in passing earlier, knowing full well that they’ll take it and run with it.”

“Even plugging a geyser with that oversized hammer of theirs to turn themself into a human cannonball?”

“Okay, that one was one hundred percent Lornegna.”  Eris’s laugh is rough and mellow.  “Regular pair of menaces, those two.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

Eris gasps in mock indignation.  “Me?  A menace?”

“You got an amusement park shut down.”

“Miraclezone Fun Park had already closed its doors for four whole days by the time we got there, thank you very much.  You know, on account of all the mysterious deaths that got our attention in the first place.”

“Maybe, but derailing a roller coaster so that it crashes into the middle of an amphitheater certainly didn’t help their odds of reopening once the weird ape spider things that were eating the night shift employees were dealt with.”

“Says the woman who decided to draw the beasts out by plugging her phone into the sound system, turning on all the stage lights, and doing a solo dance number without realizing how many there were infesting the park.  You’re lucky my aim was good enough to take out half of them when I landed.”

“More like you’re lucky I was fast enough to dodge that mess.  I’ll hand it to you though, you made one helluva first impression climbing out of the wreckage, ripping off one of the coaster’s safety bars one-handed and using it as a club to lay into the rest of the… what even were those things anyway?”

“Some alchemist’s escaped mad science experiments.  It was in the Crossherd papers a few days later when the guy got bagged for a gross violation of the Masquerade after the cops showed up and found a bunch of dead eight-legged monkeys.”  Eris shakes her head in exasperation.  “I still can’t believe we didn’t get caught for that.”

“Fitzy’s always been good at covering for his bar’s patrons.  It’s half the point of 121813.”  Gretchen pauses, searching her memory.  “That night was your first time there, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.  You offered to buy me a drink and I was too busy trying to hide the fact that my arm was broken to turn you down.”

“Your arm was broken?”

“And a few ribs.  Did something to my ankle too, but by that point I already had a good grasp on how fast I heal and I was trying to look cool for the chick who was killing rabid chimeras with a spear in time with the bassline on metal music blasting from stadium speakers.”

“Speaking of impressive spearwork…”  Gretchen pauses just long enough for both of them to think of innuendos that are funnier left unspoken.  “Is that the new ice spear you mentioned the last time you were at the bar?”

Eris reaches back and traces two-fingers along the sigil-engraved haft sticking up over her shoulder.  “Sure is.  Intent-activated ice conjuration on contact capable of full encasement without long term damage after thawing out.  It is a bit finicky about which part of the spear causes the freezing, but that’s got its advantages once you get used to it.  Come to think of it, this thing would have been real handy back on the Miami job.”

“You mean the time some rich kid showed up at the bar begging for someone to do a live capture on his lost pet?  Oh yeah, that would have saved us so much time with that slippery little bastard.”

“Oh, be nice, it was adorable.”

“It was a blob of ooze capable of squeezing itself through a showerhead that had us running in circles around that resort all day like a slapstick routine.”

“But it made itself dog-shaped and licked the kid’s face when we got it back.”

“You are such a bleeding heart.”

“I wonder if I still have a video of that.  I bet Lacuna would love it.”

“Right, Lacuna…”  Gretchen trails off.  “How long have you two been together now?”

“We’re not a couple,” Eris says.  The sentence is practically a reflex by now with how often the mistake’s been made.

“Really?  Well crap, I owe Old Vic twenty dollars.”

“You made a bet with Old Vic?  That Lacuna and I were a couple?”

“Me and half the regulars.  Separate pool for how long until you bring her in to show off.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish right now.”

“I don’t even bring her up that much.”

“I was going by quality over quantity.  Seriously, have you heard yourself talk about her?  Adorably fragile little mess of a genius hacker witch that you protectively fret over who lets you indulge your inner nerd and play the experienced worldly butch while you teach her how to be a woman.”

“First off, I have never once in my life called Lacuna ‘adorable.’  Second, the witch thing didn’t work out for her and she hates being called a hacker.  And third, that whole description is infantilizing.  She is pretty smart though.”  In certain areas anyway, Eris bites her tongue from adding.  “She’s got a whole server farm set up and programmed to enchant stuff for her.  She’s the one who made the spear.”

Gretchen’s self-satisfied ‘You just proved my point’ look is as insufferably smug as ever.

“Look,” Eris says, “Lacuna’s like a sister to me.  Maybe in another life, if we’d met under different circumstances, then maybe, but I wouldn’t trade what we have, given the choice.”

The silence of sore subjects and inarticulate hope descends.  Gretchen pushes herself off the wall to sit a little closer to Eris and leaves one hand resting in the space between as a clear invitation.  Eris shifts her own position to meet Gretchen’s without touching.

Seconds pass.

Minutes.

“Old Vic says it’ll be behemoth season soon on his homeworld,” Gretchen says without meeting Eris’s gaze.  Looking more past her than at her.  “He invited me and some of the other regulars to come join him there when it does.”

“Sounds like a party,” Eris says, keeping her eyes locked on Gretchen’s hands.

“It really is, to hear him tell it.  A solid week of festivals before and after the culling hunts.  Dancing, feasting, games, rituals, all that good stuff.  Not many offworlders get invited, but we wouldn’t be the only ones, so it’s not like we’d be intruding either.”  

“I hope you get to enjoy it.”

Gretchen raises her hand until her fingers brush Eris’s.  Her fingers curl slightly.  Eris’s curl into them.

“Obviously, you’re invited too, E.  It’ll be the first words out of Old Vic’s mouth the next time you show up.  I know you’re busy these days with your new crew, but you really should think about joining us.  It’s a once in a lifetime hunt for anyone without a triple-digit lifespan.”

“Whatever happened to taking a break from it all?”

The curled fingers become clasped hands.

“That’s the best part.  Imagine, one final hunt grander than anything we’ve seen before or ever will see again where we’ll bring down walking mountains and flying rivers of scales.  One last hurrah to get everything out of our system, and afterwards once everyone else goes home the two of us could stay for a while and take a real vacation for a hard reset.  Spend a month or two in some tranquil hidden elf village, get in touch with nature, calm down from the hunt.”

“Make a fresh start.”

One of them rises to her feet.  The other follows.  It is unclear who does which.

“Reconnect.”  The word is said in unison.

Gretchen places her free hand on Eris’s shoulder and rests her head on Eris’s chest.  Eris places her free hand on Gretchen’s wrist and rests her head on Gretchen’s.  A foot wraps around an ankle.

“If I could give it up,”  Gretchen whispers, “do you think things could work out between us again?”

The silence of past actions considered.

“Think about it, E.  Has anyone else ever been as good with you?  No one else has for me.  And it was just that one thing between us.”

The silence of chance weighed against choice.

“What if, for each other, we really could get out, E?  Have one last hunt and mean it.  And if it does call us back again, then if we’re both trying to avoid letting it consume us and watching out for each other, who knows how long we might last?  Maybe we could even keep each other alive long enough to get tired and settle down.”

The silence of exceptional circumstances accounted for.

“E… What if neither of us had to die young?  What if we got to grow old together?”

The silence of a conclusion reached.

Eris pulls Gretchen further into their embrace.  They both lift their heads, faces nearly touching.  Brown eyes stare into gold.

“Oh Gretchen, you always knew how to say what I needed to hear.”

“E-”

The embrace becomes crushing.  Gretchen’s pained gasp at the vice grip on her hands and wrists is made shallow for want of air.

“Never were good at lying though,” Eris laments.  “You know that stun gun you still keep strapped to the underside of your wrist isn’t enough to take me down, right?  Or was it going to be the retractable blade in the toe of your boot going for my Achilles tendon?  Come to think of it, that lipstick’s the poison apple red I bought for your birthday that one year, isn’t it? ”

Gretchen’s laugh is hard and sour.  “Could’ve been all three at once.”

“Still wouldn’t have worked.”

“Can you blame me for trying?”

“No, and that’s the problem.”

“One more thing to say in my defense?”

“It won’t make a difference.  You’re not getting through that door.”

That same old deliciously wicked grin.  For the first time, Eris gets the feeling she’s not on the inside of the joke.

Gretchen intones a quick chant with no literal translation and looks up.

By reflex, Eris looks up into the uniform shadows of the ceiling.

The sole set of graffitied warding sigils that Gretchen neglected to point out earlier light up the ceiling’s shadows.

By reflex, Eris dodges to the side of the blade of light that comes piercing down.

Gretchen slips her hands free of her gloves and out of Eris’s grip.

By reflex, Eris lunges to grab her again.

Gretchen reaches over Eris’s shoulder and grasps the haft of the enchanted spear with intent.  Ice spreads from the points of contact where the spear is strapped to Eris’s back.  The sudden conjured weight causes Eris to stumble and then - when the ice encases her hips and shoulders - to fall.

It is only one third of a second that Eris is on the ground.  By two thirds of a second Eris has shattered the ice, rolled to her feet, and unslung her spear in a single motion.

It only takes Gretchen one half of a second to reach the open door to the eldritch-warped space and collect her own cross spear that she left leaning next to it.  She wastes a quarter of a second turning around to look back.

“I’m sorry E, but I’m not as strong as you are.”

Having finally turned around to see the door, Eris realizes that sometime while she’d been watching Gretchen the space on the other side had grown more chaotic until it gave up all pretense of resembling a room, now looking like nothing so much as the white noise of television static.  She almost reaches Gretchen in time to stop her from stepping through.  The tip of the spear brushes against the back of Gretchen’s knee mid-stride, freezing it and dropping her to what passes for the ground on the other side.  And then the feet of distance between the monster hunters becomes miles and Gretchen’s receding black and gold form is swallowed by the static.

Eri swears, pulls the lifeline amulet that Road gave her out of her pocket, and drops it on the floor.  She figures that as long as it stays out here in realspace, then Road can always get out and come back with Ashan and Lacuna to pull her and Gretchen out later.

She wastes no further time on hesitation before running into the static after Gretchen.

*******

Eris is hunting.

A chill wind howls across a moonlit prairie.  The rush, the thrill, the anticipation, are almost too much to bear as she chases down a pack of lupine shadows.  One falls to a spear.  Another is caught by its tail and dragged to the ground.  A third turns and raises itself on two legs to face its hunter.  Its claws meet with only open air.  Her claws meet with its heart.

There is a disappointing lack of blood.  They are naught but shadows afterall.

The pack’s lone survivor sprints for the treeline, wild with fear, only to find a chainlink fence between itself and safety.  She is still half human, and her eyes are fully so when she looks back at her hunter.

There’s a name Eris should remember and call out at this part.  She doesn’t, but what does it matter?  It’s just a beast.

What was she hunting again?  It doesn’t matter.  It’s all just prey in the end.

High above, tiny flames swirl and writhe. Its watchful eyes are blinded.

The chainlink fence rattles and shrieks when she tears it down and stalks between the support struts of the rollercoaster.  The drumbeat in the back of her head seems too loud to simply be her own heart.  Perhaps it is the music pounding from that amphitheater over there.  Eight-legged shadows leap from support strut to support strut and skitter along the tracks above.  What an annoyance, that noise is luring her prey away from her.  

A freezing from the spear, a few good kicks, and a mighty heave are all it takes to knock out the nearest pylon and set the entire rollercoaster around her crashing down.  The music of the collapsing metal all around her is enough to drown out the metal of the music from the amphitheater, but the drumbeat in her skull is louder still.

She steps on one of the wretched chimerical shadows trying to free itself from the wreckage as she stalks toward the alleyway behind the amphitheater.

Oh, yes, that’s right.  She’s hunting Gretchen.  The snake, the spider, her lioness.

Amidst the wreckage, tendrils of flame coil around a thorn that will not burn.  Its teeth cannot piece this.

The alleyway is awash with the scent of buzzard meat, skunk perfume, and pine scented car air freshener emanating from the dumpster at the far end.  An electric tingle runs down her spine and spreads through her whole body as she walks past the garbage truck that has taken her to so many trailheads with signs of new quarry within the dream-born city.  The shadow that erupts from the refuse is all horns, claws, spines, and teeth.  It is long enough to wrap itself around her, heavy enough to pull her down to the ground when it does, and vicious enough to keep wrestling with her even after she snaps off its saber fangs.

She recalls a dim memory that this thing once hurt her badly enough that she called for help to return to her home lair afterward.  The one who answered should never have had to see her like that.  She will make this shadow pay for that.

By the time she realizes the shadow is dead and gone, the pavement is shattered, the dumpster is rent in twain, and the engine of the garbage truck she was once responsible for is totalled.  There is no proper satiation to hunting shadows.  All chase and fight, but no release.  She retrieves her spear and vaults over the wall at the end of the alleyway.  Perhaps when she finds her true prey at the end of this she will bring satisfaction.

No, that’s not right, she’s supposed to be searching for Gretchen, not hunting her.

Behind her, the flame lashes out at a person-shaped hole.   Its claws have fought against the other’s for so long now.

Moonlight reflects off the lake and into the whispering of the trees that brushes against her cheek to welcome her home with the scent of blood in her mouth.  Smell and taste blur together as her senses begin feeding into one another until the whole world seems more.  Was she really even alive before this?

Her oldest dance partner rises from the lake to greet her on the shore.  The one who tried to hunt her and in failing to do so taught her the joy of being the predator rather than prey.  Their dance begins again.  As it always has.  As it ever will.  Her dance partner is a gaunt and stretched out figure of tongues and teeth that still resembles a man.  Her dance partner is a beast of scale and shell with jaws that bite and claws that catch.  Her dance partner is a cacophonous evolution of forms between as the two of them drive one another to learn and adapt with each dance.

Her dance partner is a mere shadow, frozen in a block of ice and thrown into the back of her van to be stowed away and forgotten.  She has long since grown beyond it.  She slams the rear doors of the van shut.

And yet still the hunt always cycles anew.  She is always hunting.

Beneath the water, the ancient flame roils against a timeless knight.  Its arms will crush the misbegotten parasite and then the thing beneath.

The air in the candlelit cavern smothers like a damp blanket.  A drop of blood trails down the back of her hand, catches on the tiny hairs, leaves bits of itself gathered in the pores and creases, and falls from her fingertip into the crystal clear pool the same as any other drop from the cavern’s stalactites.  It seems the shadow of her old dance partner left her with a final parting gift.

She approaches the cavern’s shrine and the wounded shadow praying at its moldy offering plate skitters away.  She weighs whether it is worth pursuing but is distracted by a shambling pile of bones.  The bones snap and crunch so pleasingly and the soft shadow beneath rips apart so delightfully.  But when the bones are ground to dust and the shadow they failed to protect are gone she is still hungry.

The wounded shadow taps a pattern on the ground.  Its eight eyes are not human at all but they hold fear all the same.

There’s a kindness Eris should offer at this part.  She doesn’t, but what does it matter?  It’s just a beast.

Still not satisfied, she turns her attention to the shrine and the small, forgotten god it venerates.  

Blood and hearts and bones and stone and ichor and mold.  What would a god taste like?

In the reflection on the surface  the upturned offering dish, a thousand tiny flames flare to a thousand stars.   Its song echoes in triumph over the foolish nothing that thought to hurt it.

The air in the desert tries and fails to sap the moisture from her body.  Neither the heat of day nor the chill of night can touch her through the craving.

Feeling like the only person in the world, she lingers in a space only ever meant to be passed through until she hears the howl of an almost-human voice that almost sounds like a song.  Feeling the weight of her spear fall from her hand, she steps out beyond the edge of the parking lot pavement to the edge of the edge of the furthest lamplight, that twilight border between known and unknown.  Feeling no need to announce her presence, she locks eyes in the dark with a shadow and utters a growl that almost sounds like words as she circles her prey and blurs the line between beast and self.  

There are only claws and teeth for the thing whose face is almost human.  A stinger strikes through the air with a whipcord whistling but is a step too slow.  An inhuman growl from a once-human throat accompanies the tearing sound of a sting ripped free from its tail and plunged into its owner’s neck.  Deed done, she retrieves her spear and walks back to the truck whose cargo has been her excuse to travel the land’s liminal spaces for prey like this.

She opens the door to the sleeper cab and finds herself face to face with a squawking peacock.  

The avian incongruity leaves Eris shocked enough for the bird to shuffle out past her and take to the wing.  She blinks.  Waking up to find a peacock in her cab wasn’t even the same year as hunting the manticore.  That was in Vermont and this was in Arizona.  Why are those two memories mixed together?

Wait.  Memories?

Cautiously, she climbs into the cab.  Something about it feels too small, but otherwise all is as it should be.  Neatly made bed in the back, movie poster from her old bedroom on the ceiling, air plant hanging from the rearview mirror…  The mirror!  Her reflection!  Her eyes!  She turns and flees into the dark tunnel in the back of the cab until she can no longer feel that awful piece of glass staring at her.

No.  This isn’t right.  She’s not…

Somewhere in the long darkness, a core of flame is trapped and pinned.   Its heart withers in fear and thrashes until the instinct to survive leaves nothing but…

Rage.  

There has ever been constant knowledge of how good the climax of the hunt feels.  Has felt.  Will feel next time.  And few things have had are having will have a death so sweet as the pile of garbage before her that calls itself a man.  It is not even fit to be prey, but the righteousness of ending it will more than make up for that.  It has captured, enslaved, and sold the innocent.  It has hurt one of her own.  It has arrogantly tried to summon the sun itself.

She swallows that sun.  Lets it burn away that which is not needed and bring light to what remains.  Its fire erupts from her scalp to become her hair and tumble down past her shoulders.  Its core melts down the flimsy scraps of armor and becomes her carapace.  Its hunger welds with hers and becomes yet more fuel for the hunt.

Her charred lips pull back nearly to her ears in what is both a snarl and a grin and in any case is all teeth.

The flash of her brilliant metamorphosis alone was nearly enough to dispose of the garbage, but not quite.  What is left of it continues to cough and twitch on the steaming ground.  She walks over to it and raises a foot in anticipation of a heavy, wet, crunching sound repeating over and over.

No!

This is not her!

This has never been her!

This can never be her!

Upon her shoulder, a gentle hand removes the thorn.   The flames dwindle to embers and scatter.

Eris is not hunting.

Eris is searching.

Eris is herself.

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

Out of the corner of her eye, Eris catches sight of a tiny flickering flame amidst the endless static that surrounds her.  It darts out of view and she turns her head to follow it.  Rather than finding the flame in the middle of the white noise once more, she finds herself in the middle of a living room she hasn’t seen in nearly a decade.  It’s been even longer since she last saw the mottled green-brown shag carpet sticking up around her boots.

“But why do I have to only speak English at school?”

Eris turns around to find a family of shadows standing in the soft morning light that shines in through the bay windows.  Outside, a schoolbus waits on the suburban street for other small shadows to join the ones already piled inside and blurred together.  But these shadows in the room with her now are far more interesting.  A mother, a father, and a child with a backpack.  Even just as silhouettes she knows them.

Her mama.

Her papa.

Her.

“Because,” the shadow of her papa answers the shadow of her childhood, “that’s all any of the other kids speak and it’s important for you to fit in.”

“But I already don’t fit in!” Eris’s shadow whines.  A petulant response, but a true one.  She remembers this conversation - or at least the impression of it - from her second week of first grade.  Even by then she was acutely aware that none of her classmates looked like her.

“If you really wanted me to fit in, you would have given me a normal name,” she and her shadow grumble in unison.  Her shadow’s parents don’t seem to hear that part.

“All the more important for you to make an effort,” the shadow of her mama admonishes.  “Just because you’re perfect as you are, that doesn’t mean everyone else is ready for it.  So until that’s different, blending in is safer.  You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“But then why do you make me practice all those other languages that we speak at home?”

“They’ll be useful when you’re an adult and trying to get into college and find a job,” her shadow’s papa hastily answers.  “Now hurry before you miss the bus.”

Eris’s shadow ducks her mama’s kiss on the forehead and turns away from her papa’s hug.  Her shadow only pauses for a moment, just past the door’s threshold when she hears a pair of “I love you’s,” in two different languages.  She smiles for a moment at the tears that don’t quite form and didn’t manage to back then either.

Then she remembers where she is and what Road said about psychically reactive spaces.  Eris has never been good at keeping psychic entities out of her mind, but she’s consistently found herself to be very good at telling and resisting when they’re trying to change or insert anything.  Save for that one time with whatever Lacuna did, but she tells herself that’s because she was intentionally letting her most trusted friend poke around in there for the sake of healing.  As for the looking, she tells herself that she has nothing to hide or that she’s afraid of being thrown in her face and used against her.

She follows her shadow out the door.

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

Her shadow is taller now, taller even than the shadow of the boy she just knocked down.  She’s in the eighth grade and she’s just gotten in her first fight in the middle of the school cafeteria.  Not that it was much of one.  One punch and the boy was down on the floor rolling and clutching his nose.  

Eris made a point of forgetting the boy’s name a long time ago (it was Justin) but everything else is burned into her memory.  After a year of taking rumors and accusations in silence this last bit of harassment finally hit the tipping point.  And damn, had it felt good to finally let it out.  She can’t see the creeping wild grin on her shadow’s lack of a face, but she can feel the temptation to mirror it.  Now’s the part where her shadow’s nonexistent eyes should be flickering to the fleck of blood on her knuckles.  There’ll be an intrusive thought to lick it, just to see what it tastes like.  Not that she will, but it suddenly occurs to Eris to wonder if what she is now was always in her, even back then.  

Was she always a monster in waiting?  She dismisses that intrusive thought for what it is and turns around and walks for the door as the shocked silence permeating the cafeteria erupts into chaos.  She turns around before she has to see the horrified look on the shadow of her best friend at the time.  Dylan.  

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

Her shadow’s in third grade and Dylan’s shadow is teaching her how to talk with her hands.  It’s after school and they’re sitting at his parents’ kitchen table, homework already done.  When his family moved in down the street last summer their parents got together and started setting them up with playdates in hopes that the two misfits would at least have one friend apiece going into the new school year.  

Eris smiles and signs the alphabet along with them.  Her shadow mastered it months ago, much to everyone’s surprise, but at this point it’s a game for the two of them to see who can get through forwards and backwards the fastest before they move on to anything else.  Eris is only halfway through the reversal when the shadows finish their game.  She’s gotten rusty these days with only video calling Dylan two or three times a year to catch up and get the latest news on how her folks are doing.

Eris’s breath catches when she notices Dylan’s shadow addressing her - no, her shadow - with a simple thumb over palm with fingertips curled.  He’s got a more specific name sign for her these days and she’d forgotten that it used to just be an initialization.

When the shadow of Dylan’s mom walks in to get the cookies out of the oven, Eris remembers where she is, stands up, and heads for the nearest door.

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

“Eris.”

“That’s not my… Present.”

Her shadow is in second grade and she has just given up.  If the teacher can’t even pronounce the shortened nickname she came up with correctly, then what’s the point of fighting it anymore?  May as well just go along with whatever people decide to call her than constantly struggle over something that doesn’t really matter.  She knows who she is regardless.

Eris opens the door and leaves the classroom.  She may not have anything to hide, but that doesn’t mean she has to stick around and give whatever’s manifesting all this a guided tour of her childhood either.

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

“Is she really even a girl?”

Her shadow is in seventh grade and it’s unseasonably hot outside.  She’s sitting on a bleacher bench trying not to cry while the shadow mother of the girl who’s not accepting her apologies has it out with her mama’s shadow.  

It was an accident, really.  A car drove by and the glare got in her eyes, throwing off her aim.

“What girl can even throw a softball hard enough to knock out a tooth?”

It was an accident, so why isn’t saying sorry enough?

“Just look at her!  What girl her age is that tall or has shoulders like that?”

It was an accident, but the shadow is talking too fast for anyone else to get a word in.

“Or maybe she’s on steroids?  You should get your daughter tested!”

Eris tunes out the rest of the conversation while she slips on a pair of fingerless black gloves.  Just because she’s made her peace, that doesn’t mean she has any interest in sitting around watching this trainwreck all over again.  She traces the silver-stitched runes on the gloves with one finger.  Back of the hand then the palm.  Left hand then the right.  There’s no door to exit through on the softball practice field, so she’ll just have to make her own.  

Eris claps her hands together and twin jolts run through her palms and up her arms to meet at the base of her neck.  She throws her head back involuntarily at the shock and bares her teeth in a grimace that lacks any of the usual excited edge from using these.  The initial sensation fades as she crouches down low to the ground but her hands are tingling now and will be until she takes off the gloves.

One punch is all it takes for the ground beneath to crack and shatter into the white noise void for her to fall into.

Å̶̹̱̈́́Ȓ̷̦͚̳̱̗͐̒̍̈͠T̵̛͎͓̲̠͎̭̉̅͒̅͑?̶̜̰̮̺̖̕

Her shadow is in her bedroom with the door locked.  She’s in her sophomore year of high school and staying up far too late on a school night in front of a mirror with a makeup kit she bought at the drugstore.  She meant to do this earlier, but her AP Calc homework took longer than expected.

Eris lands in the room, takes a look at the decorations, and shudders at that phase of her life.  All that work to be someone else for the sake of burying a reputation that never actually went away, just hid in the whispers behind her back.  She can still remember how alien her own body felt, soft from making a point of never exercising anymore after being banned from school sports, yet still too big to be fashionable.  Who was she ever fooling besides herself?

Her shadow hisses in frustration as she tries to figure out how to bridge the gap between how her mama taught her to do makeup and the styles in the magazine one of her friends that weren’t her friends gave her.  None of the models in the magazine look anything like her.

The room has a door, but punching a hole in the wall to step through into the static is more in line with Eris’s mood.

Å̶̹̱̈́́Ȓ̷̦͚̳̱̗͐̒̍̈͠T̵̛͎͓̲̠͎̭̉̅͒̅͑?̶̜̰̮̺̖̕

Her shadow is in sixth grade and her teammates are all hugging her and cheering.  They just won their game.  For once she’s the star instead of the outcast.

Eris punches another hole in the illusion.

Å̶̹̱̈́́Ȓ̷̦͚̳̱̗͐̒̍̈͠T̵̛͎͓̲̠͎̭̉̅͒̅͑?̶̜̰̮̺̖̕

“From whence comes the starlight in the Dark Forest?”

Was that Road’s voice?  This time the static doesn’t resolve into another shadow of a memory.

“Yo, Road!”  Eris shouts into the void.  “Can you hear me?  Gretchen’s lost in here somewhere.  Have you seen her?”

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

“Not art.  Pigments.  Raw materials.  Kindling for the spark.”

“Road, who are you talking to?  I can hear you, but I can’t see you!”

“I’m glad to see you’ve calmed down now.  You gave me a scare when you ran off like that after I got that tag off of you.”

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

“I understand you need that, yes, and I’m sorry I had to be rough with you earlier, but you can’t go forcing what you need out of mortals like that.  It’s not good for them.”

Ā̶̜̬̼̄̚̚r̵͉͓͗͒̉͝t̶̖̞́̍̆!̷̲̦̱̩̆̐͌͗

“I’d help you with that myself if I could, but I can’t.”

Ā̶̜̬̼̄̚̚r̵͉͓͗͒̉͝t̶̖̞́̍̆!̷̲̦̱̩̆̐͌͗

“I’ll see if I can get her permission.  These things work a lot better when the mortal agrees to it, you know.  They can even help and cooperate.”

Eris scans the white noise all around her, but still finds nothing, save for a tiny flame that quickly gets lost again.  Or was that just her brain trying to find an image in the noise where there is none?

“Road, what are you getting at here?  What do you need me to do?”

“Hey there Eris, sorry to put you on hold.  I’m with the eldritch right now and I can see you and Gretchen, but I can’t get to you.”

“Is Gretchen alright?”

“Physically, yes, but mentally she’s not handling this place nearly as well as you are.  Nothing irrecoverable yet, but it’s… not good.”

“Where is she?  If you can see us both, maybe you can help me reach her.”

“The concept of ‘where’ is subjective at best right now.  Our best bet is going to be helping the eldritch get what it wants - maybe needs, communication is tricky - in exchange for it leading all of us out of here.”

“And if we don’t cooperate?”

“You and I will probably be fine, but it’s not too happy with Gretchen right now.  There’s a good chance it’ll leave her in here when this space collapses upon its departure.”

“Of course it isn’t happy with her,” Eris mutters under her breath.  “Fine.  So what does it want?  It sounded like you were saying something about art earlier.  Is it going to conjure up a paintbrush and easel for me, or am I about to get sent on another trip down memory lane?”

“More likely the latter, unless you’re a painter or musician on top of everything else.”

 “Nah, I was always more of a STEM girl before I dropped out, I’m afraid.”

“That’s something.  Gardening can be an art.”

Gardening?  Oh, right.  “Not what I meant, but go on, let’s get the brain probing over with.”

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

“Yes, art.  But she’s going to choose what to show you, and you need to respect that she’s trusting you not to invade her privacy or touch anything.”

T̸̤͛r̶̭̲̥̠̫̼̒̐̌̀͆͂u̷̮̿̋̈́̆̈ś̷̡̬̝̠̮͙͊̿̓͘͘ẗ̷̘̙̲͋.̸̤͕̯̹̫̪̏̑̆͠

“Good.  Now, Eris, just focus on what art is to you.  What is the art in your life?  What have you created?  What have you experienced?  What have you shared?  Everyone has something.  Just let your mind find it and then let it flow.”

Eris nods.  Focus on art.  That shouldn’t be too hard.  She’s no artist, but she’s seen plenty.

She closes her eyes…

She is locked in a dance of death on the lakeshore with the hateful spirit of a thing that won’t stay dead.  She is using a tire iron to spraypaint the lifeblood of a rabid fae crossroads hound into a mural of autumn leaves on the side of a truckstop rest station.  She is standing on top of a moving rollercoaster and doing the on-the-fly math to calculate the optimal location and angle to hurl a broken flagpole in order to launch the ride, herself, and the dozen bloodthirsty ape spiders on the cars behind us into the amphitheater next door.  She is admiring her handiwork in the aftermath of a percussive demon exorcism that looks so very much like a tornado just tore through the gas station.  She is at the bar, arm wrestling two other monster hunters at once and winning.  She is at Doc’s clinic one of the few times she’s ever been hurt badly enough to need it and is thinking about how much the X-rays of her shattered arm look like a river delta.  She is holding the sun between her hands and feeling like God.

Ā̶̜̬̼̄̚̚r̵͉͓͗͒̉͝t̶̖̞́̍̆!̷̲̦̱̩̆̐͌͗

“Yes.  Destruction, too, is an art.”

She is destruction.  She a hunter.  She is a beast.

She is gasping and trying  to open her eyes.  She is finding them already wide and staring.  She is afraid to look down at her hands.

She is something other than that.  She is something more than that.  She is something greater than that.

She is protection.  She is an avenger.  She is a shield.

She is still just violence.  She is a danger.  She is a threat.

She is unwanted.  She is an outsider.  She is a disowned child.

She is scared.  She is hypocritical.  She is…

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

“E.”

She has never been only one thing.  She is what the world shaped her into.  She is what she chose for herself.

She is walking back home practicing the name sign Dylan came up with for her.  She is in the library reading a book on Greek gods and reclaiming a teacher’s laziness.  She is driving back and forth across the country, trying out a new name with the same initial at every stop.

She is in her parents’ kitchen, loving the rhythm of the name they gave her every time they ask her to pass the dishes or how her day went and the way that rhythm changes when the language shifts.  She is teaching that name to Lacuna.  She is sheepishly asking her best friend not to use that name afterall, but holding back tears over the fact that her friend took the time to master the pronunciation.

Ā̸̧̙̔r̷̭̤̤̊̀̽t̶̳͉̓?̵̼͙̻̋̾͜

She is planting seeds in the huge backyard garden with her papa.  She is hanging a tillandsia air plant in the sleeper cab of her truck.  She is watering the tiny balcony garden of her apartment.

She is working with her mama in her garage to repair the engine on the family car.  She is performing emergency roadside maintenance on her truck near a corn field.  She is renovating a barely-drivable van older than she is into something as new as the stage of life she just entered is.

She is watching a movie in the theater with her parents, eyes wide and hands full of popcorn.  She is crying in a motel a month after leaving home because that movie just came on the television when she was flipping channels.  She is lounging on the couch with Lacuna for movie night, excitedly explaining everything about that movie and the underappreciated nuances of the genre.

Ā̶̜̬̼̄̚̚r̵͉͓͗͒̉͝t̶̖̞́̍̆!̷̲̦̱̩̆̐͌͗

She is listening to her favorite song on the radio while driving down the highway.  She is singing her favorite song on karaoke night at 121813.  She is laughing as Gretchen unpacks a record player and puts on her favorite song for the two of them to unpack boxes to in their new apartment.

She is learning the four different languages her parents learned from their parents, still unaware that they aren’t all one.  She is learning ASL alongside Dylan, growing up together with something that feels all their own.  She is learning German from Gretchen, teaching her a few things in exchange and talking about how they’ll travel the world together someday.

She is learning to tie knots at summer camp and practicing over and over again with her eyes set on a merit badge.  She is tying a makeshift harness onto  a cool statue she found next to a dumpster to the side of her garbage truck so she can take it back home to her apartment.  She is in the bedroom with Gretchen, undressed and discussing the hypothetical logistics of trying to tie knots in industrial steel cable since she keeps accidentally breaking the ropes.

A̴̡͓͙̺͙͛̔ͅR̷̺̠̲̞͌͐̿̎̏͋T̷͇̣̹͖̐͛͘!̸̜͖̲̂͜

Eris is in a dark place that she does not recognize from any memory of her own.  The only light is a faint starshine spearing down through gaps in the canopy to create ghostly counterparts to the surrounding tree trunks.  Just at the edge of her hearing she can catch the sound of something lurking in the shadows.  For half a heartbeat, she spots a flash of gold.

Eris grins and shows what she knows is too many teeth for most people’s comfort.  Looks like that last set of memories got the desired reaction from the eldritch.

“Still hungry for more, huh?!” she shouts.  “Fine.  One last performance for the road!”

The nearest shaft of starlight becomes Eris’s spotlight as she takes the stage and steps into a ready stance with her spear.  She taps her foot in time with a remembered opening bassline from the track Gretchen always kicked off their exercises with.  She gets the rhythm down until she can almost hear it, and then starts the show.

Eris has heard of spears being called the oldest weapon.  She’s always felt it to be a dubious claim at best, when there are plenty of heavy and sharp rocks just lying around, but it’s true enough that the basic concept of “sharp pointy bit on the end of a long stick” is old indeed; old enough that just about everywhere you care to go has some variation on it.  She starts with the forms out of the illustrated Renaissance manuals that got Gretchen into the art to begin with.  She moves through the pike and lance devices, even though her own spear is too short for them.  She shifts to the staff swings, then the halberd techniques, then the peasant stick.  She works her way through the memorized Germanic style manual and moves on to the Italian.

In the dark, between the trees, a lurking presence closes in.  Eris keeps her view straight ahead.  The flashes of gold in her peripherals are enough to confirm she has her audience’s attention.

Eris skips across the globe to Filipino kali.  Stabbing their way around the world, Gretchen always liked to call the workout.  The point was never to master any given style.  Staves, pikes, lances, poleaxes, sibat, halberds, naginata, guandao, bō; it didn’t matter if the device, form, or kata was made with the types of spear the two of them happened to be practicing with in mind.  Martial arts were made for fighting people, and all that technique disappears when you’re fighting beasts.  It was about the novelty of finding new ways to move your body and learning all the ways the weapon can feel in your hands as an extension of yourself.  It was about acknowledging the human universality of finding interesting ways to swing a stick.  It was about compiling a wishlist of places to travel to one day.  

It was about an art the two of them shared.

“I know you recognize this,” Eris whispers. “Come join me.”

Eris traces her performance over Asia.  Through the Indian subcontinent and into Africa.  She crossed the ocean into the Americas.  She ventures into the Pacific, lands in Australia for a single stance, then returns to Europe where she started.  All along the way she feels the buildup of thrill for what comes after this opening act.  For what comes from having kept her eyes locked forward and back unprotected.

In the moment Eris stops moving, Gretchen comes down like lightning with all the flash and thunder that comes with it.  Eris steps forward and turns around, denying the lightning strike its perfect moment, its perfect kill.  

Gretchen is crouched low, modified boar spear impaling the ground instead of Eris.  She rips the weapon from the earth and sparks arc between the spear’s tip and bladed crossguard.  Her shadow cast by starlight and sparks is too large; it coils like a serpent and handles its weapon with too many arms.  Her face is furred, her neck is scaled, and her arms are chitinous.  She hisses and her jaw unhinges to expose her fangs.  She blinks, and she is simply Gretchen.  She blinks, and she is a beast.  She blinks, and she is something caught between.

Eris could swear that the trees and starlight are humming a reprise of the music in her head.

Gretchen lunges forward and Eris sidesteps.  She skitters sideways, as close to being on all fours as she can get while still holding her spear.  She strikes again and Eris parries.

Strike, retreat, skitter, strike, repeat.  Thus go the steps of the dance’s first movement.

A strike is parried.  A hand grabs a neck.  A body is thrown.

“Is this the best a beast can do?”  Eris calls.  “You’ll have to do better than that if you want your kill!”

Gretchen grips her spear with both hands now.  Circles more thoughtfully.  Thrusts with the full length of her weapon to maintain the safety of arm’s reach while she stays outside the light.

Circle, thrust, parry.  The dance’s next movement is a slow one, defined by distance and separation.

A thrust is dodged.  A boot drives a haft to the ground.  An icy speartip peels a scale off a neck.

“I know that’s not all you’ve got!” Eris shouts.  “You taught me better than that!”

Gretchen adjusts her grip closer.  Stands more upright.  Steps inward and swings her spear, catching Eris’s between the cross blades to see her opponent’s muscles twitch and hair stand on end until their weapons freeze together and pull apart in a shatter of ice.

Step, swing, shock, shatter.  This movement’s tempo is lively and its notes are loud as the words unsaid.

A cheek is cut.  A hand is slashed.  A fleshy palm emerges from broken chitin.

“Now that’s more like it,”  Eris growls.  “You made me bleed, now come taste it!”

Gretchen shakes her hands free of the coverings that got between her grip and her spear.  Settles into a stance meant for close-quarters footwork.  Rushes in too close to swing or parry and stabs.

Stab, redirect, cut, grapple.  The dance’s final movement is an intimate one.

Hands grab wrists.  Spearpoints rest at necks.  Eyes lock.

“There you are,” Eris breathes.  “I knew you could do it.”

Ą̸̥̥̘̪͈̗̥̬̒̿͂̐̌́̔Ắ̶̪̼̞̳̼͉̰̘͙̹̍̀͛̈́̿͘͘Ą̵̝̳͚͈̺̟̬̻̗̟̓R̵͈͍̙̘̰̽̀̚Ř̵͉̝͉͉͇̇͊̃̃́͗͝R̷̛̗̫̙̎͌͐̇̅̈̇̚͝͝T̵̜̘̻̓̈̓̋T̵̙̆͂̎́̆Ţ̵̥̗̩̲̂̆̄͊́̍̿̂̄͘͘!̴̤͓͔̫̼͙̰͚͇̀͋̉͌̀̒͝!̵̧̞̟̜̝̳̳͑̇̂̀!̴̡̨̬͍͚͉̮̈́̊͊͊͂̈́͛̈́

The two of them maintain their embrace, breathing heavily.

Gretchen attempts to move in closer still, but is stopped by the blade still at her neck.

For a moment, Eris considers letting the blade shift out of the way.  She was able to bring her back from the brink, so could it work?  Without that one thing between them, could they?  Looking out for one another, could they grow old?

Eris’s grip on her spear loosens.  Gretchen’s does the same.  Blades shift away from necks.  Distance closes.  Smoke fills the air with the smell of incense.

Eris blinks and sees Gretchen’s face anew.

That expression on her one-time partner’s face says all the reasons it could never work.  Pulled back from the brink but not yet fully lucid.  There’s still hunger there, and while it’s less bloody now, it’s still enough to draw her into an intertwined spiral if she were to let it.  She can picture it now: Overconfidence in their ability to pull one another back morphing into enabling one another to ever greater risks until they both fall at once.

Eris takes a deep breath.  Lets it out.  Lets go.  Steps back.

Maybe if they could both give up the hunt, but neither of them are that strong yet.

“Good job,” a familiar voice says from behind her.

Eris turns around and finds herself gazing into a person-shaped hole.  A suggestion of identity without truth or core.  And then it’s just Road, a smoking censer dangling from one hand and the match to the lifeline amulet dangling from the other.  A rock of stability in the middle of the chaos while the rest of the scene dissolves back into the white noise.

“Something wrong?” Road asks.

“No, just taking a minute for the incense to kick in and clear my head.  Thanks for that.”

“Of course, although you were holding up remarkably well without it.  Not many people could.  Speaking of...”

Eris turns back around, following their gaze to where Gretchen has discarded her spear in favor of curling in on herself and shaking with silent sobs.  Her words are barely coherent as Road comforts her, but Eris can make out enough to piece together a picture.  With the incense slowly clearing Eris’s own fog over the memory of what she’s been through since entering this space, not having a similar reaction is a matter of well-practiced effort, and she wasn’t the one who went through a near ego death.

Eris slings her own spear back over her shoulder, picks up Gretchen’s, and then offers her other shoulder to lean on.  The two of them follow Road back to the door to realspace in silence.  On the real side of the threshold, Eris spares one last glance back to see a swirling mass of tentacles, eyes, and tiny ancient flames.

*******

Eris leans on the outside of her van, surrounded by cursed and haunted artifacts and answering a wall of text messages and pile of voice mails through the glare of the late afternoon sun and listening to the hum of the engine.  It turned out they were in the eldritch warped space for the better part of a day and only the grace of the campus having just started its break between summer and fall semesters has saved them from some uncomfortable Masquerade-endangering questions from students and faculty that might otherwise have walked into a booby-trapped hallway and a door to nowhere.

“How’s she doing?”  Road asks.

Eris looks up from her phone.  Has she ever heard them approach?

“She’s sleeping it off,” Eris answers with a thumb cocked over her shoulder towards the back of the van.  “I’ll wake her up and get these loaded back in when we’re ready to head home.  How’s the eldritch?”

“Doing as well as it’s possible to tell with one of them,” he says.  “Communication’s always a bit tricky, but seems like no permanent harm done and no grudges held.  I had a good long talk with it about more responsible feeding habits, consent, safety, and the wide range in mortal tolerances to eldritch contact.  And I was able to talk it into helping with the cleanup in the hallway before it left, so we’re good on that front.”  She gestures toward Eris’s phone.  “News from the office?”

“Yeah.  A client came in this morning, but Ashan and Lacuna handled it.  Sounds like it turned into this whole thing with some fairy lord getting involved, but it all worked out.  They’re on their way back now with a changeling and their human counterpart, so we’ll have some more followup to do there.  I figure I can get the rest of these delivered while you handle that.”

Road smiles warmly and shakes their head.  “You should get some rest too when we get back.  You deserve it after today.”

Eris tries and fails to meet Road’s eyes.  A question burns.  She struggles to voice it.

“What was all that about starlight in a dark forest?”

“Oh, caught that, did you?  I guess you could call it a code phrase of sorts between people that do a lot of travel between worlds.  It’s also a question that should only be asked by those who already know the answer.  But that’s not what you really want to ask about, is it?”

No.  It isn’t.

Eris closes her eyes.  Breathes.  Opens her eyes.  Does her best to meet Road’s eyes.

“How much did you see?”

Road nods in understanding.  “Bits and pieces.  Enough.  I did what I could to keep it from prying too deeply or to shift its focus when it looked like things were getting too private.”

“And before that?”

“I was busy trying to subdue a panicking eldritch within a warped space under its control at the time, so my focus was elsewhere.  But,” they admit, “I did feel some of it.  I felt Gretchen too.”

“Oh.  I see.  Could you… maybe not mention any of that to the others?  Some of the stuff from when I was a kid I haven’t even told Lacuna about.”

“Of course.  I’ll do my best to forget I saw any of it.”

“Thanks.”

“And if it helps, I’ve seen firsthand what it’s like when someone completely unravels and loses themself, and I don’t see that ever happening to you.  Especially not after today.”

“That… does help, actually.  Thank you.”

It helps more than it should.

“You’re welcome.  You want to wake Gretchen while I get these boxes?”

“Sure thing,” Eris says, moving towards the van’s sliding door.  “Oh, but one more thing?”

“Yes.”

“I know you meant well, calling out to me when I was on the edge back there, but E isn’t a name for you to call me.”

*******

Gently as she can, Eris closes the door to Gretchen’s room and heads back downstairs.  She steps lightly over the one board she knows creaks so as not to wake the changeling and their brother sleeping in the other two guest rooms of the bed and breakfast above the office.  The thought crosses her mind that the creaky board might have been a security feature left in on purpose with all of Sullivan’s renovations on the building, but she doesn’t follow it.  She’s too tired and it doesn’t matter.

Lacuna is waiting for her by the reception desk.

“Hey.”

“Yo.”

“So, uh, didn’t get the chance to talk, really.  Since we all got back.  What with the clients and all.”

“I guess not.”

“So…  Are you… Okay?”

Blood between her teeth.  Hunting.  Names forgotten.  Burning.  Hunger.  A heavy, wet, crunching sound repeating over and over.

“Been better.  You?”

“Tired.  But what else is new?”

Eris nods.  What else indeed?  “The others head out already?”

“Yeah.  Bridgewood Manor.  Road mentioned Sullivan might be back soon.”

“I should probably be there for that.”  Eris leans on the reception desk.  She’s so tired.

“I’m sure they’ll fill us in.”

“Probably.”

Lacuna Looks over at the living room.  “We’ve got a couch.”

“Huh?”  So tired.

“If we’ve got guests, we probably shouldn't leave the office unattended.  So reason to stay here.  But all the beds are taken.  So couch.”

Eris pushes off the reception desk, staggers over, and throws her arms around her best friend.  She feels Lacuna stagger under her limp weight.  She feels a shaking hand stroke across her back.  She feels a chin rest in the curve between her shoulder and neck.

“Sis?”

“Yeah, E?”

“Do you think,” Eris’s voice cracks, “we could do movie night early this week?”

*******

“This one?”

“This one.”

“You realize it’s your turn to choose the movie, right?”

“I know.  And.  I chose this one.”

“...”

“...”

“I’m surprised this one was even on the shelf here.”

“I figured it’d be good to get a copy to leave here.  Just in case.”

“...”

“...”

“Sis?”

“Yeah, E?”

“Just this once, do you think you could say my other name?”

<-Previous Chapter Masterpost Next Chapter->

#This originally opened with showing one of the deliveries but it was going on too long without being the real point of the chapter. #I swear at this rate Eris's POV is going to have a quarter of the chapter count by half the wordcount. #writers on tumblr #writing #original fiction #urban fantasy #web novel #Writeblr #Empty Names #serial fiction #creative writing #literature #writers #fantasy #fiction #my writing #emptynameswriting #If Gretchen keeps this up she's in danger of becoming a recurring major character. #I worry this chapter loses a little bit in the Tumblr post formatting not letting me play with the alignment on the eldritch text #Just pretend the indented text is right-aligned for the eldritch and center-aligned for Road. #Not to stroke my own ego too much but I'm very pleased with how much this chapter builds on itself and prior chapters. #Recurring phrases imagery and such. And foreshadowing. #The long sequence of Eris losing herself to the hunt is all retellings of events that have either happened or been referenced earlier. #I'll confess I'm kind of nervous about having finally made more concrete references to Eris's ethnicity. #Worried about accidentally being disrespectful in some way. #Same with the inclusion of Dylan as an explanation of how Eris learned sign language. #I am pleased with how the childhood flashback segments turned out though. #And the “Art” flashbacks. And the last dance with Gretchen. #Mostly I think I just really like playing with repeating format/structure for paragraphs and sentences. #Makes me feel like I'm dabbling in poetry or something.

[angry-geese]

Blood Ties - Chapter Thirty-eight: Some Things Cosmic

Soulmate au Choso x Reader

Warnings: heavy cw for murder and overall violence in this chapter. There are several on-screen deaths for non major characters, and also a brief mention of torture. If you do choose to skip this chapter then it shouldn't effect too many things plot wise as the major plot important things will be brought up again in future chapters

Synopsis: while investigating rumors of an exit meant for civilians, the remaining players in the culling game find themselves in conflict with one another once again

Word count: 3.7k

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Masterlist

It doesn't take long for the air to grow muggy, and uncomfortably warm. Mallory joins him on the roof, resting her sword on the ground beside her. She has shoved her eye patch into her hairline like a headband, pulling her bangs away from her face. Her injured eye is closed.

"Who do you think has a stronger cursed technique?" She asks. "You? Or me?"

White smoke hangs on the horizon, mingling with the incoming fog. The smell of melted plastic hangs faintly in the air.

"Well to figure that out, you'd have to tell me," James says.

Figuring it out by using his Matchmaker wouldn't be impossible. But trying to use it without her knowing would be hard.

“Hm, I don't think I'm going to do that,” she says, laughing softly.

There's a knock at the door. A head of black hair pokes out. Maria. She's dressed differently today, in black slacks, and a white blouse. In her hands, she cradles a bowl of fruit; slices of apple, peeled oranges, cut strawberries.

“I know it's not much,” she says, “but I figured you’d want breakfast.”

James grabs the first thing off the top: a slice of apple. As he bites into it, the juice runs down his fingers. He must be getting sick, he thinks, all he can taste anymore are cigarettes. Food seemingly turns into ash in his mouth anymore.

"Did you sleep out here on the roof?" Maria asks.

"Only for a bit." James answers.

Although his response wasn't meant as a joke, Maria laughs. “Are you leaving soon?” She asks.

James nods, swallowing hard. From his pocket, he produces a crumpled pack of cigarettes, only to toss it aside when he finds it empty.

“We’ll head out there early,” he says. “The plan is to investigate that exit, and see if it's guarded. Hopefully we’ll be back sometime before dark.”

“We’ll leave out the back,” Mallory says. “Too much activity in one building could draw suspicion.”

“That's assuming someone is watching us,” James says.

“We can never be too careful.” She says.

He would sense someone if they were nearby. The only souls he can pick up in this area are that of the survivors, and his fellow sorcerer.

James follows closely behind Mal. Her pace is quick. A walk that should take about twenty minutes is completed in fifteen. No cursed spirits appear to roam the streets today, but their residuals linger. For winter, the day is turning out to be uncharacteristically warm. It doesn't take long for the moisture in the air to soak through James’ shirt, making it stick uncomfortably to his skin. The insides of his boots grate uncomfortably against his heels, leaving them raw, and blistered.

The sky opens up, spitting out a new player, who soon disappears behind some buildings. James pauses, taking a swig from his water bottle, grimacing when he finds its contents to be warm. The presence of a new soul makes him pause. A sorcerer. Movement in the window of an apartment building catches James’ eye. A man has his back to it, reaching down to grab something. Aside from a knife on his belt, he has no other weapons that James can see. That doesn't mean much. There's a whole lot of places he could be hiding one.

His cursed energy isn't noticeably strong, but as he's startled by a noise, he's able to extinguish it completely. The man stuffs something into his pack, before hopping put a window onto the fire escape. He descends the stairs, before knocking the ladder down, and using that to exit onto the street.

Upon seeing the two sorcerers blocking off the alley, the man’s mouth opens in terror. He stumbles, scrambling against the side of a building to catch himself.

“Hand over your points, and we’ll let you live.” James says.

"And if I do?" Talen spits. "You'll just kill me anyway!"

“It doesn't have to end that way,” James says. “You’ve been given an option to resolve this.”

To his credit, Talen does appear to consider it. He hikes his pack a bit higher up on his shoulders, before turning, and breaking out into a sprint.

James grabs ahold of the string of fate, and tugs hard. Talen is tripped by this unseen force, landing flat on his stomach. James takes this as an opportunity to pin him, sitting square on his back. Blood beads where the tip of his blade presses against his throat.

“When I was younger, a man stole my mom’s purse,” James says. “Now my step dad and uncle weren't all that happy with this. So they found the guy, started chatting him up, and eventually went out for drinks,

“They got this guy real plastered. So drunk that the bartender cut them off. Then they went back to my uncle’s house, under the guise they would keep drinking,

“Now my uncle slipped some of my aunt’s sleeping meds into the guy's drink, and waited for him to pass out. It took a while—but that didn't seem to matter to them. They could wait. When he did, they tied him up in the garage, and waited for him to wake up,

“He was there for a few days. They didn't give him anything to eat, or drink. He had to piss in the same spot he slept. Eventually, my step dad melted the guy’s fingers off with a welding torch,

“I say this now,” James says, “because I have a few creative ideas of what to do with you if you don't comply.”

He drags the tip of his knife down his neck, tracing his collarbone. James can get creative with this.

“Fine!” He wails. “You can have my points! Kogane! Kogane!! I wish to transfer my points to this player!”

Silently, a kogane appears. This one is slightly different in color than the others that James has seen, but its overall shape is the same. Instead of being orange in tone, this one is a sickly blue-green.

“Confirm your point transfer!” It says, unraveling a scroll. Talen taps his finger against the scroll, which lights up blue in response.

Fifty-three points have been added to: Whitford, James

James Whitford current points: sixty-eight.

“Now I have a few questions for you,” James says. “Whether or not you walk away from this depends on the answer you give,

“What do you know about the subway station? And the group in the center of this colony?”

“The… what?” Talen sputters as James shoves his head back into the ground. “I don't know any more than you! Just that they’re powerful, and surviving an encounter with them is rare!”

Mallory crosses her arms over her chest. “Well, he knows nothing, shocking,” she says flatly. “Are you going to kill him now?”

“Wait!” Talen shouts. “Wait! There's something weird about this colony!

“Each of the eleven colonies has something special about them,” he continues. “A relic buried deep in the center—and that relic has something to do with the strength of this barrier!”

“So we can escape if we find some way to destroy it?” James asks.

“Not exactly. These relics likely can't be destroyed. That's why they were buried.” As he swallows, the tip of the knife digs a little deeper into his throat. “I've come to the conclusion that each of the barriers is on top of a piece of land that once held religious significance—either a sacrificial ground, or a place of mass tragedy,

“And I don't know why these places are linked. But they are. And what's buried beneath them is powerful.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Mallory asks.

“You’ve got a knife to my neck, what do you expect me to say?!”

Strands of Talen’s soul pour through James’ fingers like smoke. It's a weak soul. An old one. And although he senses fear, Talen isn't lying.

James stands, brushing the dust off the front of his pants. Thirty two more to go. When he turns to Mallory, she has his revolver level with his head.

So this is it. This is how this ends. Not in a grand battle, but a betrayal. A fitting end to a violent, short life.

James takes a step back before his joints lock up entirely. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he says. He senses movement behind him, but in his frenzied state, thinks nothing of it.

Bang!

James covers his ears, and rolls to the side. He hits the ground hard. The skin on his elbows splits and bleeds upon making contact with the concrete. When he cracks open an eye, he expects to be dead. Or, at the very least, to be met with the sight of blood.

His ears ring. The sky has gotten so bright that he has to squint. Talen coughs a warm spray of blood into James’ face. The wound on his chest is about the size of a nickel, while the one on the back is the size of a grapefruit. A clean hit. Blood loss will soon render him unconscious. Without quick medical intervention, such a wound will prove fatal.

James isn't sure who is yelling: him, or Mallory.

“Holy shit! Are you alright?!” Mallory asks.

“Yes,” he says, dejectedly, “thank you.”

Ashes fall slowly from the air. White, like snow. A thin blanket layers the ground. More fires. They glow faintly along the horizon. Occasionally, the burned out shell of a building is visible.

Mallory turns the revolver over in her hands, offering it to James. “It fell out of your pocket when you tackled him.”

He accepts it, stuffing it back under his belt. The hot metal burns his skin.

James notices her pause, and asks "What's the matter?"

"I haven't got any points," she says. Their gazes turn to Talen, although not much has changed. He lays face down on the pavement in a pool of ever growing blood.

"He must not be dead yet." James says. "You’ll have to finish him off with a blow of cursed energy."

Her hands tremble slightly. Blood drips down her wrist, onto the hilt of her sword. Her cursed energy flickers wildly.

“Do you want me to do it?” He asks.

“No,” she says, shaking her head, “it's been a while since my last kill. I don't want to be subjected to cursed technique removal—better to be safe than sorry, you know?”

Without another word, she drives the tip of her blade into his back. As his heart stops, a kogane appears, announcing the points awarded.

Five points have been added to: Park, Mallory

It has finally occurred to James that this is the first time he’s seen her kogane. It's not all that different from his, however, he’s come to notice that the appearances of the game interfaces appear to vary from player to player.

“That shot definitely alerted other players in this area,” she says. “We need to get moving.”

From Talen's pocket, James retrieves a pack of cigarettes. Newports.

He rolls the body onto its (his?) side. Blood soaks through the front of his shirt, and coats James’ palms. Unable to maneuver his pack around his already stiffening limbs, he cuts the straps to it. Once the bag is free, he lays its contents out on the ground.

The man has nothing else of use on him. His bag contains a small cooking kit, consisting of a few collapsible pots, and some utensils. There's a firestarter, some twine, and a palm-sized sharpening stone. His other camping supplies consist of a small sleeping bag, and a white tarp. As far as rations go, he has a small bag of dried fruit, and a canteen. Empty. It still smells faintly of a factory, as if it hasn't been used yet.

“If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you that day we first met.” Mallory says.

"What?"

She motions to him vaguely. "You looked like you really thought I was about to kill you."

"I guess I did," he says, biting onto the end of an unlit cigarette.

"He pulled out a knife," she says. "And I guess I panicked. I figured I'd shoot first and ask questions later."

“I never told you this, but I was with another group before I found you.” She says. “I knew one of them from before—she and I used to be neighbors. The other I didn't know very well. They weren't from this era—or at least that's what they told me. They were looking for someone named Ryoumen Sukuna. Whoever that is,

“Is that name familiar to you?” Mal asks. “I didn't see it on the player list, but that doesn't mean anything. Plenty of people have nicknames.”

“Ryoumen Sukuna is in one of the Tokyo colonies,” James says.

Mallory, strangely enough, seems content with his answer.

Wind makes his lit match flicker as he brings it to his mouth. He cups his hand around it, but it still takes him a few tries to light his cigarette. He curses himself silently for leaving that pack back at the hotel.

“Your cursed technique makes it so you can sense other players, doesn't it?” She asks. “Talen’s cursed energy was completely extinguished, yet you noticed him a few seconds before I did. Not to mention you were able to track down Aikawa from over a block away,

"So tell me," she says, "what does your cursed technique really do?"

"Aside from my Matchmaker, there's other things I can do." He says. "If not a direct cause of being born a sorcerer, then a side effect."

Mallory holds her hands up in defense. "I'm just trying to figure you out." She says. "I know you're here for a reason, but I don't get it. It seems out of character for you."

"A lot of things have changed since we were kids." He says.

It's not until he pauses that he senses another soul.

Camouflaging one's cursed energy is one thing. Completely camouflaging a soul is another. With enough practice, many sorcerers are able to momentarily extinguish their cursed energy. For something that is invisible to the average human—and most sorcerers—the ability to do such a thing is nearly useless. Unless faced with an enemy such as the soulmate sorcerer, there is no need for it.

A single crow sits on the power lines above them.

James hasn't seen many animals around since he got here. No pigeons, rats, or even bugs. Were they teleported out alongside the other non players? Or have they been killed off already, hunted for food or sport?

"There's something weird about that bird." James says.

"Did you hit your head?" Mallory asks. Whether or not she is joking, James can't tell.

"A while ago, I met a sorcerer who could control crows." He says. "Through entering a biding vow, she'd essentially project her mind into the bird's."

She was another freelancer, like him. And you don't want to piss her off, he thinks.

“So you’re trying to tell me that someone—possibly another player—is controlling that crow specifically?” She says, sitting down on the curb. "Why don't we rest for a minute?"

Mallory’s words fall on deaf ears. "When was the last time you saw any pigeons?" He asks. "Or rats? Or—hell, even cockroaches?"

Mallory shrugs. "I dunno. I haven't been paying attention to that since I'm so busy with—you know—not dying!"

Despite Tokyo—and, in turn, much of Japan—being quite clean, it's still a city. Plenty of rodents and bugs call the place home. As far as supplies go, food isn't scarce, so that rules out hunting. Killing the local wildlife for sport is a possibility, but unlikely, as they grant no points, and therefore aren't worth the effort.

"I haven't seen any wildlife since I got here," James says. "Until now."

He points at the crow, which simply caws, before flying to the top of a nearby building. Mallory claps her hands together, muttering something about her fellow sorcerer losing his mind.

From the sidewalk, James scoops up a piece of brick. His throw misses miserably, bouncing off the side of a nearby building. The crow takes flight, before disappearing over a nearby building.

James heads after it.

As he cuts through an alley, he’s able to catch up with it. A sign above them reads "subway station" in bold white lettering. The corvid makes a sudden break for the open set of doors, heading straight down into the station. Several souls come into view all at once, and James is only able to say one word: “ambush.”

He is able to brace for the first hit, but not the second. When the blast of cursed energy strikes him in the back, he's thrown forwards. The metallic taste of blood fills his mouth.

The lights in this part of the station seem to switch off all at once. Enough light pours in from the stairs to make out the figure standing in the door, but not much more than that. Blindly he feels around for the hilt of his sword, before picking it up, and making a break for it.

Judging by the sound of loud banging, and items skittering across the floor, he’s knocked over a trash can. Someone behind him is shouting—a man. But James can't discern what he’s saying.

With his left hand, he feels along the wall, before the bricks are replaced with something smooth: a door. Much to his surprise, it is unlocked, and James slips into the empty broom closet, closing the door as quietly as he can manage. He's met with the faint smell of mildew, and cleaning chemicals.

James isn't familiar with this place even the slightest. The dark, and adrenaline isn't helping much. He can only continue to conceal his cursed energy for so long before he's too weak to do anything about it. His heavy breaths leave the air in this closet stuffy.

He holds his breath, and with it, quiets down his cursed energy. Of the two souls he senses outside the door, neither are familiar. One is old. Certainly a reincarnated sorcerer. The other is much harder to tell, but appears younger.

“It's like he knew,” one says to the other.

“It’s not the first time you’ve been followed.” This voice sounds a bit older. Both are male, and muffled by the barrier between them.

James senses their souls as they grow closer, before stopping in front of the door.

“There was another.” The younger man says. “He had a woman with him. They didn't seem to have any supplies on them so they must have a base nearby.”

“You think they’re with that other group?”

“No way to tell,” he says. “Maybe if we can catch a live one…”

He doesn't have time to think. He just needs to get it over with.

With his heel, he kicks the door open. The edge of the door hits one player square in the forehead. It’s enough to stun him, leaving him bleeding from a wound on his forehead.

Every twenty yards or so a red light is placed. Hardly enough to help light the path, but at least James can now see a few feet in front of him. His blade meets something soft. Fresh blood splatters back at him.

Ten points have been added to: Whitford, James

He's running again. By the time he spots daylight, the remaining three souls in this area have blinked out. Mallory stands at the bottom of the stairs, sweat and blood plastering her bangs to her forehead. She’s bleeding from a wound on her shoulder. She holds her sword in two hands. The blade appears dull, and coated with a dark substance. Her cursed energy pools around her heart, into her hands.

Another fifteen points have been added to James. Ten to Mallory.

There are no bright lights, or flashy sounds to indicate anything special about this part of the barrier. The tunnel simply extends out into a space so dark that the flashlight on James’ phone won't even disturb it. A lone kogane guards the tracks, sitting at its post like a soldier.

The kogane, upon noticing the two players, shoots to attention. “This exit is reserved for civilians only!” It says in its robotic, cheery voice. “Players may not leave through this exit!”

Mallory has marked off this part of her map with a circle. He sits beside her on a bench. When he offers her a cigarette, she accepts it. The flame from his match casts his face in an orange glow. Smoke hangs low in the air in front of him.

“I have plans to put a rule into place where people joined by the string of fate will be able to leave.” He says.

Mallory leans back in her seat, crossing her arms behind her head. “And your cursed technique can join people by the string of fate…” she says. “Shame. If my husband were here, I could leave.”

That explains why he couldn't find the surname Turner on the player list. She changed it.

“You don't sound particularly upset,”

“I've come to terms with it,” she says. “We’ve only been dealt so many cards, you know? I'm just playing the hand I’ve been dealt.” She coughs as she takes a drag from her cigarette.

“I heard them talking about that group,” James says. “if we don't deal with them soon, they’re going to be a problem.”

Mallory sighs, pressing her knuckles into her temples. “There's only two of us,” she says. “Attacking them would be a suicide mission. I'm not particularly eager to poke the hornet's nest.”

“I never said attack them outright—if we can cause some sort of infighting within their group, then hopefully it’ll start to cannibalize itself,” James says. “We kill off one player, pin it on another, and let them do the work from there.”

“That's a terrible idea.”

With seventy-eight points now, putting that rule into place seems more and more plausible. Only six more players to go. Unless he can convince someone else to hand over their points.

James groans as he stands. His hand moves to knead at his aching shoulder. Work isn't treating him kindly. Not now. Not ever. “If I'm to put this rule into place, I need the points from those players,” he says. “Talen’s points helped quite a bit, but it's not enough.”

“I'd hand over mine,” she says, “but I’m saving up to put a rule into place myself.”

James holds his cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, flicking the ash that gathers at the head. “Oh really? How many points do you have?”

“About eighty.” Mallory answers. “Give or take.”

Despite wanting to press further, he decides against it.

When they return to their camp, one of the civilians is dead.

#blood ties #choso x reader #jjk x reader #choso #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #cw blood and injury #cw murder #murder cw #originally there was a flashback to shibuya at the beginning of this chapter but i decided to cut it :/

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE EIGHTEEN || SAGE

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of blood + mention of killing + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 10 april

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 3

↳ next episode : black flash

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, i did cringe a bit writing this episode for some reason ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ but also i have been getting a lot of asks in my inbox asking me if you can add me on genshin impact, and i am not opposed to that! just tell me in advance  ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ also volume one of komi can’t communicate came in today! also...the idea i have is coming in soon...so beware.....BUT thank you so much for being so patient with the series and hope you enjoy this special cup of classic black coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

Destructive Curse Spell Number Fifty-Four : Haien : 6:08-6:12 (but like it’s more emphasised to look like this : 1:55-2:05)

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“Where the hell is Fushiguro, right now?” you muttered under your breath as you swiftly ran around the extremely large building you were currently in right now after trying to run away from Kyoto student: Kamo Noritoshi, who seemed too adamant to catch you for some odd reason.

At this current moment in time, you were desperately trying to find your partner after instantly splitting up with him when you both had entered the building causing you to become concerned for the shikigami user since his opponent didn’t seem to be holding back. Even though in the back of your mind, this was your one and only opportunity to go and find the curse you needed to exorcise for your school team to win the first day of the Exchange Event, you knew that the second that Kamo could sense your curse energy leave the premises, he would turn away from his battle and chase you down leaving Fushiguro the role of trying to locate you - which was going to be difficult for him.

Digging into your skirt pocket, you quickly pulled out a fist that had a few pink petals that you had kept after you had used some of them to attack Kamo earlier before gradually transferring some of your cursed energy within them. Slowly, you processed to open your palm letting the same blush coloured petals begin to glide into the air allowing them to travel down the hall you were running through right now causing specks of your cursed energy to be located everywhere they moved to lead your opponents to be somewhat confused about where you really were right now.

                                              ꕥ

“Your team partner seemed to be the smart type,” Kamo mentioned as he turned his head to look behind him since he slowly began to sense the chaotic flow of cursed energy that was beginning to vastly surround the building right now as he was quickly struggling to locate the original source of the cursed energy that he needed to find, which was you.

“She’s always been the smart type, it’s quite scary in my opinion,” Fushiguro commented before raising his tonfas in a defensive position before taking the time given to him to try to locate where you were before giving up the second he tried once his discovered how immense your cursed energy was flowing in the building right now.

‘What the hell? How does she do that?’

Hastily, Fushiguro lunged himself forward as he attempted to attack Kamo leading his opponent to block his hit before suddenly retaliating, only for Fushiguro to defend himself quickly as well. However, it seemed as if both sorcerers were not going to give up as easily as a continuous row of attacks commenced between the two causing them to travel backwards and forwards along the hallway they were in right now.

Suddenly, there was a violent contact with the backs of their wrists leading Kamo to proceed to swiftly turn his body to the side of the opposition as he forcibly thrust his palm out towards the shikigami user causing Fushiguro to use his remaining tonfa to block his attack causing his weapon to snap in half as well as him being pushed back to the other side of the hallway where he first stood.

Staring down at the now tattered wooden weapon, Fushiguro casually threw it to the side leading Kamo to begin to spew out with what was currently running through his mind.

“Shikigami users who can fight this well in close combat are precious, you’ve improved. I’m happy,” Kamo expressed with an impressed tone, leading Fushiguro to unexpectedly cringe at the amount of time you had beaten him up during the past two months of training you both had together.

“What is this sense of fellowship you keep throwing out?” Fushiguro asked in an irritated tone since he wasn’t in the mood to converse about anything to do with the clans at this moment in time.

“I’m sympathising, someday you’ll be one of those supporting the major clans, well maybe the four major clans if the L/N remained after the Heian Era,” Kamo suggested, causing the erratic-haired sorcerer to look at the opposition with a deadpan expression painted on his face.

“Gojo doesn’t even support the clans even though she is in the Gojo clan,” Fushiguro reminded Kamo leading to the sorcerer in front of him to shift slightly as if the news to him was surprising at all since it seemed as if you and the strongest sorcerer was ‘close’ despite the joking tension between you both.

“I intend to kill Itadori Yuji,” Kamo suddenly announced, as if that was not known to everyone within the Tokyo team right now.

“On Principal Gakuganji’s orders? So why chase after Gojo?” Fushiguro questioned, as he was still perplexed on why the blood manipulation sorcerer would go after you if his main priority was to eliminate his friend and classmate.

“No, it’s my personal decision. As a member of the Kamo clan, one of the three major clans, I believe that’s the right call,” Kamo answered before going silent, as if he had something in mind currently before he began to voice his opinion once again, “you should be able to understand that, too,”.

“Sorry, but I really don’t get it at all”

Suddenly, Kamo unexpectedly left something lightly slice his cheek slightly causing him to turn to view what was behind him to notice that you were standing there with your armed raised up, leading him to turn back forward to discover your katana piercing the wall that was behind Fushiguro (who looked at you with widened eyes) as your teammate managed to move his head to the side in time before your weapon pierced him instead.

“Oh, I missed,” you commented as you noticed a hint of blood escaping from his small wound, before using your other hand to violently pull the invisible chain of your katana back like a boomerang leading Kamo to swiftly dodge the weapon this time, while being surprised on how you had managed to retrieve your sword back without moving an inch towards it.

“What do you mean? You, me and Fushiguro are the same,” Kamo then declared, causing you to give him an extremely offended look from behind before turning to the side as if to convey to the sorcerer that you weren’t going to listen to him anymore.

“No, we’re not,” Fushiguro replied with an annoyed as well as fed-up expression on his face, as he didn’t expect his opponent to say something as weird as he did right now.

‘He’s spouting some scary stuff all of a sudden...and couldn’t Gojo warn me about this little attack of hers?’

“We are,” Kamo responded, only for Fushiguro to retaliate back leading you to turn your head back to the conversation with a slightly vexed look since you didn’t want such a stupid discussion between two descendants of the three major clans to go on forever like this.

“We’re not, please save those discussions for Maki-san. I no longer have any connection with the Zenin clan,” Fushiguro informed his opponent causing Kamo to turn to you as if you would try to have an understanding of what he was trying to carry out.

“Remember, I don’t actually have any connections to the Gojo clan, I’m not related to them by blood and even if Gojo-sensei adopted me out of the blue,” you explained to Kamo while raising your hands up like you were surrendering when really you were trying to avoid any topic to do with the clans overall.

“Besides, I don’t believe I’m ‘right’. No, sorry. That’s not right, I don’t care if I’m right or wrong,” Fushiguro commented as he looked down towards his raised hand with a softened expression to which caused Kamo to turn back to the shikigami user.

“I just...have faith in my own good conscience, I save people according to my own conscience. If you would reject that, then...we’ll just have to curse each other,” Fushiguro suddenly declared, as a wave of cursed energy began to surround him causing you to sudden be on guard since you didn’t know what your classmate had prepared.

Unexpectedly, a shikigami frog appeared from the side causing you to prepare yourself in an attack stance in case Kamo decided to move towards you, to which he did turn to face you only for the same shikigami to dissolve into the shadow it had come from leading Kamo to open his eyes in shock at the common but smart strategy that the younger sorcerer had come up with.

“This one burns through cursed energy, so I can only use it by itself. I only recently tamed it,” Fushiguro explained before positioning his hands in front of him as he prepared the next shikigami that he was going to summon.

“Max elephant,” the shikigami user announced before the shadow below him began to merge into the shape of a pink elephant leading you to look at the animal with widened eyes as you didn’t expect such a large shikigami to appear right in front of you.

‘What the hell?’ you thought, as the elephant’s cheeks began to swell up while Kamo began to position himself into an attack position. However, it seemed the elephant was going to attack first as a suddenly sprouted out a massive wave of water that could fill up the ocean, causing you to yell out in shock before quickly deciding to stab your katana deeply into the ground to have something to hold on to as Kamo quickly swept into the mass of water leading to the wall behind to break.

“Maybe tell me when you are going to attack, you drag!” you yelled out to your classmate in anger as he rushed next to you causing your partner to look at you weirdly since you were kind of being hypocritical at this current moment in time.

“Just jump across to attack him while I use Nue to corner him!” Fushiguro stated to you in a serious tone, leading you to nod at him before launching yourself forward towards the sorcerer with your katana blade facing the opposite direction it was supposed to since you didn’t want to critically damage your opponent.

Behind you, Fushiguro interlocked his thumbs before fanning out the rest of his finger to represent wings as he swiftly summoned Nue into the battle leading the bird-like creature to strike him with lightning, paralysing Kamo for a second before he suddenly reached into his uniform to slowly reveal a bag of blood to which he then proceeded to throw the object in your direction, causing Nue to bump into you as if to move you away from the item as the blood bag quickly exploded causing the shikigami to be trapped within what seemed to be a rope of blood.

However, you could not let the sudden event faze you as you proceeded to place your foot to the side of the building you were pushed against before thrusting yourself downwards with extreme force to attack Kamo while Fushiguro dashed towards the same opponent to do the same thing.

“I can’t afford to lose!” Kamo screamed as he began to lung forward towards Fushiguro.

Suddenly, a large explosion destructively echoed behind you leading you to reach to the ground with one hand before riskily twisting the same hand to make your body spin before you quickly landed of your feet to the ground causing Fushiguro to look at you with a worried expression before all three of you peered up above to see a vast structure of what seemed to be wood, growing ever to rapidly in the air.

“What is this?” Kamo questioned in a panic before Fushiguro noticed someone running along the tiles rooftop from above.

“Inumaki-senpai?!” Fushguro yelled out in an alarmed tone causing you to look to the side to see your senior classmate running in what seemed to be incomplete adrenaline and fear.

“Run-away!” Inumaki spoke, causing his voice to ring out to everyone as they realised that it was his cursed technique that was occurring right now, causing your bodies to instantly run away from the mass destruction that was occurring right now.

                                              ꕥ

“Huh?” Utahime muttered as she stared at the how red flamed paper talisman while everyone in the room with her peered at them with the same surprised expression.

“The game’s over? And they all burned red?” Utahime questioned as the flames quickly extinguished themselves leading to a large volume of smoke remaining.

“That’s odd, my crows didn’t see anything,” MeiMei commented.

“I’d love to say Great Teacher Gojo’s students exorcised them all, but…” Gojo mentioned as he placed his hands together as if to tell everyone in the room that he was thinking of another solution that might have caused this issue as all the screens in front of them now became static.

“The charms will burn red for unregistered cursed energy,” Principal Yaga informed everyone.

“You think it’s an outsider? Some invader?” Utahime queried, as she turned to her colleague with a concerned expression on her face.

“Does this mean Tengen-sama’s barrier isn’t functioning?” MeiMei then asked, but it wasn’t answered as Principal Gakuganji made a comment. 

“Whether it’s an outsider or not, something unexpected is happening all the same,” he mentioned before wondering how this intruder was able to exorcise the semi-first-grade he had planted in order to assassinate Itadori Yuji.

“I’m going to Tengen-sama, Satoru and Principal Gakuganji, please protect the students. Mei, you stay here and identify the locations of the students, stay in constant contact with the other two,” Principal Yaga instructed everyone.

“Fully understood, I look forward to the bonus,” MeiMei mentioned, as she turned her head towards the sorcerer trying to convey that she was willing to follow his instruction with a price to pay.

“Come on, Gramps! Time for a walk! You just finished your lunch, didn’t you? I don’t want my daughter injured with you being slow!” Gojo stated in a light but playful tone as he clapped his hands twice to get the elder’s attention, leading the mentioned sorcerer to become silent and annoyed at the Six-Eye shaman.

“Let’s hurry!” Utahime mentioned as she was becoming worried about the time they were spending on talking in the room they were in rather than going out right now to help the students that were in trouble.

                                               ꕥ

Running forward, you couldn’t help but notice how the branch that was behind you was still extending leading you to quicken your pace as everyone turned to the right, only for the same branch to twist itself in the same directions causing you to come to the conclusion that it was either a skilled curse user or special-grade curse that was the cause of it.

‘Did the mole tell whoever is doing this the location of the event?’

Although, before you could come to another conclusion on who was the mole within the group of Kyoto students, you suddenly heard Fushiguro gasp leading you to snap out of your thinking daze to see a large number of branches breaking through the wooden door that was in front of you leading to a vast volume of debris to rushingly come towards you to which caused you to over your face, allowing the veil that was processing to drip down above you to engulf every student at this current moment in time.

Once the huge mass of debris cleared itself, you noticed the change in colour around you before you turned your head towards the mass of branches in front of you with what seemed to be a curse standing on top of its masterpiece as if to showcase its sudden appearance.

“Why is there a cursed spirit at Jujutsu Tech? Who does this veil belong to?” Kamo asked rapidly, as his head was tilted up to view the intruder in front of him.

“Probably the curse user working with the cursed spirit,” Fushiguro answered, as he too was looking at the curse in front of him leading Kamo to question his knowledge about the situation in hand, while Inumaki let out a cough, causing you to worry about his condition right now since you didn’t have a single clue on how much he had used his voice in the current situation.

“There are a few unregistered special-grade cursed spirits roaming around Japan right now, probably this one was the one that attacked Gojo-sensei before,” you informed the sorcerers in front of you as you slowly began to remember the silly little drawing your adoptive father had given you when you first met with the Kyoto side’s principal.

“Tuna with mayo,” Inumaki commented as he waved a hand to signal a phone leading Fushiguro to agree with his upperclassmen as he proceeded to pull out his phone to contact Gojo, while Kamo commented on how Fushiguro could understand his classmate at all since he was still perplexed on how the Toyko students could even convey with him as well.

‘Why does it only look at me…?’

Yet, it seems as if you weren’t concentrating on their little conversation as you kept an eye on the curse since it seemed to be staring at you for some odd reason, leading you to tightly grip the hilt of your katana, as you now shifted your eyes down to make sure your fellow sorcerers (who were in front of you right now) were safe for the time being.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Fushiguro mentioned, as he placed his phone to his ear. “Maintain our distance and retreat to Gojo-sensei- '' Fushiguro then explained, but before he could finish his sentence, the curse swiftly moved behind Kamo before proceeding to break Fushiguro’s device from his hand.

“Don’t move!” Inumaki yelled out, leading to the curse freezing in its position before attacking Kamo, leading everyone to keep a distance away from the special-grade curse.

Suddenly, Kamo grabbed another bag of blood that he kept hidden within his uniform before letting it explode once again as he began to maintain control of the red substance. “Blood Manipulation: Slicing Exorcism!” Kamo yelled out before swinging the blood shaped shuriken towards your opponent, only for the curse to be left unscathed leaving the sorcerer to be surprised at the outcome.

Before the curse could even react, Nue suddenly appeared above you before flying downwards towards the special-grade curse with the same purple lightning you have gotten used to before Fushiguro suddenly swept in close to slash the curse with a sword he was hiding within his shadow like you had taught him to within the first week of training. However, it seemed that the katana’s dent that was made only healed as quickly as it appeared causing Fushiguro to tut in complete annoyance.

“.nerdlihc hsiloof, ti potS,”

“Stop it, foolish children,” the curse suddenly said, causing you to grab your head in surprise as you didn’t expect the curse that was in front of you right now to communicate to you at all since you didn’t have a clue on what it was saying but you somehow could understand it.

“I merely wish to protect this planet, that’s all,” the curse then explained, causing you to prepare your cursed energy to flow from your hand to your katana since you now knew that you needed to use your cursed technique to keep the others safe - yet you didn’t know how you could conceal the risk of being discovered.

“It’s a curse spouting nonsense! Don’t listen!” Kamo exclaimed intensely.

“This is on a whole different level than lower-grade cursed spirits,” Fushiguro then commented to Kamo as if it was obvious enough to everyone that was around that opponent at this current moment in time.

“The forests, the oceans, and the sky, all weep so vehemently that I can no longer stand it. It’s impossible to coexist with humans any longer. They know there are some humans who are kind to the planet, but how much does their affection even help?” the curse declared as it raised its head up to the sky as if it was speaking to a whole nation.

‘It somehow established its own language system...and somehow manages to communicate with us…’

“All they desire is time. This planet can shine blue once more, given a bit of time,” the curse spoke again before a sudden twist of branches appeared right behind the curse leading everyone that was in front of it to be on guard as the sudden impact that caused the ground to shake was evident enough on how dangerous this opponent was.

“Gojo Y/N...You can’t run, the veil is designed to keep you trapped within here...We need you for what is going to commence,” the curse suddenly declared causing you to look at it with wide eyes while all the boys turned to you with panicked expression painted on their faces since they were now concerned with your safety more right now than theirs.

‘I don’t know how long this curse spell will last, but I need to make sure it is enough to let everyone run before it can reach them’

“Is that so? Ah..what a drag,” you then asked, as you raised your katana up in the air with one hand as you gradually began to transfer a large amount of cursed energy within the blade. “You see, I began to notice that you seem to be a plant type of curse, I assume...something like wood right?” you rhetorically asked, before using your other hand to cover your mouth with the back of it to conceal the next few words that were going to come out of your mouth.

“Destructive Curse Spell number fifty-four: Haien,” you whispered before a sudden flame began to engulf the metal blade leading the boy to look at your weapon in astonishment at how wild the flames seemed to be due to the amount of cursed energy you had placed within the same blade. “So...why don’t you just burn to death them, would you?” you threatened in a low tone causing the boys to dash behind you before you swung your katana downwards to allow the flames to wildly and uncontrollably burst out in front of the special-grade curse leading to the building behind it to begin slowly extinguishing with the massive flames.

Turning around, you grabbed the fabric of Fushiguro’s and Inuamki’s uniforms (while yelling at Kamo to run) before using your strength as well as a hint of your cursed energy to violently push them forward away from the flames before running towards the same direction with them since this was the perfect opportunity to make a dash for it without any of the boys getting injured or harm in the process.

‘Whoever is responsible for the veil...is going to die..’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi #gojo satoru #inumaki to/ge #zenin maki #kamo noritoshi #iori utahime #jujutsu kaisen mei mei #jjk mei mei #fushiguro megumi imagines #fushiguro megumi imagine #inumaki to/ge imagines #inumaki to/ge imagine #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru imagine #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #inumaki to/ge x reader #to/ge inumaki x reader

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Hey. Can I request bucky barnes x male reader where the reader gets injured on a mission and bucky freaks out about it with the “Oh shit, is it that bad? Am I gonna die?” prompt. And can they already be in a relationship. Thank you

This was a good request, thanks.

That said, why is it harder to write something if there is more information???

This one didn't give me an immediate idea to follow through on, but I think it turned out alright.

Let me know if this wasn't quite what you wanted and I will be happy to have another go.

Stealth Mission

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Word Count: 1611

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

The mission was supposed to be a stealth one. It was meant to be simple, sneak in, steal some information, sneak back out with no-one any the wiser for it.

Funny how the universe likes to laugh at people who make plans.

You roll your eyes at your thoughts as you gather your breath, and your courage. You were pinned behind a series of crates in what was clearly some sort of storage area. The bullets stop flying in your direction for a second. It sounds like the Hydra guys were reloading.

You leap out and unleash a hail of bullets at the men standing by the door. To your unending relief there are only two, both of whom were reloading. Thank God for sloppy trade craft. It takes a depressingly little amount of time to down them after that.

'Two down, one whole compound to go,' you think sarcastically to yourself.

"Hey, anyone out there still?" You put a shaking hand up to your earpiece. You had never been so thankful to hear Steve's voice before.

You tapped your comm to activate it.

"Yeah, I'm in some sort of storage area inside. No idea how many are left outside. Things aren't looking great from here."

You hear Steve sigh into his own comm.

"Y/N, Thank God. Buck would'a killed me if you'd gone down out here."

"Come on Steve, you know that's between me and Barnes."

You smirk to yourself and picture Steve's face at your comment. You don't normally tease the conservative man but it helped to steady your nerves the moment.

"Alright, I'm gonna head out of here, see if I can still salvage this mission. Let me know if anyone else responds."

Caps affirmative is ringing in your ears as you pull yourself back together. You still had a job to do here, there wasn't anything else for it.

You crept closer to the only exit in the room. Your heart was pounding too loud in your ears. This was annoying but adrenaline was running high after you were surprised earlier.

Luckily the hall was empty. It seemed that the other Hydra agents were a bit preoccupied somewhere else.

'Hopefully that means that someone else is still kicking. My bet's on Nat.'

It doesn't take long to find the right room this time. You internally promise yourself to pay more attention to blueprints next time, as you make your way into the room and over to one of the computers.

You were grateful once again that you had started out your illustrious career as a hacker. A few not so minor indiscretions had landed you in some pretty hot water before you hacked into the wrong server and caught shield's attention. Several years and some serious spy training later, here you were.

Your comm crackled as you tapped away at the keys of the computer. You put your hand back up to your comm and listened as Steve relayed that everyone else had checked back in with him.

You breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was still alright.

"Roger that, I'm almost done here, I'll meet back out front--"

You cut off with a gasped cry of pain. You hadn't noticed the person slip in through the broken window while listening to Steve talk. You had completely missed them as they moved over on silent feet. In fact, you only noticed them as they slipped a dagger in between two of your ribs.

Distantly you could hear Steve calling out to you through your comm, but you were just a little distracted by the searing pain in your side.

You could tell immediately that whoever this person was, they didn't want to kill you outright. With how silent they were coming in and how preoccupied you had been, they had had the opportunity to slit your throat. They hadn't, which was pretty telling.

If you didn't get out of here soon you would either end up as a hostage to make the others give themselves up, or you would be tortured for information.

Not great odds then.

Using the opposite side's arm you managed to elbow them in the face. Their nose made the most satisfying crunch as it broke.

You spun and took advantage of their surprise to kick them back toward the broken window. Seeing the best chance at getting out of this situation alive, you didn't hesitate to give them a second harder kick to the chest. They went out flailing for anything to hold onto.

There was a yell and a loud thud as they hit the ground some several floors below.

You held your breath as you limped your way over there. You had to be sure that they weren't still a danger.

Yep, there they were, laid out on the ground, limbs at awkward angles that would be bad if it weren't for the large puddle of blood forming under them.

You let out your breath in a rush.

There was a ringing in your ears that was not great, and the world seemed to be spinning. You stumbled back over to the desk and the computer.

You grabbed the piece of tech that you had been loading the information onto and made your way heavily out of the room.

Something made you look up. You were glad that you did, Steve was coming toward you but there was something wrong with him. He was opening and closing his mouth like he was trying to talk, but nothing was coming out.

You squint at him in confusion, but you didn't have to worry about it for long. The darkness descends just as he reaches you and you know nothing more.

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

Bucky Barnes was not someone who was known for showing a lot of emotions. Not anymore anyway. He was slowly getting better, but it was just too easy to stay emotionally frozen.

He had been that way for literally years, and it had taken meeting one of the agents at shield to really start to shake him out of it. The Y/H/C haired man had quickly wormed his way into Bucky's frozen heart and refused to leave.

Naturally, having grown up in the 1920's and 30's, Bucky had known he shouldn't want this man the way he did. However, he had lived in Brooklyn, arguably the Gay Capital of the World at the time.

The only way he wouldn't have had at least one experience back then was if he was as oblivious as Steve had been.

In any case it hadn't taken him long to know that he had to ask you out. Getting up the courage had been the difficult thing. You had surprised him by showing up earlier the same day with a box and asked to talk to him alone.

You had put the box on his bed and said that you had wanted to ask him out for a while now, and only just gotten up the courage. The box was a gift which was his whether he wanted to go out with you or not.

Bucky had known that that was the best chance he would ever have, but was curious. He had opened the box to find a big fluffy sweater and fluffy reading socks. He had melted. You were literally the best person in the world - sorry Steve.

Bucky was decidedly not emotionless now however.

You had been brought in from your latest mission unconscious, and had to be rushed to the medical wing Tony kept in his huge tower.

(A/N Yes, we are pretending that they are all friends)

Objectively Bucky was sure that you would be fine, but he couldn't help but worry. You had never looked so small, lying there with soot from who knew what on your face and blood covering a large portion of your shield issued clothing.

Bucky was doing his best not to annoy the medical staff while he waited for you to wake up, but it hadn't worked at all. He had been banished from the area until you were awake to deal with him.

So now he was annoying everyone else.

"Shit Steve, is he going to be okay? Is he going to die? Oh God, what if he dies?"

Poor Bucky was in tears and pacing up and down the communal living space as he waited for news.

Even Sam had the good sense not to provoke Bucky right now.

Apparently Natasha didn't get the memo though.

"Barnes. He's a trained agent. This is a part of the job. Grow a pair and wait for news before writing him off entirely. Besides, Y/N's a fighter, he won't give up like this. He knows you're waiting for him. He won't let you down."

Bucky stared at her, shocked. Nat was notoriously few of words. That was practically a monologue from her.

"Good," she nodded, satisfied that she had gotten through to him. "If you can't calm down and wait for news like a normal person, why don't you go find Clint and stuff him into a vent to find out what's going on in real time."

With that Natasha floated over to the couch and flipped the TV onto her latest binge show.

Steve watched as Bucky stood in shock for a minute longer, before bolting out of the room, most likely in search of their team archer.

"That was mean. He's not even going to be able to explain what he wants properly with how out of it he is right now."

Nat looked over her shoulder at Steve with a smirk.

"Just a little revenge that I owed Clint."

#Bucky Barnes x male reader #Bucky barnes #male reader #Stealth Mission #James Barnes x male reader

[twst-bs]

TWST Vice Dorm Leaders and a Stressed-out MC

I couldn't leave out the Vice Dorm Leaders! I'm just used to working in chunks of seven because of my Obey Me! writing. I'll do a piece for all of the other characters as well!

Note: I wrote most of these to be ambiguous, but Ortho's in meant to be read as platonic. I just wanted to give the little dude some love.

-----

Trey: "Do you not like it?"

They only just barely managed to catch their fork before it clattered against the plate. With everything going through their head at a mile a minute, they had completely forgotten what they were supposed to be doing.

“No! I mean, yes, I like it!” they stumbled over their words, pasting a hopefully-convincing grin on their face.

“Really?” Trey fixed them with a knowing look and they felt themselves wither beneath it. “Because you only took one bite before staring off into middle distance.”

“Oh,” their grin turned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Something on your mind?” he asked, taking a seat on the stool across from them. “You’re awfully quiet.”

Damn it, they had really hoped Trey wouldn’t figure them out. Or at least take more than ten minutes.

The pressure had been mounting lately. Trying to stay on top of impossible classes, watching over Grimm, the ever-looming problem of them not being able to go back to their own world and the moral dilemma of if they even wanted to go back...they had a lot of things on their mind, and they didn’t even know where to start.

This was supposed to be a light-hearted little night in. Trey had found a new recipe he wanted to try out, and they were always willing to be the taste-tester. But, of course, good old anxiety had decided to drop in and ruin the fun, and the cute date night had turned south before it had even really begun.

“Hey, easy,” Trey’s voice cut through the fog that was slowly descending over their brain. “I know that face. Will talking about it help or hurt?”

“...I don’t know,” they mumbled, setting their fork down. “I’m sorry, Trey, I -”

“Nope.” he reached across the kitchen island and gently slipped his hand beneath theirs. They squeezed it back, letting him run his thumb over their knuckles as they tried to fight down the panic that threatened to burst from within. “No apologies are necessary. Take your time.”

“But I ruined our date,” they sighed, shoulders slumping. “Just because I couldn’t get out of my own head for a few hours.”

“Riddle couldn’t get out of his own head for almost two decades, and I’m still friends with him.” Trey chuckled. “Your mental well-being is more important than a silly date night. You can talk to me about anything, any time, anywhere, and I won’t be angry with you, promise.”

“...Can I still have the cake?”

“Yes, you can still have the cake.”

Ruggie: It had been another long night.

Sleepless nights were a pretty common occurrence for the Ramshackle Prefect, unfortunately. Even if they were dead tired at the end of the day, they often tossed and turned the whole night, managing maybe a few hours of sleep at best. Which often led to days like this.

They could barely keep their eyes open, even as they walked to their next class. They were on autopilot, going through their daily motions. The books in their bag felt like they might as well be boulders, and the thought of climbing the stairs made them want to cry. Their legs felt like lead.

“Gotcha!”

They definitely didn’t scream when a pair of lithe arms wrapped around their middle. No way, you have no proof.

“Sheesh, herbivore, you’re loud.” Ruggie snickered, hooking his chin over their shoulder. “You could wake the dead like that. Is that how you wake up the ghosts in your dorm?”

“Ruggie, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Your fault for not payin’ attention!” He gave them a fond squeeze around the middle before letting them go. “I’ve been walkin’ behind you since you left your class. You wouldn’t survive a day in the Savannah, walkin’ around with your head in the clouds like that.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, instead of stalking me like a creep?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ruggie cackled. However, his snarky grin dropped from his face when he got a good look at them. “Hey, you aren’t lookin’ so good.”

“Didn’t sleep very well,” they shrugged, readjusting the strap on their bag so it wasn’t digging into their shoulder. Ruggie scowled, eyes narrowing.

“Again?”

They stuck their tongue out at him. “It’s not like I do it on purpose.”

The hyena stared at them for a little bit longer before sighing. “I guess it can’t be helped. Come on.” he grabbed their wrist, tugging them in the opposite direction of their next class.

“Hey, where are we going?”

“Back to Ramshackle,” Ruggie said lightly.

“Oh, but you scold Leona when he skips?” they poked him in the side with their free hand, and he squirmed away.

“Leona doesn’t need three afternoon naps,” the hyena sniggered. “You look like you could use a coma.”

Jade: “Thank you again for helping out.”

Their arms felt like jelly. Their legs were about ready to fall off. Their face hurt from having to put on a fake smile for the past few hours.

“No problem!” they said brightly. The fake smile could last a few more minutes. “I guess Floyd can’t give you guys more notice when he decides to skip his shift, huh?”

“No, Floyd does what he wants, when he wants.” Jade chuckled lightly, wiping his hands on the towel draped over his arm. Friday nights at the lounge were always busy, so of course that was when Floyd decided he didn’t want to work. Mostro Lounge didn’t have that many options, so Jade had called and asked them if they would mind helping out.

Honestly, they should have said no. They were tired, they had a lot of homework to do, and they honestly just needed a night to themselves for once. But, the thought of letting someone down triggered a deep and primal fear in them, and before they even really knew what they were doing, they had agreed. And here they were.

“...would you like?”

They had to stop themselves from physically shaking themselves out of their trance. “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Jade raised an eyebrow, but politely decided not to comment. “One of the rules at the Lounge is that those who work that day get a free meal after their shift. I asked what you would like.”

“Oh! Um, I’m fine, really, I wouldn’t want to -” their stomach chose that moment to disagree, grumbling loudly in protest of not being fed. How long had it been since lunch? Had they even eaten lunch?

“Both I and your stomach insist, it seems.” Jade pulled out his waiter’s pad. “You’ve earned a meal for your hard work.”

“But -”

“You aren’t troubling anyone.” Jade cut in, seemingly more in tune with their thoughts than they were. “And I wouldn’t have been angry with you if you had turned down my request for help.”

“How did you -”

“Now, what would you like to eat?”

The two of them stood at an impasse for a moment.

“...the tomato basil bisque and grilled cheese sounded good.”

Jamil: “You’re going to chop your fingers off.”

They almost hit the ceiling when Jamil’s hand covered their own. They hadn’t even realized their hands had been shaking until his warm palm steadied theirs.Gently, carefully, he brought the knife down onto the vegetables they were chopping in a nice, clean cut.

“You don’t have to help if you aren’t feeling well.” Jamil took the knife from their hands, setting it down on the cutting board. Kalim had spontaneously announced another one of Scarabia’s famous parties, and of course that left most of the prep work to Jamil. Although Kalim was at least handling the decorations this time. Baby steps.

When they heard the news a few days prior, they had offered to help, and Jamil had practically deflated with relief. Every time Kalim held a party at the dorm, Jamil felt like a zombie for at least the next day and a half. They had personally seen him take a basketball to the face because he had been so tired. Although that might have been Floyd messing with him.

But, of course, when they woke up the day of the party, something had felt off. Nothing in particular had caused them to feel strange, but it could have been a bunch of little things. Regardless of the cause, it was a day best spent alone, dealing with the random anxiety. But, they had made a promise, and even though they wanted to back out, said anxiety also wouldn’t let them for fear of inconveniencing someone even a little bit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” they grinned, shaking their wrist out. “Just spent a bit too long working on Trein’s homework. I’m pretty sure you get better grades if you write long paragraphs.”

“The trick is to make them long and unnecessarily fancy,” Jamil’s lips quirked upwards as he hip-checked them out of the way. “And don’t think you can distract me.”

“Damn it.”

Jamil shook his head. “Don’t push yourself so hard.”

“Pot meet kettle, Jamil.”

“I’m serious.” he leveled them with a steely look that had them feeling like a child getting scolded. “Honestly, with all of the stuff you do for everyone, I’m surprised you haven’t cracked yet.”

“...Me too, honestly.”

“See? Give yourself a break every once in a while.”

“Only if you do, too, Mr. I-Don’t-Need-Any-Help.”

His stern look softened until he was smiling fondly at them, warmth in his eyes. “Deal.”

Rook: “Non, non, this is unacceptable.”

They had heard Rook’s footsteps as he approached, which meant he wanted them to notice him. Otherwise he would have been completely silent.

Hand still on the spine of the book they were attempting to ease out of the tightly-packed library shelves, they turned to look at him. “What’s unacceptable?”

“The hunch to your shoulders, mon bijou.” the hunter swept dramatically into the light. “The sallowness of your skin. The shadows beneath your eyes!”

“Rook…”

“You look very tired, my dear.” Rook dropped his usual flamboyant act, approaching them with concern shining in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Just…” after a moment, they turned to him and rapped their knuckles lightly against their head. “A lot going on up here, you know?”

“I do,” Rook nodded. “You have many things to be worrying about, don’t you?.”

He stepped forward, grasping both of their hands in his. They were trembling lightly, since when had that started?

“You know I pride myself in being a protector of all things beautiful,” Rook gave their hands a squeeze. “And seeing your beautiful heart burdened so...it is my duty to ease it’s weight. So please, if there is anything I can do to help, tell me.”

Ortho: “Sorry for bothering you like this, Ortho.”

The little robot-boy smiled. “It’s no problem! I’m glad to help! Something as simple as a body scan is no trouble.”

The two of them were sat in the Ignihyde lounge. It was late enough that most of the dorm members had holed themselves up in their rooms - Ignihyde wasn’t known for its social butterflies, after all. But Ortho had still been up and about when the Ramshackle Prefect came knocking.

The infirmary closed around 5pm, although there was a nurse on-call for emergencies. So when something was wrong with a student, but not necessarily life threatening, they went to NRC’s resident robot. Ortho could scan for most problems in seconds, and more than once the nurses had asked to borrow him.

The little scanner on his chest opened up. The blue light swept over the Prefect’s body for a few seconds before Ortho beeped and the light disappeared.

“Heart rate: 102. No physical cause detected.” he reported. “It looks like you’re a little bit stressed.”

“...Yeah, that tracks.” they sighed. “I guess there’s nothing you can do for general anxiety, huh?”

“I don’t think so.” Ortho shrugged, looking sad. “I’m sorry, I wish I could help more.”

“It’s okay!” the Prefect smiled. “You did help! I was worried I was sick or something.”

Ortho still didn’t look satisfied. “But...ah!” he hit his fist against his palm. They could practically see the lightbulb go off in his head. Actually, they were a little surprised Idia had not installed that feature yet. “There is one thing I can do.”

“What’s that?”

The Prefect made a soft “oof” sound as Ortho darted forward and wrapped his arms around them. He was a little cold, being made of metal, but the thought was there.

“Internet research says that sometimes a hug can make people feel better. Does it work? I hope it works.”

They felt like they were going to cry. Or explode. Or both. “Yeah, I think it works.”

Lilia: “You don’t need to look so stressed, you know.”

Lilia laughed when the Ramshackle Prefect jumped, fangs poking out. “You’ve wound yourself so tightly, I wonder if you’ll break.”

To be fair, the Diasomnia lounge could be quite intimidating. It often took first years a few solid months to be comfortable in it. So Lilia wasn’t surprised that the human was ill at ease sitting there as Lilia served the two of them tea.

“That old story about being trapped in the Fae world if you eat their food isn’t true, you know.” Lilia sat down on the couch opposite of them, taking a sip of his tea. “At least, not that I’m aware of.”

The human squirmed slightly, and Lilia sighed. “Go on, drink. This is the type of tea I used to give to Malleus when he couldn’t sleep.”

The image of a baby Malleus being soothed by Lilia was so ridiculously cute that it brought a smile to their face. Lilia hummed happily in response.

“There’s the smile I was looking for.” he set his cup down. “Now, what brings you here so late? Nightmares again?”

“...Yeah…” they sighed, the tension in their body falling away like someone had cut the strings of a marionette. “I just wish they would stop so I could sleep.”

“Do you want to talk about them?” Lilia asked.

“It’s the same one, it’s always the same one.” they groaned, reaching for the tea cup. It smelled of chamomile and lavender, a perfect sleeping concoction. “I’m being chased, but I can’t tell by what, and every time I turn a corner the thing gets closer, and - and -”

“Hush, don’t work yourself up.” he moved from his spot on the couch to sit next to them. “Take a drink, there’s a good child.”

They took a sip of tea, focusing on the feeling of warmth down their throat as a way to ground themselves to the present. “I’m sorry.”

“You needn’t apologize,” Lilia murmured, reaching up to pet their hair. “Drink your tea, now, and I’ll make sure you get some sleep.”

#twisted wonderland #disney's twisted wonderland #twst trey #twst ruggie #twst jade #twst jamil #twst rook #twst ortho #twst lilia

[purplerose244]

My thoughts on Seabound!!! 🌊🌊🌊 (1/4)

SPOILERS ALERT!!!

Finally Nya's season! Our queen, our water goddess, our amazing girl gets what she deserves! 😍😍😍

What I know about the season beforehand is that Nya's powers apparently are getting problematic for some reasons? Which is a pretty common topic in other shows but it's a first in Ninjago, usually the elemental powers don't have focus and I LOVE that we now get to see stuff like that 💕💕💕

I know there should be Wojira involved, trusting The Island to deliver that little foreshadowing at the end of the episode 🤷‍♀️ Also Maya is back... MAYA IS FINALLY BACK AFTER SEVEN SEASONS YES!!! 😭😭😭

I have nothing else to say, I have no idea what this will bring, hopefully something as good as Master of the Mountain! 🖤

Alright, here we go!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

Warning reader, I might be fangirling to an extreme because I love mah girl Nya and I've been wanting Kai and Nya's parents to be back ever since Hands of Time ended. So yeah... screaming alert 😅

At this point I don't doubt that the intro is great, we reached such a level of animation and we got The Fold 😍😍 Love the marine vibe and how it's similar to The Island, because it's a great intro 👌

NOW I like the writing! Maybe they rushed the dialogue's quality for The Island to get here? It's just fun and in character, maybe it's just me but I'm enjoying it a lot for now

How many episodes are in this? Wiki says ten, then I checked again and it's sixteen like with Master of Mountain... eh, it looks good so far so it's fine whatever happens 🤷‍♀️

A BIG SPLASH

Oohhh, new villain! One that uses... flames... huh, does she know there's literally a master of fire in the ninja team? Eh whatever she looks cute, give it up for Miss Demeanor!! 👏👏

Wait... OMG IS THAT ERIN MATTHEWS??? WE GOT MACY!! ❤❤❤

Whoa, we're finding out where did the order of the vengestone from season 13 come from?? YAS! CONTINUITY!

Yep, there it is, Nya lost control... her attacks look so cool 😍

Lol that kid trying to be a nindroid and Zane being offended 😂😂 Sorry hun, you're that popular

Aaahhh, thank you Ninjago! You gave me back Nya the perfectionist 😂 I was worried her reaction to her powers wasn't going to be in character but it looks fair so far. Brings me back to Possession, my favorite season 💙💙💙

WE GOT BACK THE FACT THAT SHE CAN MAKE IT RAIN!!! YAS!!! I might be easy to please but I love these details 🤩

🤯🤯🤯 Okay they are definitely going somewhere this time and I LOVE IT, because wow. WOW. Are we actually addressing the forever questioned fact that wind and water weren't elements that Chen needed at the Tournament? Are we giving a reason for them to exist outside the main set of elements and the elemental masters?? Duuuude, season 15 don't let me stop you, keep going 😍

Mm, so water and wind are connected to Wojira (now I see the connection with the special). Are we setting the ground for a new master of wind? 😏😏 It's risky going for a Morro replacement but it's a super intriguing idea! Oooor Edgy Boy TM might come back? WHO KNOWS I'M CURIOUS ANYWAY 🤩

Love how it is universal knowledge that Nya is super indipendent 👌

YES YES FINALLY WE'RE TALKING ABOUT MAYA!!! 😍😍😍 Is it too much hoping into a Ray cameo as well?? Pleaaaase? Also addressing Krux after so many seasons, this feels exciting!! 😊

This is what I'm talking about, training, fighting scenes, show me everything that water goddess can do! 🌊🌊🌊

Aaahhh, Nya flexing her mightiness through anger, just to remind us that she is the descendant of a water master as much as of a fire master 😅

YES YES YES YES IT'S HAPPENING FINALLY AFTER SEVEN SEASON THE FIRE WATER PARENTS ARE FINALLY BACK!!! 🔥🌊🔥🌊🔥🌊 I'M SO HAPPY I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG!!! 😭

RAY IS THERE TOO HECK YES!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 I shouldn't get this excited at only the first episode... WHO CARES RAY IS BAAAAACK!!! ❤❤❤

Omg Maya is definitely different from what I expected, turns out Kai's enthusiasm came from her 😂

Oh look at my flame babe 😍

He's so happy his parents are here, he's a total family man ❤❤❤

Nya is maaaaad... 😅

THERE SHE IS

WELCOME BACK JILLIAN I MISSED YOU 💚💚💚 Would it be too much having a "Your voice sounds familiar" moment with Maya and Lloyd? 😂

I'm so stoked for this! I want all the interactions I've missed for all of this time, asap!! HECK yes!! 😍😍😍😍

Oh, are we looking over the Miss Demeanor, vengestone situation? Mm... for now at least... WHO CARES FIRE WATER PARENTS!! 🔥🌊🔥🌊🔥🌊

THE CALL OF THE DEEP

Imma just slow clap for The Fold because this is another amazing intro, one of those things in this show that stays awesome no matter what happens 👍👍

So Maya gave Nya her discipline and perfectionism, but not the passion behind it 😂 I like this, it's not your conventional master of water, although I'd say it's different from the impression she gave me back in HoT. Maybe this is how she is when she's not trapped for fifty years? 😅😅

Is it too much asking for Kai and Ray bonding while the water women get the work done? 😅😅

Is this the sequel of Green Eggs and Ham?

Green Pancakes and Ham? 😂

Oh it's seaweed nevermind... at breakfast? I'm all for sushi rolls but this is a little 😅 Although since Maya missed their childhood she probably never cooked meals for them... how did I get myself sad 😢

Whoa, Maya is a strict teacher! I got flashbacks from my first and only dance lesson, teachers nitpicking every single pose, uuurrrggg I feel ya waterlily 😡

Again, not a fan of Misako, but coming from her the whole speech about wanting to be there for her child makes a lot of sense

Yes. YES.

YEEEEESSSS KAI AND RAY FAMILY BONDING THIS IS EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED I'M GETTING ALL OF MY WISHES GRANTED FOR THIS ONE ❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤

AND MY FLAME BABE IS SO GLAD HE GOT HIS PARENTS!!! 😭😭😭

Lol with Kai's new hair they look even more related 🤣

Ray also sounds so happy he gets to have his moment with his son 😢 I feel so blessed in this moment 👍

Also this scene makes a lot of sense. Nya grew up to be indipendent, one that succeed in most of stuff without problems, she built her life without any help and doesn't look for it. Kai grew up more insecure, he got some walls up but loves to take care of others and be taken care of. With a childhood lost he looks forward to a bit of softness ❤❤

Did Maya make real bacon for that sandwich? Do I smell some favoritism? 😅 Or maybe she really wants Nya to get onto the water mind setting idk 🤷‍♀️

Little tiny complain, why isn't Jay doing the fixing? Did he give up mechanics completely? It feels like we haven't seen him do tech stuff in so long, I miss techy boy in action 😞

And no, having to check on the bathroom doesn't count 😅

Aww robot date 💜🤍💜🤍

AAAHH ROBOT DISASTER 😱😱😱 ZANE DANG IT YOU WERE DOING SO GOOD NOT TRYING TO DIE IN THE LAST TWO SEASONS!!

Oh that was weird, weird magic purple wave thingie?

I DID NOT ASK FOR A SEASON WITH A BEST GIRL AT THE EXPENCE OF ANOTHER BEST GIRL PIX DON'T YOU DARE DO THIS TO ME 😱😱😱😱😱

"Well this is troubling." I love this samurai so freaking much 💜💜💜

GUYS THIS IS ONLY THE SECOND EPISODE, I'M A LITTLE SCARED NOW 😢

Okay Nya admitting that something's wrong looking so apologetic, girl you don't need to do that you already own my heart 😭

Alright, I'm guessing this is Wojira's power or something, and they will have to go down below and find out why... just throwing this in, maybe Maya did something? Because she wanted to finally be with her family and needed an excuse? JUST A THEORY WITH NO BASE I REALLY HOPE I'M WRONG!!!

Okay, two episodes and I'm BEYOND engaged, let's keep it up! 😍

UNSINKABLE

Getting an idea how this episode might end already 😂😂

Look, I love best girl Pixal, but I'm kinda sad that she seems to be the only one tinkering at this point. Like, I saw Nya fix little stuff, while Jay dropped engineering altogether, I miss my engineers team 😭

Aww, the guys didn't want to crush Pixal's dream of an unsinkable boat 💜 But honestly yeah, I agree with Cole, this might end badly 😅😅

Thank goodness

I was worried they forgot about Jaya ❤💙❤💙 Jay is such a cutie omg

Nya: Mm, going on a potentially dangerous mission with unstable powers in the heart of my element or... mom's tofu pancakes... *yeets herself over the ship*

I'm making too many screenshots of the Smith family... WHO CARES THEY ARE BACK AND THEY ALL LOOK SO GOOD!!! 😍😍😍😍

Aww Ray wants to play with his son and his friends so CUTE ❤❤❤ Still can't believe they play Prime Empire after everything that went down 😂😂

Whoa whoa whoa, Kai and Cole are sitting this one out? That's actually interesting, I'm pretty sure I saw Cole's scuba suit in the sets though so I didn't expect it... lol it's actually kinda fair that the two that used to be afraid of water aren't going 😂😂

Bet Kai is happy to stay behind because he gets to spend time with his dad 😭

Also studying the fire elementals?? Uhm, yes please?? TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT MY FLAME BABE!!! 😍😍😍😍

I'm sure this one scene...

... made so many lavashippers happy ❤🖤❤🖤 Cole you got Ray's blessing

Ninja team acting cool while Jay is being Jay, it's how it always goes, it's the entire show's description and I absolutely love it 😂 That wink though 💙

PIRATE ZANE IS BACK 😂😂😂 Haven't seen him since Possession, and this time he's not even malfunctioning 👌 Pixal is so done with his dorky boyfriend 😝

Of course Jay already has a ghost butler theory going on 😂

OF COURSE IT'S MAYA 😂😂

To be honest muffins would sold me too 😅 Not sure if she will make them out of tofu again though...

It's actually really interesting that we still haven't met the actual enemies, it does build up excitment! Very curious about these squid guys 👍

Well what do you know, the Unsinkable sank. Who would have thought?

... yeah same, sorry Pix 😅

FIVE THOUSANDS FATHOMS DOWN

Aaaahhh, Nya fixing stuff! That's more like it!! 😍😍

Oww, that one speech, I've been waiting for so long for that! Maya just wants to catch up with her daughter and it's not her fault she was separated from her children, but Nya did everything on her own with Kai. Only fair she isn't seeking for her help right now... still sad 😢

Pff, with this ninja team there's not a moment of privacy 😂😂

Maya cleaning his future son-in-law's laundry what the HECK 😂😂😂 To be fair Jay has a bit of a history of having to change underwears during sea travels 😝

Zane was attached to a battery? When?... are you talking about that one scene in Prime Empire? Cause that's not really a flashback I wanna ha- whoops never mind got the flashback 😱

Maya looks more calm now, I think she's trying to act more reasonable and she's got good points 👍 I know people were a little weirded out by how more cheerful she looks in comparison to Hands of Time, but I think she gets the most serious and rational when time needs. That's actually fascinating of her 🤔

CALLING OUT AN ATTEMPTED MURDER

THIS GIRL IS TOO GORGEOUS MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT 🤩��🤩 Like my gosh that smirk, what the heck Pix 💜💜💜

Okay but Jay looking at Nya until the doors are completely closed?? CAN YOU FEEL MY JAYA HEART BEATING?? ❤💙❤💙

Whoa green gas I thought this was Nya's season 😂

MAYA WHY ARE YOU SAYING THIS STUFF YOU'RE SCARING ME 😱😱😱 I SWEAR LEGO IF YOU BROUGHT BACK WATER MOM JUST TO KILL HER OFF I'M GONNA SUE YOU 😭😭😭

I really REALLY like the atmosphere of the entrante of the temple! Super sealike and ancient! 🌊🌊🌊

Maya: off we go, into the spooky old temple! (Why does it feel like something Kai would say? 😂)

Oh gee, someone sleeping in the deep, who could that be? Coff Wojira coff

Whoa the jellyfishes look pretty lifelike!

HERE HE COMES

WELCOME BACK GILES!!! ONCE AGAIN ON A LEGO SHOW I MISSED YOU SO MUCH YOU AND YOUR GODLIKE VOICE!!! 😍😍😍😍 Gosh he's a villain but he's got Clay's voice, how can I even try to hate him?? 😅

Alright, knocking down my water girls, that is pretty hateful material... BUT CLAAAYYY 💙💙💙

So they need the two amulets to wake up Wojira? Isn't one on the island? Fire dad and son coming to the rescue? WHO KNOWS BUT I'M ENJOYING THIS A LOT SO FAR KEEP GOING SEABOUND 😍😍😍

#ninjago #ninjago season 15 #ninjago spoilers #ninjago seabound #ninjago nya #nya smith #ninjago kai #kai smith #ninjago jay #jay walker #ninjago cole #cole brookstone #ninjago zane #zane julien #ninjago pixal #pixal borg #ninjago maya #maya smith #ninjago ray #ray smith #spoilers #wojira #ninjago misako

[sorry-apsalar]

Frender Drabbles: Fake Dating

“Good news everyone,” the Professor said as he came into the meeting room, “we got a package to deliver. However, the client lives in a weird love temple, only romantic couples and polycules are allowed on the grounds. So who’s up for some fake dating?”

“Ooh, me!” Fry raised his hand high, half standing from his chair. “Me and Leela!” Fake dating often turned into real dating, didn’t it? So this was his chance.

“Absolutely not.” Her tone was flat and indifferent as if she didn’t care enough to even be annoyed. Which, honestly was fair, still stung though.

Fry deflated, sinking back into his seat with a sigh. He shouldn’t have brought it up, huh? That was the only possible answer he could’ve gotten so he shouldn’t have…

“I’ll go with you,” Bender said. “A ‘love temple’ sounds like the kind of place that’d have some pretty interesting holy relics.” His lewd chuckle gave away just what kind of thing he had in mind. Which, now that Fry thought about it, probably so.

But… pretending to be a couple with him would be weird. They were best friends though and thus should be able to fake it convincingly and someone had to do it, right? So… “Uh… all right.”

~

The ‘love temple’ wasn’t like any temple or other place of worship Fry had ever seen before. It was more like a large walled in garden with a fancy gate. Inside was a maze of walkways paved with stones of various colours that glittered slightly in the sunlight. To either side of the paths were manicured walls of plants and flowers of various shapes, sizes, and colours, most of which Fry had also never seen before. They were pretty though and filled the air with a pleasant fragrance. Overall it had a very romantic feel even for someone like him who didn’t normally take much notice of that kind of thing.

Combined with the way his arm was linked with Bender’s as they made their way down the path, following their large horned and clawed guide – which would never not be strange because who would’ve thought an alien species that looked like they could be demons would have a god dedicated to romantic love – made him feel kind of weird. Not a bad kind of weird though just… strange. Perhaps it was even kind of nice.

Unsurprisingly it was Bender who eventually broke the silence. “Is this really all there is? Just plants and flowers.”

“Yes. What were you expecting?” The guide’s voice was gravelly and deep.

“I don’t know, something more interesting than plants.”

“Flowers are nice too though,” Fry chimed in because he actually kind of liked it. It probably wasn’t the kind of place he’d want to spend a lot of time or anything but for an afternoon stroll it was pleasant. “But uh… what happens if someone who isn’t in a romantic relationship steps foot on the grounds?” How much trouble would they be in if their lie was discovered?

“Not much.” They then made a sound that was clearly a word in their native language but brought to mind demons again. “… would be disappointed with you though and would curse you.”

That would’ve been worrying if Fry believed in any deities but thankfully he’d given that up even before getting cryogenically frozen.

“Speaking of curses,” the guide continued after a short pause, “I had heard biologicals dating robots was illegal on Earth.”

Oh! This was the first Fry was hearing about that. Before he could ask about it though…

“Yeah, yeah but the robo-phobes can bite my shiny metal ass. I do who and what I want.”

The guide chuckled. “Well, I wish you and Fry a long life and happiness together. Hopefully your archaic laws will catch up to the modern day soon.”

“Uh… I hope so too.” This may have been Fry’s first time hearing of this law but it was stupid and didn’t make sense. If he wanted to date a robot, be it Bender or anyone else, he can and should be able to and fuck anyone who tried to tell him otherwise.

There wasn’t time for any further conversation after that as they soon reached their destination; the center of the maze where the demon looking alien who ran the place was waiting for their package. It was a quick and easy delivery ending with more well wishes before Fry and Bender were sent on their way.

They didn’t leave for the ship yet though. Bender wanted to stay to “find where they stashed their loot” and Fry didn’t mind hanging around and wasting time before heading home where someone would most likely try to get them to do more work. To do so though they had to continue to pretend to be dating and specifically on a date because this was a popular place to go for a date apparently. Which meant hand holding and that was whole different thing than just walking with arms linked, still not bad though.

Strangest of all though was how everyone else they came across, mostly couples here for worship and/or a date, viewed the two of them as a couple. And apparently many of them knew about the robots not being allowed to date biological law – apparently despite living on Earth, Fry was the only one who somehow hadn’t known – and all of them had something positive to say about Fry and Bender going against that “barbaric law”. Which made Fry feel bad because they weren’t actuallydating. It also made him start to feel a little weird after a while too, though he couldn’t place why exactly. So with no other way he could respond, he always just smiled and thanked them.

Eventually after a couple hours had passed and they’d walked through the whole temple garden maze Bender decided to call his search for stuff to steal quits. “Seriously what kind of holy place doesn’t have anything worth stealing?” he said, letting go of Fry’s hand as they exited the temple grounds, staring back towards where they’d parked the ship.

Fry’s hand suddenly felt empty, leaving him unsure what to do with it for a second or two before stuffing it into his jacket pocket. “Yeah, I guess it is kind of weird, huh? Temples normally have like golden stuff and offerings, right? But uh… the whole ‘god of romance’ thing is pretty strange by itself so I guess that makes sense. … You think we’ll have to deliver another package here later?” There was a handful of places they made semi-regular deliveries to, most of them, alas, weren’t pleasant places.

Beneath the ship now, Bender paused to turn and look at him. “Why? Do you want to?”

“I uh… well, it was kind of nice, don’t you think?”

“No. It was nothing but plants, the stupidest of all the living things. Which is saying something since you humans are known for your stupidity.” He turned away, pressing the button on the ship’s key fob to make the stairs descend.

Wordlessly, Fry followed him up, closing them behind himself. It wasn’t the plants he’d thought nice but the walking arm-in-arm and the handholding and everyone wishing them well in their non-existent romantic relationship. It had been weird but if given a chance he’d be willing to do it again. …

Oh! What was that thought he’d had about fake dating often turning into real dating again? But that wasn’t really happening here just… now that he thought about it, he wouldn’t mind if it did. And… and… ugh.

“You coming meatbag or are you going to just stand there staring at the wall until we get back to Earth?”

Fry jumped a little before turning to face Bender. Shaking it off, jerked back into motion, following Bender towards the cockpit. “Uh… sorry I was just thinking about stuff.” And he had a lot more thinking to do about it because it was Bender. What were the chances he felt the same? Probably low, right? He didn’t like humans and all that. But maybe Fry should ask anyway. Would it make things awkward if he brought it up? Nah, surely they were good enough friends that’d it be fine even if Bender didn’t feel the same, right? So he should definitely ask and see what happened.

As they reached the cockpit, Bender took the pilots seat as usual. Before starting it up though… “You maybe want to go on a real date sometime?”

Fry froze, his hand on the back on his own chair. “Wait, really?” So soon after he’d decided he should ask such a thing himself?

“Yes, really. I don’t care though, you can…”

“Of course!” Fry interrupted. “I was actually just thinking about asking you out on a real date.”

“Oh. … Well, let’s go then.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere is better than that stupid love temple.”

#my writing #futurama #frender #philip j fry #bender bending rodriguez

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Yeeaaah… so this ended up turning out longer than I intended… but it’s a theory I felt like sharing nonetheless. Hopefully tumblr doesn’t eat this & if this is too long or odd to answer… don’t worry, I understand. I just wanted to share while it was in my head, ya know? So: Long Post Warning!

I am not 100% caught up on every chapter yet, but I do have a brief understanding of all the events up til now. So please forgive me if this has been revealed and I just don’t know about it yet.

Bell 🧚🏻 = wind spirit🌬🌪

Salamander (who honestly looks more like a dragon than a salamander so he’s gettin’ the dragon emoji) 🐲 = fire spirit 🔥

Undine 🌊 = water spirit💧

As far as I know, we don’t yet have an inkling of who the earth spirit will be or to whom he will “choose” to contract with.

Tbh, I have a some of feelings about possibilities surrounding the earth spirit…

Bell and Undine are both obviously women and I’m 96.8% sure that Salamander is a boy… but who knows, I also wouldn’t be the least bit freaking surprised if Tabata threw that back in our face and Salamander ends up being a girl like in Shrek (and on that note, I just need to ask, in Shrek 2 when Shrek and Donkey drank the Happily Ever After Potion, it’s described as “"Happily Ever After Potion maximum strength. For you and your true love. Drink of this potion and bliss will be thine, happiness, comfort, and beauty divine.” This stuff turned both Shrek and Fiona human while it turned Donkey into a pure white stallion… am I the only one that still gets peeved we never got an answer on wtf that stuff did to Dragon??? Or how it would’ve affected their dragon donkey hybrid babies??? That’s the only thing that irks me about Shrek 2… okay, whew, now that I’ve gotten that out, back to Black Clover theorizing)

Going by the assumption that Salamander is most likely a boy, it would stand to reason that the earth spirit has a good chance at being male as well like 2 female spirits, 2 male.

Salamander’s inspiration obviously comes from dragon lore, I can’t find one singularly specific mythology reference Tabata would have based Salamader on so I’m guessing Salamander is based on dragon lore.

Bell has, for the most part, 2 inspirations Tabata based her on. The main one being Sylphs have power over the skies and air. They've been delineated to have control over the wind and the clouds, and even have the ability to purify the air and control the weather itself. Sylphs are not officially from a specific type of mythology, but if they were to be categorized they’d qualify as European folklore, same as Undine and Gnome which will be explained a few bullet points later. The second and most obvious (my fav of the 2) inspiration Tabata drew from for her character is Tinkerbell; from the blond hair, green dress, gets pissed when male partner pays attention to any female that isn’t her, yeah no denying she’s based on tinkerbell; my guess is Tabata combined her with Sylphs wind magic because it was Tinkerbell’s pixie dust that Peter, the lost boys, and the Darling children used to be able to fly. “Faith, trust, & a little bit of pixie dust” (Which is even more perfect because, even if he doesn’t show it, there is no one else in the series that has more faith & trust in Asta than Yuno does… Yuno’s infinite faith/trust in Asta both drives their rivalry forward and, by this logic, is one of the very reasons Yuno can sore so high🥰).

Undine is the only spirit character, for now, that is directly based off of a real water spirit in European folklore (again, even though Sylphs technically qualify to be categorized under European mythology, as far as I know, they are not officially categorized as such which is why I say Undine is the only one) - “Undine, also spelled Ondine, is a mythological figure of European tradition, a water nymph who becomes human when she falls in love with a man but is doomed to die if he is unfaithful to her.” Being that Undine is described as being able to take human form when she falls in love with a man *cough cough* Ariel *cough cough* Black Clover’s Undine’s background states that she made a contract with the first queen of the newly formed Heart Kingdom and has thus stayed loyal and made a contract with every Heart Queen since. Maybe she fell in love with the father/brother/husband/male-figure associated with the first queen and since the queen is the predominant ruler of the heart kingdom - Undine made a contract with her to be close to this man while knowing he could/would never be hers… she wouldn’t die if her love is one sided… if her love is unsaid and unrequited then anything this man does with another woman isn’t considered being unfaithful.. and maybe she’s maintained contracts with every Heart Queen since out of sheer devotion, loyalty, and love to that original man whom she took human form for. Or she was in love with the first queen and has made a contract with every queen since out of sheer devotion, loyalty, and love not on just for that first queen but every one of her descendants. Who knows?

Tabata’s mythological references (demonology excluded because that a whole other thing) for the most part mainly circulate around Greek mythology, Norse mythology, and European folklore.

Going based off of Undine (and Sylphs) , there’s a strong possibility that this yet to be named earth spirit will possibly directly based on, even if only slightly, someone of those three categories above.

Greek mythology, I find somewhat unlikely seeing as there’s no official male god of earth in Greek mythology. There are deities that have roles related to the earth yeah… but no god surround the earth itself or the element itself. The closest thing to a god of earth in Greek mythology is Gaea - goddess of earth. Simplify it to god of dirt and still the only result is Demeter goddess of agriculture (which seems similar to Mimosa in some ways but I don’t think she will obtain an earth spirit because I think the earth spirit will have more to do with mineral earth than plants and agriculture). If there is to be any inspiration drawn from Greek mythology in terms of an earth spirit, but even this seems a little unlikely, my guess would be possibly some characteristics from Satyrs seeing as they are the male equivalent of nymphs - what Undine is technically classified as.

Norse mythology seems a bit more, but not by much at first, plausible in terms of gathering reference for an earth spirit. It probably wouldn’t be the Norse God of Earth Jörd because she is still technically a goddess and mother of earth like Gaea. However, Norse mythology does have a deity of rocks - Hrungnir is a jötunn (a type of entity contrasted with gods and other non-human figures, such as dwarfs and elves. The entities are themselves ambiguously defined, variously referred to by several other terms, including risi, thurs and troll). There is also one more Norse aspect that goes along these lines - Dvergar or Norse dwarves are entities in Norse mythology associated with rocks, the earth, deathliness, luck, technology, craft, metal work, wisdom, and greed.

Norse mythologies depictions of both jötunn and dvergar tie into the third category of European folklore’s depiction of earth deities/spirits. In European folklore, Gnome, is a dwarfish, subterranean goblin or earth spirit who guards mines of precious treasures hidden in the earth. He is represented in medieval mythologies as a small, physically deformed (usually hunchbacked) creature resembling a dry, gnarled old man. - this description is similar to that of jötunn/dvergar and also ties into Charmy being revealed as part dwarf which will most likely be explored in a later arc.

Tbh, I picture this guy’s personality being somewhere between Grumpy from Snow White, the grumpy but well-meaning and wisecrack Lorax, and Phil from Disney’s rendition of Hercules… (not only does imagining this type of personality have me laughing… imagining the 2 most whom I find most likely to be chosen by this earth spirit… imagining them being partnered up with this personality has me near cackling😂)

As for the 2 whom most likely might be the “chosen one” of this earth spirit?

Even though he is technically described as being Arcane in terms of his magical attribute, Mercury is by definition “a naturally-occurring chemical element found in rock in the earth's crust, including in deposits of coal.” So mercury is naturally occurring, derived from earth, and the fact that it can come from deposits of coal ties in perfectly to the hypothesis of this earth spirit/deity being along the lines of dwarves which (not JUST in Snow White) are heavily associated with miners in various mythologies and folklores. So even though technically classified as being arcane, I do think Nozel has a strong possibility of being chosen by the spirit of earth (+ it would make for an EVEN MORE epic rivalry between Nozel and Fuegoleon if they both have an elemental spirit) (++ based off of how dwarves are depicted in mythology and based on how I decribed how I think this guy’s personality will be, I can see this guy as wise/rational but also getting grumpy/irritated easily with a short fuse and just imagine him getting irritated and kicking Nozel in the shins when when he doesn’t communicate his feelings properly & almost always kicks Solid/Nebra/Augustus in the shins when he says something he shouldn’t have - omg this guy’ll be a hoot!!🤣)

The second possible “chosen one” of this earth spirit could be Sol. Not only is she 100% raw earth magic but I also feel like it would balance her out a bit having a male spirit attached to her and that’s where the wisdom side of the Lorax/Phil could kick in and help her not only improve as a mage but also as a person helping her not see things so one sided. You notice, even though the Blue Rose Knights are an all girl squad… Sol is the only one that goes to that much of a degree in despising men; everyone else on the squad detests men on the surface but for the most part not truly. Charlotte keeps up the façade of detesting men to both appear strong for her squad ladies but also to mask her own insecurities. Sol, while she has gotten a little better since her initial introduction, is the only one who barely tolerates men… the only one who’s depicted as not having a façade and genuinely detests all men with a few exceptions. Having a male spirit like character who does not take her BS (*shin kick💥*) but also offers her wisdom and guidance that helps her grow as a person would be phenomenal for her character overall.

I find Nozel to be the more interesting outcome (NO! not just because I’m a Nozel simp… who told you that? They lie) but either of these characters would be interesting and could improve drastically in character development and as a mage having someone like this joined at the hip.

What are your thoughts?

– Grimoire_Girl📚

OKay, okay *takes a moment* (Also: did I just stop what I was doing, just to read and reply to this? .... Maybe)

I'd like to platonically kiss you on the mouth (with your consent ofc, because consent is a big thing on this blog), because I love this. Okay the Fue simp in me was hoping to have more of him, but in the end I didn't even mind. And can I just say that I love, lovelovelove the idea of Nozel getting the Elemental Spirit of Earth.

The theory is made *so* *much* *better* by the mental image of him (supposedly 'him') being a Lorax/Phil (from now on, let's call him Phorax). Because can you just imagine this duo?! Nozel, our lovely tsun-tsun who is in need of a big, warm hug and therapy. (Like Nozel, sweetie, I know that there aren't many therapists around, but you need to talk to someone.)

I'm also thinking that since it's probable that there'll be the 2-2 divide between boy/girl spirits, because I kinda agree with you on Sal being a boy (I'm aware of Shrek 2, but unfortunately I have no answers, but I laughed *so hard* while reading that), if there'll be a divide between the Spirit forms that have wings. Because I can't see the Earth Spirit giving a flying Spirit Dive form.

I mean, what, everyone else, aka the rest 3 spirit owners can rise to the skies and then Nozel is left behind like a plucked chicken? (I'm so, so sorry for that comparison, but ain't no one leaving him behind! Nozel. Needs. To. Be. Included.) I don't think that's fair. So, it could very well be that the two else give a "grounded" Spirit form, and Bell and Undine give a flying form.

Aaaanyways... I do like your theory/thoughts on how Undine came to be. And I could very well see that to be canon.

I, honestly, have nothing further to add at this point. Because this is brilliant. I love this.

But Tabata please, give us a tiny bit more lore. Please? A pretty please

#grimoire girl #black clover theories #lovely people #this is gold #I'll be thinking about this all day

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH10

And we’re back to our regularly scheduled mischief. Kind of. I’ve tweaked this part a little bit to suit what’s coming up in a few chapters. The middle of this story looks a lot different than before, and I’ve spent the most time on it (been stuck at the “halfway” point of this rewrite for 3 months, but we’re getting there) All of our characters are about to go on their own journeys. For better or worse ;)

Previous     First     Next     AO3

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Chapter 10: Kids in the Dark

“Hey, Nino, got a second?” Adrien asked the following morning as their classmates shuffled into the courtyard.

Nino perked up, draping an arm over his shoulders. “Sure thing, dude. It’s been a while since we’ve had some guy time. I’ve just been super busy helping Alya with her deputy duties. I miss you, bro.”

“You mean Lila’s class representative duties?” Adrien corrected.

“Well…Lila’s busy doing more important stuff, so Alya has been picking up some of the slack, and I’ve been helping her out,” he said. “Besides, Marinette used to flake on some of her stuff too when she was busy.”

Adrien suppressed a sigh. Things were worse than he thought. He should have helped Chloe yesterday. Someone needed to put Lila in her place, but more than that, Marinette deserved justice. Every day Lila found new ways to turn everyone against her even in her absence, and Adrien wasn’t going to sit by anymore.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about Lila,” Adrien said. His stomach tightened into a knot, but he wasn’t chickening out this time. “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair that Alya does all of Lila’s work for her? I mean, we elected Lila to lead the class, but it feels like she hasn’t really done anything herself. Even if Marinette had other stuff to do sometimes, she still did a majority of the work herself.”

“Well, Lila’s doing global stuff that’s way more important than our class. She leads by example,” Nino said.

“Well, if she’s too busy to be class rep, why would she run?” Adrien asked. His methods were a little around the bush, but hopefully he could convince Nino. They were best buds after all.

“Dude, do you want Chloe to be class rep again? You weren’t here when she was in charge, so you have no idea how bad it was. If Lila hadn’t stepped up, we’d have all been stuck with her. Sorry, but nuh-uh, no way am I going through that ever again.” Nino shook his head emphatically.

Given the choice, Adrien had picked Chloe, but now probably wasn’t the best time to admit that. He understood why no one else wanted Chloe in power, and in most cases, he could agree with them. But Lila wasn’t exactly the step up everyone thought she was either.

“Couldn’t someone else who has more time have run? I mean, most of us would prefer anyone over Chloe,” Adrien said pointedly.

“Bro, I get you and Chloe have known each other since you were kids, but I don’t think you fully understand how deep she’s sunk her claws into everyone here,” Nino said. “She digs dirt on people to keep them from defying her, and if that doesn’t work, she just gets her daddy to threaten the teachers. No one else here can overthrow her. Lila is the only one with an outside advantage because she knows celebrities and ambassadors and stuff. She’s got Chloe beat, and that’s why she’s everyone’s hero.”

It was hard to argue with him there. If Chloe were nicer, then this whole process would have been a lot easier. Anyone looked like a saint compared to her, and after yesterday… Lila could gain all the praise in the world because now she was just like them—another one of Chloe’s victims.

As much as he hated to admit it, there was no easy way out here. If he exposed Lila, then Chloe would claw her way back to the top and make everyone miserable again. If he didn’t expose Lila, then she’d just continue to use everyone and drag Marinette’s name through the mud. He’d tried to convince Chloe to be nice once before, but that didn’t last longer than a day. If he could just get Alya to see the light, she could take down both Lila and Chloe…

“I know you and Alya are busy, but is there any way we could all meet up for juice this afternoon? There’s something I want to talk to you both about.”

♪♫♪ Kill Em With Kindness ♪♫♪

“You said you wanted to talk?” Alya crossed her arms over her chest.

The bench along the Seine was abandoned this time of day, which was why Adrien liked it—he didn’t want anyone interrupting. Considering Alya parted ways with her best friend over Lila, she had clearly fallen deep into her web. This conversation required precision, and Adrien wasn’t taking any chances. He was going to speak his mind.

Nino took the seat beside him without a second thought, gesturing for Alya to do the same. She hesitated, searching Adrien’s expression with a skepticism that said she didn’t entirely trust him. This conversation wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Yeah. It’s about Lila…” He clasped his hands together to keep them from fidgeting. “There’s something you should know.”

“Let me guess. She’s a liar?” Alya cocked a brow. “I know you’ve been by to see Marinette several times. I find it funny how you’ve never mentioned this until now.”

“Look, I know I should have come forward sooner, but Lila is a liar. I can prove it,” Adrien said.

“Oh, can you?” Alya barely masked her cynicism.  

“The day she came here, she tried to convince me that she was the descendent of a fox superheroine to impress me, but Ladybug showed up and called her out over your blog post,” Adrien explained. “She and Ladybug had never met before, and truthfully, I don’t think they really even like each other.”

“Can anyone else confirm your story?” Alya asked.

“Marinette can. She was there,” Adrien said.

“Oh, we know that Marinette follows you around.” Alya smirked. “But ya know what I think? I think Marinette is just trying to turn you against Lila because she tried to tell us a similar story before too, but she had no proof.”

“Why would Marinette do that?”

“Trust me, dude, there’s a reason she doesn’t want you hanging around Lila,” Nino said.

Alya elbowed him hard, and when Adrien seemed confused, she rolled her eyes. “Even if you are telling the truth, can you blame me for being a little suspicious? Lila has been here for months, and you’re calling her out on something that happened on her first day? And only after you’ve been hanging out with someone who tried to prove her guilty with the same story?”

“It does seem kinda suspicious.” Nino rubbed the back of his neck with a wince. “Sorry, bro.”

“But I’m telling the truth! That really happened.” When they weren’t convinced, he added, “Okay, fine. You’re right. I shouldn’t have waited so long. I just didn’t want to start trouble.”

“So why start it now?” Alya asked.

“Because people are getting hurt, and I’m tired of looking the other way,” Adrien said.

“What people?”

Adrien bit his tongue. Alya was too defensive. Even if he did point out how Lila was using everyone at school, she’d find a way to justify it just like Nino had earlier. This was Lila’s power—convincing everyone that they enjoyed being manipulated.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I am telling the truth. Marinette isn’t the enemy here,” he said.

Alya took a step back and slung her bag over her shoulder. “I find it a little hard to trust you when you’ve been hanging out with her,” she said. “And after Chloe’s little stunt the other day… don’t tell me you three are working together.”

“No, we’re not.” Adrien held up defensive hands, and when Alya crossed her arms over her chest, he added, “If you don’t believe me that’s fine, but please, look into it. Don’t believe everything Lila tells you. Be a journalist. Investigate.”

Alya eyed him, lips pursed, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll look into your story, but if I don’t find anything, I want you and Marinette to apologize to Lila.”

“Fair enough,” Adrien said.

“Come on, Nino.”

As Alya stalked off, Nino searched Adrien’s expression. His eyes bore all of his confusion, torn between his girlfriend and his best friend. Much like everyone else, Nino wasn’t sure what to believe, but so long as there was doubt, Adrien couldn’t lose hope.

“Nino!”

“Catch you later, bro,” Nino said.

“Yeah. Later.”

♪♫♪ Walk Me Home ♪♫♪

“I’m so excited that you’re finally coming to my house! You have to sit in my massage chair.” Macy squealed as she and Marinette walked arm in arm.

Eliott trailed behind them, things in their group having gone back to normal after the previous day’s events. Marinette was wrong about him. He had Macy’s back even when she couldn’t see him, and they gave her hope that not all friendships were so fragile. When two people trusted each other, nothing could pull them apart.

“We should invite Martin too. I didn’t do well on our last chemistry exam.” Eliott ran a hand through his hair. “Besides, he seems happier when he’s with us, even if he is quiet.”

“He usually waits for his chauffeur out front. Let’s see if we can catch him.” Macy picked up the pace, but she froze the moment they reached the front entrance. “Oh no.”

“What’s the problem, Martin? You said you would do my homework for the entire year,” Gabrielle snarled. “Were you lying?”

Thomas held Martin by his shirt collar, but his eyes bore a fierce determination even if his hands were shaking.

“I-I don’t want to be your puppet anymore,” Martin said, face blanched and eyes wide.

“He’s standing up for himself,” Marinette gasped.

“Kind of. He’s about to get his butt kicked,” Eliott said, but Marinette was already marching down the steps. “And so are we.”

“Gabrielle,” Marinette called.

“Oh, look, little miss thinks-she’s-all-that is back to save her pet hamster.” Gabrielle stepped between Marinette and Thomas. “This doesn’t concern you, street rat, so why don’t you run along back to the sewers?”

“Not until you let my friend go,” Marinette said, undeterred despite how Gabrielle towered over her.

“And just what are you going to do to stop us? You’re as tiny as a mouse, and there’s no one around to save you now.” Gabrielle leaned into her face.

“She’s got us,” Eliott said. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Macy squared her shoulders beside him.

“Two more cowards? I’m shaking.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “You think you’re all high and mighty because you won a design contest and got some free tickets? Please, I could ruin your whole life with one phone call.”

“So, do it,” Marinette said. “You talk big, so let’s see you follow through. Make the call.”

“Uh, Marinette, is this such a good-” Eliott held out a hand, but Gabrielle’s glare silenced him.

“Don’t tempt me!”

“Are you going to ruin my life or not? Because if you’re not, then there’s nothing stopping me from helping Martin.” Marinette nodded to him, still dangling in Thomas’ grasp.

Gabrielle’s jaw clenched, but before she could reply, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Marinette?” Adrien stood timidly at the base of the stairs, his bodyguard holding open the car door.

Upon seeing him, Gabrielle faltered, jolting away from Marinette as if she’d been shocked. Macy clamped her hands over her mouth to muffle a squeal as several of their schoolmates stopped to stare in awe.

“Adrien? What are you doing here?” Marinette asked as he climbed the stairs to meet her.

“It’s Friday. You said you were going to visit your friend’s house, so I thought we could ride together.” He glanced around at the scene before him. “Is everything alright?”

Marinette turned to Gabrielle, whose eyes burned through her. Their classmates whispered to each other, all seeming to wonder if Gabrielle was going to show out in front of Adrien Agreste, but even she knew better than to tempt the most beloved boy in Paris. Attacking Adrien was effectively social suicide, and Gabrielle wasn’t going to lose her reputation now. She averted her gaze, red hair flipping over her shoulder as she spun around to face her boyfriend.

“Nothing. We were just leaving,” she grumbled, and her group disbanded.

Thomas set Martin down on his feet before following Gabrielle to their limo.

“Friends of yours?” Adrien cocked a brow.

“Not exactly.” She turned to Martin. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” Martin straightened his glasses. “You must think I’m weak.”

“Not at all. I thought it was very brave of you to stand up for yourself,” Marinette assured him.

“Sorry you had to save me again. I wish I had the strength to defend you too.” Martin curled his shoulders. “Thank you, Marinette. I promise I’ll try to be stronger next time.”

“You’re already strong where it counts.” She touched his chest. “In here.”

His cheeks flushed, and he glanced up at Adrien, eyes widening again. “You’re-”

“Adrien Agreste!” Macy latched onto his neck with a hysteric giggle.

“Macy, be cool, remember we talked about this?” Marinette coached.

“Let him breathe.” Eliott pried her arms off and extended a hand. “I’m Eliott, and this lunatic is-”

“Macy Chanteur!” She broke free of Eliott’s grasp and stuck out a hand for Adrien to kiss. “I have a poster of you on my wall.”

“Oh.” His eyebrows raised.

“She’ll calm down,” Eliott said. “I think.”

“It’s cool. I’m used to it,” Adrien chuckled. “But please don’t treat me like a celebrity. Any friends of Marinette’s are friends of mine.”

“Adrien just called me a friend!” Macy squeaked, and Eliott placed his hands on her shoulders to restrain her.

“My name’s Martin. Martin Michel.”

Adrien turned to the small boy and smiled. “Nice to meet all of you.”

“We were actually about to go to Macy’s to talk about my designs for you-know-who if you want to come, Martin.” Marinette offered.

“Uh, sure.” He nodded.

“I hope it’s alright that Marinette invited me, Macy,” Adrien said. “We only just met, and I’d hate to intrude.”  

“You can come over whenever you want, Adrien.” She tried to boop his nose with her finger, but Eliott swatted her hand away.

“Great. We can take my car.” Adrien gestured to his bodyguard standing dutifully on the sidewalk.

“I’m going to ride in his limo!” Macy wheezed.

“Try not to hyperventilate.” Eliott guided her down the steps.

Adrien fell into step beside Marinette. “Your new school is huge,” he remarked.

“Yeah, if it wasn’t for Macy and Eliott, I would totally get lost,” she said.

“They seem nice.”

Marinette’s gaze softened on them as Eliott seated himself and Martin between Macy and Adrien. “They are.”

“So, what was all that on the stairs?” Adrien asked as Macy gave the driver her address.

“Gabrielle,” everyone collectively moaned.

“The Chloe Bourgeois of the school,” Marinette explained, and Adrien nodded in understanding. “She’s got more bite and brute strength, but ultimately, I sense that she has less power.”

“That was incredible how you called her bluff,” Macy said. She seemed to have regained some of her composure, though she still stole frequent glances at Adrien when she thought no one was looking.

“When you deal with the daughter of the mayor of Paris, you get used to empty threats and power pulls.” Marinette shrugged.

“I was sure we were going to get our butts kicked. It’s funny, I usually avoid trouble, but the past couple days have felt good,” Eliott said thoughtfully. “You’ve helped all of us become a little more confident, Marinette.”

“I just don’t like to see my friends get pushed around, that’s all.” Marinette insisted.

“Isn’t her modesty adorable?” Eliott said to Adrien.

“Marinette deserves every ounce of praise, I know it.” He agreed. “She’s amazing.”

Marinette’s cheeks burned. Adrien praised her a lot, but she was just as unprepared for it each time. Macy wasn’t the only one on the verge of passing out in the car. Was it possible to die of happiness?

“Speaking of amazing, we need all of the details about Clara.” Macy leaned across Eliott.

“Clara?” Martin cocked a brow.

“Nightingale. She’s asked Marinette to design for her!” Macy reminded him. “Oh, it was so tempting to throw that in Gabrielle’s face. I don’t know how you resisted the urge.”

“Well, I want to make sure she likes what I come up with first,” Marinette said. “No sense bragging if she hates everything and asks someone else.”

“How are your designs coming along?” Adrien asked.

“Well, I have a few ideas-”

“Show us!” Macy and Eliott demanded simultaneously.

“Nothing is final yet. I’ve just been playing around,” Marinette said as they pulled into the gates of a large house.

“You should sit in my meditation room. It’s totally tranquil, and it might help you get ideas. Can you imagine? Future-world-famous fashion designer sketching her breakthrough piece in my house!” Macy said as they climbed out, then casting a smile to Adrien added, “Do you think you could design my wedding dress someday?”

“Slow your roll, Macy. You just met,” Eliott chided, tugging her up the front steps ahead of the group.

“Your friends are lively,” Adrien said to Marinette. “I like them.”

“Well, Macy and Eliott have been friends for a long time,” Marinette explained.

“Since they were kids,” Martin added. “Their parents are old friends, and they’ve been in the same class every year.”

“That’s awesome. I hope you and I can be close like that someday.” Adrien smiled at Marinette.

If Adrien said any more nice things to her, she’d have enough butterflies in her stomach to give Scarlet Moth a comeback. Why did he have to be so sweet and handsome, perfect, smart, talent-

“Well…” Macy snapped Marinette out of her trance. She held her arms out and twirled around as her butlers opened the front doors. “Welcome to my home.”

#marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #mdcspr #mdcsp #my writing

[ginjointsintheworld]

The showrunner saying Joy must be worked for and hard earned, and this need to always push a moral lesson (which by the way applies to only a certain character it would seem) doesn't just sit well with me.

Sometimes indeed we must work for the happiness we desire but Joy does not have to be born out of some heart breaking, messy life event or situation. Joy can be easy. Joy should actually be easy (we just tend to make life difficult for ourselves we certain choices). And yes we don't live in a perfect world neither are we perfect people but there must not be a moral lesson to everything. A person's life must not descend into chaos for the person to learn a simple lesson. (And I speaking generally, not just as a Leyren fan)

According to him Max and Helen worked hard and earned their joy so they deserve the bliss they have. That's maybe debatable, but.. Okay. 😂

Even Meredith that always lost someone in her life, equally had many many moments of Joy. I'm not asking for everything to be portrayed as sunshine and roses, but I hope this mindset dies this season. For Real.

It remains to be seen how Lauren in particular earns her joy or learns a great lesson..because what even are nice things.😒

tbh i always try not to take david's interviews too much to heart because the man likes to talk like he's some passive observer instead of uh, the showrunner and essentially god to these little tv sims characters. kinda pretentious but eh, whatever. if you go back to his old interviews about max and helen, he talks about how he lied and played up some dramatics,

I think we’ve all been waiting for this moment for so long and I’ve had to lie about it for so long — all the questions about Max and Sharpe and the love triangle and do they love each other and all this stuff. I can’t tell you guys the truth. I have to wait for Max and Helen to tell everyone. Me ruining the surprise would just be awful.

he doesn't like to give a straight answer about things brewing lol. nevertheless, i agree, it's okay to let characters be happy just to be happy! i'm not a fan of the whole, suffering to earn happiness concept. pain and hardship is not currency 😩 It especially annoyed me as well when he made it out like helen and max have done something to earn it more than the rest of the characters who have all been through their own hell and back. like glad he feels assured enough to be all 'spoiler alert yeah max and helen will face some conflict but they'll be fine and make it through' yeah yeah great but what about everyone else dude? even aside from lauren, iggy went through an eating disorder, getting held hostage at gunpoint by a patient and coming to terms with how his way of practicing medicine was unsustainable for him personally.

but the move to london was what they considered the Big Shake Up for this season so hopefully it's peaceful and happy resolutions for all the other storylines lol.

#teevibess #asks

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Tea Shop Part One - Zuko x female reader series

Imagine being an air acolyte searching for the avatar in Ba Sing Sei and instead finding yourself working beside the dragon of the west and the banished prince of the fire nation, but of course you know them as Mushi and Lee. From the start you and Zuko clash, you hate his angry rude attitude and he hates how often you call him out on his poor behaviour. Your dislike grows until it’s almost unbearable and then his life is suddenly placed in your hands. After that and things change...

Part two here

Part three here

Part four here

(Note, in the readers view Zuko = Lee and Iroh = Mushi but when it’s from Zuko’s or Iroh’s pov they will be Zuko and Iroh. Hope that’s not too confusing!

Prologue: You were descended from air benders and were one of the last air aceloytes in the world. Your family was not in the air nation when the fire nation attacked a century ago, by luck your grandfather was in Omashu. When he heard the news he was devastated but crippled with fear he stayed and hid in the Earth kingdom. He married your grandmother and tried to assimilate into the earth kingdom. Your grandparents were terrified of the fire nation and therefore keeping the air nation traditions alive was not something they were focused on. So by the time you were born only your Uncle Pathik made an effort to keep the air nation traditions alive, even becoming a monk to devote himself to the cause. Your family was under the belief if they kept quiet the fire nation wouldn’t find them but of course they did. The fire nation arrested your family for the suspicion of practicing air bending, despite the fact none of you could actual airbend. The association enough was worth a life long imprisonment and so your family we’re shipped away to the deepest prison known. Your father managed to smuggle you out of the city but he wasn’t so lucky. You were devestated but after your escape headed to the only family you had left, your eccentric uncle’s home at the eastern air temple. You managed to avoid warrants for your arrest with shows of earth bending, a skill inhertited by your grandmother. Fire nation guards couldn’t comprehend someone being an air aceloyte and an earth bender and so the gift saved your life. You finally tracked down your uncle and decided that day to dedicate yourself to the air nation in spite of the fire nation. They’d taken your family but they wouldn’t take your culture. You asked your uncle to teach you all he knew and worked hard to become an air acolyte like your grandfather. It all seemed pointless, you and your uncle against the whole fire nation and then you heard the avatar was back. You made it your mission to find him and help him rebuild the air nation. You told your uncle your plan and he told you to go to Ba Sing Sei, always allusuive, he told you nothing more than you’d find what you needed there and so you set off. You expected to find the avatar quickly but had been there a whole year with no sign of him. You we’re giving up hope you’d ever find him and you’d be stuck working as a waitress in the lower ring forever when two new staff members changed that.  

Your POV

You showed up for your shift at the tea shop to find your boss had finally hired some more staff. You were thrilled and eyed the two newcomers with interest as your boss discussed the basic tasks with them while you ran the tea shop, eventually the tour brought them to you and you were introduced. "This is my main waitress" your boss said to the two men "y/n these are your two new coworkers". You nodded looking them over, the older man smiled at you but the younger one stared at the ground, or more accurately glared. He definitely did not seem pleased to be here. "Nice to meet you" you offered and the old man smiled and told you his name. You looked to the younger one expectantly and the man nudged him. "’I’m Lee" he replied flatly barely glancing at you. “Well welcome” you smiled and Mushi smiled at you but the boy, Lee, didn’t even look at you. “Now on with the tour” your boss cried and you watched Mushi talk to him while Lee sulked. Great your new co-worker was a pouty angry teenager. He’d be fun to work with.  

1 week later

Your prediction was true, you were an easy going person who could usually get along with anyone...expect this new boy. The boy was miserable and moody. He was inconsiderate and obviously didn’t work well in teams. His customer service poor and his tea making skills only just adequate. The fact he was so rude prompted you to mess with him, rude people were fair game as far as you were concerned and so you made sure not to help him. If the waiter couldn’t show common courtesy than neither would you. This resulted in a lot of shared glares and bickering between the two of you. You knew it went against your air nomad roots to pick on people but when the person was a moody rude immature man who never got your name right, surely the monks saw that as an exception right?

You arrived at the tea shop for your afternoon shift and saw Lee was leaving. That was nice. Things between you had gotten worse over the past week and shifts with him were almost unbareable. Being mean didn’t come naturally to you but something about this man made your blood boil. Lee noticed you come into the shop and held out an apron to you. Suprised you went to take it when he dropped it on the floor with a laugh. You rolled your eyes at him and snatched it up off the floor. Lee smirked and you glared. You watched him place his belongings on the counter as he prepared to leave, something you’d told him not to do many times as it wasn’t sanitary and got an idea. A glass of water was also on the counter and you smirked, because your manager was such a cheapskate the counter was made of earth. You flicked your hand and knocked the glass over onto Lee’s stuff. Lee cried out and groaned as it soaked his bag and coat. Lee looked around and caught you smiling. “You....” he started when Mushi appeared “y/n I need three jasmine teas”. You nodded “on it” and grinned at Lee’s angry glare that was glued to you as you walked past him.

Iroh’s POV

Iroh noticed Zuko pouting about something and paused as you left to go make the tea like he’d asked. Zuko was angrily shaking his jacket and Iroh frowned “Lee are you...”. “She! She is the worst! Did you see what she just did to me” Zuko cried holding his bag out to Iroh who frowned. The bag had a tiny wet stain. “Ow yes this is very serious...the sun might not even dry it before you reach home!” Iroh cried. Zuko rolled his eyes “y/n did this! Did you know she’s an earth bender?”. “No but we are in the greatest earth city in the world...it’s not suprising”. “She can’t treat me like that” Zuko carried on ignoring Iroh’s comment “she can’t get away with this, who does she think she is?”. “Hasn’t she told you numerous times not to put your stuff on the counter?”. “She...I don’t know! I don’t listen to her! She’s always telling me how to do stuff like i’m a...”. “New employee?” Iroh asked with a smile and Zuko scoffed. “This is ridiculous i’m sick of this” and he stormed from the tea shop. Iroh laughed and glanced to where you stood serving customers, you’d certainly gotten under his nephew’s skin and it was entertaining if nothing else.

Your POV

When the afternoon rush finally died down you got a chance to chat to Mushi. Thank god he was nothing like his nephew, there was a down side though. Despite not be liked him he loved talking about his nephew and seemed to constantly mention him to you, like today. “Y/n do you think you’d be able to work the late shift with me tomorrow night?" he asked "it was supposed to be Lee’s shift but he has a date". "Really?" you asked more than fairly suprised, "is it that girl who’s always in here?". Mushi nodded "yes!" and you laughed "i knew it! She asked for Lee to serve her even though his waiter skills are awful!". Mushi laughed "love is blind, she’s hopefully seen past his moody exterior to the man he is beneath” Mushi smiled at you but his hint went right over your head. "I can cover his shift" you agreed and Mushi grinned "Thank you y/n!". You told him it was fine and smirked, just the idea of Lee on a date was enough to make you laugh.

2 days later

You probably shouldn’t have offered to work that late shift for Mushi when you were opening in the morning too but you needed the money so you dragged yourself out of bed way earlier than you would’ve liked. The idea of teasing Lee about his date motivating you and when you saw him waiting outside the tea shop you smirked. "Morning" you called loudly making him jump. He swore and you smirked unlocking the door. "It’s your shift?” he complained “why are you always here?". "Because i work here idiot" you said going to roll your eyes before you calmed yourself, Lee wouldn’t ruin your good mood...or stop you teasing him about his night out. "So how was the date?" you asked smirking. Lee didn’t look at you, he didn’t even show he’d so much as heard you. It made him so much harder to annoy when he didn’t respond so you tried again. "Hey i covered for you I expect some payment" you informed him but he just shrugged "i didn’t ask you to cover for me". "Yeah but i was still the person who did so you could run around on a date" you said annoyed. The man always managed to do this, you’d start messing with him and come off angrier than him somehow. Lee only shrugged "not my problem" and you glared. Your good mood was slipping.

All day Lee’s attitude annoyed you more and more. He was in a worse mood than ever and it showed. He was rude to customers, he mixed up orders and refused to correct them, he spoke back to you when you were only trying to help him. So by the end of your shift you were ready to strangle him. When Mushi and another worker showed up to relieve you, a sigh of relief escaped without you even realising. You let all your anger go, prepared to move...and then you turned around and tripped over the rubbish bag you’d asked Lee to take out 3 times. From your crumpled position of the floor you spotted him already ready to leave and your anger flared back up. You marched to him and pressed the bag into him “here”. “Why would I want this?” he asked and you glared “it’s the rubbish you forgot to take out”. “I didn’t forget I just didn’t want to” he shrugged and you twitched. “Wow that’s a great attitude, take it outside now”. “No, you’re not my boss, you can’t tell me what to do”. He opened the back door and sauntered out and you followed him seeing red. You threw the bag at him hitting him on the shoulder and let out an angry groan. “What’s your problem?” you cried. “What’s your problem” Lee replied squaring up to you but you wouldn’t back down. “My problem is you’re an awful waiter and an intolerable human”. “Wow that hurts me so much” Lee said sarcastically and you balled your fists. “What is wrong with you?” you called “nobodies making you work here, if it’s so awful find another job! It’s not my fault you’re miserable all the time so stop acting like it is!" you yelled "you’re mad at the world? Well get in line! Nothing gets better by you acting like a jerk but if you hate it here so much leave!" and you slammed the door in his face.

Later that day

Your day hadn’t gotten much better as it went on but the end was finally in sight. You'd just finished your shift at a nearby restaurant you also worked at when you noticed two men fighting. You frowned but turned the other way. Sure it wasn’t the noble thing to do but you'd learnt to only seek trouble in certain situations and in back alleys at night was not one of those moments. The trouble apparently didn’t want to leave you alone however and you heard sounds telling you the fighting was following you. Suddenly one of them crashed past you, the other following with a sword. You glared and then gaped to see Lee was one of the men fighting. It didn't suprise you he’d be in a street fight but to be fair he seemed to be the one getting attacked. Shocked you watched, impressed by how skilled the two men were. Lee was obviously not a tea maker and according to the other guy he was actually a fire bender.

The man managed to disarm Lee and he smirked. "you’re defence less, you’ll have to firebend to stop me doing this" and swept his sword towards Lee. Lee closed his eyes unable to get out of his grip and just accepted the swing. You couldn't. Call it the airbender roots in you but you wouldn’t watch senseless violence and just do nothing, even for someone as annoying as Lee. "No" you shouted and sent a rock hurtling towards the man. You knocked him off Lee and stepped forwards "leave him alone". "Who’s this your body guard?" the boy asked and you raised an eyebrow "actually i’m a waitress". Lee stood beside you and you both faced the attacker when you heard yelling. Suddenly two Dai Li agents arrived and looked between you and Lee to the boy. "What’s going on here?" they asked and you turned to them. You’d gotten pretty good at maniuplating the authorities in your hidden life so knew how to play the Dai Li. “Officers thank god you’re here! This man attacked me and my friend for no reason, he was going to hurt him so i had to earth bend! I didn’t mean to hurt anyone I swear". "She’s right" a man who’d been watching called and the Dai Li fixed their eyes on the other boy. He tried to resist but they forced him into a cart and it disappeared down the road. "I’m sorry this happened to you" the agent told you and Lee "please go on and enjoy your night". You and Lee nodded and turned to walk away, when you were out of ear shot Lee spoke. "You didn’t have to help me" he started and you rolled your eyes sick of this and started to walk away. "No!" he said catching you up "i didn’t mean it like that, i just meant...after today i figured you hated me". "I don’t hate anyone" you replied "but you come pretty close sometimes". You thought his mouth almost curved into a smile and he nodded. "What were you doing out here?" he asked "and are you in a uniform". "I work at a restaurant near here" you explained. "You have two jobs?". "Three" you said embarassed "rent’s hard". Lee nodded his head down and you were pleased he didn’t give you sympathy. "I’m not you know" he said suddenly and you frowned “what?”. “A firebender...i’m not one" he clarified. "I wouldn’t care if you are" you shrugged and Lee frowned "really i assumed because of your..." and he trailed off. "Because of my what?" you asked turning to face him and Lee paled. He looked to your arm without meaning to and you knew he’d seen the scar that lay there. "i didn’t mean to, your sleeve was pushed up the other day..." he rushed to explain reading your expression "’i’m sorry for mentioning it". You touched your arm self consciously, the place where your burn crisscrossed it and frowned. A fire nation solider had give it you on your trip to the eastern air temple, he was annoyed your earth bending proved you couldn’t be the run away air acolyte and so he burned you as punishment.  "It’s okay" you said after a while "but no it doesn’t change things, i don’t blame all firebenders just because one burnt me". Lee looked shocked at that and you got a feeling he didn’t have that same view about the person who burnt him. "It doesn’t matter to me if you're a fire bender or the earth king himself, we’re all just human". Lee paused suprised to hear you say something so philosophical and nodded. "’I’m sorry, for earlier not this" he said softly "i have been...difficult". "Just difficult?" you asked and he shot you a glare. "Sorry...you were saying?". He sighed and glanced back at you "i’m working on my anger" he told you "i’ll try and be less of a jerk". "I’ll believe it when i see it" you replied but smirked to let him know you were joking.

You walked the rest of the way in silence and reached the tea house quickly. Mushi was cleaning up damage that must’ve been caused by the fight but dropped his broom when he saw Lee. “Z..Lee you’re okay” he cried rushing over “what happened?”. “It was fine, y/n helped me and Jet was arrested”. “You helped him?” Mushi asked smiling between you both and you and Lee rolled your eyes simultaneously. “It was nothing” you said quickly “i’d have done it for anyone”. You thought Lee’s eyes narrowed at that comment and so quickly added “but i’m glad you’re okay”. Lee looked at you suprised but nodded “thanks”. You nodded awkwardly and turned “so i’ll be going home, see you guys tomorrow”. “Bye y/n and thanks again” Mushi called after you.

Zuko and Iroh’s POV

As soon as you were gone Iroh smirked at Zuko “so...the two of you seem to have bonded”. “Don’t” Zuko replied pushing past him. Iroh’s smirk grew as he noticed the slight blush on his nephews cheek, he knew he’d sensed chemistry there. Thank god the two of you finally were realising it too.

____

I made a new Zuko series! I always love how angsty and stroppy season 2 Zuko was so thought I’d write a series around that. Hope you like it!!!

#zuko #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #prince zuko #avatar #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar the last airbender imagine #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #mushi #iroh #atla lee #atla mushi #atla iroh #avatar zuko #atla zuko #avatar mushi #avatar lee #avatar iroh #jet #atla jet #avatar jet #ba sing sei #air nomad #air nation #fire nation #air acolyte #alta zuko #atla imagine #atla zuko imagine

[darkeninganon]

This may be a bit of a confusing chapter, but I was like... not functioning during this whole thing. Still not really functioning. Anyways, Trigger warning: Gream acting like Dream (He gets angry, yells, and throws stuff).

This was an absolute nightmare. Tubbo and Ranboo had returned home, stopped by Puffy's to pick up Gream, only to discover that Gream was gone. Missing! Not in the mansion or the house. He was free to leave...

That was a lie. What with the prison so close to Snowchester, it wasn't safe for Gream to leave. That wasn't even taking into account that no one on the server liked him and would likely try to kill him on sight. This was such a nightmare. Tommy did a sort of groan-scream in an effort to vent his frustrations, but with everyone looking in different directions to find the tiny green ghost, the teen was left alone with his own thoughts. Well, then again, it wasn't just for Gream's safety. It was sort of a revenge for what he did  when he sent Tommy to exile.

Tommy recognized how twisted it was, to get revenge on a ghost with no memory, and that was why he wasn't destroying anything Gream built or being stupidly cruel. Still, he would have to confront the ghost about leaving Snowchester. Especially if he had a shrinking episode while out and about.

"Oi! Pay the toll you-"

"Aw, fuck off man! This is still my hotel!" And just when his day couldn't get any worse, Jack Manifold had spotted Tommy searching the hotel grounds for the tiny ghost. At least Jack didn't know about what happened, hopefully it would stay that way.

"This isn't your hotel! Don't you see the name-"

"Fuck off you-"

And the two descended into arguing, finger pointing and cursing filling the little lobby of the hotel. If Sam Nook was here, Tommy wouldn't have to worry. A thought came to Tommy. He had built this hotel on top of...

"Oh, Jack, you brilliant bastard! See you later!" Tommy ran to the edge of the path, looking down to see a grouping of iron doors. Useless iron doors, but iron doors that lead to the one place none of them had thought about checking. Tommy ignored Jack gloating about how he was smart, or some other nonsense; it didn't matter right now. What did matter was the little green person running into the house.

Tommy jumped down, letting out a squawk as he hit the ground hard, ankle tweaking in protest. Jack was yelling something at him from above, probably to get lost or pay the toll. Tommy ignored him, ducking into the little hole that lead to the most dangerous place on the server: Dream's house.

Gream jumped as he spun to leave, greeted by Tommy's face in the entry tunnel. "Jeeze! Tommy! What the hell?!" Anger flooded Gream. Why was Tommy here? Gream finally felt somewhat safe and Tommy dared to just-

"Well, good to see you too mate. Puffy was right worried about you." Tommy pulled himself into the house, sitting cross-legged in front of the door as he smiled down at Gream. "Tubbo, Ranboo, and I were also pretty spooked. I mean, fuck, just imagine if Sam found you. God that would suck." Tommy rambled to himself, running his hand through his hair. Sure, some of it was a lie, but it was true enough that Tommy didn't want Gream to go back to the prison, that would just break the ghost and then he might return to being like Dream.

Gream stared at Tommy. Did the teen... know? "Wait..." No, Tommy had to know. Puffy once worked with and believed the man with the gold tooth. But to just ask that was... No, Gream would be punished for asking such a question. But surely there was some way to get an answer... "Uh, Tommy, we're friends, right?"

Tommy stiffened, staring at Gream in surprise. "Uh, yeah, I guess... It's a little awkward because, well... I was... was... friends with you... from before." Tommy fidgeted, pulling on the cuff of his sleeve. "It's uh... stirring up some old memories, you know?" Tommy looked at his hands, picking at his cuticles. Why now was Gream doubting him?

"Um, what do you know about... Puffy?"

"Gream." The ghost jolted, looking up at Tommy, who was clearly nervous about something. With a sigh, Tommy continued. "If you have a specific question in mind, just... just ask me, alright mate? I'm not going to blow a fucking... gasket or something. We're cool man, we're cool."

Gream sighed, fiddling with the edge of his mask. "Well, you see, Foolish came by... before."

"Yeah, We were told."

"Let me finish!" Gream watched Tommy flinch slightly, his heart twisting and fluttering at the same time. Weird. "Well, Puffy... She knew where I was and... And... How many people believed him? The man with the gold tooth, he... he spread lies and told people... told them I deserved to be there? Why? What did I do to him? Why was the book so important? How many people... how many people want me dead again?" Gream was bordering on tears now. He didn't want people to hate him, he hadn't done anything wrong. Surely it was just because he shared a mask with the monster Tommy and Tubbo talk about. "Why did my own mom believe him?" Gream curled up on the floor, sniffling and crying. The thought of Puffy, someone he cared about and someonje who cared about him, believing some creepy guy over her own child was twisting his heart too much. He didn't want to think about what he could have even said to get her to believe his lies.

Gream startled as something pet him. Slow and gentle. He uncurled slightly, looking at Tommy who was leaning towards him, hand extended. "Sorry..." Tommy pulled his hand back, looking away from Gream. "I... It's a hard question to answer... Not because I don't know. But because..." Tommy looked back at Gream, cringing. "It's hard to answer because I do know."

"Tell me." Gream stood, rubbing the tears from under his mask.

"Gream, I don't-"

"Tell me Tommy!" The little ghost took a step forward, trying to intimidate Tommy into telling him. Tommy flinched again, raising his hands as if Gream was going to strike him. Gream stopped, taking a step back; "Please, just tell me."

Tommy was silent for several minutes. "Just about... everyone. Including me, Tubbo, and Ranboo." Tommy could just barely see Gream moving back, shock and horror evident in his body language. "That's why... When I saw you as a ghost... I was so shocked. No one was supposed to visit you." Tommy relaxed, going back to messing with the cuff of his sleeve. "We were all turned away... when we tried to visit. I managed to sneak in once. You..." Tommy sucked in a breath, gritting his teeth. "You-"

"Enough. I don't want to hear anymore." Gream turned away from Tommy, covering his ears. Just how powerful was this gold-toothed guy? What did he have over everyone in the server? And what was the damn book-

"You brought Wilbur back to life."

Gream stopped. He... "I did what?" Gream turned to face Tommy, shaking slightly.

Tommy sighed. "The book was... It had the knowledge in it that allowed you to revive people. You never shared it with anyone. Not me, not Tubbo, not Ranboo, not Puffy. The only person you used it on was Wilbur. Possibly because Ghostbur had asked you to, and, well... It may have turned out to be a mistake, but, we'll see what Wilbur is doing eventually." Tommy sighed again, looking at Gream. The little green ghost seemed surprised.

"So... I only used it once?" Gream tilted his head, clearly confused.

"Yeah. And that one time was all the man with the gold tooth needed it seems. God... Had I not used Ghostbur to sneak in-"

"Why were you sneaking in?"

Tommy's mind floundered. What the hell was he going to tell Gream? You know what, fuck it. Tommy might as well tell him the truth. "I... may have been going in there to kill you...?"

"What?!"

"Listen Gream, the guy... he said you did some pretty awful things! Ranboo.. he's got memory problems, and he said you did that. He said you were best friends with the guy who executed Tubbo-"

"Tubbo got executed?!"

"He said you worked with the president of Manburg and were the reason Wilbur blew up Old L'Manburg-"

"Wait, Wilbur blew up-"

"God's sake man, this is just the tip of the iceberg, okay! The- No, you know what, we're done with this. He said you did a lot of really shitty things, and we believed him, because he may or may not have held a position of political power for a long time."

"What?!" Gream began pacing, groaning in agitation. "He had- Oh my GOD that makes so much sense now. FUCK. This sucks so mu-uch. For fuck's sake this sucks!" Gream opened his eyes, moving his hands away from his face. He was normal size now. Well, that was weird, but it helped. With anger, Gream kicked the closest chest he could, knocking it over with the contents spilling out across the floor.

"Gream, shh, you need to be-"

"No, Tommy! I'm not going to be quiet! This sucks! The person who tortured me- who killed me- is running around doing God only knows what, and people will believe him at the drop of a hat because he had political power?! This is bullshit! Manburg isn't even around anymore, neither is L'Manburg, but apparently he's still- ARGH! For fuck's sake!"

Tommy cringed away, hyperventilating as he watched Gream toss a chest across the small space. Tommy felt like he was in exile again, or the cell. Gream was going to...

"The fuck's going on in here?!"

Shit.

Tommy and Gream snapped to see Jack Manifold crawling through the entrance, stopping to stare at the green ghost. The three were silent for what felt like an eternity. And then Jack moved. "SAM!"

"Oh no you don't you fucking-"

"Tommy, let me go, Dream's-"

"Dream's dead! This is Gream! He's nice!"

"Fuck you, let go of my fucking ankle you prick!"

"Jack shut up and listen for once, you can't tell Sam!"

"Fuck you, yes I can!"

"No you fucking can't! Gream hasn't done anything-"

"He's trespassing on my property!"

"It's my hotel, bitch!"

Jack suddenly kicked Tommy, sending the teen sprawling back with a bloody nose. He could faintly hear Gream yelling his name, clearly concerned for what had just happened. A cold hand grabbed Tommy's arm, pulling him to his feet. Jack was gone, and Gream was struggling to keep Tommy upright. Tommy pushed the ghost away. "I'm fine! We need to get you back to Snowchester, now." Tommy grabbed Gream's arm, pulling the ghost towards the little tunnel. Both boys crawled out, climbing up the sheer cliffs to the prime path and running to the tunnel for Snowchester.

Something began following them. No, someone. Tommy looked to see a very angry Sam and Jack using tridents to fly after them. Gream was about to look back, but Tommy grabbed his arm, shoving the ghost in front of him. "Go! Get to Snowchester!"

"Tommy, what's-"

"Don't look, alright?! Just go!" Tommy shoved Gream towards the wall, sending the ghost past it, but Tommy stopped, drawing the sword- Dream's sword- and spinning to face their pursuers. Sam and jack slid to a stop on top of the tunnel, both armed with axes and shields against Tommy.

"Tommy."

"Sam."

The trio stood there in silence, Gream just beyond the walls of Snowchester; just out of reach from people who would put him back in jail.

"I hear Dream was out of Snowchester, Tommy." Sam's voice was dark, heavy. It wasn't the voice of Awesamdude or Sam Nook. It was The Warden.

"Well, you heard wrong. Dream died, Sam. You know that." Tommy pointed the sword towards Sam and Jack, praying that they backed off.

"What the hell do you mean?! He's right behind you!" Jack yelled, pointing incredulously at the ghost.

Tommy's gaze flickered to Jack. He wouldn't win in a fight against both of them. Jack he could maybe win against, but certainly not Sam. "You might want to get your eyes checked out mate. That's my friend Gream. He's a good lad and-" Tommy cut himself off. He almost said it. Almost but not quite.

"And what, Tommy?" Sam tilted his head. Out of the three of them, he seemed the most relaxed. It was more unnerving than if he were on edge.

Tommy took a breath. He had to be calm right now. "And he's not trying to cause problems. But things like that," Tommy tilted his head to the enchanted netherite axes held by the two, "That gets him on edge. He gets scared by those things, you know?"

"Oh, so him yelling and kicking stuff with you cowering was just you two having a bonding moment? Huh? Like exile?"

"Shut up Jack! I may need therapy from that, but I'm sure as hell not going to talk about it with you." Tommy grit his teeth. Of course Jack wouldn't care. No one but Tommy could see how fortunate this was, all anyone else could see was Dream. This was a chance at obtaining true peace, and nobody but Tommy was willing to see that. Well, okay Puffy, Tubbo, and Ranboo probably did see it, at least somewhat. Having your worst enemy be your best friend? What could be a better form of revenge? "Look, Gream is protected by Snowchester, and if you two don't-"

"Knock it off Tommy." Sam stepped forward, swatting the tip of the sword away as he closed the space between him and Tommy. "We all know you wouldn't win. So just hand over the prisoner, and you'll never have to worry about this again. Okay? Dream goes back to prison, you go back to living your normal life, and everyone lives happily, ever, after. Okay?"

A trident slammed into the glass between Sam and Tommy, the teen stumbling back into Snowchester. Ranboo jumped down, pulling the trident from the glass. Snow crunched loudly as more people gathered. Tommy looked around, suddenly surrounded by Technoblade, Philza, and Niki. He caught sight of Puffy and Tubbo climbing up the shore, the sheep woman running to Gream and hugging him. Tubbo's eyes were locked on Ranboo, who, even without a mouth visible, it was easy to tell the half enderman was smiling.

"Sam, you do remember what I said, right?" The little particles buzzed around him, agitation shared. Sam was trying to hurt his family. Sure, Gream wasn't part of that family, but Tommy sure as hell was. A few particles rushed to the other teen, dancing around him, examining him to make sure he was okay.

Sam was silent, eyes locked on Technoblade. Quackity had talked about getting the pig man into the prison, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen any time soon. That sucked.

"You know Sam, generally, when people are as tyrannical as you, it doesn't end well for them. You might want to watch yourself from now on... or, you know, spend some time on that island you have. Heck, you should probably bring Fran with you." Sam snapped his gaze to Ranboo as his only pet came up. "It would be a real shame if something happened to her." Ranboo took a step back as Sam took a step forward, barely controlling his anger. "Or what about Ponk? You still love him right? Or are you two split up after you cut his arm off with shears?"

Murmurs of shock fell through the group, people looking at each other before looking to the creeper hybrid, who was visibly shaking.

"You also took one of his lives. How many does that leave him with? Two? And no totems~. No revive book either. Even if Dream were here, he'd never waste such energy on Ponk. But you already know that~."

"What the hell are you planning?"

Ranboo's smile seemed to widen, face splitting to finally reveal his mouth, like a twisted version of an enderman. "Nothing. Just paying back a favor! Oh, and if you wouldn't mind, tell Quackity that I'd like to talk to him. Maybe he and I can finally work something out with the cookie stand, you know?"

"What? I haven't-"

"Buh-bye now Sam~. Go on, shoo, both of you." Ranboo made a shooing motion with his trident, voice warbling as he spoke. He watched intently as Sam and Jack finally retreated, glaring at him and the group from the safety of the other side of the tunnel.

Gream suddenly smacked him over the head with a stick.

Ranboo opened his eyes to grass beneath his feet and people scolding someone. Scolding Gream. Why were people scolding Gream and asking if he was okay? Why were Jack and Sam glaring at him from across the tunnel? "Uh, guys, what's going on?"

Everyone fell silent, staring at him.

Phil was the first one to speak. "Are you fucking serious mate? Were you sleepwalking that whole time?"

Ranboo nodded. "I guess..."

"Heh? Sleep walking? Hey, wait a second, Ranboo did you call Snowchester your family?"

"Mate, Techno, now is not the time."

"Ranboo, you sleepwalk?" Niki looked between Phil and him, clearly confused. "How long has this been going on?"

Ranboo shook his head. "I'm... Look, I don't want to talk about it- actually I literally can't- but thanks, whoever woke me up?"

"Oh, that was Dream." Phil stated, motioning to the ghost. Gream looked to Puffy, motioning to Ranboo as if that vindicated him somehow. "He whacked you with a stick. Kind of like I did way back when." Phil mused, snickering to himself at the memory. "Wait... how did you know to do that?" The older man asked, turning to Gream.

Gream seemed to straighten up, almost looking proud of himself. "I didn't! I just got the urge to do something and hitting him with a stick made it go away. Well, made it less prominent." Gream turned to Tommy, tilting his head. "Does Ranboo's sleepwalking have to do with his memory issues?"

"Let's not talk about this, okay? Like Phil said, now is not the time. Are you okay Gream?" Ranboo was more than eager to get the attention off of himself. This was like when Dream announced he was traitor all over again.

Gream nodded, pushing Puffy away. "Yeah, sorry for running."

Tommy smiled, walking over to Gream and slapping his hand on the ghost's back. "No worries mate! We just worried about you. What made you run anyways?"

Gream looked at the group, silent. He knew Tommy was hiding things. They all were. It hurt. They were his friends, so why would they lie to him? It didn't make sense! "It's... It's not important." Gream moved away, heading towards the mansion. Maybe Sam would tell him the truth. If only the two could talk without having anyone interrupt.

#Gream #Ghost Dream #mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #Trigger warning #tw abusive behavior #Gream doesn't like seeing Tommy afraid #But he has a VERY hard time controlling his emotions #Again I know this is kind of all over the place #But please forgive me

[pocketramblr]

Many people claim second is either time traveling Bakugou or like fore father or smth because... Well look at him. Whats your take on it?

The worst thing about Tumblr is that the search blog function is so non existent that I can't even be sure you didn't try to see my opinion about this before asking, so I can't even blame you, but... Well:

This was my reaction to people continuing to suggest Bakugo was Second after we learned Yoichi's name

This was my reaction to a "reincarnated second" Bakugo ask

This was me making fun of the time travel theory by explaining that Ponytail Uraraka could actually be Third

And this was a post where I mentioned that I'm basically neutral on Bakugo as a whole because I really like some of his arc and his interactions, especially the remedial course arc, but that I really don't like him involved with the OfA plot line and feel it detracts from both he and Izuku

Ok. Let's go deeper then, and hopefully make this the last post I have to make on this subject.

tldr of the read more: I don't like Second as Bakugo and I actually think that the chances of Second as Bakugo's ancestor went down after the events of this week's chapter

So, I did see a lot of bak-u-go and I finally put my finger on why I hated it so much, (BESIDES the fact that I just do not think Horikoshi has done the set up for time travel in general or Bakugo in particular. Look, izuku should have told us already if Second was Bakugo. It just doesn't make sense for him to be, functionally) and instead of posting it on tumblr and dealing with people actually, like, seeing and reacting to it I just told two friends why I didn't like it thematically in a group chat. The text of my message is pasted bellow:

"So, like, even if Bakugo grows up and yeets back in time and somehow izuku doesn't recognize him with a little face scar which seems VERY UNLIKELY to me EVEN IF, then it COMPELETELY makes First's supposition pointless

the thing WASNT "second extended a hand to someone connected to and hurt by afo and freed first even tho he was nemisis, which is why izuku should extend a hand to tomura"

INSTEAD it was "Baku2 extended a hand to first because he ALREADY KNEW afo's brother was a hero and it would help all might and co and there was ABSOLUTELY NO FAITH, NO GOODWILL, NO OPTIMISTIC COMPASSION involved because baku2 KNEW what would happen and wasn't even really making a CHOICE so much as following the plan"

ahem. anyway thematically it is bad As Well as being functionally bad

is,,, bad theory,,,, i have nine very good Seconds, why would i want no Second and just dealing with bakugo more,,,

So yeah, that's my take on Baku2- it replaces the potential actual character of Second (who is someone I love exploring in many different ways) with a character we already have. And I don't hate the character, but when I'm thinking about OfA Stuff? I don't want him there! I just can't bring myself to care about Bakugo as Second. If I want to have fun with Bakugo, and I sometimes do, I have him go train and develope menteeship with Nejire. I give him some Dadzawa. I have him develop friendships and better himself with the remedial team. Getting rid of a character I like to cast Bakugo in Second's place? The least fun thing I can think of! I just don't want to do it. Have fun, write it yourself, and tag it properly so that I don't have to see it.

Ok. You also mentioned Bakugo as Second's descendent. Honestly, it's possible, but I think it's less likely now. Second has spikey hair but it looks just as much like Dabi's as it does Bakugo's. It's just how Hori draws spikey hair. They don't even have the same style, since Second has an undercut and his hair is shaded darker than Bakugo's. I also don't think that Second is going to have an explosive quirk, because Third just got one! Third's Fa Jin quirk "builds up kinetic energy and use that energy to release an explosive burst of power."

What would be the point of Izuku getting an explosion quirk from Second? It wouldn't make sense with the actual quirk lineage Bakugo has from his parents if they were trying to go that route, and frankly it's just like the Baku2 Problem: I already know how Explosion works! It's not interesting to me! I don't want to miss out on a new fun quirk just to see one I already know again.

I want Second to have a mental quirk, that's my first pick. A lighting quirk would be fine too since I really wanted Sixth to have one but then he got a stealth one so I guess I don't need Second to have a stealth quirk anymore. *Glances at Vaneer.*

Anyway so maybe Third with spikey hair that actually matches Bakugo's color is his ancestor. Maybe Second is. They both have the build of their costumes in a way that reminds of Bakugo's summer and winter hero costumes. Maybe neither of them are. I don't really care that much, because... I don't think Second likes Bakugo. I don't think he liked him at the start, and I don't think he likes him now. I'll quote a friend who actually brought this topic up before I could, and whom I agree with:

Friend: Someone asked me "Okay but what about Second being Bakugou's ancestor?" So, I had to refrain from answering "Well, if you want, but Second would probably be disgusted by Bakugou. He is a guy who sacrificed everything so some asshole with a strong quirk wouldn't do whatever he wants. What do you think he would think of Bakugou?"

Me: you're stronger than me i would have answered that and then gotten a dozen angry messages back like 'uhhhh but but hes CHANGED now if second can 'forgive' a toothpick of a man who never actually did anything to hurt him and was only considered a target because of a relative, aka bc of his genetics, then surely he'd forgive bakugo for uh activlely harming izuku bc of his genetics and openly mocking the past holder's pain, fight, and strength in a meeting he acted too good for!'

So I don't think Second would like Bakugo for those reasons, but also another one- he's naïve. Second didn't like Izuku trying to "save to win" Shigaraki, he thought it was foolish. I don't think he'd like Bakugo's "fight to win" focus either, because to him it wasn't "fight to win." It was "fight to survive" and I don't think that for a single moment he thought he'd 'win' because he was 'a hero' and 'heroes always win and villains always lose and that's why I want to be a hero.' there's a reason he didn't want Bakugo to keep OfA either, and it wasn't just because of a very circumstantial theory some vestiges have based off a sample size of two with absolutely no way to check other variables said that maybe it would kill a holder if they had another quirk.

Has Bakugo grown since those views? Sure. Do I think he's still naïve? Yeah. Do I think Second would see that growth of his, or even care? No. I don't.

I don't think Second hates Bakugo. I just don't think he likes him either. His opinion, I think, probably is similar to my own: "he's a kid who can really grow and be great... And I just don't want him anywhere near OfA buisness."

#it's funny i got an ask on Thursday the twentieth #going 'ugh i hope no one makes this chapter about Bakugo' #and i thought '?? no there's no way? it's dadmight and third right? #anyway. i underestimated the amount some people just want him to spotlighted with OfA i guys #*i guess #i can't relate #i just cannot care about him in that specific plotline i feel like it just makes everything worse #it like. warps the story #but I'm done #I'm done talking about Bakugo in ofa plotlines now ok #ask me something else about him if you want me to care #id love to try to convince you all why Nejire is the superior mentor character for him #and by that i just mean id link to my Hand-Picked chapter where she does just that while they spar together #id love to link you to my fun little piece about him being friends with Mina and Shoto (who should also be good friends but that's a #seperate post) #id love to brag for another week about how i was right on his hero name #I've been using Dynamight for a very long time lol #just. please. don't ask me about this again #i just spent two hours getting all the links and formating this ask. i do not want to spend any more brain energy or emotion on this #i can't bring myself to care enough to anyway #thank you for asking anon. i hope you find someone who can give you content or answers you actually want so you can have fun then #anon #pocket talks to people #ugh i have to tag this as spoilers but. #let's just hope it's not in the main tag #bnha manga spoilers #caps

[ectora]

Review episode 312

It’s weird because I enjoyed the episode but most of my comments are actually criticism so bare with me 😂

Overall it was a nice episode to watch. The acting was on point especially for Sarah and Poppy imo they carried this episode but also probably cause they’re the one with the most compelling stories on this one. The episode kinda felt like a filler but honestly that’s because the show is focusing too much on the allergy and we know that’s not gonna be fixed til the end so as long as they make that the main story of the sisters, most episodes are gonna feel like fillers when it comes to them. Macy and Maggie had their own little adventure with a ghost which was funny (again kudo to Sarah), Harry and Mel went on a quest for a soul tho we still have no clue what it actually meant and Abigael was going through her own little traumatic hell in the tomb (Poppy really has been particularly slaying this storyline acting wise ).

Screen time

Abigael: 6m11s

Macy: 17m24s

Mel: 11m15s

Maggie: 18m24s

Harry: 11m03s

What I liked

Maggie still got the internship and I’m glad back she deserved it. I really don’t dislike Antonio but I’m also glad they kinda made it clear she wasn’t interested and that she finally made progress with her feelings for Jordan.

Abigael. I liked it because it gave us more insight on Abigael’s past (tho I still think they should have given us this earlier). I always theorised that from her childhood, she was obviously scared from the fact her mom never really accepted her demon side which created her deep feeling of rejection and how she was never accepted and never belonged. But I also thought she had some kind of loving family. Like to me these two things were not necessarily contradictory. Well apparently not. Her mom straight out abused her during her childhood. Which definitely explain why she choose the demon side like that. Both her parents were terrible to them but as she said in the past, at least she can understand demon a little but. She can rationalise it base on their nature. When it came from her mom however, it came fully from a place of dislike which must have been very harmful on a child. So obviously when I say I like it I don’t mean I like what her mom did to her, but I really like the insight and explanation. And again, Poppy did an amazing job. She made Abigael feel so vulnerable and scared, and confirmed that, ultimately what Abigael always wanted was acceptance. Which she first needs to give to herself.

Marisol and Macy sharing a scene. I have my issues with how it went which I’ll come to later. But I’m glad it existed and Mads really showed great emotions.

That was a short list because if I did enjoy the episode and there was some highlights I’ll talk about later, I also can’t really pintpoint things I loved.

What I disliked

Harry’s story. I just really don’t like how they make it all about the relationship when it could be so much deeper than that. I also am not sure I like the length to which he’s ready to go for it. Like the entire soul donation is a bit weird to me.

Marisol and Macy. Listen that one made me angry. Maybe it wouldn’t have if Macy actually had other stuff going on than her relationship with Harry but with the way the show has been writing her mostly around her relationship with Harry, it really didn’t come across well to me. The fact we had for the first time a in present tense scene between Macy and Marisol and all they talked about a man has me fuming. Maybe if they had had a longer time to talk. But they had like two minutes and most of it was about men.

The sisters. I don’t like the fact Mel wasn’t there when they were going to connect with their mom. I feel like that should have been a story kept for all three of them. I’m also annoyed that they once again refused to give us some Mel and Macy. I would have liked to see them a bit. Once again that sisterly bond feels like it’s non existent.

Melby. I cannot believe anyone would actually look at them and think yes that’s good. The treatment is absolutely terrible. The buildup was bad - because it was supposed to last - and the fact it’s all off screen is absolutely terrible. Ruby has been in three episode this season. One of them she didn’t actually share a scene with Ruby. The second episode they were full of drama and jealousy and they were so easily breaking up. And suddenly we jump to the I love yous. And were supposed to find that cute ? Like what are we supposed to think they love about each other? The constant breaking ups ? Cause that’s the most consistent thing about them. It kinda feels cheap in the way it’s done ngl.

What doesn’t make sense

Why was Jordan in the description ? I feel they’re kinda trying to avoid putting Abi’s name in the summaries (or at least it feels like it) but like .... Jordan had not reason to even be talked about. He didn’t appear once. It should have been Abi’s name in there.

The pills falling from the pocket Like ... Harry you had literally one job. How exactly did they fall ??

Why did they seem lost until their realised Jordy was a descendant and they could use his soul. Did I miss something saying it needed to be a male descendant ? Cause like ... Gil (Jil ? Idk) was literally right there. (Nevermind apparently I missed them saying « male descendent » my bad dkdjd

How did abi know she was in the tomb. Like I know my girl is smart but like ... she has basically no contact with the sisters at this point so how on earth did she learn how the tomb works and what happens inside ??

Highlights

The hammer. Listen, don’t ask me why but this picture of abi has been sending me for weeks now and I’ve been wondering the context since I’ve seen it. Like it gives me the biggest dumb bitch energy ever. The fact that abi is a very smart person and just thought a hammer would get her out of the tomb just has me laughing like it’s just too funny to me 😭

“The British hot lady” Swan I understand You

The way Maggie calls for Abi and gets into her apartment. I don’t know why I just love it.

Macy trying to lie to Antonio. Macy’s face when she lies is always a delight.

No but do any of these older generations know what not having an affair even mean? But I mean like father like son I guess.

« Who footnotes a spell » Macy’s face was so funny 😭 she was so done with it.

Theories

Not gonna lie. I’m a bit scare about next episode. I think it might be really interesting but also I’m very scare of the execution especially when it comes to Abigael and Macy. I do believe Macy has valid to distrust Abigael. However the show has been terrible at portraying those. And ultimately, especially lately, the sisters and Abigael have barely crossed paths. They’re barely in each other’s lives. All the do is coexist in the same city and interact when demons are involved which isn’t really the case. So right now all abi is doing is keeping the demons in lines. So I’m scared that Macy’s rightful dislike and distrust is almost gonna come across as pettiness or jealousy. But I also think that there is a difference between not trusting Abigael and say she deserves to be in the tomb. Cause at the end of the day past episode 4 what has she really done so terrible that deserves eternal suffering/delusion or whatever the tomb actually does. She’s manipulative and self serving sure but she also helps more than anything. The sisters have actually nothing to win have having Abigael stuck in there. And more to lose.

One theory is that the perfecti are trying to isolate the sisters. Putting abi and Jordan in the tomb is separating them from their allies and helping Harry to lose his powers is taking their guidance/healer away from them.

Another is just that really just have a very strict black and white vision and Abigael being a demon and Jordan helping them makes them automatically in the black category. Which the title seems to be referring to so it’s probably this.

I think the upcoming episode might be a way to introduce the whole controversy around Macy’s demon powers. And slowly bringing up the story of Abigael giving them back to her.

I think it also might be a way to actually have the show approach the wrongs Abigael did in the show. But also the rights. After all, it seems like they’ll need to prove she doesn’t deserve to be in it. Which I personally don’t think she does. Though she definitely did wrong things in her life. So I think they might actually use this as an occasion to have the sisters talk about what she did do that was wrong. And hopefully also highlight that she did help them on multiple occasions.

With the “previously in charmed” it makes it feel like they’re still going with Maggie not knowing Jordan can actually touch her and this doesn’t stop confusing me. But I can see the show have them hug once he’s out of the tomb and then kinda admit their feelings finally and Jordan say something in the lines that he kept it from her because he didn’t want to put pressure on her or that him being able to touch her didn’t change the fact she wanted to focus on herself or something on those lines.

One thing I want to talk about is Abigael. Please don’t read this paragraph if you haven’t heard about the rumours going around. //// The fact is, there is a very strong change Poppy is leaving the show. And the way they made this episode made it very clear Abigael was abused as a child. But that she is also absolutely craving love and acceptance. And that she does love her mom and always wanted her love. I’m very scared that if they make Abigael leave (better than die) they’d make her go back to her sister and family and try to fix their relationship. Which would absolutely be terrible message to give as we literally know now that she was abused. And making a character go back to their abusers because of the trauma it caused (her fear of rejection and inability to actually accept herself) would just be disgusting. But I’m scared that’s the road they’re gonna take.

#charmed #charmed cw #charmed reboot #charmed 2018 #charmed review #abigael caine #mel vera #maggie vera #macy vaughn #harry greenwood #jordan chase