#If you need a reason maybe she like ages a little bit slower due to being a clone or something idk

[petite-phthora]

This yours?

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 12]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

Somewhere else, in a seemingly abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, a figure shrouded in darkness and wearing a dark cloak plots.

In front of them is a whiteboard. It’s covered in pictures, sticky notes, and illegible texts. Some of the notes thrown about that are legible are ‘fight…’, ‘draw blood.’, and ‘DEATH!!!’.

There’s a crude stick figure drawn in the corner of the board, it’s impaled. Other small doodles can also be found all around the board.

Most of the information and pictures are connected by red strings, like you see in movies.

In the middle is a picture of 2 people sitting on a motorcycle, the arms of the person sitting in the back are around the waist of the person sitting in the front. The picture has some arrows pointing towards it and the people in the picture are very obviously circled.

Though the face of the person driving the motorcycle is obscured by their helmet, the other person seems to be heavily blushing and grinning broadly.

“Yes… yes! That’s it! I know what to do…” They seem to be speaking to themselves.

Quickly, the person scribbles down a barely legible ‘sacrifice!!‘.

They start cackling.

“Mwuahaha!”

It’s an evil laugh they’ve been working on for quite a while now, and they’re pretty proud of it.

However, the effect is slightly ruined when a fly enters their mouth, cutting off their cackling with choking as they gasp for air, grasping at their throat.

A few good thumps against their chest, with some coughing out their lungs, helps them dislodge the fly from their throat and they spit it out on the ground. They take a few deep breaths before straightening up again.

“Curse you” the person exclaims, angrily waving their fist at the fly as it flies away.

---

Bruce’s face gives off nothing as he stares at the streets down below. He’s dressed as Batman, crouched at the edge of a building with Damian by his side as Robin. Spoiler, Black Bat, Nightwing, and Red Robin are further back on the rooftop.

They watch in silence as another group of the Joker’s goons passes by. They’ve been all over the city, wandering around, not doing anything obviously illegal.

They don’t stay in one place and they don’t seem to have much of a purpose. No attacks… No stealing… No smuggling or transport of goods… No, instead they’re inspecting every single inch of the city.

They don’t seem to have any weapons on them. All they’re carrying on them are some flashlights. While most don’t give anything away with their body language or expressions, some seem to give off a bit of anxious energy.

Spoiler claimed she even saw some of them climb down into the sewers earlier and then climbing out again sometime later somewhere else, but this time ‘dejected and stinky’.

One thing seems clear to the Bats.

They’re searching for something… or someone.

“This basically confirms that not even the Joker’s henchmen know where he is. He’s missing.”

“I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing”

“Good… thing?”

“It’s… something. That’s for sure.”

“We don’t know if he’s really missing. For all we know it could be a trap. What if the Joker is hiding, pretending to be missing to have us bring our guard down? Besides, how could he be missing? He’s the Joker. No one’s just gonna kidnap him”

“For all we know he could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere”

“I highly doubt that”

“Everyone, focus” Bruce speaks up, having them draw their attention to him.

“It’s unclear whether the Joker is simply hiding away or missing. Instead of focusing on the why, we need to focus on the where. Missing or not, we need to find him and get him back to Arkham. Oracle, have you managed to find out anything from the footage yet?”

“Nope, still nothing. All the files from the moment he enters Crime Alley are wiped and any attempt at recovering them only brings back corrupted files.”

 “We need Red Hood. Where is he?” Bruce asks.

“He still has his phone on silent and he has removed the trackers and cams. We haven’t placed any new ones on him yet”

“Let’s visit him on his turf then. And keep an eye out for anything suspicious in the meantime. Oracle, try recovering the missing files. If that doesn’t work, go back to the breakout footage. Perhaps he left some kind of clues about his plans or whereabouts behind there.” Bruce states.

“Roger that.”

---

Red Hood has his arms by his sides as he gazes down upon the street below from the rooftop of a random apartment building in Crime Alley.

He’s lucky to have avoided the Bats so far. But he doubts his luck will last for long.

Red Hood stiffens as he suddenly feels something clamp down on his arm. As a reflex, his other hand has already drawn his gun.

He slowly raises the arm he felt something clamp down on and looks at it, only to make eye contact with a girl with black hair and blue eyes who has sunk her teeth into his arm and is now hanging off of it.

The teeth are sharp, as the girl seems to have some small fangs. They’ve gone through his jacket and sunken into his skin.

It doesn’t really hurt all that badly though, probably hasn’t even drawn much blood, and that’s one of the only reasons Jason hasn’t flung the kid off of him yet. Another reason is the fact that it’s a kid.

They both stare at each other for several seconds.

As Jason takes her appearance in, he notices that she seems rather familiar. In fact, she looks like a more feminine version of Danny, or if Danny had a twin.

The person hanging off of his arm looks younger than Danny though, probably a teenager around 13 or 14, if he had to make a guess.

Slowly, he puts his gun away and takes out his phone with his other hand, watching the random girl’s eyes follow his movements. He raises it level with her face and snaps a picture, quickly sending it to Danny and ignoring the girl’s curious gaze while she’s still hanging onto his arm by her fucking teeth.

---

Meanwhile, Danny checks his phone to see Red Hood sent him a message. He opens it and is greeted by a picture of Ellie in human form biting down on Red Hood’s arm with the caption ‘this yours???’

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea   @uraniumwizard    @why-must-i-be-like-this   @griffinthing

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #Im wondering how easy/hard it is to guess who the person is #and also yes its supposed to have stereotypically comedic 'evil'/'villain' vibes #the person did that on purpose because they are dramatic and have style #also i aged ellie down a little from how old she *should* be cause i felt like it fit better #If you need a reason maybe she like ages a little bit slower due to being a clone or something idk #oh and i have a question for you all #should i make a masterpost?? #i have like the very first chapter pinned but i feel like a masterpost might be better #especially cause like i already have 12 chapters and the story is only getting longer #damn this story has gone further than expected from a oneshot lol #it all started with me just tinking it'd be funny if like #a character was basically in shock but was still like nah I cant just kiss someone without consent lol #also I said id post like 5-6 chapters and this is still only like 6k :( i really need to write more ;-; #and also if y'all haven't noticed already #all I know of dc is through fanfics and fandom posts #though I really want to start reading the comics #i just haven't really had the time nor do I really know what's good and where to start #so like if anyone has any recommendations for dc/batfam comics they are more than welcome!! ^-^

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

I'm sending you some Chrysta asks because the queen deserves more attention!

1. How did she react to meeting Laddie? Did the boys introduce him as a little brother or one of their sons? Did it spark some baby fever?

2. When did she start using Cherry/Cherri as a nickname? How did it start?

3. How does aging work for her and her babies? I may have missed something with her lore and could use a refresher

4. Does she like aerobic dance classes? 👀

Thank you for the ask Lav 🥺 I'm sorry it took me this long to answer!

Chrysta meeting Laddie?

I'll admit, at first Chrysta was a little surprised to find such a young kid hanging around with a bunch of punk bikers- especially when she asked about his family and soon found out he had none. She was a little unsure and concerned about four boys being caretakers of what was practically an orphan, but after seeing how they treated him and how truly happy he was, she started to warm up to the idea. Sure, they were times where Sue felt the need to step in and be a 'Mama bear' with certain things- but that just made the boys realize all the more she'd be a perfect addition to the coven one day as a care taker for Laddie.

[And yes... Maybe there was a little baby fever here and there whenever she saw how soft and kind Dwayne and Paul were with him.. 👀]

Why is she nicknamed Cherry?

Chrysta got the nickname wayyy before any if the boys even knew her real name! It was a little codename they used if one of them had spotted her on the boardwalk. The name was taken due to the lingering smell of blood and cheap cherry perfume whenever she was nearby. 🤭 She always assumed it was for the reason she wore cherry perfume, accessories, and lipgloss- which she wasn't technically wrong..

How does the aging process work for her and the baby bats?

I actually still need to figure this out myself! 😅 but I think for the Baby Bats they usually don't have any intake from humans until it's their first kill when their either becoming teens from 12-14, or around when the fic takes place and their more 18-19- which would become their first kill and make them immortal. But before that, they'd probably get their blood from animals or their parents [AKA not a human kill] and it would keep down the bloodthirst/hunger enough. But even then they still age just a liiittlle bit slower than one normally would, but after they'd make their kill the full immortality would kick in. [if that makes sense? 😅]

Chrystas thoughts on dance classes?

Oh she LOVES them. I think she'd be at those classes all day spilling gossip and dancing her heart out. She also loves anything that keeps her active, and it's even better if she can use it as a way to spend time with her gal pals!!

#Again thank you for the ask Lav 🥹 #It actually really helped me feel better talking about my girl #cherry rambles #cherry answers #ask #the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #fruitbats🦇🍒

[truehappinessissonear]

im so normal about cxg

ive done a few,,, ig ramblings about this silly show and now i have tumblr so people who get it can see it. also i got in the top 0.05% for cxg for spotify wrapped i think that means i get bitches (real). this was done at like 3am in an airport so. ignore. typos and stuff. ALSO i literally wrote this as it came to mind so. yeah.

so we have Where's the bathroom which is a song about wanting to please a mother that can't really be pleased. "Where's the bathroom" comes from Rachel Bloom cus she said "thsts normally what a mum says to you after you haven't talked in ages". I think it especially applies to Naomi who cares little about Rebecca's happiness instead her own needs or her needs to project the life she wanted onto her daughter. The song is fastpaced and the lyrics change topic constantly to show how exhausting it can be to deal with Naomi. It's like running a fast race. Interesting the one slow part of the song (other than the break where Rebecca physically and lyrically gets to breath) is when Rebecca finally snaps and shouts, this part is slower and goes on for longer as (as Rebecca says) Naomi does anything to rub stuff in her face

maybe I shouldn't do this at 3am I'll leave stuff out

the reprise of "Where's the bathroom" is "There's no bathroom" which is sang by Weird Al (it was kinda an excuse to just let him be in the show) and people say it's random but let me think abkut this. Greg is trying to impress Rebecca. Compared to Nathaniel and Josh he feels like he doesn't stand a chance, due to Natheniels riches and Rebecca's history with Josh. So he buys a hot air balloon, and wears a rainbow tie because he's desperate to impress her similar to how Rebecca was desperate to impress Naomi. This song focuses on the one fact that there's no bathroom on the balloon and thst he'll have to break it to her. I think it's Greg's nervous mind worried thst she's gonna hate it.

But other times a bathroom is important in cxg -Buzzing from the bathroom -Thanksgiving -The club incident -Last episode -Some extent the headphones bathroom incident

quick fire round

Buzzing from the bathroom is Jim finding out he's not been pleasing his wife even though "they use 2 different positions every other Sunday night" and thst he'd not been pleasing her for 15 (I think it's 15) years. it's a ballad as this is a shock to him. he thought thst he'd been pleasing (impressing) her but in fact she never finished once, having to go off to the bathroom to do it herself

Thanksgiving Rebecca did everything to impress Josh and his family. She leaned the language a bit and cooked the food and she was actually impressing them (as for some reason they care about smarts even tho josh has 1 brain cell) valencia had been failing to impress them the entire time and thst caused strain between val and josh which was a win for rebecca as she could impress more. However then she got sick due to the food and ran to the bathroom where she had to sit for ages watching Val and Josh do it. In the end they please and impress eachother so much that they move in together, and Rebecca saw all this from the bathroom, where she started associating toilets with heartbreak

ALSO I FORGOT

the portapotty

The club incident happens after Rebecca tries to impress the 2 people who she cares most about in her life. Paula and Josh. Paula was mad at her due to a whole pregnancy incident and the fact thst Rebecca doesn't really,,, listen to people and often talks over them with her problems. So Rebecca babysits Tommy to get back Paulas friendship. However she gets tangled up because Josh is sick and she's trying to impress him by buying him soup, who he thinks is from his girlfriend. So when Rebecca goes to the club to tell him, and brings Tommy eith her Tommy gets lost and she looks for him with Heather. The two get stuck in the bathroom and watch Josh and Anna special hug/ref. Which they do because Josh is so impressed by Anna and Anna assumes she's gonna be impressed with Josh because he builds up this thing. So once again like Thanksgiving despite Rebecca's countless attempts to impress people, she fails in both ways and instead watches someone get pleased by Josh because of her work.Last episode we see the return of the dream ghost. Rebecca fell asleep on the toilet after drinking Joshs weird juice and is now dreaming about what she's supposed to do with her life. She has to choose between the three men who have been trying to impress her and OK I REALISE I SHOULDVE DONE THIS ONE LAST but she isn't impressed with herself- which she sees in her dreams because no matter what she's unhappy and depressed about her lifeThe the headphone incident is (spoiler( after rebeccas sui attempt her three friends stayed eith her the entire time and even slept outside her room to make sure she was OK. then she goes into a bathroom eith headphones and they all assume in a panic thst she committed suicide with Vals nail clippers. I wanna do a character study on val and this episode is important for it. Basically when she comes out Heather and Paula are like "we were so worried" but Valencias full on sobbing. The whole episode Val had been seen as a sort of performative activist about the whole situation but (I ACTUALLY DID AN ANALYSIS ON THIS SONG LIKE AGES AGO) as seen in this is my movement she does think this is for the best. She just wanted Rebecca, her first female friend to be ok. Val cares for Rebecca so much , in the episode...prior??? 2 episodes before maybe she tries to act like she didn't care. When they were searching she says "she's lucky she's cray because my earrings would've been the first thing to come out" insinuating she was gonna hit her. But would she actually?'- OK gotta stop. myself I was gonna delve into Vals character whoops. Uhm point is they're hard to make Rebecca happy and safe thst they become iverbearing and wantto follow her into the bathroom now the portapotty incident. this is at the taco festival in season 1 episode 4 and its at Greg and Rebecca's date. So Rebecca is trying to convince herself to stay with Greg, to settle for him. (I should've done this before the others( and honestly he's not that impressive at the date (hence the settle for me thing( but he doesn't need to be. They get along well and it's going well and it goes bad for completely unrelated reasons. Rather than be in clean bathroom this time Rebecca's in a portapotty and sings into the mirror (they literally recorded this live in the portapotty as "You can't fake a portapotty noise"-Rachel Bloom)

walking through the airport rn but BASICALLY!! how could I gorget the song Paula's stuck in the bathroom. Context is that Rebecca started being friends with Heather and Val so Paula and Rebecca started drifting and in response Rebecca triest o force a friendship. Then everything crumbles down metaphorically and physically and then Paula is stuck in the bathroom. OK DONE WALKING. Once again Rebecca was desperate to impress someone and this time it harmed them, it causes a big fight.in conclusion in cxgtoilets are a metaphor for wanting to impress someone

#crazy ex girlfriend #rebecca bunch #ramblings #i have autism #ilovecrazyexgirlfriend

[love-ice]

no. 10 tuesday july 12, 2022

i think ive been doing better. i started working, i started waking up early, changing my clothes daily, brushing my teeth every morning, sleeping at a reasonable time. it seems like such a simple task yet it took such a long time to get here. i miss the days where i just laid around and didn’t do shit for days but i like that i feel productive everyday. college was harsh im not gonna lie. i failed my first class ever, my parents weren’t too mad about it surprisingly. i had no focus in class at all but i think working has helped me gain the focus i needed. i stopped smoking as much, i definitely still smoke a lot but for sure less than a couple months back. honestly i really miss school. i miss seeing people my age, seeing people interact, i miss making friends, even though i didnt make many of them. i tend to keep to myself and the people who know me best. i don’t know how to reach out to people and make the most of my life yet here i am. making the most out of life even if i dont want to. maybe weed fucked up my mind a little bit but who cares we only have so much time left to live. 

time has always felt slow to me. yet once that time passes it seems like it went by so fast. we waste so much time just to die. we live just to die and i dont know if i want to even do that first part. everything i have ever done or do seems so useless in the world we live in today. people are dying because of gun violence yet here i am living. people protest the government on a daily basis due to fucked up laws yet here i fucking am. leaning into corporate america. feeding capitalism. i thought that one day, if im still alive, i would make a change. yet it feels like my time is almost up and i havent accomplished shit. i leech of my parents and i continue to be this person i hate. although some times i feel good about myself it isnt often. 

im almost 20 now. in a couple more months im going to be at the age i said i would die at. for some reason i always said im only going to live til my 20s. maybe its true. maybe it isnt. all i know is that i have such a hard time looking into my future. you can ask me “where do you see yourself 10 years from now?” and honestly i dont have a response. because i dont see myself. i see sad people walking over my grave. i dont want them to be sad but i cant make evereyone happy can i. i tried my best but its never going to be enough. i try and i try yet happiness doesn’t last long does it?

its like im walking down the path of life right. i continue and i walk farther and farther. the further i get the slower i become and the harder it is to continue. its like im walking through mud but the mud isnt there. i know im the only one holding myself back and pulling myself back. i fight back but sometimes she stronger. honestly shes stronger than i could ever be. after i graduated high school it was like i became a child again. i needed my parents to guide me yet they didnt do shit before why did i need them now? i couldve moved out of state. i couldve became my own person yet here i am. back at square one. at least thats how it feels. you know i never want kids and i continuously tell people that i dont want them because ive at a life time of children around me already i tell them i will take care of your kids but honestly its because i dont see myself living long enough to have a kid. my friends have even said they dont see me with a kid and i dont know how that makes me feel. is it supposed to mean something when they say that? or is it just a genuine reaction to it all? either way i dont want kids i dont want to burden children with the same brain i have. i definitely picked up the substance abuse stuff from my dad. i got my emotional state from my mom. my brother got the narcism from mom thats for sure. i just really want to be happy one day. not just for a day but i want to stop feeling the way i do now. maybe these thoughts will fade away one day. maybe i just push them too the back. who knows what i will do next. i just want to feel free. 

love, 

ice

#my diary

[giantroboticplatypusbutt218]

Okay so I was looking at the Loonatics Unleashed fandom wiki for no particular reason I swear and I have come across some mildly interesting discoveries about the content of said wiki. I guess this is like... kind of a weird partial wiki review? Is that strange? Under the cut, some spoilers, yadda yadda yadda.

1.  Something I couldn’t stop thinking about after watching the show was the fact that Ace and Lexi have like... no interesting personality. Since the wiki was right there I figured, “Hey, there’s usually a personality section on their character pages, maybe I just didn’t notice something.” So I looked at Ace’s page. 

His personality section is tiny. And what is there is stuff like, “he may have a sweet tooth,” and he’s, “cool, calm, and collected,” three words which basically mean the same thing. 

Next I checked Lexi’s page... which... hilariously... did not even have a personality section. But don’t worry guys! She’s got a section unique to her called, “fashion sense,” which goes into great detail about her not wanting to look fat.

Curious, I checked the other characters pages as well. 

Slam, unlike Lexi, has a personality section, which is incredible, considering he’s on screen for a fraction of the time she is. But Lexi is not alone in having no personality(according to the wiki) as Rev apparently doesn’t have one either. Like, come on. Nobody editing the wiki could think of one trait that he has? Even Slam got a line about having great battle strategy. Nothing about being enthusiastic or fiddling with Tech’s things or desiring his dad’s approval? Uh, okay then. Speaking of Tech... he got one line about being warm hearted and protective of his inventions... Yep. That’s... definitely all his traits... Totally... Ugh... 

Duck has a fully fleshed out personality section, which, makes sense since he has a very well defined personality and most interesting interactions with the rest of the cast. There are still problems with it though, like talking about his powers in the wrong section and another thing I’ll go over later.

2.  Also along the lines of the “Ace is bland” thought I had, his Powers and Abilities section is pathetically short. I mean, he has four tiny bullet points: One is about having great agility which isn’t needed because another point is that he’s skilled at martial arts which requires great agility. There’s his laser vision, and then apparently he has infrared vision? I mean, I’ll believe the wiki this time but I straight up do not remember that. It must have been one of those things that wasn’t brought up much. (Also it didn’t mention his swordsmanship which is strange.)

Most of the other characters’ sections of their abilities are pretty standard, but I have to note that Rev’s section is MASSIVE. One of his listed “abilities” is literally the ability to talk which uh... is strange. It’s noted that he talks fast, but that just seems to be a common trait of roadrunners as far as I can tell. Rip was the strange one for talking at a slower pace. Either way... I guess the ability to speak is an ability. Strange to put it side-by-side next to things like “super speed” and “flight” though...

3.  There is straight up incorrect information and strange assumptions in a few places. A lot of those things come from Rev’s page and specifically his Trivia section. 

Small complaint first, the page mentions the sound the original Roadrunner makes a couple of times and spells it as “meep, meep,” which the actual sound is “beep, beep,” an imitation of a car horn. Pedantic, I know. 

Okay first true complaint, the wiki assumes Rev’s the youngest solely based on the fact that he’s hyper. Uh... he could also be hyper because, and stay with me here, his power is super speed... and also some people are just hyper? IDK. I have to mention he seems like someone that would’ve gone to college given his family’s wealth and history with being engineers, along with his own technical knowledge, making him similar in age to Tech and Lexi. But odds are all members of the team are college aged and none of them are notably older or younger than the others. (Wait the Trivia page mentioned him being hyper but he still didn’t get a personality section with “hyper” in it???)

Another incorrect “fact” in the trivia section is that Rev’s the only character whose family is shown in the show. It was brief, but we saw Duck’s parents in the flashback of him and Pinkster in the orphanage. Yeah they’re just some boring humans but they’re still his parents. 

I guess this counts as a complaint? Uh, maybe I’m missing something, but the wiki claims Duck has sibling relationships with both Ace and Lexi, which... like... I swear I don’t recall from actually watching the show. I do recall him calling Lexi “sister” at least once, but like, in a sassy friend sort of way? And I just... straight up don’t recall him and Ace having any interactions that would denote them as being brother like. Is this just someone deciding that being Good Friends that learn from each other constitutes a sibling relationship again? I’ve seen it happen before. (Don’t ask, it’s stupid.)

Lastly, whoever wrote Lexi’s page seems desperate to ship her with Ace, but like, as professionally as possible. The section on her relationship to Ace is like “their relation is unclear, but she could possibly LooOOoove him~” Then it goes on to scrape for every time she showed concern for him, but also says she keeps her emotions hidden? Guys there’s a word for when someone is in a mutually caring relationship that isn’t a romance. It’s called being friends. Best Friends if it’s a little deeper than normal. Shhh. It’s okay. I know a man and a woman being friends is scary but it can happen. Everything will be fine. 

4.  As I’ve ironically noted a few times already, there are a bunch of redundant pieces of information on some of their pages. Most of the time I think it’s just due to padding. Like, Lexi has 4 bits of trivia and one is, “she likes video games,” and another is, “she’s good at video games.” You uh... couldn’t just make those both one point, huh? I’m not gonna count information being repeated through sections because sometimes context is important. 

-

Yeah so reading the wiki was... something. I mean I don’t blame the wiki of a 2005 Looney Tunes spin off for not being the most well loved and complete, and I’m sure it’s probably been vandalized a few times for lols, but I just thought this stuff was worth noting nonetheless. Mostly it means I can’t entirely trust the wiki when it comes to information regarding the show. 

#Loonatics Unleashed #Random Thoughts #Complaining #I think the P&F wiki spoiled me. It comes with full episode transcripts and references.

[girlsbtrs]

How Countercultures turn Politics into Culture

Written by Lila Danielsen Wong. Graphic by Paula Nicole

In 1969, an academic named Theodore Roszak published “The Making of a Counterculture” and coined the term “counterculture” in order to describe the ant-mainstream youth movements of the 60s. Counterculture’s are not inherently good or progressive, both the punks and the skinheads are countercultures. Counterculture just means, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, a culture with values and mores that run counter to those of established society.

I’m not here to critique these movements. I am not writing this to critique how the Bohemian Romantics won respect for the arts because they mostly came from upper class backgrounds, and I’m not here to discuss the lack of intersectionality in the riot grrl movement. After starting this article I realized I had pitched a whole academic thesis, and maybe bit off a little more than I had intended to chew (why can’t I just pitch a listicle?). So, instead of focusing on the nitty gritty of what prompted these social movements and academically exploring their effects, I want to talk about the “culture” part of counterculture.

Nearly all countercultures are birthed around shared political ideas, but many seem to start within the culture itself, perhaps as a musical movement, a literary movement, a visual art movement, or even a fashion or aesthetic. As the movements expand, they come to encompass more of those aforementioned arts, and thus the politics that prompted the original movement become a culture. 

An early example of a western subculture is the Bohemian Romantics of Europe of the 19th century. In pre-revolutionary France, artists were lower class tradesmen. Artists were seen as dirty and immoral. However, in post-revolutionary France, disillusionment prompted young bourgeois men to reject the typical hierarchy and launch the bohemian artist lifestyle we are more familiar with today. A critical event on this timeline was Victor Hugo’s “Romantic Army,” or his mob of young men that he assembled to protest theatre censorship by absolutely trashing a theatre. The Bohemian lifestyle often manifested as wealthy young artists electing poverty to reject the traditions they were born into, and to spend their time creating art unrestricted. Bohemian fashion was more utilitarian and rustic than the upper-class styles.  The music of the Romantic era is categorized by its vigor and passion, pioneered by Beethoven himself. Beethoven challenged the strict and sometimes formulaic sonatas and symphonies of the past, favoring expression and inventiveness. Thus, prompted by the rejection of bourgeois values and principles, a culture was created: a lifestyle, an aesthetic, a literary movement, a new musical style. 

Nearly 150 years later and 5000 miles away from Bohemian France, the riot grrl movement was brewing in the Northwest United states. The riot grrl movement, created by a group of women working to combat sexism in the western Washington punk scene, was a counterculture within a counterculture. While the Romantic movement originated in literature, the punk movement, and then the riot grrl movement, was born as a musical movement. 

In 1970s Britain, the government was nearly bankrupt and giant cuts to social services were making life hard and creating a sense of alienation between the ruling class and the working class. British Punk emerged from this alienation. The youth used music to communicate their frustrations and anger. The rips and safety pins of punk fashion weren’t originally fashion, the punks just owned ragged clothing. The disillusionment with the political landscape and frustration with older generations resonated with youth all over the world, and it’s not hard to see why a Post-Vietnam and Watergate America would embrace the Punk movement with open arms. However, where British Punk was rooted in working class frustrations, American Punk took root with the middle-class suburban crowd, who, similar to the Bohemians, choose to reject the comfortable life they were born into. A notable difference that this created in the music was British punk had more pointed and explicit politically leftist lyrics, whereas this was not the focus of American punk lyrics. 

This is especially important to understand when talking about the riot grrl movement because they put the politics in American Punk lyrics. In the early 1990s, a group of women from the Olympia, Washington punk scene had a meeting to address the sexism they faced in Punk. They started writing lyrics centered around the sexism and misogyny they face in Punk and in life. They created their own literature through zines when they could not get coverage. They wore clothing specifically intended to look like what respectable women weren’t supposed to wear. Again, we watch a group of people turn their politics into a culture, as a way to spread and practice their ideologies. 

If you want a modern example of turning politics into culture via a counterculture, look no further than cottagecore (yes, really).

       As I said at the beginning, countercultures don’t need to be radically progresive to be countercultures. Cottagecore dwells on romanticized pastoral ideals of a fantastic yesteryear that never really existed. Cottagecore gained some traction on TikTok as an “aesthetic,” made up of imagery such as women in long button up dresses flouncing through fields and making picnics. Absent were the rise and grind aspirations of pre-pandemic America. Absent were any signs of the labor often associated with pastoral living. It is no surprise that a counterculture that emphasizes solitary retreat, rest, nature, and crafting blew up during the first year of the covid-19 pandemic during which many experienced forced solitary retreats, a change in work environments (not to mention the want to not work), and boredom that could only be remedied with solitary activities such as crafting and enjoying nature. The pandemic dismantled all of the systems of normal life as we knew it, and cottagecore invited us to grow from this space, perhaps embracing a simpler, slower life. This political message was so subtly delivered through our social media scrolling that if you weren’t paying attention, you might not have even realized cottagecore had political ideals at all. 

The rise of cottagecore is important in the conversation of how countercultures turn politics into culture because it showcases very blatantly how countercultures are not created, or at least do not catch on, without need and reason. Taylor Swift most likely did not create her surprise albums Folklore and Evermore (the unofficial cottagecore soundtrack) solely to cater to the cottagecore TikTok crowd, she created these albums as a form of personal escapism from how her own life was turned upside down by the pandemic, as a form of connection with her fans who were also experiencing the effects of the pandemic on their lives, and as art that represented certain feelings that came along with the pandemic. 

Her albums came about for the same reason that cottagecore really caught on in the first place: it was what some people felt that they needed due to the circumstances of the time. It was for this reason, I would argue, that Folklore won album of the year. It was indicative of the times. 

So, countercultures are born from a need. From this need comes politics, be it post revolution anti-bourgeois sentiments, mid-century British leftism, or a quiet call to slow down and reject hustle culture for a simple life. From politics comes art, and from art, culture. 

Let’s talk about this in terms of an up-and-coming counterculture, hyperpop. 

       Though Wikipedia currently defines hyperpop as a “micro genre,” hyperpop’s rise is looking anything but “micro.” Hyperpop is described in The Spectator as “catchy synthpop or bubblegum bass tune with elements of EDM and typically a focus on either queer culture or Internet futurism”. The term “self-referential lyrics” is often thrown around. In the least complicated words possible, hyperpop uses it’s sounds and lyrics to make a camped-up parody of popular music. Hyperpop pioneers that have some mainstream following include SOPHIE, Charli xcx, and Caroline Polechek. Hyperpop often uses carbonated synth sounds and vocal modulation, and many of the trailblazers are part of the LGBT community. 

What will hyper pop fashion and literature look like? What are hyper pop’s politics?

As for politics, there is something inherently political about queer artists carving out a space for themselves in pop music. Orange Magazine describes this as “pushing pop music to its limits and satirizing the gendered music industry. There’s an enjoyable sense of irony and juxtaposition.” 

       As for fashion, if we’re following the patterns we’ve established, hyperpop might bring gender non-conforming fashion that satirizes what’s been proclaimed normal. In terms of literature perhaps a Hyperpop literary movement will come from the controversial direction of Alt Lit, a community of minimalist writers that use the internet form and often reject intellectualized creative writing, create things that are weird for the sake of being weird, and use all caps and other purposeful spelling and grammar mistakes. A hyperpop literary movement might share the “self-referential” themes of hyperpop movement, while examining gender, sexuality, and personal identity in the internet age, seeing as the need to examine these themes in music indicates a need to examine these themes in other art forms. Maybe it will find creative ways to use internet platforms, as Alt Lit originators such as Steve Roggenbuck, a YouTube poet (well, a poet depending on who you ask), already have. 

What I find most exciting about hyperpop is that it has the potential to create a culture guided by music first, similar to the punks or to disco. Fashion and visual art and literature all inspired by the glittery new sounds created in music. Maybe hyperpop will stay a “microgenre,” but maybe we will get to witness the rise of something new. 

SOPHIE once said “I think all pop music should be about who can make the loudest, brightest thing. That, to me, is an interesting challenge, musically and artistically… just as valid as who can be the most raw emotionally,” and isn’t that a phenomenal thing to bring with us into a pent-up, fed-up, thoroughly exhausted, and newly vaccinated decade? 

 Sources

https://monoskop.org/images/b/b4/Roszak_Theodore_The_Making_of_a_Counter_Culture.pdf

https://www.sfgate.com/books/article/When-the-counterculture-counted-2835958.php

https://www.classicfm.com/discover-music/periods-genres/romantic/

https://www.mtholyoke.edu/courses/rschwart/hist255/bohem/tlaboheme.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Punk_subculture

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Riot_grrrl

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodore_Roszak_(scholar)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bohemianism

https://www.nme.com/blogs/nme-blogs/brief-history-riot-grrrl-space-reclaiming-90s-punk-movement-2542166

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/05/03/arts/music/riot-grrrl-playlist.html

https://www.nypl.org/blog/2013/06/19/riot-grrrl-movement

https://www.nypl.org/blog/2013/06/19/riot-grrrl-movement

https://wildezine.com/3528/opinion/a-brief-history-of-punk/

file:///C:/Users/8lila/Downloads/history_initiates_vol_iv_april_2016_01_brooks_alison.pdf

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2021/03/hyperpop/617795/

https://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/pop/9595799/hyperpop-history-mainstream-crossover/

https://www.stuyspec.com/ae/hyperpop-the-defining-genre-of-the-digital-age

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyperpop

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YRl4Kdnl2E&list=LL&index=4

https://theface.com/music/sophie-behind-the-boards-pop-scottish-producer

https://orangemag.co/orangeblog/2020/10/15/exploring-the-trans-roots-of-hyperpop

https://thebluenib.com/the-rise-and-fall-of-alt-lit-by-ada-wofford/

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/pc-music-are-for-real-a-g-cook-and-sophie-talk-twisted-pop-58119/

#lila danielsen wong

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic (Ch. 5)

Ch. 5: The Right Thing

First two chapters

Previous (Ch. 4)

The afternoon was better described as crisp than frosty. Signs that spring was approaching appeared in the cloudless sky and dissolving frost. The sun sat high up in the sky, indicative of the slowly lengthening days. Amy would have insisted on taking the scenic route to reach Tails’ lab, but feared the tape holding Metal Sonic’s foot in place wouldn’t hold up in the sloshing snow. Flying up the hill appeared to be the safest option.

The pair repeated yesterday’s maneuver of having Amy attach herself to Metal’s back. This time, however, there was the added challenge of navigating as the cold wind stung her eyes. The windchill they experienced in the significantly colder air blew through the lighter coat she’d chosen to wear due to the lack of frost. Amy began shivering.

Less than a minute later, she could begin to feel the warmth building up in Metal’s body again. He also slowed down to walking speed in the air to allow her to open her eyes. Metal’s back felt toasty against her and she could feel her tense shoulders relax a bit. She sighed in relief. “Hey, are you doing this on purpose?” she wondered aloud.

Metal sort of shrugged his shoulder, not wanting to disturb Amy’s grip around his neck. It did take a bit more energy and the warming feature was probably reserved for times much more frigid than this, but the trip was short. After all, she had given him some comfort, so why not return the favor?

“Well, thanks.” Amy leaned her head over his back, resting a cheek on his satin-clad shoulder to get a better look at the landscape. They were far higher off the ground that was necessary by the time she noticed. “Head down there,” she pointed. They descended much slower this time, and by the time they landed near the entrance, it had taken longer than if they’d just walked. The view as they approached, however, trumped that of even her regular scenic route. 

Amy and Metal walked toward the entrance, but the door swung wide open before she could get near the doorbell. “What are you doing?” Tails peeked his head out the door to take a nervous look around. “Get inside.”

Amy scoffed. “Nice to see you, too.”

The door slammed shut behind them automatically. Tails was already most of the way down the hall when he took a sharp turn into a door to the left. 

What’s eating him? Amy followed the boy with Metal Sonic limping close behind. They turned into his sprawling laboratory, where Tails stood behind a series of screens. “Tails? You alright?”

He looked up from his command center nervously. “Did anyone see you?”

“How should I know?”

“Amy, if anyone finds out-”

“What, Tails? They’re gonna reprimand me?” she rolled her eyes.

Tails grumbled. He didn’t want to say too much in front of Metal Sonic for fear of jogging its memory. But what if Eggman had spotted them? Surely he must be looking for his weapon by now. And if anyone else on the team had seen the two of them flying around it could have been mistaken for another hostage situation. Tails pointed directly at the robot. “Go sit on that table over there.”

Amy followed Metal as he sat on the cold bench. It looked like an operating table, surrounded by a tangled web of wires and machinery. She was nervous for him. Amy trusted that Tails would know what to do but worried that his fear of Metal Sonic would cloud his intentions. 

Tails mashed the keys on his computer aggressively with his one functioning hand. “Amy, I need you to come over here.”

She looked back at her steely companion. Amy flashed a smile and placed her hand briefly on Metal’s shoulder. “You’ll be fixed in no time,” she reassured before joining Tails behind his small command center.

A few keystrokes later, a sheer green forcefield appeared like a bubble around the table, encapsulating Metal Sonic and several of the nearby machines inside. He looked up at the glowing shield curiously. 

Amy gasped at the sudden appearance of it. “Tails, what’s the shield for?”

“So he can't hear us, or get out.” He turned to his teammate with a huff. “Have you thought this plan out at all? How do you think Sonic is gonna react when he finds out?”

Amy shuffled on her feet nervously. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But look, Cream and I spent some time with him-”

“You got Cream involved?” Tails was raising his voice indignantly.

“She came over and saw him, okay! And it went fine. It’s like they became friends.”

Tails scoffed harshly. “Look, Amy, I know you always want to see the good in everything, but this is dangerous. Even if we get that thing on our side, who’s to say Eggman won’t just capture Metal Sonic and reprogram it again? He’s done it before.”

“We’ll just have to leave a lasting impression, then,” Amy responded matter-of-factly. 

“You can’t be serious…”

“I am! Look, we don’t have to reprogram Metal, he can learn this stuff on his own.” Amy reasoned. “He has real emotions and stuff. I don’t know how to explain it.” She looked through the glowing bubble and met eyes with Metal, who was looking to her inquisitively. He held his severed arm out, turning his head. Amy waved back with a kind smile. “He just needs some friends. I think he’s capable of being good.”

Tails watched their interaction with fascination. It was almost upsetting to see Metal Sonic sitting innocently in his lab after all the strife and injury his team had suffered at the robot’s hands over the years. He looked down at his own broken wrist, ears drooping. “So your plan is to just become roommates with that thing? After everything that’s happened?”

“Look, he needs to decide for himself what he wants. You have to restore his memory.”

Tails glared back at her. “You want him to remember? 

“It doesn’t count if we force him.” Amy gazed at Tails wet eyes, a soft pout spread across her lips. “Wouldn’t you want a second chance?” 

Tails could feel his face becoming hot. “And what if I refuse?”

“Tails, you’re the smartest person I know. You could deactivate Metal if he became a real threat.” Amy’s sweet eyes narrowed.  “But if you don’t help me with this, I’ll find someone who will.”

She could be convincing when she wanted to be- or maybe “manipulative” was the better word. Tails more than understood that Amy was capable of putting herself in harm’s way if she thought it was the right thing to do. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to fix. It could be weeks.” He hesitantly clicked some keys and the forcefield fell away. “I’ll do it, but we have to tell the team. We couldn’t keep it a secret, anyway.”

Amy nodded in agreement. “Thank you. It’ll work, you’ll see.” She turned and jogged back over to Metal, who was irately chiming something at her. “Sorry! Just had to take care of some business first. Relax, we’re gonna fix you now.”

Tails couldn’t believe how nonchalant Amy was being about everything. Metal Sonic had probably caused her the most tauma out of the team, having kidnapped her at a young age. But for however fierce she could be, Amy was pure and forgiving in nature. Tails always thought that was admirable- if a little stupid. He took a deep breath in preparation for what he was about to embark on. 

The boy awkwardly approached Metal Sonic, walking past him to pull some wires from a nearby machine. “So, I guess we’re gonna fix you and try to get your memory back.” He remembered what Amy said about being friendly and struggled to say something polite. “Nice-uh- jacket? Wait, isn’t that Amy’s?”

“It’s Metal’s now. He looks better in it,” she smiled.

“Right. ‘He.’” Tails turned to address Metal Sonic directly. “I’m gonna fix you, but I also want to copy your memory so I can figure out how to restore it. We have to turn you off for that. Understand?”

Metal Sonic looked to Amy for guidance. She seemed to know the boy well, but Metal was unsure that Tails was comfortable repairing him. The boy seemed hesitant. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. If anyone can fix you, it’s Tails,” she reassured.  Metal turned back to Tails and nodded.

“Okay. You should lie back, and you can put the arm down for now.”

Metal Sonic complied. Tails stuck several electromagnetic wires on his head and core. He could see Amy standing back, flashing him a nervous smile. He listened as Tails brought out the same remote he was holding when they met the day before. Metal wasn’t able to catch what he was saying before the lights in his eyes scrambled and went out.

“Metal? Are you awake?” Amy shook his shoulder but the robot didn’t respond. It was eerie seeing him so lifeless now.

“He’s off. Don’t worry about us, I’m going to run some scans and see what I can learn. It’ll take a few hours, so I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

Amy nodded confidently. She knew Tails would do the right thing - and hoped that in the end, Metal Sonic would, too. 

-------

Amy took her time for the rest of the afternoon to run errands. She did some shopping in town and picked up groceries, returning home past sunset. She waited a few more hours for a call back from Tails but was beginning to think he’d keep making repairs overnight. It was nearly 11 PM before she received the call and had to brave the frigid night.

Tails didn’t answer the door personally- it opened on its own by his command. Amy hurried inside to warm up. She found her teammate at the workstation in his lab, magnifying goggles over his eyes. Metal was in the same spot- still off. 

“Hey Amy.” Tails didn’t look up from whatever he was fiddling with.

“Hey. How did it go?” Amy approached the workbench, peering over Tail’s shoulder. He was screwing one of the panels of Metal’s hand shut with the help of a vice to hold it in place. 

“Well, I was able to take a look around his head, but…” Tails flipped up his goggles and met Amy’s eyes. “There’s this sort of firewall there blocking access to a lot of whatever’s in there. And apparently there’s a failsafe, like a protocol in case Metal Sonic lost his memory, but it didn’t work.” He shrugged and scrunched his eyebrows at the mystery.

“Really? What was the protocol?”

“Seems like it was meant to help him navigate back to Eggman’s base for repairs, but his GPS isn’t working either. And that’s another thing- if I fix it, he’ll be trackable.”

“So he’s not right now?”

“Nope. And I don’t think we don’t want him to be.” Tails swiveled his chair to face the robot behind them. “But that doesn’t mean Eggman won’t still come looking…”

Amy scoffed. “He’s left him to rot for months before. He won’t look unless he’s planning something.”

“Let’s he doesn't,” Tails sighed, picking the mechanical hand from the vice and walking it over to Metal’s body. “I’m gonna keep trying to access the memory. It’ll take a while. Oh, and I removed all his weapons for now- just in case.” He fastened Metal’s hand to his forearm, screwing it in place.

“You shouldn’t mess with him like that,” Amy frowned.

“Don’t start- it’s for our own good. Especially if you plan on keeping him around your place.”

“I guess…” Amy was avoiding having to think about it. She wanted to help Metal, but having a long-term house guest in her little home wasn’t exactly in her plans. She struggled to think of another solution. 

Tails finished his work. “Well, what do you think? Not too shabby for one hand, especially considering the number we did on him,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, we really hit him hard, huh? He looks great, though.” Tails had removed the jacket Metal was wearing in order to work on his whole body. The jagged edges around where his left arm had torn off were now smooth and polished. His foot was reattached properly at the ankle. There remained scratches in his paint at the head and other areas he’d sustained damage, but all of his missing pieces were reattached neatly.

“You don’t know the half of it! I need to make more internal repairs. And what was with all the duct tape?”

Amy blushed. “I thought it would help,” she mumbled.

“Well, taking it off was a nightmare. Just leave the repairs to me, okay?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Fine.” 

“Anyway, before I wake him, I think we should agree on something…” Tails rubbed his arm awkwardly.

“What is it?”

“Are you gonna tell him anything about his past? Do you think it’s a good idea?”

Amy peered down at Metal’s body. It didn’t feel right to keep things from him, but if they told him too much he might decide to look for his master. She didn’t want to lose the opportunity, but felt conflicted about hiding the truth. “I’m not gonna tell him, but I can’t lie if he asks,” she decided.

Tails nodded. “Fair, enough, I guess.” He knew he wouldn’t be able to convince her otherwise. “Let’s get it going then.” 

Tails fetched the remote from his desk and stood by Amy. He pressed three buttons in sequence with his thumb. A loud mechanical buzzing filled the otherwise quiet lab before dying down to a whisper. After a few seconds, Metal Sonic’s eyes illuminated. He peered around, spotting Tails first, then shifting his gaze to Amy. His eyes lingered on her.

“Hey, Metal. How do you feel?” Her warm smile and kind eyes shone. Metal was pleasantly surprised to see her looking joyful.

“Can you get up?” he heard Tails ask. Metal Sonic sat up, shifting his legs over the side of the bench with his back to them. Tails circled around to face him, pulling a stand toward him with an attached clipboard. “Great! Try that arm out.” Metal looked to his left. His arm appeared just the same as his right one- no barbed edges or exposed circuitry. He rotated his shoulder backwards, meeting no resistance. Tails took notes, instructing Metal Sonic to bend his arm and each of his fingers, then to rotate his ankle and point his foot. He stood on it without issue and had no problem balancing himself. Everything was operating correctly.

Tails pointed to Metal’s left arm with his pen. “Can you extend it?”

Metal tried to lengthen the telescoping wire, but struggled. After a few seconds, the arm jutted out and fell to the floor limply. He heard Amy’s soft gasp from behind him before she scuttered around front and stood next to Tails.

“Hmm. Thought that might happen. Sorry, I don’t have enough experience with that tech. You’ll have to give me more time.” He scribbled more on his notepad before returning to his computer

Metal was able to reel his arm back into place slowly. He watched it snake on the ground before it reached all the way back into its socket. At that moment, he felt a hand on his and turned upward to meet Amy’s gaze. “I’m sorry that didn’t work, but I’m happy you’re in one piece.” Metal glanced down at his hand. She felt warm. He then looked back to her and did the best impression of a “thank you” that could be sung with mechanical chimes.

“You’re welcome.” They were each surprised to hear her say that. Could she understand him? Amy excitedly laced her fingers with his, giggling at the thought. 

Tails cleared his throat from his desk. “I don’t know what you’re saying thank you for when I fixed him single handedly,” Tails teased.

Amy let go of Metal abruptly, crossing her arms. “I could've helped if you’d let me!”

Tails snickered at this before Amy’s snarl intensified and he found it best to change the subject . “Well if you two are done, I still have to talk to Metal about something. C’mere.”

Amy sauntered behind the multitude of screens with Metal on her heels. What appeared to be x-rays lined the monitors. “This is Metal’s core,” Tails explained. “There’s a huge crack in the armature here. It’ll need welding.”

Amy raised a hand over her mouth at the realization. Her eyebrows curled in guilt. She knew that the damage was from their battle two days earlier; and she had helped Sonic deal the finishing blow. The beam that ran up and down Metal’s head and torso like a spine was cracked in two places. 

“I don’t think I can do it with this cast, so you’ll have to wait a few weeks. II’ll let you know when I’m ready. Oh, and avoid water for now- some snow must have seeped into your system from the cracks and damaged a few things.” Tails explained it all very indifferently. “You’ll be pretty waterproof once I fix it.”

Tails spoke a bit more about the repairs he’d made and what still needed to be done. With his memory, with his body, how he’d refueled the robot and other upkeep. Amy found herself panicking as she listened to the extensive list of things that needed to be done, knowing much of it was on her conscience. Metal noticed her panic, looking from her back to the black and white screen. 

She had to take a deep breath to avoid losing her composure. “Thank you, Tails. I think we should head home.”

Tails let out a yawn and looked at the time. It was close to midnight. He’d spent the day focused on everything but himself, and realized suddenly how hungry and tired he was. “Alright. The jacket’s by the lab door.”

“Hey, make sure you get some rest.” Amy pleaded. Tails had a habit of overworking himself.

He stretched out his arms. “I will.”

Amy went in for a side hug that Tails returned. “I mean it, go to sleep this time,” she smiled.

“Alright, don’t worry,” he chuckled. 

Amy and metal saw themselves out, picking his jacket up from a coat hook by the door. Metal was able to slip it on himself. He thought it felt weird to put on clothes, but was pleased he could do it himself. The pair strode out the front door, Amy bracing herself before crossing the threshold. The opening snapped closed behind them and they took off down the hill. The night was cold but clear. Amy shoved her hands deep into her pockets for warmth. “Let’s take the long way,” she suggested. Metal emulated her by slipping his own hands into the pockets of his thin jacket and nodded. The two strode the short way home quietly, under a dark sky dotted with lustrous stars.

.................................................

Notes: I’m going to start adding the tag “metamy unfamiliar” in case anyone wants to follow it (but I would greatly appreciate a blog follow, too ❤️)

#good news my friend got me high and it motivated me to finish this early lmao #hope yall are having a nice sunday #scheduled post #metamy #metal sonic x amy rose #metal sonic #amy rose #sonic fanfiction #sth #unfamiliar #ch 5 #metamy unfamilair

[chnat0wn]

The Heat that Drives the Light

words: 2, 622

warnings: language, violence

a/n: A few of you wanted a Raymond fanfiction so there it is! I’m not sure where it’s going, but have fun and feel free to share your thoughts!! 

summary: (...) “To pick up Jane. From some filthy pub, I presume?” saying that, Ray felt his hands itch. Not only because of the mentioned dirt, but the thought of her – of Jane – was making him slightly angry.

Of all the people, Ray always has to take care of the person he can't stand the most. And he does that without blinking, because the person is close to his boss.  

(the gif owner)

1.

The night was peaceful and quiet. There was no rain or wind, and the phone hadn’t rang since nearly two hours, which allowed Ray to read a bit. It was too late for a book – Ray’s eyes were sore after all day of work, and his head seemed to be too heavy to think properly. A short article in a newspaper, which wasn’t requiring much attention, felt like a perfect idea to Ray. But the sweet calmness hadn’t lasted for long. When Ray was in a middle of the article, reading about some woman, who was convinced that she is able to contact her deceased husband through their cat, someone called. Ray didn’t want to pick up, but the title “boss” crossed the screen, so he lifted the phone to his ear.

“Ray,” Michael spoke before Ray had a chance to. “I need you to do something for me.” he was talking slowly, but Ray could sense that he wasn’t as relaxed as he sounded.

“Is everything alright, boss?” Ray asked, fixing his gaze in the empty space in front of him.

“Everything is alright,” Michael repeated, again in his own pace. In his mind, Ray was able to see Michael rubbing his fingers one at another. “I just need you to pick someone up from... some place.” he said casually.

Ray closed his eyes, and shaking his head in disappointment, he sighed heavily. He knew who Michael was talking about. He could guess the place as well. “To pick up Jane. From some filthy pub, I presume?” saying that, Ray felt his hands itch. Not only because of the mentioned dirt, but the thought of her – of Jane – was making him slightly angry.

But there was no reaction from Michael to Ray’s words. He had enough of their battles, and the way they were acting around each other. “Can you do that for me, Ray?” 

“Of course, boss. I will take her home.” Ray rubbed his eyelids, slipping his fingers under the glasses he had on. Michael muttered something that sounded like a word of thanks, and then he hung up. The depth, the low volume of his voice meant that Michael was stressed, and probably wanted to keep a secret. Jane was the secret. “Fuck...” Ray sighed deeply, right after his boss got off the phone.

 *

 The pub was, indeed, filthy. And nearly dilapidated. The floor was sticky from the ages of spilled alcohol, and there were scrapes and unidentified stains all over the walls. The scent of sweat, smoke, beer and grease mixed in one, was in the air and sat heavily on every present person, then stayed on them for a long time. But despite all of this, Jane was feeling freely in these surroundings. Not because of the filth or the smell – it was a problem at the beginning, but there was nothing she could not get used to. She liked old bars and pubs for one particular reason; no one cared. All these modern clubs were too much about paying attention on appearance or behave.

“Hey,” Jane heard a voice coming from somewhere behind her back. She turned her head and saw a tall, pale man with a tufts of hair under his nose; she couldn’t tell if it was a moustache, or just an attempt to have one. “Can I buy you a drink..?”

“Thank you,” Jane shook her head. “but I’m good.” she pointed on the almost full glass in front of her. Then she grabbed and brought it to her mouth, looking away from the stranger. The thought of drinking more for someone’s money was tempting, but she knew she had enough of alcohol.

The tall man was still standing next to her. He was looking at her with his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with ya, huh?” he asked with a higher tone. It seemed like all the politeness from the minute before had disappeared now. “I’m offering you a drink and you’re saying ‘no’?”

Normally, they weren’t brave or stupid enough to act like that, and even though he was certainly drunk, Jane saw no excuse for his behavior. In that case, she decided to ignore him.

“I’m talkin’ to you.” he put a hand on her shoulder. Jane reached for an empty bottle, which was standing near, and clenching her fingers tightly around the bottleneck, she hit the edge of the bar counter with it. Right after that, she lifted the sharp-edged part to the man’s face. 

“Exactly,” Jane said, raising her eyebrow. She smirked, but the expression of her face changed immediately; from kind of amused to a serious and a bit angry one. “And if I say ‘no’, I mean the same. Not ‘ask me again’. Just ‘no’.” she explained slowly to be clear. “If I cut you, will it help you to understand that?”

The man must have had much more alcohol in his system which had been giving him bad ideas. He was scared and confused at first, but after a moment he pushed Jane’s hand away and reached to a pocket in his jacked. He got out a small knife. Her mind was slightly dazed from all the portions of beer she had, though her body was acting fast. She leaned back, avoiding the man’s weapon, but when she stood upright, he attacked again. And this time, he succeed. Jane felt sharp pain on the left side of her face, which started to radiating all over with a hot weave. Then, everything stopped. Jane touched the sore place, her cheekbone, and there was blood left on her fingers. She looked up slowly, and fixed her gaze in the man’s face.

“I’m going to fucking strangle you with my bare hands.” Jane said angrily, rather like a little girl than a serious adult. 

As she was about to smash the rest of the bottle on his head first, she suddenly felt a strong grip around her free wrist. Turning around with irritation, she bumped into someone’s chest – hard as a stone. She looked up, and the last thing she had expected was Ray’s face. He seemed unbothered, maybe a little uncomfortable due to being in that specific place and the fact that the bottle was close to his throat now.

“Oh,” Jane opened her eyes wider. “Hi, Ray.” a broad smile was lightening her face, but at that moment Ray couldn’t be as enthusiastic as her. He paid attention to her cheek, but hadn’t said nothing about that.

“What are you doing?” Ray asked. He didn’t want her to answer; he just wanted her to acknowledge that whatever she had planned – it was wrong.

“At this point, I am trying to survive.” she shrugged carelessly.

Ray shifted his gaze from Jane to the man behind her. The man was tall, but not as tall as Ray. He was also much slimmer; Jane hadn’t knew a lot about that, but Ray appeared to be considerably stronger. Even so, Ray crushed that man with a look on his face alone. He seemed unimpressed, but at the same time it looked insanely dangerous – like the calm before the deadly storm. Ray was watching him, as the man was slowly backed down. When he left the building, Ray’s gaze wandered lower. He was still giving the impression of being completely calm, but Jane noticed his heavy breath and clenched lips. “If you want to survive, don’t come to places like this one.”

“Great advice. Impossible to follow, but great advice.” she nodded firmly. She could go like that the whole night, but she felt Ray’s hand tightening on her wrist. She was silent for a moment, watching the unmoved, yet irritated expression of his face. “Real moustache!” she yelled in some kind of excitement.

Ignoring her comment, Ray looked around. He placed his sight on the half-empty glass of beer. “How many of these have you had...” he sighed. He wasn’t even disappointed, just tired. He wished this night to end. “I’m taking you home.”

“That’s very sweet, but-”

“I don’t want to. I have to.” Ray interrupted her gently; he didn’t intend to be rude. He was just a little severe by nature. “Don’t make it any harder.”

Jane was capable of making it harder. But by the look on his face, she didn’t have the heart to annoy Ray more. She was able to appreciate his commitment, even if she didn’t need to be saved.

She stepped back, as Ray let her wrist go. She set the destroyed bottle on the counter, and looked up on the barman who was standing behind it. “Sorry for that, Bobby...” she rubbed the cape of her neck.

“That’s alright, kid. He clearly deserved that.” the barman smiled warmly, so Jane did the same.

She checked if her phone still was in the back pocket of her jeans. “Right. We can go now. I’m getting the front seat!” she added quickly, and then started to run toward the exit.

“No, you are not.” Ray replied, and he went after her much slower, in his own deliberate pace.

“I can’t hear you!”

 *

 Jane looked out the window, when the car stopped. It was dark, but she was sure that she had never seen that area before. They were in a strange place, and even if Jane didn’t feel the fear, she was a bit concerned. “Where are we?” she looked at Ray. He was already out of the car, so she had to do the same to hear the answer.

“I don’t like to leave my work undone.” he said simply. Without revealing more, he went forward.

Jane closed the car door. “If you want to get rid of me, I wouldn’t advise it.” she raised her eyebrows. “I’ll fight back, you know it.” she added, but Ray didn’t stopped.

With a little smile across her face, Jane lifted up her chin to look at the dark sky. The little lights placed on the coping were gleaming with a silver glow. In the center of the city, it was almost impossible to see the stars because of all these street lights. But being here, all it took was to look up.

She could sense that Ray had disappeared somewhere. She wasn’t panicking; she saw the lights in the windows of a near building, she saw Ray’s silhouette as well. She decided to join him, mainly because it was getting colder outside.

Jane walked into a big, definitely old house that must have belonged to Ray. Not because it was old, but he had brought her here. The first room with a high ceiling, apparently the holl, turned out to be so interesting that Jane doubted for a while that Ray was living there. The walls were covered in a cold, subdued shade of turquoise, but the colour still looked too vivid for Ray. Beside that, there were also frames with rather photographs than paintings; one of them depicted the front of a car, the thing on the other one looked like a plane.

“Why...” Jane whispered to herself with some kind of disgust. Then, she looked around. She immediately fell in love with the chandelier that looked like a calmer version of a crystal ones from the twenties. And the persian, maybe russian patterned carpet.

Jane heard a loud grunting, so she turned around quickly. Ray was standing in the doorway placed between those two, ugly photographs. “Are you lost?”

“I was just...” she pointed her finger in random direction, but then she realised that Ray wasn’t interested in her explanations. He wanted to get his work done, as he said earlier. “I’m fine.” she rolled her eyes.

Ray disappeared again, and Jane followed him. They were in the kitchen, and with that lightning, Jane couldn’t tell whether the walls were purple or brown. And this, on the other hand, matched to Ray – to his personality.

“Sit there.” Ray nodded his head at the different room. As dark as the kitchen, but this time the walls were covered with a deep shade of blue. But what caught Jane’s attention were thick, plaid curtains and the dinner table. There were a lot of furniture and decorations, but all of that seemed to be hidden in the dimness.

Jane beheld a first-aid kit in Ray’s hands, so she chose to sit at the dining table because of the best lightning.

“You don’t have to do this.” Jane said, watching Ray as he was unpacking the things he intended to use. “It’s not like I’ll bleed out to death...”

“We have talked about this, haven’t we?” he raised his eyebrows. “I will take you home safely, when I’m done.”

Knowing that Ray would do whatever he had to do anyway, Jane decided to give up. All she could do was to sit there without making a sound. Ray sat down to her left, to be closer to her cheek. Jane wanted to note that it was just a scratch, but she knew it was pointless. So her eyes were wandering all over the surface of the table, trying to find something interesting enough to stick to it for longer.

“Are you going to throw up?” Ray asked. Jane looked at him and shook her head. “In that case, what is it, Jane?”

She was watching him preparing himself. He put a disposable rubber gloves on, which seemed like too much effort for Jane, and he took a cotton pad and a bottle with some fluid in it. “I’m just thinking.” Jane shrugged.

“About what?” his voice was quiet, almost soft. Focused on his task, Ray took a quick look on Jane’s cheek. He might haven’t been interested in her thoughts, but he was still waiting for the answer.

“Who brings a knife to a bar fight...” Jane narrowed her eyes, and Ray closed his own in disappointment. “Unsatisfied with the answer?” she tried not to smile, but failed. “Sorry. I will be quiet.”

Ray applied a few drops of the fluid, which turned out to be a disinfectant, on the cotton pad and brought it to her face. He pressed it gently, and moved across the entire length of the scratch. “Does it hurt?”

“No, I’m a big gir- OH FUCK!” she screamed, when the disinfectant started to working.

Ray smiled slightly with amusement. He put the pad away and leaned towards her a bit, then he blew on the scratch to ease the pain with the cool air. “It that better?”

Jane nodded. She was too tired to talk, and too afraid of it. She thought if she open her mouth, the pain would appear again. She had enough pain for that day.

Ray took the gloves off and started to putting everything back into the first-aid kit. Watching his movements, Jane frowned in confusion. “Wait, won’t we put a dressing on that?”

“No, we won’t.” Ray replied, getting up from his seat. “We will let it breathe, so it can heal faster. If it is alright.”

“It is. You don’t have the ones with animals anyway, so...” she shrugged. She stand up and decided to change the spot. She sunk back into the brown, leather couch in the other part of the room. It was creaking with every movement of her, so Jane just stopped to move. “All these walls are so dark... Why?” she spoke a bit louder so he could hear her.

“Because I painted them that way.” from where he was standing, Ray answered after a while. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” he stepped out of the kitchen and went to the living room. He found her on his couch – sleeping peacefully with the hair cascading down her face. “Great.” Ray gasped. 

#The Gentlemen #raymond smith

[nightwingshero]

🍳 🥞 💕 👑 for Amikel Blair and Zoe 😘

You went for the throat, Mel lol. Thank you for the ask love!  😘

🍳 - Can your OC cook? Are they any good at it? If so, what’s their specialty? If not, why not? And how do they survive if they can’t?

Amikel: Barely, if at all, in complete and total honesty. Girl will drink a whole bottle of alcohol and call it a meal. Din doesn’t even know how she survived all this time (she ate at the bars she would hang in in between bounties and jobs), but it is what it is. Amikel was orphaned at a young age, so cooking isn’t something that was really taught to her. She does what she can to get by, and the best she can do is hunt and heat something over a fire (maybe overcook, but we don’t talk about that) to survive if needed. 

Blair: She can! Her mother and father taught her how to, and she genuinely enjoys it. I would say her specialty is her crepes because she loves them so damn much, but she’s honestly rather good with seafood. But she makes killer meals when she can, to be honest. She doesn’t always have the time to do it, because that girl is always working on something or is too bothered to take the time to do a huge, awesome meal like her mom does. But she’s a great cook. 

Zoe: Okay, so, she knows the basics. She can throw a simple meal together, sure. Does she? No. She has a tendency to opt for takeout or fast food, but she makes it up with exercise routines. She boxes and works out a lot, which...I suppose balances it out a bit. But Zoe isn’t really bothered with cooking unless she has a rare night where she finds herself not being pulled for work...which is saying something for a detective in Detroit. 

🥞 - Speaking of food, does your OC have a favourite dish, or perhaps a specific comfort food? And do they have a favourite cuisine? (i.e. Mexican, Indian, Chinese etc)

Amikel: I’m not sure, to be very honest with you. She’s not really...a picky person, Amikel will literally eat anything (something, it seems, her and Grogu have in common). She’s more likely to be seen eating soup or just the food most bars on any planet will offer. When you live the way she does, you just learn to eat what you can...besides, she’s a bit too drunk to really tell what it is half the time.

Blair: Crepes. She loves crepes, or just breakfast food and sweets in general. Breakfast is honestly the meal she doesn’t skip, even if it’s a bit small from a café when she’s grabbing her coffee. Cinnamon buns are a comfort to her too, especially if they’re nice and warm. She does love French and Italian cuisines, if you wanna take her on a date, that’s the best bet. 

Zoe: She’s honestly eating takeout most of the time, so General Tso’s chicken is her go to for Chinese cuisine. Although, she honestly has tried a little bit of everything, she loves dumplings for sure. Mexican is another. But she usually just gets a burger meal at her favorite burger joint and calls it a night while going over case files. You can’t go wrong with that at all. Greene has shown up plenty of times with food for her when they’re working late. 

💕 - Do they fall in love easily, or is it a slower process for them?

Amikel: Oh hell no. Girl is guarded like she’s wearing Beskar (see what I did there?), and she’s proud of it. It’s hard to get to her, but honestly, she’s a softie on the inside. Once you get past that hard exterior, she’s more vulnerable. But her falling for someone is a slow process, mostly because she has to be sure she can trust and respect you. If she can’t do both, then you have no chance whatsoever. Good luck with that. 

Blair: Absolutely. She can’t help it, when someone catches her eye, they really catch her eye. Now, its not like she’s falling all over the place, not at all. Blair is very much in her own little world--her being a vigilante/superhero, working with more than one team, seemingly constant travel, and just making enough time for her friends and her loved ones and her work/hobbies. It takes something more to catch her eye, and when it does, it doesn’t go away. It’ll nag at her and build, depending on the exposure and how the interactions go. If it’s all good, she’s quick to fall, even without realizing it. 

Zoe: I think yes and no. She likes to think that she doesn’t fall that hard, but that’s mostly due to the fact she’s gone on some dates and nothing came of it. Zoe sees that as her not falling easily and being slow in it, when honestly its because she’s thrown herself into her work since Bobby left Detroit. She’s had a crush on him since high school, which seemed very unrequited, and it’s a crush she thought died, but it never did. There might be a part of her that won’t admit that the reason the dates didn’t go well was because she was subconsciously comparing them to someone else...and she fell for Bobby pretty quickly. Just saying. 

👑 - Does your OC have a reputation, either at large or within a specific group? And is it accurate?

Amikel: She has a notorious reputation to those who are aware of it. It’s not completely well-known, because Amikel isn’t stupid. She’s not going to end up like Fennec with a bounty on her head, no way. But those who have heard of her work and know what she’s capable of? They keep their mouths shut and steer clear. She might seem like nothing but a drunk, washed up bounty hunter, but looks can be very deceiving. Amikel is either seen as just that (which sure, the drunk part has weight to it) or you know her as a Shadow to be feared, and that part is very much correct. She’s had training...good training...and it proceeds her to those that know. People who blab don’t often live very long afterwards. 

Blair: Her reputation is something that’s dependable and consistent, and most people see her as someone they can count on and who is good. And yes, that’s accurate. Blair is widely known to be well-off in her field, and has great credibility as an astrophysicist. As a hero, she’s known to be logical and good, often doing what’s right and being problem solving. But of course, there’s the blip in her reputation that she’s extremely dangerous, unstable, and should take caution...which is tied to her going supernova. Blair reaches a point where she has that in check, it’s not as likely to happen, but that mark doesn’t wash away. Certain people (Rip, John Diggle, Amaya for a while, and Dinah) keep their distance because it worries them, and sometimes, people have a harder time trusting it. 

Zoe: In a way, yes. Her reputation is known on the streets that she is reasonable, but can be a tough hardass when needed. Listen, she’s a cop in Detroit, that’s not for the soft. And most people that knew Zoe, often see her as a quiet person with no backbone, and that reputation is inaccurate. Her silence or kindness isn’t weakness, and she will twist your arm and slam you against the hood of her car before you can even blink. Girl has guts and isn’t one to back down. The neighborhood knows her pretty well, her reputation isn’t really hidden if you ask around, and the community (for the most part, at least) like her because she gives back to it, and even does self-defense classes or boxing classes to those who want to, and often times with the kids. There are just some people you don’t fuck with as a rule, and she’s one of them...despite the fact that she is, in fact, a cop. 

#oc: amikel #oc: blair chambers #oc: zoe hoffman #my ocs #asks #the mandalorian #arrowverse #four brothers

[bugaboowritings]

Cry Until You’re Ladybug Red -One-sided Reveal Fic

Marinette is an ugly crier.

I’m tired, but writing helps me so here you go. A fic that was written over and over again for the last 6 hours. ENJOY SOME Light Ice ANGSTTTTTT!!!!

Marinette Dupain Cheng didn't know if it was the tension from everything and anything making it harder to peacefully sleep at night or maybe it was just her backpack collecting too many assignments. Prompting a backache that prevented her from lying down without a chorus of 'ow's following after.

The classes she came late to or missed entirely finally caught up with her. Now she was doing twice the amount of homework when others complained about the single reading assignment they had. Marinette had to fill in the blanks for lessons she wasn't presented for. Too busy to go to tutoring so setting for the blurry videos on Youtube that came close on explaining the nonsense numbers and terms.

Her lunch wasn't the once quiet break in the art studio she had before. Where she could go and express her frustration or ease in her pen marks in the shape of models. Marinette instead would scarf down what the cafeteria offered before heading off to her class representative duties. Not tasting the soggy chicken pasta on her tongue or the bitter orange juice in the carton. After-school meetings were a thing too, but often cancel for reasons or replaced by an email thread discussing something relevant. It was better than standing in a meeting with teachers she didn't know. Adding her two bits in to give the conversation another view to considered. The students. The kids her age. The same kids that seem to grow farther away as the days pass. Too into their lives to notices their leader breaking her back for them.

But Marinette couldn't stop.

She promised so much. She had to do it all.  And she knew she could do it all. She was just a little slower than she wanted. Alya often took over for Marinette's sake but Marinette still worked as if she had all the work to herself.

If Marinette had time to breathe, she had time to catch up. That was the mindset she had.

She needed every second to work and study. To sew and write. To draw and color. At one point, needing to mute her phone from her friend's group chat for being too much of a distraction.

Jagged Stone wanted art for his new album, so far Marinette just had the line art done. Which was the second hardest part when it came to designing a life-sized poster. The color scheme was set but she just needed the supplies. Double tapping on her phone to set a reminder to pick up new markers so she could play around with the hues before setting them down permanently. Bumbling to the next commission like a busy bee.

Marinette crushed facts between her teeth, answering another one of Tikki's practice history questions. Swiftly hearing a 'correct' along with a lecture of the additional facts Marinette had to remember. Know very well that they weren't sticking to her head.

Stepping on the foot pedal of her sewing machine a little faster. Quickly finishing up the hem on a Kitty Section band shirt. Swiftly tossing it with the pile with the rest. Reaching for more raw fabric before cringing.

Her math homework!

"Noooooo," she hushed, pulling up her bag to her lap. Tikki looking over chosen one's actions with a troubled look.  Marinette frantically searching for her folder. Throwing her head back when she read her reminded in the right-hand corner of her work packet.  

Due and Test on Thursday.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

The test is on next week It had to be. Ms. Mendeleiev even wrote it on the board. There had to be a mistake.

Marinette picked up her phone. Tapping on her group chat to see if her nightmare was true. There, the same chat she muted, Nino asked questions about the practice packet. Which Max replied with an answer and link to a video. The more she scrolled up, the more she saw her classmates trade information on the incomplete packet sitting on her desk.

However, what really dropped her spirits was Kim's remark about how he should cancel swim practice for today to study for the test on Thursday.

Thursday.

A.k.a. tomorrow.

A.k.a. the same day Marinette had to make up a history test.

A.k.a. TOMORROW!

"No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. " Marinette gasped. Holding her breath before freaking out again.  

---------

That Wednesday she didn't get a blink of sleep. Stuffing herself with formulas, history dates, and snacks from last night dinner to early breakfast to the instant she entered the class. All in hopes that it would be enough to get her by. Piecing her last brain cells together the moment she saw the board with directions to get to their seats and prep before the exam started.

That is before the alarms rang. Red light flashing as the familiar message bounced off the walls.

"Akuma Alert!.... Get away from open areas!..... Akuma Alert!... Ladybug and Chat Noir will be on the scene shortly!... Akuma Alert!... Remain calm!...."  

Ms. Mendeleiev quieted the class from praising the perfectly timed alert. Pulling the first aid bag under her desk and an attendance sheet from her folder. Calling them over to make a line outside the door before they made their way with the rest of the school in one of the destinated "Akuma-Safe" locations. Done so in hopes to keep the students safe since many of the Akuma attacks, in the beginning, were reported to start at the school. It was a great way to watch over them, but it made it harder for Marinette to sneak out. Luckily, an opportunity to escape came up. Sadly, it was the thing the teachers and students were running from.

The Akuma today on the news was a giant. A silhouette made from scribbles. Like it was an unfinished sketch of a person. The lines that made up their face and hands buzzed with every motion. Their voice shaking the ground and the outline that made them 3-D.

"The world sets up those with dreams and promise to fail. Luckily, I'm here to fix what ought to be right! I'm the Correction we need!"

Right then and there, Correction (if that was their name) ripped buildings from the ground. The sounds of the broken concrete came easily as if Correction was brushing off like dirt on the structures. Masses of people were torn between jumping out of the buildings before it got too high off the ground or setting themselves in a corner. Trying not to cry.

Correction laughed as they plucked the city apart like it was a cheap lego set. Letting the buildings in their hands turn into the same scribble mess like them before setting them down.

News outlets were already streaming an eagle view of the new Paris. One that resembled sketch versions of what they once were. Correction had "corrected" 30% of Paris into their own ideal. However, it wasn't for the better. Paris became black and white. No color or grays.

It was 'yes' or 'no'. The world would be easier than way.

At least that was Correction's motivation.

Ladybug looked Correction's eyes. Hoping to see any emotion. Anything to try to reason with them before they destroyed the city and maybe even the rest of France.

"Correction. you don't have to do this. You can just stop. Things will work out."

"How would you know that!" They snapped. "You know nothing about what needs to be done!" Pulling back on Ladybug's yoyo as LB tried to keep them steady and away from the citizens evacuating the area. Pulling tighter and tighter on her yo-yo as Correction fought back.

"Ladybug, you're another bug destined to be squshed by them! I'm just trying to make the world better!"

"BY TRAPPING OF ALL PARIS UNDER YOUR REIGN? As if!" Chat Noir scoffed. "How is this better!?"

"Oppressed by those that don't care. Pushed back for the sake of being an after-thought. Voices drowned out for the nothing. That's how we are treated now by those sitting their shiny desks." Correction glared. "My world will be better than that."

LB ground her teeth in frustration as she felt her yo-yo slip from her fingers. Calling on Tikki if she could hear her to mustard up more magical strength as she tugged on the giant. "Even if people get hurt?" Ladybug huffed, her arms aching more and more with every second.

Correction hesitated for a moment. Opening their mouth to say something before shutting it as a purple outline appeared.

"Even if people get hurt." Correction answered.

-------

Ladybug had to leave before her miraculous gave out. At least that's what she said. Know very well it wasn't that.

God, she hated reporters. Lately, Akumas like Correction has been popping up. Stronger and more clever than ever. Almost matching her wits and Chat Noir's quick thinking. In the beginning, they were anxious to see the heroes fight the Akumas and almost fail. Now some of them were claiming this was on purpose.

"Ladybug and Chat Noir are in an alliance with Hawkmoth".

 The infamous title of a late article immediately sparked an uproar. The author was quickly put under fire for their remarks. The Ladyblog even debunked it for the sake of Miraculous Fan Base. However, people were convinced that a stranger had some logic behind them. So started the Anti-Miraculous group.

Ladybug even had to pull back Chat once before he could give them a piece of his mind.

However, after a long day, the last thing she wanted someone, a complete stranger from the street, tell her that she's not trying. Do they not know what she does for them! Do they know how she breaks her back for the sake of Paris! How she almost lost her friends and her family due to her mask! All for a job she was just chosen for. She never wanted to be a hero! Who wants to even be a hero when the whole world seems against you. When the very ground itself wants to trip you up when you get back up.

Who even wants that?

Marinette bites her lips, landing in an alley close by the school. Keeping her tears down as she took another deep breath. 

“Tikki- Spots off!” 

She has to go home. She needs too. She -she needs to just leave.

If she's quick enough, she could run home and tell her mom that- no that won't work.

God, Marinette just relax.

Before Hawkmoth sends an Akuma after her. Before she even dares to hurt anyone. Before she can hurt Alya. Before she can hurt her mom and her dad.  Before she can hurt Nino and Adrien. Before she can hurt Luka. Before she can hurt Kitty Section. Before she can hurt her whole class and more. Before she can hurt Paris. Before she can hurt Tikki. Before she hurts-

"Ladybug?"

Chat.

Marinette came back to her senses. Turning around to the voice that called her. Goosebumps rising as the tension shook her soul to the core.

Adrien. Adrien saw her.

Marinette could throw up right now. Sweat running cold down her shoulders. Making her sick. Oh my kwamis, Marinette could actually throw up right now.

Adrien's mouth gaped open as his brows furrowed together. His eyes searching her face. Looking so confused in what just happened.

No.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

He saw her. He saw her. He saw Ladybug and saw Marinette Dupain Cheng.

He looks so disappointed right now.

That hot thought made the gears in her head spin. The tears turn into steam. Pumping her body to do something. Anything to stop this.

"Marinett-"

Marinette shoved Adrien on to the bricked wall. Placing her forearm again his chest to keep him there. Raising her fist to his face. Not like to be a threat, but as protection. From what. Marinette didn't know. It was just a reflex.

"Adrien Agreste. You don't speak about what you saw today to no one or anything." Marinette shushed. "If you know what good for you and for Paris."

"Got it?" She asked.

"Marinette, I-"

"ADRIEN!" She yelled. Louder than she meant to.

Her voice softens as she closed her eyes. Breathing in softly before whispering.

"Please, p-please promise me."

Her shoulders and fist sinking down. Fatigue hitting her harder than ever.

"Don't tell anyone, Adrien." Marinette huffed. Unable to say his name before her lip slipped out a sob.

"Don't tell anyone."

------

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #fic #my writing #angst in a way #angst #level one angst #writing #tikki #based off a comic i saw #let me find it so i can tag them #miraculous the tales of ladybug and chat noir

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

Butterflies/Chapter 3

The colors of the cars blended together as they crossed the highway, the breeze nearly knocking her off her feet. This would be the hard part of getting to the public library. Though the library was a lot closer than the bookstore, the one downfall was that you had to cross highway 10 to get there. Highway 10 usually brought a lot of deaths and accidents in its wake. There was a medium, however, that one could cross to for safety. Celestia of course planned to do this with ease. She'd done it many times before. There was probably a safer way of doing this, but she couldn't think of one on the spot.

Celestia waited for her opening. It'd have to be a big one considering she had short legs and couldn't run very fast. Cars going around 70 miles per hour zipped with a swoosh past her small body. There. A large opening came to. Celestia took a deep breath and crossed. Not as dramatic as she thought it would be, though she kept an eye on her left, making sure nothing was coming. Nearly tripping on the sidewalk, she made it to the medium. She had run a lot faster than she originally thought at first, taking into deep breaths. She waited for her second chance. She didn't have to wait very long, crossing as soon as she could.

The library was a building of considerable height and width with glass windows from floor to ceiling and about three stories. This used to be her favorite spot after school, coming here to just relax and read for a bit. That was when she enjoyed reading a long time ago. She didn't anymore. It was just as simple as that though, no other reason. At least none that she could think of.

The moment she entered the building, cool air enveloped her. It wasn’t too hot out or anything, it just felt nicer inside. Fresher. She hadn’t been here in a long time. Celestia figured the first thing she should do would be to check the computers. There weren’t many people here today since it was Monday, so she wouldn’t have to worry about a wait. The computers for searching were across from the fiction section, a small seating area next to a window nestled near the bathrooms. She found a chair and set her bag down, pulling herself forward to start up the computer. It was already on with something in the search bar. “Devil In The White City” in tiny letters in the bar at the top of the screen. That had been another book on her list. That sounded interesting as well, but she deleted the text and typed in the book she wanted.

Endurance

Searching...

No results found.

Great. Celestia sighed, her hopes dying again. Then she had a thought. Maybe they did have it and just hadn’t put it in yet. She jumped up, almost forgetting her bag by the chair before scooping it up over her shoulders again. She tried not to look like she was in a hurry. There was no time for small talk or questions. The lady at the front desk was sat at her computer, reading. Her thick blonde hair yanked back into a short ponytail and her tan skin dull against the white of the walls.

“Uh, excuse me ma’am.” Celestia started. She could barely see over the desk because of her height. Her hands held onto the edge of the tall desk while she brought herself to her toes. An attempt to see over the marble. The woman glanced up from her book then drew her attention back down.

“Hm?” the woman hummed to her. So she was paying attention.

“I was wondering if you had a book here. Endurance by Shackleton. I searched on the pc but-“

“If you didn’t find it there then we don’t have it.” the lady cut Celestia off rudely. Celestia quickly hushed herself, willing her eyes not to water.

“O-oh… okay, excuse me for bothering you…” she heard her voice crack under the pressure of staying stable. The woman simply hummed again, not even looking at Celestia. Celestia took another breath, stepping out of the library and near the highway again. She felt tears welling up already. She would have to make the trip to the bookstore and be home before dark somehow. Celestia tried to think. She could wait until tomorrow to go and get it, that way she would definitely be home before dark came around. The sun looked like it was getting closer and closer to the horizon.

Then again, what if her parents stayed home tomorrow and they wouldn’t let her go at all? That possibility was more than likely to happen. Celestia leaned her head back, looking up at the orange tinting sky. She would have to do it today. She turned again, making way towards the other side of town.

Celestia wasn’t scared of walking alone. The town she lived in was actually relatively safe. At least, she felt safer outside than at home. People bustled around as they started to come out of work. Going to get groceries, moving into their homes for probably the rest of the day, fast food places being filled to the brim with people. Celestia always forgot just how packed her town was. Her short legs tried to move a little faster though, trying to save some daylight. Despite the safety of the small town, it was still dangerous to travel alone at night. Who knew what thugs were prowling around the streets when everything went dark?

The streets were slower as the cars passed. Celestia could actually see the passengers as they drove by. This of course made her feel better, as everything was a lot slower and more manageable. Now only down to about 30 miles an hour. She could still feel the breeze of the cars as they flew by. The bookstore was a bit of a ways down the road, but just having a relaxing walk couldn’t hurt, right? She hoped not.

After a little more time of walking, Celestia’s legs grew tired. She could now see the bookstore up ahead in the mall. She kept going, not wanting to falter and end up being out later than she had to be. The building was of course smaller than the public library. A giant sign across the top of the door that read “Book Warehouse” shined in the light. She smiled, her body perking up and the ache in her calves ceasing entirely. Celestia swiftly entered through the door, peeking around to see how many people were here. A lot more than she had expected. The store was a little cramped due not only to the amount of people inside but the amount of shelves packed together.p in the tiny space.

Celestia hurriedly moved towards the back of the store near the nonfiction section, avoiding anyone she could. She pleaded in her head that Endurance was here. She could have just asked and everything would have been quicker, though she wanted to avoid people if she could help it. Small talk was best avoided.

Once she got there, she immediately noticed it. The deep blue cover with the ship set a sail, broken and battered in the storm. Celestia smiled again, stretching her arm up for it. However, she couldn’t quite reach it. She cursed under her breath, trying again. Her fingers could barely touch the cover. If she just hopped up a little…

She tried to do just that, coming back down and, with a squeal, nearly falling backwards before strong arms caught her. Fear coursed through her and once he let her go she whipped around. She expected to see the long brown hair and cold brown eyes of her father, filled with rage at the fact that she hadn’t come home yet. However, it wasn’t him. Rather a handsome man stared back at her. Messy black hair slightly covering a wrapped bandage over his forehead. He was in a casual dress of jeans and black hoodie. He looked a lot older than Celestia, but around her age at the same time.

“S-s-sorry…” she stuttered, her hands clasping together in front of her and her eyes averting his grey gaze. The man chuckled.

“You’re alright, is this what you needed?” he asked. He stood directly in front of her, easily grabbing up Endurance and holding it out to her. She looked back up, nodding. Celestia gently took the book out of his hands.

“Thank you sir…” she spoke softly. He smiled.

“What’s it for?” he asked suddenly. Celestia knew she should be getting back by now, but something in her said she could stay and speak with him. Something pulled her into him. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it either….

“It’s for a class I’m in… AP Literature…” she explained her project. The presentation she was going to do and how she was going to do it. The man seemed genuinely interested in her explanation. Celestia took this as a positive, stranger danger going out of the window completely.

“Ah~ Endurance is a good choice. I assume you haven’t read it then, hmm?”

“No sir, but of course I plan to.”

Well of course she did.

He didn’t seem to notice this however, simply smiling again at her. He started conversation about Endurance, talking about how much he personally had enjoyed it and how he thought it would be an easy read, considering it actually wasn’t for AP Literature students, but AP Language students instead. Celestia listened to him, not even realizing just how quickly time had been passing by.

“Mind if I ask your name?” he stood over her, closer now. It wasn’t dominating however, not like her father. It felt different. Safe couldn’t have been the word, she’d only just met him. Yet she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter on her feet when he moved closer to her. His body heat felt comfortable even through the layers of her uniform.

“Celestia. Celestia Fae.” her last name might have been a bit much, but she held out her hand to shake his. He took it, his smile deepening.

“That’s a beautiful name you have there, Celestia. I’m Chrollo. Chrollo Lucilfer.” he shook her hand. A strong handshake, but it didn’t hurt. It wasn’t forceful. Something in this interaction made her heart swell. He was being so gentle with her. This made that feeling she continued having to strengthen again and her knees felt slightly weaker.

She let go of his hand, hoping she hadn’t lingered too long and made things awkward. Celestia could feel the pink in her cheeks brighten as she looked down at the book.

“Uh… sorry if I’m intruding but um,” she started, her body feeling hot, “do you uh… do you come here often?” she questioned. She knew this might have been a little more invasive than he may have liked, though if he thought such things, he didn’t show them. Instead he showed her yet another gentle smile.

“No, not anymore. I’ve been busy with some business stuff lately where I work. I just haven’t had the time.” he answered her. Celestia’s heart sank and she didn’t quite know why. It should have been what she expected. Typically when you meet strangers, you never see them again.

“What’s the matter?” he noticed, squatting down to her level to look her in the eye. Celestia’s cheeks flushed again and she backed away slightly. Not too far though, she didn’t want to come off scared. That would make her seem even more vulnerable than she probably already looked. She shook her head.

“Nothing… you just seemed interesting and with what you said, you being busy, I’ll probably never speak to you again… sorry if that’s weird…” she rubbed her arm a little in embarrassment. She shouldn’t have been acting like this. This was a complete stranger and she already had felt an attachment start to build. A soft chuckle interrupted her thoughts.

“I haven’t even left and you already miss me?” his smile wasn’t teasing or mocking. It was genuine. Her cheeks turned a darker shade and her hands began to shake again. She held them behind her back to hide them. Chrollo stood again, towering over her. He held out his hand.

“Can I see your phone?” it was a sudden request. Before Celestia could stop herself, she was already handing it to him. The charms in the little port at the top of the phone clunked together quietly. Chrollo opened her phone. She wasn’t allowed to have a passcode on it since her parents liked to check it often. Lately they hadn’t been doing those routinely checkups though. Chrollo typed something into the phone, handing it back to her.

‘Chrollo Lucilfer’ stared back at her, his phone number underneath. A text message made her phone vibrate roughly. At first, a chill ran down her spine. She had thought once again that it would be her father, requiring she come back this instant or he would raise hell. It wasn’t. It was Chrollo.

Just so you know you have the right number. ;)

“O-oh, you didn’t have to-“

“I insist, if you want to speak with me more, then I’d be happy to. You don’t have to of course. I won’t force you.” the words were kind when they came out of his mouth. Celestia’s lip quivered. Someone to talk to. She’d never had that before.

“Thank you, Chrollo…” she didn’t know why she was thanking him. Or more so, she knew but she knew that he didn’t know. Chrollo didn’t question it, again, just smiling.

Celestia finally took a glance outside, her blood turning cold. She looked at the clock on her phone.

9:59

She started to shake. She wanted to stop herself but she couldn’t.

“Celestia? Are you alright?” his voice sounded through her ears. The shaking didn’t entirely stop, though it slowed. She could manage to move her head enough to look at him. Everything felt like it stilled. Just like the movies and the books. Everything in her head went quiet for nearly a full second. She was okay. She opened her mouth.

“I should get home.” she squeaked the words out, sounding like a toy. Chrollo blinked at her.

“Okay. I’ll pay for this and I can take you home. It’s dangerous for you to walk yourself, agree?” he offered, his voice always so gentle and calm. Celestia nodded, simply following Chrollo to the front. He did in fact pay for Endurance, and then led her out of the building. His hand was near the small of her back, not exactly touching her rather than simply reminding her he was there. Chrollo led her to a white car in the parking lot near the back. For some reason, he didn’t feel the need to run. She didn’t even feel uneasy. She felt fine. Relaxed. Safe.

“Where is it I’m taking you.” he asked, his eyes gazing down at her. She looked up at him.

“Home- uh I mean…” she gave him the address.

“But, could you drop me off a few houses before? I don’t want my parents to know I let a stranger drive me…” she didn’t know if that was worse or walking home. Chrollo’s eyes narrowed a bit, but no malice surfaced in his expression.

“Alright.” he finally said. He opened the door for her. The seat was soft, made of expensive leather. She sunk a little in the seat, pulling her seatbelt over her tiny frame. Celestia let her bag lie on the floor while Chrollo entered the car. He started the engine, pulling out to start heading to her address. It was strange. He knew exactly where he was going. She didn’t say anything about it, afraid she’d end up coming to a false conclusion. Maybe he had just been around the area a lot. He probably lived here.

The lights passed by on the highway. The glare slightly hurt her sensitive eyes as she stared through the windshield. Neither of them spoke much during the car ride. Celestia would have started reading, however, it was dark and she couldn’t see.

“Would you like to read some? I apologize for not saying much. I am a little weary…” Chrollo explained. It was like he could read her mind.

“As long as it doesn’t distract you from driving…” she said. Chrollo leaned over and turned on the light so Celestia could see. She felt like she was in a spotlight. Everyone outside of the car could see her now and she felt shy. Not only that, but someone who knew her may notice her and say something to her parents. She tried not to let it bother her, opening her book to start.

She read the entire way home, glancing up every now and then to make sure they were still on the right track. She shouldn’t have gotten in the car at all with him, she realized. It was too late now. Though, he was still going the right way. He never made an awkward turn or turned off somewhere on the highway. Celestia noticed her neighborhood up ahead.

“Right there.” she stated. Celestia closed her book, slipping it into her bag and unbuckling while Chrollo turned on her street. She was grateful that he didn’t take her anywhere else. He stopped right at the end of the street.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pull up to your house?” he questioned one more time. Celestia nodded.

“I’ll be okay, thank you for the ride.” she pulled her stuff up from the floor and got out of the car, waving. Chrollo shut the light off, staying in his spot, the engine quietly rumbling in contentment. Celestia hurriedly rushed to her house. Once she got there, she checked the door. It was unlocked. A shiver rolled up her spine. She walked in, but saw no one.

“Mommy? Daddy?” she called out. She regretted it right after. No one answered though. She shut the door, locking it behind her. She heard an engine outside. She scrambled up to her room, nearly throwing her things onto her bed. But when she chanced a look out of her window, she noticed Chrollo’s car driving away.

He had stayed to make sure she got inside, safely.

#chrollo #hxh #my work #fanfiction

[lumilasi]

UPDATE: Bio revamp. Also I should probs draw him an outfit he wears when he goes into more “darker” route, I.E ends up being a “Villain” Jackrabbit.

Maybe there is a Vigilante bio sheet thing somewhere, I was too lazy to search for it hence I’m using the villain template and just editing it where necessary...

The character in the photo on the upper left is @glitchedskull‘s Naosu btw, who’s Saname’s BF

Rest of the bio below;

Age: around 13-14 when he first meets Ryuu and Kain.

Sexuality: pan 

SANAME’S QUIRK EXPLAINED  (Pros in normal, cons in bold)

Quirk name: Acid-palm

He can burn and melt anything he touches at will with ease as if his hands were coated in acid. Saname can also control how slow or fast things corrode, and even what direction the corrosion heads very precisely.

He doesn’t have to keep touching the object to corrode it; after touching the effect will continue as he pre-planned it. He can also change the effect’s speed and direction after removing his hand as long as he has visual to it.

He can do anything from creating a tiny hole to melting away large walls fairly quickly. 

Ironically, Saname is mostly immune to other acidic quirks and substances, just not his own.

If not careful, Saname can end up burning himself as sometimes a highly agitated state can cause his quirk to activate accidentally, and he’s not immune to his own touch. (hence the scars on his neck and over his eye)

Blocking his line of sight from what he’s touched makes him unable to change the way the corrosion happens if needed.

The effect of his acidic touch tends to weaken and move slower in colder weathers

FEW MORE FACTS

- Wasabi is good with melee-weapons like a staff or a pipe, and usually carries around one.

- He loves rabbits more than anything because his only toy as a child was a bunny plushie, one he still carries around and has a strong attachment to

- Ryuu is his favorite and he likes to stalk him around a lot each time Ryuu is around, this has led to problems too where he ends up in danger and the two have to save him. He finds Ryuu’s weird chilly crystal powers cool. (pun not intended)

- he has a slight phobia about collapsing buildings and fires due to what he went through as a child, having a flame hero - while fighting a villain - destroy his original home of sorts.

- Saname’s visible eye (the one with the palmprint scar) is discolored and lighter due to the injury he caused accidentally with his quirk when it first activated; he can still see with it thankfully, but it tends to get irritated easier than the other one. His “normal” eye is pure black and yellow. (I seem to have habit of drawing him in a way where you almost never see his uninjured eye heh.....)

- Saname as an adult mostly minds his own business, but due to the influence from his mothers and Ryuu and Kain) he tends to just act without thinking and doing what he thinks is right, even if its illegal. He never actively chose to be a vigilante like his other mum, its just kind of how he ended up due to his nature.

- His knee-pads in his Vigilante outfit are his lion mama Kei’s old ones from her outfit. His utility belt is also similar to her old one, just dark grey instead of brown.

PERSONALITY

As a child, Wasabi was very curious and easily excitable, getting in trouble a lot as a result. He had difficulty controlling his emotions due to his early childhood however, and was often aggressive, where he could snap from friendly to will-whack-you-with-a-stick in less than a second. 

As a young adult, he’s much more chill and well-mannered, but still has bit of a childish goofiness to him which can lead to silly situations and generally makes people think he’s the “class-clown” or “airhead” type. He’s also learned to be more mindful of people’s boundaries, when as a kid he tended to easily get into people’s faces so to say, making things awkward and uncomfortable.

 He can still get viciously mad in certain situations, but he no longer throws an uncontrollable fit; rather, he channels his anger in doing what he wants to do. During these times people can actually find this normally relaxed and happy-go-lucky (and a bit oblivious) chill dude really scary. 

He can be distracted pretty easily, except when he’s in a fight; thanks to training from both his mum Kei, and an unconventional family friend of sorts Ryuu Katagiri, Saname tends to be laser focused during those, which makes him a dangerous opponent. He tends to shut out everything else then and focus on defeating whoever he is fighting.

BG STORY SUMMARY

Saname grew up in an orphanage initially on a more poor area of the city; he can’t really remember anything about his original parents, perhaps due to trauma of some sort; given his aversion to fire people suspect he might’ve been in a fire that killed his parents.

 He was often bullied by other children and called weird because of his eyes, (he was the only one in that orphanage with “atypical” human eyes) difficult, easily triggered temper, and quirk that he struggled to control as a kid. (resulting in the scarring he has)

The orphanage gave him his name “Saname Wasabi,” because of his green hair and quirk. (and temper)

Then, the orphanage got destroyed accidentally in a fight in-between a hero (Endeavor) and a villain, with some of the staff and kids actually getting hurt in the process. Saname ended up running away amidst the chaos, frightened by the battle as the flames triggered his past unknown trauma.

Wandering around the city lost and scared, he eventually ran into a young woman named Rankure Hanekijo, who due to personal reasons decides to take the boy under her wing. Unfortunately, she had some bad people after her, forcing the two to flee outside the city, eventually ending up in a rural town where a local coffee-shop owner Kei Reidou - who turned out to have once been a vigilante - takes them in out of pity.

He ends up being unofficially adopted by the two women, who home-school him and he was even taught how to fight and better handle his quirk by Reidou. (This later led him to becoming a vigilante) 

Later on, Wasabi meets an old acquaintance of his new mum, a young man named Kain, who has supposedly become a villain and is friends with a known one. Because the pair helps preventing his mothers from getting arrested by some government agents by distracting them and basically making them think the lead about a woman named Akiko Hinoteki (Kei’s original name and identity) was a false alarm, Wasabi deems the pair okay. He ends up developing a big brother - little brother like relationship with Ryuu, who grows fond of the boy despite initial grouchiness, even teaching him some fight moves.

While doing his vigilante things, probably due to Kain and Ryuu’s influence, Saname ended up occasionally going further than what probably would be necessary, in some cases full blown killing the criminal if he deemed them bad enough, or just beating people up worse than needed. This ended up creating a rumor of an evil doppleganger for his vigilante persona, perhaps especially because occasionally when he did this, he wasn’t wearing his vigilante garments. 

Ref sheet base (C) Yourultraarchive

Character (C) Me

#my bnha oc #wasabi saname #saname wasabi #character bio #bio update #my hero academy oc #bnha villain oc #boku no hero oc #Lumi's art scribbles #Lumi's chaotic creations

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (9) (Branjie/Scyvie) - Ortega

a/n: it’s BA-ACK! hope u guys enjoy this chapter, and as always pls send me love to my blog/to this blog because i love attention xo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: supermarket chaos, and Brooke found out about the Branjie sweepstake. she didn’t take it well.

this chapter: Brooke and Vanessa talk things out, and there’s apologies to be said.

***

It had started to rain. Brooke was beginning to regret her choice of jacket- a leather one without a hood- but she had been going to wash her hair that evening anyway, and she supposed that was the least of her worries at the moment. As the rain began to batter down, Brooke realised that half the reason why her face was wet was because she was crying. It didn’t make any sense for that to be the case- Brooke was angry, fucking fuming to be specific, but she wasn’t necessarily sad. Perhaps embarrassed was the correct word, she thought, as she swiped at her face with her sleeve. The thought of her entire friendship group having a good laugh at her and Vanessa’s expense made her cheeks burn and the blood in her veins do the same.

Brooke didn’t really know where she was walking to, but she knew where she was walking from, and she was damned if she was going back to the flat anytime soon. Sniffing harshly, she removed her phone from her pocket and called Vanessa, the other girl picking up in about one and a half rings.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby,” Vanessa’s voice was defeated. Brooke decided it was the worst thing she’d ever heard in her entire life.

“Sorry for phoning. I just had to talk to you after all that shit on the group chat, I mean…how could they fucking do that, Ness, our own fucking friends? I just-”

“I’m fuckin’ raging at them, Brooke, honestly. I went out for shopping then I got those messages through and I’ve not been able to concentrate since. I’ve just been pacin’ and pacin’ around Sainsbury’s like a fuckin’ bear in a zoo. Look, where are you just now?”

“Um,” Brooke began, scanning her surroundings. She’d been walking so fast that she’d barely been taking them in. “In the middle of the park. I’m about five minutes from Sainsbury’s, actually.”

“I’ll meet you halfway, okay? See you soon.“

With that, Vanessa abruptly hung up. Brooke took it more as a comment on her friends and not herself. As she began walking with some purpose at last, Brooke found herself wondering what she was actually going to say to Vanessa when they saw each other. Rant, probably. But there was something that instantly calmed Brooke down knowing she would be seeing Vanessa soon and get to hold her, having her reassure her and placate her.

It ended up being about three-quarters due to Vanessa’s shorter legs rendering her slower and Brooke’s long ones ensuring she took big strides. Brooke saw her coming towards her from a distance just at the park’s edge and as they both reached out for a hug, they crashed into each other with a force that accurately conveyed both their anger and just how much they seemed to have missed each other in the 24 hour period they’d been apart.

“Fuck them,” Vanessa muttered into Brooke’s jacket. She was wearing her massive parka, the one with the fluffy pink hood. To Brooke, it made her all the more cuddly. She gave her a squeeze around her middle and tilted her chin up to press a quick kiss to her lips, coming back again for a second, then a third.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Brooke decided, slipping her arm through Vanessa’s and instantly feeling about 80% calmer. “There’s that new bar that opened up round the corner. Could try there?”

They walked towards it wordlessly, a journey that only took about three minutes but in that time hundreds of unsavoury thoughts had begun to swirl around in Brooke’s head like floating bits of food waste down a plughole. She waited until they had found a booth through the back in relative quiet and until Vanessa had shrugged her damp jacket off before she let rip.

“I just can’t fucking believe it, Ness. Like, I know we kept stuff from everyone but a fucking sweepstake. Jesus Christ. The thought of everyone sitting and putting bets and watching our every move…like how long has it been going on for?! How long have we just been like performing monkeys to them?! I mean Christ, we only just found out we liked each other less than a month ago!” Brooke hissed, Vanessa sitting and nodding rapidly in affirmation as she spoke.

“I’m just hurt,” she sighed heavily, breaking Brooke’s heart in the process. “I mean I don’t know why I didn’t tell Silk and Kiki, but I just…didn’t. Everything was so new and weird between us. Hell, I guess it still is."

Brooke smiled back at Vanessa across the table, who was shooting a shy one her way. "I guess that was why I never told Yvie and Nina either. I didn’t want them making fun of us. Guess that turned out well."

Vanessa gave a quick laugh that lit up Brooke’s insides. She fumbled around in her jacket pocket for her purse. "What do you want to drink? I’ll get them in."

Too exhausted to argue over who was paying, Brooke conceded. "Gin and lemonade.”

Vanessa gave a wordless nod as she strutted up to the bar. Self-conscious of being left on her own, Brooke took out her phone and flipped it over in her hands. There weren’t any new messages to the chat- it was likely that the girls were using whatever one they had for the sweepstake to talk about what had happened in private- but Brooke had a string of missed calls from Yvie and Nina, and a few from Scarlet. There was a sole voicemail from Nina, which Brooke listened to.

“Brooke, hey, it’s me. Call me when you get this, or Yvie, or any of us really. We’re all really sorry and we’re worried about you.”

At that moment, Brooke could hear Yvie’s voice in the background, panicked and harsh, yelling at Nina about how nobody left voicemails in this day and fucking age and how Brooke was unlikely to even listen to it.

“Uh, yeah, so to sum up- we’re sorry, we love you, call us. Bye.”

Brooke couldn’t help but quirk a smile at that. She loved Nina so much, the girl was so kind-hearted and loving and caring. Which was why it made her betrayal all the more hurtful and so damn fucking confusing. Why would Nina do something like that to Brooke? Unless of course, Nina didn’t see it that way at all. Unless she really genuinely thought Brooke and Vanessa would have found it funny.

Brooke was deep in thought as Vanessa returned with one gin and lemonade, one pink gin and lemonade, and a packet of salt and vinegar kettle chips.

“Fifteen forty-five for all of that. You better buy me some diamonds or some shit and then we’re even,” she quipped, raising her eyebrows as she sat down opposite Brooke. She smiled indulgently at her.

“Can I ask you something?” Brooke began hesitantly, her mind still working overtime. “If I had wanted to set up a sweepstake about like…Scarlet and Yvie. Or Nina and Monet. Would you have gone along with it?”

Vanessa shrugged and sipped her drink. “Yeah, because that shit’s funny. And cute, because it’s them. It’s different with us. We ain’t…you know. We ain’t like them.”

Brooke frowned a little and tried not to dwell on Vanessa’s justification, focusing more on her current train of thought. “But maybe that’s what the others thought when they made that sweepstake for us. Maybe they genuinely thought it was funny."

Vanessa narrowed her eyes. "Nina thinks that Michael MacIntyre is a funny comedian, it don’t make her correct.”

Brooke pulled a face and sipped her own drink. She’d been so angry and quick to judge, but now that she was with Vanessa and she’d had time to calm down, maybe the others were right. Maybe they’d both gone about this whole thing in the wrong way. Brooke hadn’t realised she’d been staring into space until she heard Vanessa drum on the table with her nails.

“So, uh,” she bit her lip and smiled up at Brooke. “You like me, huh?”

Brooke’s blood suddenly turned to ice. “What?”

Vanessa had gone a little bit red. It was out of character for her, and it made Brooke blush as well. “Earlier. You basically said you liked me.”

Brooke felt her speech catch in her throat. “Well I meant…we had that conversation in Liezen-”

“About how we liked kissing each other, yeah. And then we had a conversation about how we liked fuckin’ each other. But we’ve never had a conversation about actually liking each other. You were the one that said that,” Vanessa finished Brooke’s sentence mischievously. Brooke suddenly found herself wishing she was directly above a trapdoor that would plummet her into the Earth’s core and burn her to a crisp. She simply stared at Vanessa with her mouth open slightly, wondering what the correct thing to say was. Vanessa only laughed in response, growing more red as she spoke again. “So you like me?"

Brooke forced herself to look at the table top. If she looked at Vanessa she’d die. This was the moment she’d been waiting basically her entire university career for, the speech she’d been rehearsing for about three years, so why couldn’t she physically speak? She took a sip of her drink and grew a set of balls and locked eyes with Vanessa. "Yeah, I do.”

Vanessa’s face broke out into an uncontrollable smile as she tipped her head back to the ceiling, and Brooke found her heart going into cardiac arrest. “Do you, uh. Do you…feel…the same about me?"

Vanessa burst out laughing, Brooke wondering how what felt like her life hanging in the balance could be so funny to her. "Take a fuckin’ guess.”

Brooke spluttered an awkward, nervous laugh. It seemed like a yes? She felt like Vanessa wouldn’t have taken things as far as they’d gone if it wasn’t. “Yes?”

Vanessa tucked her hair behind her ears, tried to suppress her smile, and failed. In a quiet voice, she confirmed. “Fuck, Brooke…I’m crazy about you”

Brooke felt her heart explode and her eyes transform into love hearts and all of her insides get churned around like a cement mixer. She laughed and reached for Vanessa’s hand across the table. “Jesus. Well. Good. Okay. I really want to kiss you.”

Vanessa rapidly bounced into the seat beside Brooke like an excitable bunny and met her lips with her own. They kissed hard and passionately, and Vanessa had her hands tangled in Brooke’s damp hair and fuck, Brooke would need to pull away before things escalated and they were barred from the pub for doing something indecent. So Brooke pulled back, Vanessa tilting her head up needily, pouting and letting out a small whine.

“Whining,” Brooke simply said, a warning tone to her voice which made Vanessa’s pout get bigger and her eyes flash a little with lust. It shot Brooke back to when Vanessa was writhing underneath her with her face buried in the pillow and her hips squirming and bucking, as Brooke made her beg for what she wanted and the other girl kept up a litany of moans and whines and sighs. Fuck, no wonder Yvie and Nina had called bullshit when Brooke had denied everything. “Bratty behaviour.”

“Yeah well, I like getting my way,” Vanessa shrugged, smiling deliciously and flicking her eyes down to Brooke’s lips. Lowering her voice, she whispered. “And I’m touching myself under the table.”

Brooke almost choked. Rapidly, she craned her neck to find Vanessa’s hands sat against the leather covers of the seat, absolutely nowhere near her crotch. As Brooke sighed in relief and only about 60% disappointment, Vanessa howled a laugh. “Oh my God! Bitch! You are so fucking easy to wind up! It’s too fucking easy!”

“You’re too fucking easy, you big slut,” Brooke deadpanned, pushing Vanessa’s shoulder and letting out a laugh in spite of herself. Sighing, she picked at the crisps. “Speaking of big sluts. Our friends.”

“Yes.”

Brooke exhaled. “You know, now that I actually know you like me, the sweepstake does seem kind of funny.”

Vanessa smiled guiltily. “Yeah. Kinda does.”

Brooke frowned. “I mean they’re still absolute dicks for doing it in the first place, but our friends are dicks. What’s new.”

“True. I’m still mad at them though.”

“Ness. We didn’t tell them a single thing about what’s happening between us. The least they’re going to do is speculate. We did kind of make our beds a little bit here,” Brooke sighed, taking another handful of crisps. Vanessa exhaled and rolled her eyes.

“Can we at least make them feel real shit about it?”

“Yes. Although I don’t know if you’ll succeed with Silky.”

“That bitch could bomb half the Southern hemisphere and she’d still maintain it was the funniest joke she’d ever played,” Vanessa raised her eyebrows, Brooke snorting a laugh beside her. As they both grew quiet, Brooke found herself laying a protective arm over Vanessa’s shoulders.

“Hey. You okay?”

Vanessa looked up at her, her dark eyes and blown pupils making them seem so huge and deep, and Brooke knew they weren’t girlfriends yet but she felt so lucky to even be with her, beside her, knowing that she liked her and Vanessa liked her back. That was enough for now.

“I’m good. I just don’t want to go back to the flat. It’s gonna be awkward,” Vanessa pouted, Brooke pulling a face as she agreed.

“It will. But you’ll be fine. You’ll all talk it out and we’ll all go back to normal. That’s all I want to do at the moment.“

"You want to…oh,” Vanessa’s face looked downcast, and Brooke instantly registered that she’d got the wrong end of the stick.

“No, no, no, not with us! I’m happy for us to still be doing…all this,” Brooke gave Vanessa’s shoulder a squeeze and the other girl relaxed. “This is good. I like it. It’s like an upgraded version of friendship.”

“Right,” Vanessa smiled cheekily, Brooke now able to fully relax.

They finished up their drinks and the rest of the crisps and made their way outside, where it had stopped raining and was now just replaced with cold dampness, puddles on the pavement shining despite the clouds. Brooke’s arm had moved to rest around Vanessa’s waist at her hip, and she didn’t really want to let go. Knowing they were about to leave each other, Vanessa turned and kissed Brooke gently, something almost fragile to it as if she was afraid she’d fracture or break.

Unable to believe it, Brooke asked Vanessa to confirm. “So, uh. You actually like me?”

Vanessa burst out laughing, Brooke feeling as if she was blushing all the way up to her scalp. “Of course I do, you fuckin’ idiot.”

Brooke couldn’t help the dumb smile that spread across her face. The novelty of knowing that would never wear off.

They squeezed each other a goodbye, and Brooke started back to her flat. She suddenly felt the trepidation overtake her, wondering what would happen when she arrived back. Would Yvie be furious at her? She seemed pretty apologetic when Brooke had been shouting at her. Fuck, why did she shout at her? Yvie was her best friend, for fuck’s sake, and things had already been so fragile between them. She’d wanted to make amends, Brooke had known that, and then she’d overreacted and ruined it all. Brooke felt the tears sting at her eyes as she quickened her pace. What if Nina hated her now too? Kind, sweet Nina who had never done anything malicious to anyone in her life. Scarlet had been at the flat too. She probably thought Brooke was a complete and utter dick for the way she’d acted. Jesus Christ, everyone probably hated her. What was the point of going home? Everyone was talking about her on that separate group chat, probably wondering how they could avoid her for the rest of the year. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

By the time Brooke got home and climbed the numerous stairs up to her flat she was hyperventilating so badly that her chest felt tight and constricted, as if a snake had wrapped itself around her ribcage. She immediately stumbled through to the kitchen, filled up the nearest glass (she didn’t care if it was clean or dirty), reached up to her shelf on the cupboard and ripped into the little packet of beta blockers she kept there. She took one every morning but sometimes life called for two per day, even though the packet urged her not to and her anxiety often spiked after the second one anyway as she panicked and worried about heart failure.

Brooke took deep breaths and steadied herself against the kitchen counter. The small living room was empty and Brooke knew exactly where Yvie and Nina would be. She wondered if Scarlet was still here, embarrassment overtaking her and threatening to ruin the tiny, fragile, tissue-paper level of calm she’d managed to return herself to. She took two more deep breaths, pressing her feet deeply into the soles of her shoes and trying to ground herself as much as she could. She had to face the girls at some stage. They were her flatmates, for fuck’s sake.

So Brooke tentatively slipped off her trainers, still absolutely soaked from the rain and the various puddles she’d stepped in on the way home. She knocked on Yvie’s door and waited for the shouts of “come in”- two, not three, she noted. Opening the door, she saw Yvie and Nina tucked up in Yvie’s bed together, both on their phones. They put them down as Brooke came in and smiled- Nina’s was warm and Yvie’s more nervous.

“Hey,” Yvie was the first to speak, Nina opening her arms and Brooke feeling herself flopping down on top of the duvet in the small space between her two flatmates.

“ ’M sorry,” she muttered, the proud side of her hoping that the duvet would conceal most of her apology. Brooke heard Nina tut and felt a body lean over to hug her.

“No, baby, we’re sorry. We’ve been shit friends and shouldn’t have put that pressure on you and Vanessa to do anything. We thought it was just a joke, but it’s your damn potential relationship. We should have thought,” Nina sighed, Brooke immediately consumed with guilt at having ever been angry with her friends.

“I mean, you did still behave like an asshole,” Brooke heard Yvie’s voice, causing her to let out a laugh. Funny cuz it’s true. “But so did we. And we’re sorry.”

Brooke sat up on her elbows and finally faced her friends, her best fucking friends in the world. She realised she was crying again and got annoyed at herself. “Stupid fucking tears.”

“Tears are valid! Crying is valid! Don’t you dare bottle shit up!” Nina chastised her, coming across as more of a mum than ever. Brooke let out a half-sob, half-laugh.

“I should’ve let you guys in, I should’ve talked to you about it. About everything. Maybe you would’ve helped me make sense of the fucking mincemeat that Vanessa’s turned my brain into. I’m so sorry,” Brooke sighed, Yvie opening her arms for a cuddle which she accepted gratefully.

“We’re sorry. You’re sorry. We’re all sorry. Let’s be friends again, bitch, I hate falling out with you,” Yvie pleaded, Brooke squeezing her tight and feeling a soft weight against her as Nina joined in the hug.

“I love you guys so much,” Brooke whispered, Nina and Yvie returning the sentiment and Brooke finally feeling as if something in her life was settled. They stayed cuddled up as Brooke frowned.

“Where’s Scarlet?”

“Went home. She thought we’d need some flat time when you got back.”

“Fuck, Yvie-”

“If you apologise again I’m going to smack you. We’re fine. I also have a fuckton of bolognaise that can’t all fit into the freezer so if you’re really sorry you’ll eat it all,” Yvie deadpanned, then noticed the look of acceptance on Brooke’s face. “Brooke it’s a fucking joke, right, it’s a fucking joke, please don’t gorge yourself on bolognaise trying to prove something.”

Brooke felt a small bubble of laughter escape her mouth, and Nina began chuckling beside her until all three of the friends were laughing in a heap on Yvie’s bed.

“I feel like I’ve missed so much. How is Scarlet? How are you two going?” Brooke asked, staring up at Yvie’s ceiling.

“We’re good. She’s…amazing. She’s funny and dorky and cute and a complete dumbass whilst simultaneously being the most intelligent person I’ve ever met. She’s a fucking kinky bitch though, complete definition of a dark horse,” Yvie let out a small laugh, Nina gasping theatrically.

“Oh my Christ! A match made in heaven if ever there was one.”

“Excuse me, Miss, don’t think you get off easy,” Brooke sat up on her elbow and turned to her. “You and Monet? What’s that all about, you actually got your shit together and told her that you like her?”

“Not exactly,” Nina began to explain, her face already strawberry-red as she spoke about her crush (or maybe girlfriend. Fuck, Brooke had missed a lot). “She took the lead on everything. Told me she’d liked me since we started taking the same modules together this year. Told me I was the most beautiful girl she’d ever met. Basically filling my head with lies.”

“Shut up, you insecure son of a bitch, and accept the love,” Yvie thumped her, Nina giving an exaggerated cry.

“We went for a date the other day. It was so nice, Brooke, she’s a total sweetheart. I can’t believe she actually likes me, of all people,” Nina’s voice grew small, and Brooke felt guilt stab at her stomach. Nina hadn’t had any relationships for as long as Brooke had known her, so of course as she was about to enter into a potential one she’d be doubting herself and wondering and worrying too much. Brooke needed to be there for her.

“Of course she likes you. You’re legitimately the best person I know,” Brooke pouted. “Yvie’s right. Don’t you dare overthink this, bitch. Monet likes you, it’s that simple.”

Nina raised her eyebrows and fixed Brooke with a look of disbelief. “Brooke Lynn Hytes is telling me not to overthink things? Jesus, someone call Trevor McDonald. I want to put this on the News at 10.”

As the girls laughed and Brooke rolled her eyes, Yvie’s phone began to ring. Brooke and Nina listened with interest as she answered, the smile that appeared when she saw who was calling dictating it could only be Scarlet.

“Hey, boo…no, she’s back now…about ten minutes ago. Okay,” a laugh and then Yvie’s face grew red. “Okay…okay, I’ll see you. Okay. Lov- Okay. Bye!”

Brooke and Nina exchanged a look. Brooke knew what she’d heard. Or, almost heard. Nina spoke before her.

“Was that an, um…an L-word that almost got dropped there, Yvelynn Oddly?” she said schemingly, Yvie’s face suddenly appearing as pink as if she’d been smacked.

“What? No? You guys,” Yvie muttered, rolling her eyes and throwing her phone down on the bed. Brooke raised an eyebrow at her.

“Excuse me, I just learned my lesson here. Share shit with your friends. Come on, spill the fucking beans or we’ll start a sweepstake about you.”

“It’s honestly nothing.”

“We want to hear anything! However mediocre,” Nina cried, sitting bolt upright excitedly. Yvie rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll spill the mediocrity and beans,” she sighed, shrugging and pausing before she spoke. “You guys know I love you, because I tell you all the time. I tell all my friends all the time. And I used to tell Scarlet all the time too but now, of course…it means a hell of a lot more.”

“Oh, babe,” Brooke sighed sympathetically. It had never occurred to her before, but she used to do the same with Vanessa, and Vanessa used to tell her all the time too. It was one of the things that used to stab at her heart, a small twist of a knife in her stomach. Since Yvie’s birthday, neither of them had said it to the other. Brooke missed it.

“I keep going to say it when I usually would…at the end of phonecalls…when we say goodbye to each other…when she does something nice for me. And I know all of our other areas of the whole relationship are going fast, like we were already girlfriends and I barely even took her on a date. I’m just cautious, but even though I’m trying hard not to say it, it still threatens to come out at times.”

“There’s a difference between being in love with someone and just loving them,” Nina chimed in thoughtfully.

“No, I know,” Yvie reassured her. “But at the same time, I don’t know what the fuck it feels like to be in love with someone either! It’s never happened to me before. So how the fuck am I supposed to know? Shit, I could be in love with Scarlet and I might not even know.”

Brooke bit her lip, completely understanding where Yvie was coming from. She cast a glance to Nina and felt her stomach tighten. Out of the three of them, none were particularly well-versed in relationships. Yvie had seen a couple of girls over the years and was the queen of one night stands, but nothing had ever come of them. Brooke had dated a couple of guys back in her first year back when she still thought she was bi and then had realised she was 100% lesbian when she’d taken her first girl back from the gay club in town, then after that she’d spent most of her time pining over Vanjie. And Nina was Nina. The girl would have to be waterboarded before she actively made a move on someone. She let out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Nina asked, already smiling. Brooke’s laugh got louder and she let out a faux-scream.

“Bitch! Look at us. We’ve all finally got the girls we like to like us back and none of us knows what the fuck to do about it!”

Yvie and Nina joined in with her laughter, soon growing hysterical as the girls screeched beside her. They were soon interrupted by all three of their phones going off at the same time.

“Vanjie’s been reinstated. Shit, I need to change her nickname,” Yvie smiled, pouncing on her phone. Smiling, Brooke checked her phone.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline added Vanessa Vanjie Mateo.

Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: Alright hoes

Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: Two things

Yvie Oddly set the nickname for Vanessa Vanjie Mateo to Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie.

Okay Then: (shrek voice) OH HELLO THERE

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Who’s down for film night at ours tonight

Kim Kardashian-West: ALL OF US!!!

Yvie’s bitch: MEEEEE xxxxxxxxxxxx

Okay Then: Okay then

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Second thing

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Who had Yvie’s birthday in the sweepstake

“Bitch!! Knew it!!” Yvie laughed, thumping Brooke on the arm, the other girl laughing good-humouredly. She shot a message off to Vanessa.

Brooke: Things went well with Silk and Akeria then? xxx

Vanessa: Silk actually apologised wtf

Vanessa: but yeah they were cute and it went well xxx

Brooke: Good. I’ll come over with the girls later xxx

Vanessa: Staying over?

Brooke’s heart gave a jump.

Brooke: Yes! If you want me to

Vanessa: Always want you to boo xxx

Brooke turned her phone over and listened to Yvie, now stressed and talking about their upcoming exams. In contrast, Brooke hadn’t felt this calm in a long while.

#rpdr fanfiction #not nineteen forever #n19f #ortega #s11 #branjie #scyvie #background ninex #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #yvie oddly #scarlet envy #lesbian au #university au #college au #nina west #akeria davenport #silky nutmeg ganache #plastique tiara

[mercurykelly]

Day Five -- A long-held goal realized: Mesa Verde

Up close and personal -- my first view of Cliff Palace

I’m up early, hoping to arrive at the park as soon as it opens at 8 AM.  After luxuriating in my hot tub last night, I washed out a few items and hung them to dry.  I am now shocked to find that all of these items dried overnight.  It would take two or maybe three days for them to dry under similar circumstances in Seattle.  I cleverly deduce that this area must be very dry indeed. (Continue reading below.)

Cliff Palace from an overlook

Balcony House through a telescope

Spruce Tree House

DAY FIVE -- A long-held goal realized: Mesa Verde

I eat a quick bowl of oatmeal at Holiday Inn’s free breakfast and head out into a lovely sunny morning. I’ve wanted to visit Mesa Verde for more than 20 years and intend to devote this entire day to it. The last time I drove through here on my way to visit my sister and her new twin girls (who are about to turn 21, OMG)  I didn’t plan well enough and didn’t have time to tour the park, for which you need a  minimum of three hours to see anything at all.  I now plan to make up for that omission.  

I stop at the Park Entrance Station where I get in a short line to buy a ticket for a ranger-led tour. There are three tours listed: Cliff Palace, Balcony House and Long House, however today only the Cliff Palace tour is available.  Signs warn that the tour of Cliff Palace is very strenuous so I fret while waiting in line, worried that the tour might be more than I can handle.  When it’s my turn to talk to the ranger selling tickets, I ask for more details about the tour.  She tells me I will have to negotiate 4 ten-foot ladders and walk over uneven and rocky ground.  I reason (under my breath) that if I managed to climb to the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral only six months ago, I should be able to manage this.  

So you want a ticket? Yes, please.  I expect it to be expensive, but the price is just $5.00.  When I express surprise at the minimal fee, the ranger says, if you want to spend big money you can buy a tour from the private company that contracts out for us. She jerks her head in the direction of a desk manned by someone who does not appear to be a ranger.  I consider this option briefly, but per the sign these tours are long (nine hours!) and involve being driven around the park in a huge bus (I hate being a captive audience) so I decide to explore the rest of the park on my own after seeing the Cliff Palace.  

My tour is scheduled for 10:00 AM.  After selling me a ticket, the ranger says I have plenty of time to get there as long as I don’t dawdle – it’s an hour-long drive to the top of the mesa.  She gives me a map and marks the spot where the tour will begin.  An hour! Yikes.  I skip the exhibits and head out to my car.  

At the park entrance, I point to the senior pass hanging from my rear-view mirror and ask the ranger if she needs anything else.  At Canyonlands I was waved through on the strength of this pass, but at Mesa Verde I have to show an ID and submit my pass for close scrutiny.  I suppose this is an indication of how popular this park is – nothing is taken for granted.  

To get to the heart of the park, I now follow a road that winds 1500 feet up the side of the mesa. The elevation in Cortez is 6200 feet; now I will be climbing to over 8000.   The road to the top of the mesa must be taken slowly as it is very narrow with hairpin turns.  (For the first years of the park’s existence, this was a graded dirt, one-way road.  Before a vehicle started up the road to the top of the mesa, a telephone call (from a phone box at the bottom) made sure no one was on their way down, then all downwards traffic was held until the caller arrived at the top.  (I learned this fascinating fact by reading a book called “Our Trip to Mesa Verde 1922” that I purchased in the gift shop later.)

I drive straight to the meeting spot for the tour and am the first to arrive.  Due to a recent rockfall that has closed the usual entrance, our tour will enter Cliff Palace at the same place we exit.  Soon there are several of us waiting for the ranger to show up.  I strike up a conversation with a couple of women who appear to be about my age and mention the fact that I am traveling alone.  They are suitably impressed.  I show off a little: travel when you want, where you want, I say, and they nod appreciatively.  I briefly sketch out my route and mention that I stopped to see the Great Salt Lake. They want to know what I thought of it. The question feels loaded so I hedge a bit.  Well it seemed quite nice this time, but my last visit wasn’t quite as positive. (Trying to say both that I liked it and also that I didn’t, so I can take my cue from their reaction. But I never quite decide what they think of the lake or why they asked. I get a sense that they might live near Salt Lake and are not terribly impressed.)

They ask if I have any sunscreen, so I get some out of my car. Then I ask if they have any ibuprofen as the headache I woke up with is unrelenting.  They do.  It’s a good trade and there are smiles all round.  These brief friendly encounters are one of the best parts of travel.   (I realize later that I was probably suffering from low-grade altitude sickness during my stay in Cortez and Mesa Verde.  In spite of taking ibuprofen the headache stayed with me the entire day.)

Our tour guide shows up. At exactly 10 o’clock she leads us down a short trail to the ladders.  She tells us we will go down one by one and after descending we are to follow the path to the right and join her near the ruins where we will wait for everyone to climb down and join us.  There are four 10-foot ladders made out of rounded, bark-free, tourist-worn tree trunks about six inches in width and a yard long which although precipitous are fairly easy to negotiate.  I make the mistake of taking my walking sticks with me (because we were warned that we would have to traverse uneven ground) and they make my descent much clumsier, clanking against the rungs of the ladder and even getting caught up behind them. I have to move carefully and make sure every step is secure and the sticks make it difficult as it seems I am untangling them constantly.  Even with these issues, I’m not the slowest by any means, which is a relief. (Several are slower including a woman with acrophobia who takes so long to descend and needs so much help the ranger has to start the tour without her.)

After successfully negotiating the ladders I follow a well-worn trail around the rock face and suddenly the Cliff Palace ruins are before me – a sandstone city of towers, living and storage rooms, kivas and open work areas.   It looks just like the photos I’ve studied and for some reason this seems incredible – a long-treasured wish suddenly coming true.  After years of wanting to see this site now it’s right in front of me and I’m overwhelmed.

I find it impossible to see these structures and not also feel intrigued by the mysteries that can never be answered.  Why did these ancient people move from the top of the mesa where they had lived from AD 550 to AD 1200 and down into the cliffs? Why did they suddenly abandon the cliff dwellings in AD 1300, leaving behind many prized possessions such as mats, ceramic vessels and stores of food? There are many theories, but it is impossible to answer these questions definitively.  What an enigmatic and evocative place.  

Our ranger is knowledgeable and enthusiastic.  She tells us that Mesa Verde has been a national park since 1906 and that it was the first park established to protect cultural and archaeological treasures rather than natural wonders.  The archaeological sites needed protection as they were increasingly being plundered by travelers and explorers.  Even the man given credit for discovering the ruins – Richard Wetherill—is considered by some to be more plunderer than archaeologist.  

The ruins are empty now, their contents scattered across the country in museums.  It seems a shame that it isn’t possible to see the pottery and other artifacts in the place they originated.  I promise myself that I will visit some of these museums in the near future, to get a better feel for the people who lived here.

But at least the ruins remain.  Our guide tells us that Cliff Palace contains 150 rooms, 75 open areas, and 21 kivas. There are both round and square towers and many storage rooms and granaries.  She shares some of the theories about the use of Cliff Palace – some believe it was a residence for several families, some believe it was largely a ceremonial site with a few people caring for it and living in residence.  Some believe it was used strategically during conflict. When she talks about the reason the inhabitants abandoned these dwellings, she discusses factors that may have contributed to their decision – several years of drought in the years immediately before their departure, for instance.  She concludes by saying she believes they moved on because, based on their culture and beliefs, it was simply time to go.  

Although our guide has a wealth of knowledge about Mesa Verde and the people who lived here, (she tells us she has worked as an archaeologist in this area for years) she is too matter of fact for my liking.  I long to hear someone speculate about the past and weave stories about the people who used to be called the Anasazi. (Researchers and archaeologists stopped using this term when they realized it was a Navajo word meaning ancient enemy.) The current and more accurate name for the people who lived in Mesa Verde is Ancestral Puebloans.

The tour ends and we now have to climb back up the ladders. It’s considerably harder than climbing down, even worse than I anticipated.  I stop between each section of ladder and try to briefly catch my breath—briefly, because I don’t want to be obviously incapable – which has more to do with pride than anything else. There is no question that the altitude is affecting me, especially while climbing these four ten-foot ladders.  When I get to the top I’m gasping, heart racing, and wishing I’d thought to bring along my inhaler, which I rarely need but could really use now.  

There are several benches at the top of the ladders – placed strategically for tourists who need to stop and catch their breath.  I’m surprised to see that it’s not only we older folks who need to rest after the climb—people 30 years younger than me are panting and gasping as well. The unfortunate woman with acrophobia is nowhere to be seen.  

I return to my car, with plans to drive around the top of the mesa and see as much of the park as is possible in a day of touring.  There is so much more to see – the park contains 5000 archeological sites, including 600 cliff dwellings.  Of course, only a small fraction of these are available to tour – but even so, there is far more than can be seen in one day: Spruce Tree House, Fire House Ruins, Square Tower House Overlook, Oak Tree House Ruins, Sunset House, Balcony House, Mesa Top, Long House, Step House – the list goes on and on.   I do my best and drive to as many of these as I can.  One of the highlights of Mesa Verde is Balcony House, so I walk out about ¾ of a mile to a spot where you can view it from across a canyon.  There is a telescope you can train on the site for a closer look and I manage to take a photograph through this telescope.    (The round photo above.)

I also check out the Mesa Top ruins, where the Ancestral Puebloans lived hundreds of years longer than they lived in the cliff dwellings, and drive both the Cliff Palace and Mesa Top Loops, stopping frequently to walk to overlooks and examine excavated ruins.

It is late in the afternoon when I make it to the Chapin Mesa Archaeological Museum.  Spruce Tree House Overlook is nearby and there is a lovely paved path on which you can walk down for a closer look but by this point I am so exhausted I don’t feel able to walk even this short distance.  (For someone who can only manage a flying visit, this is definitely the place to go – The Spruce Tree House is an impressive site and easy to get to, plus it is within walking distance of a café, museum and bookstore. If you were pressed for time you could hit just this one area of the park.)

Although feeling very tired I manage to visit the bookstore, where I overdo it as usual and buy four (!) books about Mesa Verde because I am still longing for more – I want something I can take with me and savor after this day is over.  Also, I hope the books will satisfy some of the curiosity I still feel about the people who lived here and their fate.  

One of the books is simply for fun: a Nevada Barr mystery (this is a fun series with a female protagonist who is a ranger who moves from national park to national park, solving a different mystery in each.  I had read the mystery set in Mesa Verde many years earlier – (so long ago I could no longer remember who-done-it.)  It was fun to reread and this time around be able to recognize many of the landmarks and know that I had actually set foot in many of them!)

I also buy a very short tract written by three young women who visited the park in 1920 (they walked to Mesa Verde from their homes in Colorado), another book based on interviews with Marietta Wetherill, wife of Richard who excavated extensively here and in Chaco Canyon.  My fourth book ends up being the best of the lot – I buy it because it appears to be a book that will satisfy my craving for more detailed information about the people who lived here -- a book that will bring those early days to life and provide answers or at least speculation about their lives and motivations: “House of Rain” by Craig Childs.  The research and effort that went into his book is astounding.  What a luxury to have someone do extensive research (including many long walks across the desert), interview archaeologists and scientists, and pull together all of these many threads of knowledge into a cohesive whole. Even better, Childs can write like a dream—the kind of writing you just fall into.  I highly recommend it.

In addition to these books I buy souvenirs for myself and family, then head over to the cafe and grab a late lunch.  By this point I’ve reached the end of my endurance and am ready to head back to my hot tub.  I’ve seen a lot, and even though I can’t see everything (I don’t make it to the Wetherill Mesa, where Step House and Long House are located), I have finally satisfied some of my curiosity about Mesa Verde.  I drive down off the mesa and return to my motel room, so exhausted I don’t have the energy to walk across the parking lot for a meal.  

But all I saw and experienced today makes the extreme exhaustion worth it. I am as pleased with my efforts as I would be if I ran a marathon or hiked a mountain – the exhaustion is just a symptom of having explored and learned to the utmost.  And the things I did and saw today couldn’t be a more perfect match for my personal interests and inclinations – beautiful scenery, fascinating ruins, and enough information to imagine how life was lived hundreds of years ago. I loved every minute of it.

#MesaVerde #FourCorners #travelinglady #traveladdict #roadtrip #ancestralpuebloans

[psuedo-psyde-blog]

Deviation: Chapter 2- Walk Through the Woods

Cooperation, and the sharing of knowledge lead the rational races out of the darkness and towards civilization. Having others to bounce ideas off of, or just help with a new perspective has always been a boon to the weaker races. Aväk's are one of the few species that take advantage of this as newborns. Swarm's are very tight nit and will lay down their lives to ensure that the eldest survive. They also have a blinding hunger that causes them to consume everything that they can. It is this very instinct that make swarms so dangerous. This instinct is a double edged sword for the outcasts of their race, the deväk. This, my friends is the reason there are not more deväk in the world, and why we find our little friend covered in the blood and guts of desacrator ants.

The Lost Woods were so much more than just woods in the past kingdom would have been apt. It even had a tyrant queen. This queen squandered the heights of her power, because she had more fun watching her things die than watching them win. The Woods are still quite powerful, but they are no longer queen. A queen need subjects and hers were diminishing by the day.

The Lost Woods were elegant, pulsing with mystic energies, and absolutely reeking of adventure. It is funny how adventure smells like mortal peril, but I digress. The trees, the leaves, even the ground seemed to vibrate with life. Picturesque. A captivating sight that could be enjoyed by anyone with eyes. Okay maybe not just eyes, at least a quarter of a working brain.

So naturally our bug didn't notice a thing.

While wandering, well stumbling is more apt with the bugs messed up anatomy. While stumbling through the Lost Woods the infant deväk stumbled upon a patrol of the highly aggressive desecrator ants. In ages past this relatively small species of purple and black ants would use their corrosive venom to wipe whole settlements off the map. Many highly ranked and leveled adventurers came together to fight against the desecration, but never being able to fully eradicating them. Eventually seculding the bugs completely to the Lost Woods. You see dear friends, these specific ants need to eat a specific type of magical plant to use their specific venom. So eradicating the plants neutered the desecrator ants killing potential. The Lost Woods was the only place the plant grew it because nobody wanted to go in there, and they would have to kill the whole forest. Which most would agree is impossible, and a really dumb way to die. Neither the deväk nor the five desecrators knew any of this, but being creatures of near pure instinct they were instantly at each other's throats. Both parties seeing the other as nothing more than food.

The ants screeched at the intruder spreading out to circle the deväk, however the deväk used its misshapen, but powerful legs to pounce. Smashing into the lead ant it began to tear into its foes chitin, lacking the sharp claws of the auxiliary pair the main arms of the deväk began to punch and pull at the limbs of the ant. The auxiliary arms were currently jabing and trying to stab through the monsters plating. The ant was momentarily stunned as the deväk assaulted it, but it wasn't long before it reared back and opened its mouth to spit it's corrosive poison all over it attacker. It was interrupted when it suddenly had its arm ripped off. If this was any other creature this would have been a debilitating injury, but being an ant has its advantages. However, that didn't factor in when the deväk stabbed it's claws through it's simple eye and deep into what passed for it's brain. 

The four remaining ants were not deterred by this development since they were, well, ants, and they proceeded by launching an insync barrage of acid. This was only possible because the simple ants were all mentally linked. Expecting their prey to begin dissolving under their deluge, they moved in for the kill. The prey in question merely looked at itself and cocked its head in confusion. It didn't understand what had just happened, and it wondered if it had misread the situation. It didn't know what they had covered it in, and thought that it might have been food since it came from their mouths. If so was this them trying to be nice and feed the starving deväk?

It was also warm and kind of tingling to the magical senses of its chitin. Neither aväk nor deväk had nerves in their chitin, if they did our little friend would probably be in quite a lot of pain. Thankfully the chitin was slightly magical in nature and blocked any serious damage. Our small bulbous friend decided that was not the case, when the ants started biting it all over. Not that this really did anything to it, again chitin. It wasn't full aväk chitin of course, but it was still roughly half as durable, which was more than enough to withstand the patrol ants mandibles.

Letting this continue was not high on a list of things the deväk wanted to do, if it even had a list to begin with. So it began grabbing hold of the ants heads and trying to stab them through their purple glowing eyes. Which it thought of as their 'shiny soft bits'. Unfortunately, the ants were not very cooperative with their would-be brain surgeon, and did their best to get away from the slightly dripping deväk. Still two more ants fell to its claws before the message that they were outmatched was received by the surviving two. Before the pair could flee with due haste, the pair was reduced to one. As the prey turned predator managed to force the slower one to the ground. Forcing it's claws through a break in the chitin the deväk ripped the struggling ant's head clean off, covering itself in gore. 

Seeing a bountiful meal in front of it eyes it didn't even consider chasing the escapee. Well it did consider it, but only because it wasn't sure it this bounty would fill it completely. Before it started to dig into its meal, the little bug took the time to wipe itself off. Being of an insectoid persuasion, having liquid on its shell was making it hard for it to breath. Like most insects the deväk didn't breath per se, its carapace was slightly porous and it pulls oxygen from the air without needing to inhale or exhale. So being covered in liquid was a good way to suffocate.

After wiping itself off the deväk let both of it's marg tendrils free and tentatively took a bite, the marg's teeth and jaws easily pierced and crushed the chitin. It pulled off hunks of flesh with extreme ease. The deväk wished it used these in the fight earlier; it would have gone so much faster, but its instincts had screamed that it was dangerous. It would definitely ignore those instincts if it made the killing easier.

Finding the ants extremely tasty, the deväk began devouring them with gusto. It discovered that it still preferred the brain, but the meaty thorax was a close second. When it reached the poison sack it took a small bite and immediately regretted it. The poison's corrosive properties burned a hole in one of its mouths. Which is a lot better than having it injected, or accidentally ingesting it. They inject their poison into bigger targets killing them in seconds, which is the only real reason the deväk had done so well against the ants. Being the same size, and having a sturdy carapace saved the young deväk. It was like a rock, while the ants were scissors. Nearing the end of its feast something unexpected happened.

Learning from earlier mistakes our little bug didn't run at the sight of the windows this time. Instead it relaxed and let the messages pop with in its mind, and now understood that this would help it avoid the bad thing. Becoming reasonably more excited, the deväk focused on gene pools hoping to pull up another window.

This one stalled the deväk's excitement just a bit because there was a lot that it didn't understand, but it knew that three categories represented what it was, and what it had eaten as a larvae. It was also rather let down at the amount it needed to eat before it wasn't in trouble of expiring anymore. The deväk didn't know what numbers were, but it understood 100 to be a lot and 1000 to be a lot of lots.

Not understanding pretty much anything that prompt had relayed, our bug was stumped. Its body didn't change in any significant way at all. On a fundamental level attributes were just a type of energy that could enhance the user beyond physical means, while changing nothing about the user. These attributes could make up for a weakness in one's physical stature. So our little bug twisted and mangled was almost constantly using all of its attributes to keep going. Almost all living things had at least ten percent in all physical modifiers, while our bug had next to nothing.

The fledgling deväk sat in the grass digesting its food blissfully unaware of how bad the situation was, and wishing it had chased after the escapee. Just relaxing the bug suddenly noticed that there was a pulling in it head off in the direction that the ant fled in. Not realizing that this was a facet of its ability parasitical growth the deväk tried to let the pulling sensation fade, but it was quite insistent. Finishing its mid morning meal, and or possessing the brain power to think of why this might be a bad idea it started walking in the direction of the pulling. 

Following the pull for about thirty minutes, which for a creature just about four centimeters tall, wasn't as far as it sounds. Our young deväk came across a clearing a few meters wide that gives a very clear example of why these ants were called desecrators. The ground was black and dead looking, the trees bordering the clearing were sickly and dying, and what looked like the nest in the middle of the clearing was just a pile of assorted and decomposing meat. A line of ants the size of field mice were putting more meat on the pile in fist sized chunks, while flying variants with big stingers were guarding them and the rest of the clearing. The deväk processed this and came to the conclusion that its previous meal was just a light snack compared to the feast it was about to enjoy.

Putting no more thought into it than that, the intrepped deväk rushed into the clearing looking to sink its claws into something, and it found it almost immediately.  A returning party of five scouts intercepted the deväk before it could make any real progress, delaying it and alerting the swarm to its presence. These scouts didn't make the mistake of trying to deluge the intruder with poison, since the queen had already warned all her subject of the threat should any stumble across it in the woods. They were informed that the small black beetle that walks on two legs should be avoided at all cost because it was a bane to their existence. Instead of running the scouts tried to use their disproportionate strength to hold it still so that the flyer could deal with it. Unfortunately for the scouts that only made them slightly easier targets. 

As the intruder was striking the third ant in the brain, the flyers began to show up. Two came in from behind and tried to lift the deväk off the ground. Only to find that it was much too heavy to fly with. The deväk's marg tendrils wrapped up each of the flyers and squeezed, and unsurprisingly the ants were crushed under the superior strength of the marg. It finished off the last two scouts holding it, raising its total kill count by seven in less than thirty seconds.

You see my dear friends our deväk wasn't a perfect blend of its genetic parents, at least not yet. It's body had been altered very selectively, at random, which is what caused it such instabilities. The gene the marg had bestowed upon it were only applied to its tendrils. Making the ropes of nearly pure shapeshifter muscle almost as potent as the real thing. However, if the deväk was to survive it would need a more even blending, and a wider selection of genes. Deep in the very core of the deväk, some sleeping forgotten monster instinct cried out. Desiring to become the very apex of all life, to devour all and become a world eater.

It was this very instinct that the aväk had suppressed, believing they already reached the peak. But our bug would show them different. Our bug, the mangled little fighter would show everyone what it was to reach the apex. For now though, our bug still had an ant colony to destroy.

The near infant was usually potent in combat. The combination aväk, human, and marg began to develop a propensity for extreme violence. Plus the monster instincts of our deväk pressured our bug into taking no mercy, but not those of the aväk. No this time it was those of the marg. Margs loved combat almost as much as human flesh, and our bug took after them. Ripping, tearing, and eating its way through hundreds upon hundreds of desecrator ants, in the most brutal ways possible. It usually didn't even out right kill it opponents. Leaving them severely maimed, fully finishing off an opponent would take too much time. Instead it would just make sure that they wouldn't be able to get up again before moving on. Only letting the lucky ones dies from their injuries, all the rest were left bleeding in the dirt. Everytime the deväk began to tire it would just consume the defeated closest to itself, due to its aväk metabolism and unstable condition, it could recoup its lost strength in under a minute with all the food around. It was also getting bigger.

After an hour of near senseless slaughter, the deväk began to have trouble. It had long ago disabled all the flyers and most of the scouts had fled to protect the queen and all that was left outside were the tank like drones. All of which had extremely thick chitin, and were blocking entry into the hive. It needed some way to pierce the chitin, and since they had no eyes as far as the deväk could see, it was stumped. So it did what it was best at and began to feast hoping that something like the pulling would happen again. It ate and ate, and ate some more, but this time the deväk remain stumped. It had just decided that it would wait out the drones when a message popped up.

Our deväk still wasn't exactly sure what all that meant, but it felt good to level up and having more of something was a good thing, right? Well at least in it's mind it was. So deciding to be pleased with this almost monster relished in its slightly increased strength. The stats flowed into its increased stature of five centimeters. The chitin that covered our bug ever so subtly shifting. When the bug gained another centimeter or two gaps would begin to appear. This wasn't normal how it worked for bugs, but the deväk was different. Our little bugs chitin acted as an outer layer of skin instead of an exoskeleton. Unfortunately, even with its power up it still didn't think that it was strong enough to pierce those drones, but it did remember something.

Something that it hadn't ever tried before.

Its minor shapeshift ability. 

While snacking on more ants, since the level up had made more room in its stomach, the deväk held out the tendril that had a hole in the mouth. It began to push and pull its flesh back together. At least it tried to, but shapeshifting was harder than one might think. Still eating the deväk closed its eyes and began to think about its tendril that was still whole, then it imagined the injured one being whole. Still nothing. So it tired to let its instincts guide it.

Its tendrils felt weirdly more distinct in it's mind's eye, almost like every single cell could move individually. Trying to spread them out, the flesh on its tendril suddenly began to writhe. Knitting its flesh back together the deväk tried to take it a step further and it imagined the teeth growing bigger and becoming spear like. Which kind of worked, it had focused too much on the shape of the needle teeth, and instead a multi-pointed ampendage, it was left with a fleshy tooth tip spear. Which really wasn't a bad thing at all, although my friends, because of this initial failure our bug would develop a lifelong love for spears.

Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself.

The deväk finished his fourth meal of the morning and shifted the tendril that was a mouth into a second spear. It approached the nearest drone a bit cautiously before plunging both of its makeshift spear points into the side of the drones head. Sinking in like a knife through butter, the deväk almost jumped with glee, so happy that it could continue its slaughter. It methodically butchered all the drones, and even fended off a few scout patrols that were sent out in a vain attempt to stop it. It had long ago lost track of its total kills, but that really didn't matter to it all that much. All it really wanted to do was eat and fight, and these weaklings were perfect for it. That and gain levels.

For some reason the deväk had a very strong urge to gain as many levels as possible. This was one of the few gifts that Leon had left the deväk, it was much like its aväk instincts that told it devour, and its marg side love for combat. Leon had given the deväk a lust for leveling. Which is why it continued to storm the nest long after it was full.

Contrary to the mound of flesh on the outside, the actual nest went a few meters underground, and fortunately for the stuffed deväk it had two things going for it. Firstly its aväk heritage gave it excellent dark vision, and secondly it only had to take a bite of each corpse in order for its ability to progress towards a thousand. Which meant that it didn't have to gorge itself trying to eat every scrape. Unfortunately it was only at three hundred thirty seven, which it thought of as three lots and a bit, but it was nowhere near its goal when it stumbled upon the queen desecrator. 

A combination of the thick plating of the drones, the buzzing wings of the flyer, and it was twice the size of a normal scout gave away this purple and black striped bug as the queen. It looked distinctly more humanoid than the rest of its kin, flying upright it looked like it had four arms and two legs each with three fingers or toes. Kind of like if you took a pixie and gave it the shell of insect. The deväk leveled its spear-tendrils at the queen, expecting a quick fight it rushed in only to find that it missed the queen completely, and the queen had kicked it across the face. Not wanting to be crushed to death the queen flew out of reach. The kick didn't really do anything to the deväk besides piss it off. The queen didn't have a chance of beating this monster since it was immune to its greatest weapon, and it wasn't nearly strong enough to do any actual damage. So the best she could hope for was to piss off the deväk until it got tired and left.

Our young deväk however, wasn't getting enraged like the queen had wanted. No my dear friends our young deväk was actually beginning to enjoy itself, because it finally had a challenge. Something that wouldn't crumble before it like a sand castle to the deväk's wave. So our deväk kept attacking, undeterred trying to pull the queen out of the air. Slowly it began to dodge the kicks, and noticed the queen had a peculiar habit. No matter where it moved the queen always tried to stay between the deväk and the far wall. 

Not fearing the slippery queen, the deväk rushed the far wall, and the queen reacted. An odd screeching rung out in the deväk's head, but sometimes having a less than stellar mental capacity was useful, and the psychic attack was shrugged off. Without knowing what else to do the queen rushed to pull the deväk out of the way or get in front of it. Unfortunately for the queen, this is exactly what the deväk wanted and it proceeded to stab the queen repeatedly in the chest, while ripping one of her wings off with its arms. Panicking in its death throes, the queen acted off instinct and used the primary weapon of desecrator ants. Spitting up corrosive poison all over the deväk the queen expired, and the deväk was thrust into blinding agony.

 https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/21963/deviation

#literature #writing #reading #original story #original characters #deviation

[safelyinspace]

I'd like to introduce you all to my oc for Transformer who is this dumb, sub-species/distant cousin to Cybertronians due to shared features of sparks, transformation, energon digestion, and the like. It's really dumb, y'all don't have to read this if ya want. It's just something small I really wanted to do and one of my ocs I got really excited to make, So I y'all like her as much as I do. I'm probably redesign that glowing form due to now disliking it's looks heavily.

This sub species are sort of more energy based in regards to their abilities, consuming energon like their regular Cybertronian halves but at a much slower pace, so a single energon cube can last them months. These creatures can shapeshift into forms they have come into contact with/ are a short distance from, they cannot view it somewhere and hope to turn into it, it simply won't work, but when turning into these things they will turn into a form that reflects them. They can't shapeshift to match people/creatures specific looks or objects like lamps.

Like Cybertronians they share sparks in regards with anatomy, they use pure energon crystals to write using the Cybertronian alphabet runes, by doing this they can perform certain things. Such as making portals to places, locating more energon, casting small/large attacks, as well as growing organic matter they've consumed, summoning things, fixing objects, and healing. The more they change form/ or use their crystal the faster it begins to lose it's mass. Even if they have consumed energon, they can't use a cube/stick to perform these abilities, it must be a pure energon crystal.

This species tends to be more of a myth due to how rare it is to see one. What is known of them as legend is that they are beings that reflect Primus' light/ are blessed sparks without proper forms. Of lore they are considered sparkling/fairytales, beings that restore things rather than destory them, they will return the planet to a state of when it was thriving with life. Usually a single member of their kind will remain in charge of that planet to do so. This action is nearly always just them self appointing themselves it's caretaker, it's not official nor can they hold it like some form of power. Like a secret guardian, it's also what they like to consider themselves. Guardians that restore things in need of it. More often than not the reason they are so rare/myths is because once sparked, they'll flee their place of 'birthing'.

They're very grey when it comes to morals, for example Earth. If they see that humans are causing a planet to die, they would not hesistate to begin ridding the planet of them for the benefit of the other creatures and the Earth itself. The lucky part of this is Delta plays a part in this portion, for my AU/addition she exists as a halfing of this species.

Morbid part is any form they take, they can die in. The body will copy every aspect of that species during shifting, meaning they can die of a disease only affecting that species. Damage sustained in that form can also kill them, such they cannot be a fly and not expect to die from being squished. This is a weakness for them, taking charge in pairs is much more beneficiary since they can heal one another with their runes, but as a species they are solitary and don't seek each other out as conjuxes. Being sparked from a hot spot is the most common means of their creation, but they are able to crossbreed with other creatures sexually/asexually reproduce in the form of certain species, such as the whiptail lizard.

Delta herself (the oc above) is half human/half of the Cybertronian sub-species. Her carrier was orignally in 'charge' of earth, but her 'mother' quite fancied sentient Earth life so in the end she was looking more towards a solution to restore the planet without harming anything sentient. Sadly, Delta's mother died by taking damage in her human form, when she was about 4 years old, so this kid has very little idea on how to even use her ability. Most of her knowledge is just from a journal her mom left her in case anything would happen.

Delta is a bit apathetic due to her father distancing himself from her after her mother's death. Constantly gone on work businessman. Most of her 9 years after her mom's death was spent moving around constantly and being raised by nannies. Until age 13, when she was moved to a more ' permanent ' housing in Jasper, Nevada. So Delta's nearly always alone, which is why I happily figured she'd fit in Jasper, just a teen who sticks to their own little world, in q small quiet part of the worle. Also constantly being suspicious of the three kids who leave with odd vehicles after school.

She struggles to make bonds, and even then she's scared to because of what she is. Its heavily overwhelming for her as a character, but I quite adore it. So yeah, welcome to Delta, my kid who's angsty, and who's only friend is probably a pet, until I write about their interactions with the bots/other kids. Delta's current age is 15, and her birthday is June 10th.

If you ever wanna discuss my oc with me, or maybe toss me a scenario to write on them, I'd really love to talk about it. Even in DMs, I'd also love to discuss other ocs and how she'd maybe interact with them.

#transformers #maccadam #tfp #transformers prime #ocs #oc #orignal character #tf #transformers oc #tf oc #tf ocs #species #au #alternate universe #welcome to that odd hour