#shout out to anyone who reads all this and sees my live design process

[homoeroticvillain]

angie is... surprisingly annoying to design clothes for? cause as angel it isnt too bad just fancy suits usually with yellow worked in. but her casual outfits are hard to make look nice and distinct cause she just wear tanktops and the occasional band tee for smth youve never heard of

#she and luci actually dress pretty similarly with more sporty casual clothing #but i worry less about luci's clothes cause uhh id never admit to forgetting to develop a character but um luci is kinda on the backburner #but angie! i love her so dearly i want her casual clothes to look good #but an in universe joke that shes a fashion major but she dresses like someone's deadbeat dad #also i just dont think she's an accessories person so i cant do that #i guess i focus on her hair? should probably figure out a way to draw it more consistently #its gone through a few changes design wise so im pretty rough with drawing it still #ooo maybe some cool sneakers #maybe a few patches on her pants? to be the opposite of geist #geist has complicated shirt designs but simple pants so angie can have a simple shirt but complicated pants #and then adam has simple clothing but wears more accessories #and bianca! umm i need to fix her outfit to look nicer still #but also her not fitting into the group as nicely design wise would make sense #although actually bianca kinda brings it in with the hair maybe? since she has white hair + the bow she always has #maybe that makes sense #shout out to anyone who reads all this and sees my live design process #klepto talks to himself #klepto rants about ocs

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Beyond the Veil

Read on ao3 here

I cried writing this :)

CW: Major character death at the beginning (Sirius goes through the veil)

He heard the curse before he had time to register what had happened.

That familiar ‘Avada Kedavra’ that sent a cold chill up his spine and had his eyes scanning for Remus, Remus, Remus-

A flash of light, and Sirius was tossed backwards, straight onto a cold, dark stone floor. It felt pretty much identical to where he had just been, as he sprung up, feeling for his wand. Shit, it was gone, he’d have to go without…

Where was everyone?

He glanced around for a few moments, taking in the lack of Harry, Remus, anyone. Well, nobody until a voice sounded from behind him.

“You’re new.” Sirius whirled his head around, hands flying up and balling into fists. The person, skin sunken and faded, bags under their eyes and long, dishevelled hair, raised their hands defensively, in surrender. “Hey, don’t try to hurt me. I’m just as dead as you are.”

“Sorry?” Sirius said, voice fitting uncomfortably in his mouth, falling slightly differently. “I’m- I’m not… Listen, I- someone shouted a killing curse, I need to go and check on my- on Moony.”

“Um… yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry you have to hear about it this way, but you’re very much dead.”

“No, there’s no way…”

“Listen, we were all in denial at first. It’s a lot to process, going through the veil.”

“The veil?”

“Yeah, y’know the arch with all of the white? That’s the veil. It puts us here. We’re all dead, but not quite moved on.” Sirius felt cold panic grip him tightly. He had people. Remus, Harry, they needed him. He needed them.

“Is- no, I can’t- what about Remus, I-“

“I don’t know who Remus is, I’m sorry. Is there somebody alive you need to watch?”

“Watch?”

“Yeah. Take a look around.” Sirius, ignoring the panic and the sinking dread at the fact that the person sounded like they were right, he glanced around to find a group of people, all with slightly greyed skin, staring through mirrors that adorned the drab stone. “Pretty much everybody has someone to watch. That’s why none of us have moved on. We don’t want to yet.” They said with a shrug, Sirius watching as someone, a man, turned excitedly.

“My son’s about to graduate!” He said excitedly, before turning and stepping through the mirror. The person who had been talking to him turned back.

“It’s nice to be able to keep track of the people we love, y’know?”

“I thought… you only because a ghost if you agreed to it.” He said, confused, trying to pick everything apart. This couldn’t be real, there was no way.

“We’re not exactly ghosts.” They answered. “The rules of the veil are slightly different to the rules of normal death.”

“How do any of you know this?” They shrugged.

“People figured it out in the beginning, and it got passed down. We’re stuck here, but we can go into events for a brief period of time if we really want to. However, unlike ghosts, nobody living can see or interact with us. Each of us have our own mirrors.” They gestured around at the vast open space which made Sirius shiver. Or… should have made Sirius shiver. Every sense seemed slightly dulled, his head foggy. “So you’ll probably have one too, for… Remus, was it?” Sirius nodded, slightly dumbfounded. “Right, time works slightly differently here, so come with me. We’ll find your mirror and check on your person.”

“People.” Sirius answered, still refusing to think about it. There had to be a logical reason, there had to. “I have a- a godson, too.”

“Ah, okay. You get to decide who to watch and when. Come on.” They led him calmly down the stone, where the majority of the witches and wizards were staring down the intricately designed mirrors, a few who weren’t sat sharing stories. “What’s your name?” They asked.

“Uh… Sirius. Sirius Black.”

“Then this one’s yours.” They pointed, Sirius turning to an inky black and silver mirror. “I’m Amara. Go on, take a look.” Sirius turned, feeling much too out of it. For a moment, his own reflection stared back at him, finally seeing himself for the first time. His skin was just as greyed and textured as the rest of them, eyes completely devoid of light, and dark circles under his eyes.

Shit.

Still, as the mirror began to change, he decided against letting himself think about it. It swirled for a few moments, before settling on an image of a… graveyard? Sirius frowned, confused, as he stared at the image, eyes darting over the mass of gravestones until he realised who was at the centre and his stomach gave a terrifying lurch.

Remus.

“He’s…” Sirius wanted to go there. Amara gave a gentle tap on his shoulder.

“Step in. Go and see him.” They offered gently. He nodded, finally wanting to go and disprove all of this to himself. So, taking a deep breath, he forced his way inside. It was shockingly easy, a small ripple feeling like running his fingers gently over a pool of water. He shut his eyes as he went through, for some reason, opening them as the light gently hit him.

Remus was sat on his knees in front of a grave, one shaking hand reaching out to tap it, run his fingers across it. Sirius turned his head for a moment, everything in him standing on edge and freezing.

That was his name.

He stopped, panic overwhelming him. He was definitely on the fucking gravestone. Remus was sat at his grave, and the curse, the veil.

He had died.

He was fucking dead.

Dead.

D e a d -

Remus started to speak, voice grounding him the way it always did, making Sirius realising that he was on his knees beside Remus, able to see Remus’ stricken expression. The moment he saw it, everything else went forgotten, because Sirius could handle his pain, but not Remus’.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured softly, eyes sliding shut as he took a deep, shaking breath. “I’m- I’m so sorry. Sorry that you couldn’t be buried with James and Lily. Well, sorry that you couldn’t be buried, I guess. You just… you just disappeared, I don’t-“ his voice broke, pausing again, swallowing and pressing on, even though he really didn’t have to, Sirius’ heart had already shattered for him. “I’m sorry you don’t have a better headstone. That sounds stupid, but I remember your complaints when we were younger. It’s just- I had to fight the Ministry tooth and nail to even get you a fucking headstone, so everyone was overcharging. It- ah well, we got there in the end.” He tried with a weak smile, Sirius instinctively reaching out and resting his hand over Remus’, which was sitting on top of the headstone.

The sensation was faint, barely even there for Sirius, and he knew Remus couldn’t feel it at all, but it was a small comfort. He shut his eyes and forced himself to focus on the sensation, on Remus, because what if next time he tried he couldn’t feel anything at all? What if he-

“Fuck, we didn’t get enough time. We waited twelve years. Twelve bloody years. Merlin, the poets would love us. Still, I’d wait as long as it takes for just one more moment with you, my love.” The tears that had been steadily welling up in Remus’ eyes spilled over, Sirius feeling himself get choked up.

“Moony.” He forced out, moving his other free hand to rest on Remus’ cheek for a moment, a dull ache in his chest deepening. The tears ignored the intrusion, running straight past his hand, as Sirius hoped that all of that time before Azkaban, the moments that he remembered, would help him memorise this beautiful, beautiful man’s face. Everything started to fall out of Remus at this point, unable to stop any of it.

“Not seeing you again, though? Christ, Padfoot, I don’t think I can do it. Everything just seems pointless without you. If Harry wasn’t here, I wouldn’t see a reason to win this bloody war, not when it took you away from me, away from everybody. I mean, if I could trade places to keep you here, fuck, I would in a heartbeat. Because you light up the world, y’know that, love? It feels like someone’s just switched everything off, and now I’m stumbling through. Even Azkaban didn’t feel like this, because you were still here, in a way, and now…”

“I’m here, Moony, please, don’t cry, I’m right here.” Sirius begged, half with Remus and half with whatever the rules of the veil were to break just once and let him talk to Moony, say thank you, tell him he loves him just one more time-

“I’m sorry I didn’t see Bellatrix. I- I couldn’t stop her, I didn’t save you, I’m- I’m so sorry.” With that, he broke down completely, crumbling in front of the headstone, in front of Sirius. Sirius had heard Remus cry, multiple times, but this?

The sobs seemed to tear Remus just a little more each time, ripping through him and leaving him falling apart. Sirius could feel his own heart being ripped out with every one, guilt and anger at Bellatrix at war with the recent revelation that he was dead, and Moony was alone.

“You have saved me, darling, don’t you see that? You’ve saved me more than I thought anybody could.” Sirius tried, wishing more than anything that Remus could hear him. He was crying too, at this point, watching the man he loved more than anything, needed more than oxygen, who he had waited for so fucking long to be with have to be alone.

That’s when he felt himself start to slip away.

Something inside him knew that he was going back to the stone, back to staring through a screen and wanting more than anything to be back. Nothing was ever going to be the same, but if he could just exist alongside Remus forever, he would take it. No, he couldn’t, he was leaving.

“Fuck, no, not yet, please-“ he tightened his grip on Remus’ hand, the sensation ignoring this and getting weaker by the second. “Please, wait, I’m sorry, Moons, I don’t want to leave you-“ he ran his eyes desperately over Remus’ face. “I love you.” He whispered, before he was falling, spinning, landing back in the cold stone.

Remus was alone again.

#ouch #um #cw: major character death at the beginning #he falls through the veil #I’m in pain #like genuinely #physical pain #idk why I wrote this #wolfstar #sirius black #marauders #wolfstar oneshot #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot

[authoralexharvey]

INTERVIEW WITH A WRITEBLR — @vermontwrites

Who You Are:

Vermont || they/them/she/her

Writer with an avid love of museums, staring at paintings and reading murder mysteries. Mysterious and yet readable, oddly obsessed with drawing demons. I have a collection of half written in notebooks and too many sketchbooks to count.

What You Write:

What genres do you write in? What age ranges do you write for?

Adventure, fantasy, historical fiction, paranormal, sci-fi. New Adult and Adult.

What genre would you write in for the rest of your life, if you could? What about that genre appeals to you?

Fantasy. Magic and new worlds really invoke a sense of belonging for me. I want to explore medieval towns with dragons and potion stores. I adore magic and elves and the lure of those stories.

What genre/s will you not write unless you HAVE to? What about that genre turns you off?

Non-fiction. Facts are cool, but I'm not the one to write those things. I find it tedious and too time consuming to make sure every tiny thing is correct.

Who is your target audience? Do you think anyone outside of that would get anything out of your works?

Adults. Perhaps teens would enjoy my works as it may allow them to feel a sense of belonging, but my characters are adults and so I assume teens would find it harder to relate to them.

What kind of themes do you tend to focus on? What kinds of tropes? What about them appeals to you?

Enemies to lovers, found family and the good old only one bed. I live shoving two characters that may be icy toward one another into a situation that makes them a little closer. In love or in family bond.

What themes or tropes can you not stand? What about them turn you off?

Whumper. Is that a trope? Either way, I dislike it.

What are you currently working on? How long have you been working on it?

Golden Veins. Its been a series I've been planning and worldbuilding for for about 2 years.

Why do you write? What keeps you writing?

I write because I enjoy it. It lets me escape the real world. I keep writing because it keeps me from the boredom.

How long have you been writing? What do you think first drew you to it?

I used to write silly stories when I was 10, but then got serious when I was about 13. I liked the ability to be creative and put all of my ideas onto the page and find pride in my work.

Where do you get your inspiration from? Is that how you got your inspiration for your current project? If not, where did the inspiration come from?

Everywhere. TV shows, movies, other books. The inspiration for my current work is The Lion King as well as some other writers on AO3.

What work of yours are you most proud of? Why?

I'm proud of most of my works. I don't see any reason to pick one when everything I write brings me joy and pride.

Have you published anything? Do you want to?

No. And no. Maybe just on AO3.

What part of the publishing process most appeals to you? What part least appeals to you? Why?

I've never been interested in publishing my works. Maybe a short story, but the whole thing is tricky and just doesn't appeal much at all.

What part of the writing process most appeals to you? What part is least appealing?

Planning and character design. I love writing an outline and also writing about my characters. Character design is most enjoyable. I hate editing though, drives me to boredom.

Do you have a writing process? Do you have an ideal setup? Do you write in pure chaos? Talk about your process a bit.

I just open the document, put on some music and go for it. It's chaos, yes, but only in my mind.

Your Thoughts on Writeblr:

How long have you been a writeblr? What inspired you to join the community?

1 year. I joined at the recommendation of a friend.

Shout out some of your favorite writeblrs. How did you find them and what made you want to follow them?

@abalonetea - I don't recall how I found her work but the aesthetics alone made me follow. @woodhousejay - Again, my brain is mush, I don't remember how I found their account but I did. Their art is amazing.

What is your favorite part about writeblr?

Interacting with the community.

What do you think writeblr could improve on? How do you think we can go about doing so?

Just as I said above. We should all interact more with one another. I should likely try more.

How do you contribute to the writeblr community? Do you think you could be doing more?

I contribute my art, I suppose but I think I should reblog more when I can.

What kinds of posts do you most like to interact with?

Character introductions.

What kind of posts do you most like to make?

Art and character snippets.

Finally, anywhere else online we may be able to find you?

I have Instagram I hardly look at, but links to media I use is on my Tumblr.

Questions For Fun:

What is your favorite kind of museum to go to? Have you used anything you've learned from your visits in your writing?

My favourite museums are the ones with anything historical. Natural History Museums are quite enjoyable. I've learned a lot from museums, I use the things I've learnt more so in my art than my writing.

Do you have an OC you default to when drawing? What about them makes them so drawable?

I default to drawing Zazu or Silviano. I like their body types and the lines of their clothing and bodies.

What is your favorite murder mystery you've read? Why?

My favourite murder mystery I've read thus far is The Museum Mysteries, a series by Jim Eldridge.

#writeblr event #writeblr celebration #writeblr #iwaw

[ghoste-catte]

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

#answered #anonymous #writing advice #i guess? #am i qualified to give this? #no #but im doing it anyway

[nikkiwriteswords]

Hi! I would love to hear your thoughts/predictions/hopes for s3, now that we got the episode titles :D

Hey Nora!! Let me go grab my tua theory hat real quick. Spoiler alert, it looks exactly like the umbrella hat on the 3 right here:

Full disclosure, I've only got like a pinky toe in the tua fandom right now, but I'm still going to see what BS I can spin from these titles.

1. MEET THE FAMILY. The description on imdb is "The siblings get to know some more of the 43 children in an alternate timeline." So, I think this is pretty self-explanatory. Netflix likes to start things off with a bang, so s3 of TUA will probably be no different: we'll probably get a vague flashforward/flash-sideways to a "what if" scenario that will make sense by the last few episodes, and the rest of the episode will be sowing seeds for the s3 plot. The big question is, what family are we meeting? I think this episode will revolve around themes of family (no-brainer) and redefining the relationships between our Umbrella siblings in light of the season 2 finale, as well as their new Sparrow 'replacements'. To that end, initial Sparrow sibling parallels will be presented and subsequently complicated in this first episode. I also predict we'll see varying reactions to this alternate Reginald, as the Umbrella siblings are thrust into an outsider perspective that follows on from season 2.

2. WORLD'S BIGGEST BALL OF TWINE. This is going to be a multi-layered metaphor. I can feel it. It will no doubt refer to the plot that's about to unfold (is it an outside threat to both parties - the Umbrellas and Sparrows - from, say, the Commission, or is it more to do with the two rival Academies?), but I wonder if it also refers to the Wizard of Oz type scenario the Umbrella siblings find themselves in: they aren’t in Kansas anymore. (But you know what is in Kansas? The world's current biggest ball of twine.) Also kind of want to see Klaus knitting again in this ep - perhaps as a way to subtly re-address his ongoing addiction issues, especially now Ben is gone.

3. POCKET FULL OF LIGHTNING. This probably has to do with powers. Sparrow powers, Umbrella powers. There'll be a lot of new flexes in this season, so who this refers to is anyone's guess.

4. KUGELBLITZ. Here's where it starts to get interesting, because this title carries forward the subject of lightning from the last one. According to a very quick internet search, kugelblitz literally means "ball lightning" in German, and refers to both a) a glorified WW2 tank designed to take out aircraft (a certified Big Boi), and b) a theoretical black hole made from light/radiation rather than matter. So this is absolutely going to be a new, unseen power - probably from the Sparrows. Hopefully from Christopher because a cube executing a move named after a sphere just makes me chuckle. Ah, fun with shapes... But in addition, this power is probably going to pack a huge, debilitating punch to whatever narrative is underway at this point in the plot. I'll bet money that whoever wields this power is the tank character in their party or they are after this at least.

5. KINDEST CUT. This throws me back to the barber shop meta, I'm not gunna lie. Someone's going to get hurt, either physically or emotionally, and it's going to be the lesser of two evils. If it's a follow through on the barber metaphor, then Reggie will be the one to orchestrate it. Or, in a surprise twist, will he be the one gTetting hurt or being silenced? (Remember that cutthroat allegory that chases the siblings through the first season, particularly Allison and Klaus. It was about becoming voiceless.) 6.MARIGOLD. Big shout out to this post for spreading the word on the marigold symbolism. I'm pretty sure this will be Reginald backstory, which ties in with the creation of the Umbrella Academy. Also, because I'm a sucker for flower symbolism and reading into things, consider that marigolds:

a) fall into two families, the calendula which means "little clock" and the tagetes, which is named after the Etruscan prophet Tages. The Etruscans believed heavily in predestination - some events are set in stone, and cannot be changed. (Consider the way the apocalypse seems to always come for one set of siblings...) b) are named as such colloquially because they were offered in place of money to the Virgin Mary. (More divine imagery, and reference to a pure mother figure...) They are Mary’s gold. So maybe it’s a reference to Reginald’s wife, which would fit with the flashback scene we see in 1x10.  c) are a flower of duality. They have strong connections with the sun and resurrection, yet the marigold is thought to be a flower of grief because it blooms in autumn. Again, think about that flashback in the first season. At the end of the world and a wife dying, there was the promise of rebirth. d) It's also a very common flower. Remember, there's actually 43 siblings out there. We've only met 14.

Also Netflix loves to do this thing around the halfway point (usually episode 5/6) in a season they're producing. They'll switch up the narrative with a twist or turn that provides a new perspective. 7.AUF WEIDERSEHEN. Once again, a German connection. And, obviously, a goodbye. Considering the last season focused on Kennedy, are we going to get some earlier Cold War time-travel shenanigans? Or maybe WW2? I think Blackman has said something about the Berlin Wall, which is interesting. A country divided... Umbrellas and Sparrows allegory? But as an aside, I'm also kinda lowkey hoping it's a nod to Auf Weidersehen, Pet. If you don't know the show, here's the wiki summary for the first season:

Auf Wiedersehen, Pet is a British comedy-drama television programme about seven British construction workers who leave the United Kingdom to search for employment overseas. They find work on a German building site in Düsseldorf but despite promises of hostel accommodation, are forced to live in a small hut that reminds them of a World War II POW camp. The rest of the series is driven by the interactions and growing friendships between the various characters.

In episode seven, three of the “Magnificent Seven” visit an intercontinental hotel. Just saying. If s3 was to go this route, my money would be on Luther, Diego and Five getting up to shenanigans in this one. I miss 125 shenanigans.😢

8.WEDDING AT THE END OF THE WORLD. Honestly, I’m holding out hope that one of our fave siblings gets married. I feel like that’s a trap though... Actually I feel like it might actually be a trap. As in, this is when the rising action really kicks it up a notch. But also remember the title of 1x01: We Only See Each Other At Weddings and Funerals. Maybe the siblings get split up, possibly in episode 3/4, and they’re trying to reunite through episodes 5-7. Also thinking about hotels and apocalypses...  There’s something very fatalistic about these titles so far. I have a feeling that the B-plot or the subtext is going to reveal a lot more about Reginald’s history and the destruction of his world.

9. SIX BELLS. This makes me think of church bells, which is some nice continuity with the wedding of the last title. But church bells are rung for all sorts of reasons - as a call to worship, or in celebration or mourning, or to tell the time. (Thinking back to those marigolds suddenly.) But why six? Now I’m thinking of bell ringing (change ringing), and the way different bells have different cord lengths to control the time of their chimes. It’s a highly mathematical process. Will this episode be Five’s time to shine? Will he coordinate his siblings through a large attack? 10. OBLIVION. Does anything even need to be said about this one? Hotel Oblivion baby ✌✌ Any further theorising would require more knowledge of the coming plot tbh.

Edit: I wrote most of this at 2am, so I’ve just tidied it up a little. Thank you for the ask, Nora! This was fun to think about. 

#nikkiwrites #tua meta #tua s3 meta #aka i shake a magic 8-ball and see what comes up #tua season 3 #nikkianswers #softforklave #tua s3 spoilers #the umbrella academy #spoilers

[ad1thi]

the memories bring back (you)

part of the 1000 lives ‘verse, aka my: Bucky and Tony are soulmates and Tony gets captured by HYDRA and they fall in love but then after TWS Bucky escapes but Tony doesn’t and now Bucky is desperately trying to find Tony and save his soulmate - verse.

this is a timestamp of Tony and Bucky’s time at HYDRA. reading the first fic in the series is recommended but not necessarily required to understand this fic. you can always read this one first and then read the first fic later on

//

13 kills (1991)

The boy appears to be attempting to escape, as he presses his feet against the wall and tugs at his chains over and over, even though it must be hurting him to do so. Briefly, the Asset wonders if it should explain to the boy that escape is not possible, that HYDRA does not allow for such things, but it has not been told to speak to the boy, so it says nothing.

“You could help, you know,” the boy spits out, and it takes a couple of seconds for the Asset to realise that the boy is addressing it. “Bet that metal arm of yours would come in real handy right about now. My father isn’t going to pay my ransom, he never does, so you might as well KILL ME!” The boy tilts his head back and shouts the last two words, talking to people who aren’t in the room.

“What does this kind of job pay anyway?” the boy asks. “Is it really worth it? Stealing teenagers from their dorm rooms? You must really be important to them if they fitted you with a prosthesis like that.” The boy eyes its metal arm, but unlike when the Scientist used to eye the arm, there is no shudder down the Asset’s spine. It doesn’t feel the urge to flinch or cower away because there’s no spite in the boy’s look - for all the vitriol he’s spitting - only curiosity.

“I would love to get my hands on that thing,” the boy says, more to himself than anyone else, before giving the Asset a slow once-over, “I’d like to get my hands on all of you, if you weren’t some sort of creepy kidnapper. Rhodey’s gonna lose his mind when he finds out I have a hard-on for my kidnapper. This is some Stockholm Syndrome type shit.”

The boy looks like he’s about to say more, but he’s interrupted by another presence in the room. The Asset looks away from the boy, and it’s back instantly stiffens when it recognises the Handler. It jumps to its feet, sticking a foot out to still the rattling metal bed-frame, and instantly assumes parade-rest.

“At ease, soldier, ” the Handler says in an amused tone, a half smile on his lips. He doesn’t, however, make any motion for the Asset to sit, or any indication that his words are any more than just that, words, so the Asset remains standing, hands clasped behind its back.

“Anthony Stark,” the Handler says, crouching down on his knees, and reaching out to grip the boy’s jaw firmly. To his credit, the boy stares defiantly back at the Handler, and the Asset thinks that if it weren’t for the hand pressing into his cheeks, the boy might actually attempt to spit on the Handler.

“Pierce,” the boy musters out, in between gritted teeth, “If you wanted to talk, you could’ve just called ahead. There was no need for all this.” The boy waves his hands around, as best he can since they’re being weighed down by chains, “I would’ve scheduled you in.”

“Now we both know that isn’t true,” the Handler says, almost fondly, “What was it you said when I sent Fury looking for you last month? That you’d keep us on hold just to watch the line blink. That’s highly unprofessional Tony, surely your father taught you better than that.”

The boy, Tony, attempts to smile. “He did. Never did put much stock into the old man’s lessons. Bit too old fashioned for my taste.”

The Handler tsks, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him, my boy. It’s a shame, because he’s no longer around to drop those pearls of wisdom on you. I would really start cherishing those memories. What is that saying, ‘you don’t know what you have until it’s gone’?’”

The Handler drops his grip on Tony’s jaw, and pushes himself off the floor, dusting his knees. Some of the dirt falls on Tony’s face, and Tony shakes his head vigorously, closing and opening his eyes rapidly. He’s shaking, much like he was when the Asset first entered, but this time, the Asset thinks it’s from anger.

“Asset!” The Handler barks, and it stiffens. “Mission Report. December 16, 1991.”

“Mission: Extraction and Execution. Primary Target: Super-soldier serum,” the Asset intones, “Secondary Target: Howard Stark. Collateral: Maria Stark.”

Tony inhales a sharp breath, exhaling in a splutter like he’s being choked, but the Handler pays him no mind, so the Asset continues.

“Serum extracted at 0200 hours. Secondary target neutralised. Collateral neutralised. Return to base at 0500 hours. Mission successful.”

The Handler nods, once at the Asset, and another time, more firmly, at Tony.

“Like I said,” the Handler says to Tony, “you never know what you have until it’s gone.” Tony doesn’t seem to be paying the Handler any mind, instead glaring at the Asset, and doesn’t even notice when the Handler leaves the room. There’s an outwardly calm that’s overtaken Tony that it is stark contrast to the way he was shivering with anger, and yet, the Asset does not think he is actually calm, not in the slightest.

“You killed my mother, you son of a bitch,” Tony finally murmurs, “I’m gonna rip your heart out and feed it to you.”

**

15 kills (1992)

It is unusual for the Handler to oversee the defrosting process. Normally, when the Asset is brought out of cryo, it is only the Scientist that is waiting for him, flanked by two agents. Occasionally, the Doctor will make an appearance too, if it has been particularly long since the Asset has been wiped.

The Chair means that the Asset does not remember much of anything, but it has come to recognise the tug in it’s gut, that informs it that something is amiss. It should probably inform the Doctor of this malfunction, but it is a feeling that has served the Asset well on previous Missions, so it does not say anything.

It opens its eyes despite the cold, blinking away the remnants of ice that have collected on it’s eyelashes, and waits until it is ordered to sit up. It is when the Asset sits up that it notices the Handler, and the boy standing beside the Handler - arms handcuffed behind him and an old cloth shoved into his mouth.

There is something vaguely familiar about the boy, but the Asset does not know what.

When the Handler realises that he has the Asset’s attention, he raises the hand not resting on the boy’s shoulder, wiggling his fingers. The Handler is smiling, and muttering something to the boy that is causing a complicated amount of emotions on his face, and even makes the boy shuffle forward as if to approach the Asset - before the Handler pulls him back.

“Dr. Barnett, would you mind so kind as to prep the Asset for the Chair?” the Handler asks, even though his tone suggests that it isn’t a request. “I do believe our newest guest requires a demonstration on the repercussions of non-compliance.”

The Asset stiffens ever so slightly at the mention of the Chair but otherwise makes no indication that it is aware of what is happening.

It has been defrosted in the Recalibration Room, so it is simply a matter of stepping out of the cryo chamber, and walking across the room to the Chair. Without instruction, the Asset spreads out its hands and allows itself to be strapped down, relaxing its jaw and clenching down on the plastic bit that is fitted between its teeth.

The Chair rocks back ever so slightly, just as the harness comes down and attaches itself to both of the Asset’s temples, and the Asset involuntarily closes its eyes as electricity courses through its body, forcing it to arch it’s back and lift it’s head up in a silent scream.

“You see, my boy?” it dimly hears the Handler, almost inaudible over the sound of blood rushing through its ears, “Zola wanted us to Wipe you, turn you into an automaton just like Barnes. But I knew better, I knew that there were easier ways to gain your allegiance.”

The pain ebbs and flows, as the Scientist modulates the dials. The Asset is granted a small reprieve, no longer than a breath, before the electricity is ramped up again.

“Stop! Can’t you see you’re hurting him? Stop please! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Just as quick as the electricity is increased, it is abruptly stopped, and the Asset sags against the Chair, taking big, heaving breaths through the bit in its mouth.

“So we have a deal then?” the Handler asks, and a voice that the Asset cannot place replies, “Yes. You stop, you stop torturing him like this, and I’ll do whatever you want. No more fights.”

The Handler is looming over the Asset’s line of sight, presumably having moved closer while the Asset was being Wiped, and he’s smiling.

“Brilliant,” the Handler is looking at the Asset, but the words are meant for someone else. “First order of business - you’re going to upgrade the Asset’s arm. I don’t think it’s been worked on since the 1950s, and that’s an awfully long time, don’t you think?”

“Soldier,” the Handler says, and now the Handler is talking to the Asset, “It’s time you met your new partner in crime. Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”

The Asset spits out the bit, because its hands are still strapped down, and repeats, “Anthony Edward Stark, Designation: Assistant.”

Next to the Handler, the boy, the Assistant, attempts to smile, but it comes out as a grimace.

continue reading on ao3!!

#my writing #buckytony #winteriron #ironwinter #bucky/tony #bucky x tony #bucky barnes/tony stark #bucky barnes x tony stark #soulmates AU #1000 lives (for you) au #the memories bring back (you) #HYDRA tony stark #HYDRA bucky barnes #this is almost at 1k hits on ao3!! #so i thought i'd bring it to tumblr #so that more people know it exists!!!

[smutandfluffohmy]

His Sweater #5

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairing: George Weasley X Slytherin!Reader A/N: Sorry this is short and WAY behind schedule. I recently moved and I think the house is haunted so that’s fun + I had this written out with all the dialogue and my brain kept shutting down and the other parts.

Wait! Read it from the start! (Part 1) Everything is better in pairs (Part 2) The (golden) trilogy (Part 3) How far will we go? (Part 4)

The bell over the door announced my arrival. George and Fred looked over from the display in front of them, George’s face lit up a he signaled me over. “Great you’re here! Can you please tell Fred that a bed design for the love potions is a bad idea.” George said pointing at the drawn out plans they had in front of them, the unmistakable smell of amortentia filled my nose. All I could smell was George and to my annoyance Fred as well, this is solely do to his obnoxiously close proximity to me and not because I liked him as anything more than a friend.

I turned from the design to my boyfriend then to Fred who for a brief moment had hope I would side with him. He thought the idea was funny and clever. “It’s a terrible idea Fred.” I said looking up at him, his brief moment of hope now long gone.

Grunting Fred turned away from the two of you “Yea I reckon if I was shagging her she’d agree with me too” he mumbled under his breathe a bit cross that now instead of a bed it would be something of a water fountain to display the love potion.

“Maybe get better taste and I’ll agree with you.” I said calling out to him as he continued to move things around the shop, flipping me off in the process.

George laughed taking my hand in his and tugging me along behind him “Come let me show you around” Dragging me up stairs I had to be careful not to trip over the various things that were laid on the floor, after all I didn’t know what would explode or burn half my hair off. “This is where we are going to put the explosives.” George said pointing at a stack of boxes labeled with unreadable handwriting I we're sure to belonged to Fred.

“How much for the canary creams Mr. Weasley?”

Leaning against the railing George smiled at me “I reckon a night together will cover all your costs.” he said winking.

A loud throw up sound came from behind me making me jump slightly “OI people can hear you!” Fred said carrying a box in his hands “Bloody disgusting kids these days” He said shaking his head walking in between the two of you, I wondered who Fred fancied and if I could set them up. Or perhaps get him a new hobby, something to keep him busy long enough to get some alone time with George.  “Come on we should get going” Fred shouted at George beckoning him to hurry up.

I looked from Fred to George “To where?” I asked.

George huffed remembering the plans for today “We got to finish up some things for the shop.” he said rolling his eyes at the thought of it “Want to come with?” he said with a smile although he was sure he already knew my answer.

They put down the money for the shop but they still had to sign things like the name copyright etc. etc. no matter how many times George explained it to me I couldn’t help but be bored at the mention of wizard legalities “To sit in a stuffy room and discuss business transactions? Oh how could I turn that down?” I said back to him with the same smile.

“Fair enough” George laughed kissing my forehead.

Fred threw a heavy instruction manual at me, the sound it made as it made its way through the air let me know that it was going to hurt. George grabbed the manual before it hit me straight in the face, I’ve seen him play quidditch matches plenty of times but something about him saving me from a split lip made my heart jump.  “Here you can read the instructions while we’re gone!” Fred shouted not even turning to see where the manual landed.

George offered me the manual that I accepted with a smile thanking him silently. Reading the cover I started flipping through the complexly simple instructions “We live in the Wizarding world and you bought from Ikea!” I said looking from George to the back of Fred’s head.

“You’re brilliant you’ll figure it out!” Fred shouted as he dragged George along looking at the time wondering if they would be late.I waved bye at George as Fred dragged him past the store windows that were still bare.

“Oh!”I heard from the busy streets, George knocked on the window to get my attention “Is dropping by!” He shouted.

I scrunched my eyebrows, pointing at my ears to tell him I didn't hear “Who?” you shouted back.

“E- -O-A-N” He shouted enunciating his words which only left me more confused, before I could ask him again Fred popped along side George grabbing him.

“Furry!” Fred said dragging him along.

I was left there wondering what he meant but no way to knowing, hopefully it was nothing of importance. The pieces were spread out as I got to working on putting it together. Flipping through the manual I wondered if I could use my wand to build this but knew that if I did the ministry could come knocking for using magic on muggle items. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear the bell ring on the front door.

“Oi why do I know you?” a voice said from behind me startling me making me drop the screws I had in my hand.

“Merlin’s beard hasn’t anyone ever told you that sneaking up on people is rude?” I said putting my hand over my chest trying to calm down, this must be who was dropping by.

He looked at me intently “Sorry. But why do you look so familiar?” he said trying to figure out why he knew me.

Shrugging my shoulders, there wasn’t many places I went it was home, Hogwarts, home, hanging out with George and Fred, Hogwarts and it was all a continuous cycle even after putting school “I don’t know? Did you go to Hogwarts?” I asked. 

His face lit up at the mention of Hogwarts “Yes! What house were you in? Wait let me guess.” He said squinting at you, sitting next to me to get a closer look at me  “Not Gryffindor I knew everyone there. Hmmm you don’t seem the Hufflepuff type. Ravenclaw?” He said confidently.

“You’d make a bloody awful sorting hat. I was in Slytherin” I said emphasizing on ‘was’ because although I weren't ashamed of my old house I was also not in the particular mood to defend it.

He scoffed at me “A Slytherin huh? Birds got George under some spell.” He mumbled sliding away from me.

“The bird can hear you!” I said huffing grabbing the manual pretending to read through it.

“That’s why I said it!” He said rolling his eyes at me “Say how did your kind get in hoots with George and Fred?” he asked stretching his legs in front of him, his jeans more than likely getting dirt on the floor I was more than certain Fred and George didn't clean.

I looked from his jeans to him “My kind?” You asked cocking an eyebrow at him.

“You know” He said doing snake motions with his hands, putting his hands down as he pushed up his sleeves.

“And what’s wrong with” I said doing the same snake motions back at him. I couldn’t believe I was sitting on a more than likely dirty floor arguing about a school house.

He made a dismissing hand motion “You know. You lot are You-know-whos harem.” He said with ease but looking at me intensely to see any reaction, even the slightest of one.

I harshly kicked the sole of his shoe causing his to stop laying on his hands and moved to crossing his legs “You're as daft as you look” I said pointing at him with thee screwdriver I held in my hand.

“Well that’s what everyone says about Slytherin.” He said pushing the screwdriver away from being pointed at him with his finger.

“You know what they say about Gryffindor?” I said placing the screwdriver down next to me harshly, making a loud noise as it hit the hardwood floor.

“Yea that we’re awesome!” He said scoffing with a smile, not seeing how they could say anything negative at them.

“No that you lot just stand around in your common room in a big circle jerk” I said tightly screwing on a nail, making the wood make a slight noise letting me know that I can’t keep going unless I wanted the wood to split.

He laughed “Maybe if you’re lucky we'll invite you to the next one” He said giving me a big smile. Were all Gryffindor’s this frustrating? 

“Sniffling idiot.” I scoffed at him, debating on just getting up and leaving.

He shrugged leaning back on his hands, looking at me “I just tell it how it is.” he said simply, as if he just didn't insult me.

“This is why people don’t like Gryffindors” I said, becoming overly aware I was on the verge of bickering.

“You like them enough to be snogging one.” He shot back, the bickering line had been crossed but at least it wasn’t me the one that crossed it.

“Touché.” I sighed unable to deny it  “Y/n. Y/l/n.” I said stretching out my hand to him.

He took my hand and shook it “Lee. Jordan.” he said.

Right that’s why his voice sounded so familiar, he did Quidditch commentary the entire time we were at Hogwarts. “Didn't you use to carry a giant spider around?���

“Tarantula. And yes Ned comes with me everywhere.” He corrected me, I should also tell him I liked his Quidditch commentary but something told me that if I mentioned Quidditch he wouldn’t stop talking.

However the only thing I could say was “Cool.” I didn’t know enough about spiders to talk about them and frankly I was scared he would take it out of his pocket if I showed any interest “Want to help me build an Ikea shelf?” I offered point at all the spread out pieces on the floor. 

“Brilliant idea but I’m afraid I don’t want to.” He smiled laying down on the floor besides the pieces. I laughed sitting opposite to him and began trying to assemble it. The two of you began talking and either of you often wondered why you weren't friends in school but then he would mention Gryffindor or I would mention one of the younger Slytherins I would tutor and the unspoken question got a loud answer.

The bell above the door rang, causing Lee and I to look over to be met with two overly tall and overly happy red head. “Great you guys met!” George said walking over to the two of you.

Lee smiled side hugging me like he’s known me for years, and somewhere inside me I kind of felt the same way “I like her she’s got spunk.” He said looking up at George.

“Get your own girlfriend Lee” George said extending a hand to me, that I gladly took.

Lee shook his head, his hair bouncing around his face “I make no promises!” He looked up at George, catching a glimpse of the other red head “Fred! Mate long time no see!”He shouted jumping to his feet.

Fred looked at the shelf halfway assembled laying on the floor “I reckon the Ikea shelf didn’t get finished?” He shouted.

Lee let out a loud laugh “Sorry I was too busy charming her away from you!” He said looking back at George.

“Bugger off.”He laughed flipping Lee off playfully, pulling me into his arms squeezing me tightly but lovingly as my nose pressed against his chest. “Was he really charming you?” He asked looking down at me, for a second a pang of insecurity filled him. He’s always been second to Fred could it bee possible to be second to his friend this time?

“Oh yes immensely, I’m rather smitten by him now.” I smiled up at George playing with the collar of his sweater and for a brief moment he forgot all of his doubts .

George smiled down at me “Before you go running off with Lee I have something I wanted to ask you.” He said rubbing a stray eyelash off my cheek. “Can you be my plus one to my brothers wedding?”

“Lee finally proposed to Fred?”I smiled looking over my shoulder to look at the two boys running around the store.

George laughed “Not yet and not him” he said shaking his head.

“Ron!?”

George let out a loud laugh that caught me by surprise “Ha I don’t think there's enough Firewhisky in the world for that to happen. But no it’s Bill and Fleurs wedding.” he said between laughter.

I looked up at him confused trying to remember where I’ve heard that name before. I was positive I’ve heard the name Fleur before but couldn’t remember why or where. “Fleur? Oh the girl that competed in the tri-wizard tournament?” I asked George hoping I was right.

He nodded “The one and only.So will you go?” He asked playing with the cuffs of my sleeves worried that I might say no and he was going to have to sit alone at his brothers wedding.

I scrunched up my face pretending to think about it “Hmm I’m going to be busy that day but I think I can squeeze you in.” I said standing on my tiptoes stretching to give him a kiss on the lips which caused George to stand taller making me stretch more. Grabbing him by his collar I dragged him down to my height kissing him softly on the lips.

“Oi stop that. You see what I have to deal with?” Fred shouted, turning to Lee pointing at us to make sure he was seeing what he had to deal with everyday. Admittedly George and I keep trying to sneak away from him but somehow he always finds us.

“The audacity!” Lee said laughing as he helped Fred look for something inside a couple of boxes.

#george weasley #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #lee jordan

[pumpkaaboo]

Here's chapter 1 of the Revolutionary Girl Utena/Neon Genesis Evangelion crossover I've been working on with @nerd-dot-jpeg! It's been really fun to work on so far! Full text under the cut.

“Attention, due to the special state of emergency declared for the Toukai region and the surrounding mid-Kanto area, an evacuation has been ordered. Please proceed to your designated shelter immediately.”

Utena stretched nervously, bouncing into a lunge with her left leg forward, then her right, before standing up straight and pulling her arms to the side one at a time, relishing in the weight of her thick black jacket. She grunted with exertion, then sighed, leaning back against a nearby telephone pole. “She’s late…”

For once, the city’s streets and monstrous buildings of concrete, glass, and steel were silent. No cars honked in tune with the screaming of their drivers caught in a traffic jam, no neighbors shouted at each other from their windows, and all the speaker systems that usually blared a cacophony of arguments for why Utena needed countless products she had never heard of only repeated that same toneless message in perfect sync. Not even the pigeons were around to make noise.

“Attention,” the message looped, “Due to the special state of emergency declared…”

Utena pulled her long pink hair into a ponytail. Then she took it out. She kicked an empty soda can into the air, bouncing it between her feet. She made a game out of not letting it hit the ground, before finally sending it soaring to a perfect landing in a nearby trash can. She gave herself a moment to celebrate her shot, but the excitement faded quickly, leaving only a gnawing anxiety behind. Then she put her hair back up.

“Maybe she got delayed by the Angel… I should be out there, doing something… I came all this way to help, but I’m useless now!”

With a growl of frustration, Utena sprang back to her feet and started doing lunges again.

Suddenly, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She whipped around, and met the gaze of a girl with dark skin and long violet hair that cascaded down to her waist. Her green eyes seemed to almost glow in the afternoon light, and she stood perfectly still in the middle of the intersection, the heat distortion causing her form to waver like a mirage, a trick of the light. Something about her seemed familiar, somehow.

For some reason, she reminded Utena of a doll.

Perhaps it was the way her arms hung limply, languid, at her sides, perhaps it was her empty expression, perhaps it was the fact that Utena had been staring at her, frozen, for at least twenty seconds and she hadn’t blinked-

“Attention, due to the special state of emergency-”

Utena jumped, the announcement snapping her out of her trance. She glanced up at it, then back at the girl, who hadn’t moved. She took a step forward. “Hey-”

You need to get to an evacuation shelter, she wanted to say, it’s not safe here, but she was cut off by the sounds of a revving engine and the screeching of tires against pavement as a bright yellow car skidded to a stop in front of her, almost tipping over itself in the process.

The driver’s-side door opened, and a woman in sunglasses and a red military jacket leaned out. “Sorry to keep you waiting! Utena Tenjou, right?”

Utena blinked, then nodded. She stood on her toes, leaning to the side of the car to try and catch a glimpse of the girl again, but the intersection was empty save for the steaming tire tracks and smell of burnt rubber.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing I just… I thought I saw someone.”

The woman followed Utena’s gaze, then shook her head. “Well, whoever it was, they must have left. I hope they get to a shelter in time… You should get in, by the way. I hate to rush you, but, well… unforeseen circumstances and all that.”

As if on cue, a thunderous boom rang out from somewhere in the distance, as a shockwave rippled across the city. Utena stumbled, catching herself on the car. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry I had to make you come all this way at such a time… it’s rotten luck, really.”

The woman grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I’m Misato Akagi, by the way, and I’ll be your commanding officer from here on out.”

Utena nodded, climbing into the passenger’s seat and buckling her seat belt. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Akagi.”

Misato groaned. “Please, Ms. Akagi is my wife. You can call me Misato.” She took in Utena’s poorly-disguised shock and laughed as she pulled out of her “parking space”. “Let me guess: first time you’ve ever met a real live gay person, huh?”

“I- well I mean- I’d heard of- and of course there must have been some that I just didn’t know they were- but-”

“Don’t worry about it. Just treat us like you would any other couple and we’ll get along fine.”

Utena nodded. “Got it, Ms. Misato.”

“Hey, you’re getting it! By the way, I need to make a call now that I have you, but is there anything you need to say first?” Utena shook her head. “Great, this’ll just be a couple minutes.”

Utena took this as her cue to tune Misato out and stare out the window. Just over the mountains, she could see a couple of silver dots moving through the sky.

“Hey, Ritsuko, it’s me. I have the Sixth, and we’ll make it to the car shuttle train in about twenty minutes, assuming the Angel doesn’t fall right on top of us, of course. Make sure it’s ready.” Some muffled words came through the speaker, but Utena couldn’t make them out. “Of course I don’t doubt you, I just wanted to check to be safe… oh, and make sure Ohtori knows we’re on our way, too. He’s been quite vehement about making sure this one gets to HQ ASAP. Love you too, see you soon, bye!”

Misato hung up the phone with a loving sigh, her eyes taking on a relaxed softness as they returned to the road. Utena glanced at the phone, then back at Misato. “Your wife?” she asked.

“The one and only Ritsuko Akagi, the sharpest mind this side of the Andromeda galaxy. God, I love that woman.”

I can tell, thought Utena. Now that she’d had a bit of time to get accustomed to the idea of two women being… together, she could appreciate what the romance had clearly done for Misato. She fought back a pang of envy at the adoring expression on Misato’s face. Maybe someday, when I find my prince…

They drove in silence for a few minutes, barring the occasional shockwave from the battle with the Angel raging on in the distance. A blinding light cast the entire valley they were driving through into shadow, but it was gone as quickly as it came, leaving nothing but a plume of smoke behind.

Utena shifted in her seat. “I hope the pilot’s okay…”

Misato grimaced. “It’s Saionji-san this time, he’s tough, he’ll be fine,” she said, unconvincingly. The silence, which before had been uncomfortable, was growing unbearable. “So!” Misato said, clearly in a desperate attempt to break it. “From what I’ve read in your file, we actually have a lot in common!”

“Really?”

“Yep! Antarctica, Second Impact, right?”

Utena stared. “You too? I didn’t realize anyone else…”

“As far as anyone knows, the two of us are the only survivors, and we were both kids whose parents worked there. Kind of a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Definitely. Um, if it’s not too forward of me to ask, how long were you…?”

“Oh, I wasn’t in cryostasis like you were, so I didn’t lose any time. Luckily, the protective capsule my dad put me in got found floating out at sea before I died of dehydration, but as a result of my experiences, I was unable to speak for several years.”

“Oh.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago, and I’m totally fine now!” Misato flashed Utena a grin. “What about you? What’s your story? If you feel comfortable sharing it, that is.”

“Um, this is going to sound kinda silly.”

“Don’t worry about it! This is a bonding exercise, anything goes.”

“Well… it was a prince.”

“Wait, what? What was?”

Another shockwave tore through the car, stronger this time, or maybe they were just closer to the source. Utena cried out in alarm, and she could see that Misato’s hands had tightened on the steering wheel.

“After the wing my parents were in collapsed, but before the big explosion, there was a prince who came to me. Like, right out of a fairy tale. He was shining, and he smelled like roses. He told me to never lose my strength or nobility, even when I grew up, and then put me in the pod and sealed it. Um, but my memories of that day are pretty fuzzy, so I don’t really know where he came from or… anything else.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, seven years in cryostasis will do that to you.” Misato flashed Utena a reassuring smile.

Utena returned the smile, and then, emboldened by Misato’s encouragement, continued. “Well, after that, I decided that I wanted to become a prince who saves people just like he did for me, so I started dressing like a boy, and I adopted a chivalrous lifestyle… and well, here I am now.”

Misato’s eyes shone. “That’s so cool! It really gives me hope, you know, that people still choose to be brave and kind to each other, even after everything… oh, and by the way, the school you’ll be attending has a mandatory dress code, but one of the perks of being an Eva pilot is that you get to wear whatever you want, so you won’t have to fight the teachers on the whole uniform thing.”

“Really? That’s a relief.” Utena rubbed her fingers absentmindedly, protectively, against her jacket’s thick sleeve, enjoying the texture. “My last school had this crazy guidance counselor… I swear, you put one toe over these invisible lines people made up about what boys and girls can and can’t do, and everyone loses their minds.”

Misato winced. “Tell me about it…”

“Oh! Oh right, of course you’d know all about that-” Utena flailed around verbally once more, suddenly remembering Misato’s… situation. “Sorry, I just forgot-”

“Hey, no worries. I guess you could say we’re birds of a feather in a lot of ways, huh?”

“...Yeah, I- I guess we are.”

“By the way, how would you feel about-”

Whatever Misato was about to say next was cut off by another shockwave, this one even stronger than the last. But this time, instead of dissipating harmlessly, it was followed by an avalanche of boulders thrown into the air from when a nearby mountain had- oh dear god, it had exploded.

Misato shouted with alarm and slammed on the brakes, just barely avoiding a crash with the boulder in front of them. Several more impacted with the road behind them, trapping the car right where it was. A roar shook the mountains, and the pair slowly turned their gazes toward the source.

There was an Evangelion standing there in a combat stance, prog knife in hand, its metallic chassis gleaming blood-red in the harsh afternoon light, with green and gold accents shimmering like stars through the heavy smoke rising from the ashes of what used to be a mountain. And standing across from it…

“That’s an Angel?” Utena asked, horror keeping her voice from rising above a whisper. Misato gave a terse nod.

The thing was titanic , almost half the size of the mountain that it and the Eva had just wiped off the face of the earth. It had six sinewy arms and no legs or head, and a red orb portruded from its back. It roared once more from its many gaping, salivating jaws, one at each shoulder and probably several more where Utena couldn’t see, before making another charge at the Eva. The massive robot sprang into action, dodging the Angel’s hands and slashing at it with its prog knife again and again, but was repelled each time by some sort of shimmering orange field.

“I… I’d seen the videos, but…”

Misato didn’t take her eyes off the fight. “Nothing can prepare you for the real thing. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. We need to get out of this car; it’ll be of no protection for us if either of them hurls something — or, god forbid, themselves — over here.”

Utena nodded with agreement, and together they exited the car and climbed on top of a nearby boulder, hoping for a better vantage point. Utena pulled her knees to her chest. “So that’s gonna be my duty next, huh?”

“If we survive this…” Misato’s voice was barely a whisper; she didn’t seem to have noticed that she had spoken aloud. “You’ll be added to the rotation of pilots for Unit R05, yes.”

“Ah.”

They sat together in silence for a few more minutes, watching the fight. The combatants seemed to be at a sort of standstill, with the Angel unable to pin down the Eva for long enough to bite into it, and the Eva unable to pierce the Angel’s strange orange shield.

Misato’s eyes narrowed. “Saionji’s sync rate must be down, if he can’t get through that A.T. field. Argh, I knew we should’ve prepared Miki instead, but he insisted-”

The Angel got a hit on the Eva's face.

There was a moment of sudden, deafening silence.

And then the Eva screamed.

Giant steel-plated arms grasped at its head, metallic and organic screeches blending together. Blood-red spikes shot out of the chassis, fracturing it in several places. Misato cursed and whipped her phone out of her pocket, hastily pressing a few buttons. The face of an intense-looking blonde woman popped up on the screen, with a white hospital room in the background.  “He’s been the pilot for too long, psychological contamination is setting in! R05’s going berserk!” Misato shouted.

“We know that!” the other woman hissed.

“So what are our options?”

“We’ll have to shut down R05 and send D10.”

Misato sucked in a breath. “No… Anthy’s still injured! She can’t pilot in her state!”

“Do you have a better plan?” the woman shot back.

MIsato glared at her feet.

The blonde woman turned to her side. “That’s it then. Anthy, you’re being deployed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Utena gasped in horror as a wheeled gurney came into view of the camera. There was a girl on it-the same girl she had seen in the intersection, but her purple hair was curled into a tight roll all the way around her head, and she wore a pair of round glasses, and almost every inch of her skin was covered in bandages, some of them already showing red with blood soaking through. The girl seemed to mentally steel herself, before sitting up with a soft cry of pain and slumping against the blonde woman’s side, panting.

“No!”

All eyes turned toward Utena.

“I’ll pilot the Eva! That’s what I’m here for, right? You can’t make her do this!”

Misato met the blonde woman’s eyes. “...Could that work?”

She thought for a few seconds. “If we perform a full shutdown of R05, we could buy the Sixth about thirty seconds to get into the entry plug before it restarts itself and resumes its berserk rampage. Of course, that would be thirty seconds of total vulnerability…”

“We could distract it by sending military jets to bomb it,” Misato added.

“That could work… but there’s still the risk of the Angel realizing what we’re trying to do, or a stray bomb hitting the Sixth.”

“Then let’s leave it up to her. Utena, are you sure you want to do this?”

Utena hadn’t broken eye contact with the strange girl. Those green eyes, shining with pain and fear and despair...

“I’ll do it.”

The girl’s eyes widened with shock and, perhaps, a spark of hope.

Misato closed her eyes. “That settles it, then. Ritsuko, I hope you’re prepared to line everything up quickly, because we’re going to need that time. Utena, I’m going to need you to watch R05 closely. Try to predict where it’s going to fall, because you’re only going to have thirty seconds to get into the entry plug, where its spine meets its neck. Once you’re in there, you’re going to find Saionji unconscious in the cockpit. He’s wearing a pair of triangular metallic hair clips-those are the neural interface, you’ll need to clip them to your own hair, as close to your head as possible. Got all that?”

Utena nodded, her stance tense with determination. “Good. After that… Well, from what I’ve heard, piloting an Eva is sink-or-swim. There isn’t really any advice I can give you, since I’ve never done it myself… so try to swim. Good luck.”

Misato returned to her phone and started barking orders, and Utena slid off the rock towards where the battle was raging on. The spikes piercing out of R05’s chassis had started dripping a red liquid that steamed when it hit the ground. The metal at its shoulder blades bulged and cracked, and she could see an eerie purple light shining through the fissures.

One drop of liquid hit the Angel’s hand, and its howl of pain shook the entire valley. The hand melted away completely, leaving a stump at the wrist. The spots on the ground where the melted flesh had landed turned green, and if Utena looked closely, she could see thorny vines growing out of them.

Utena returned her attention to the Angel. Maybe, without its hand, we have a chance… her thoughts were cut off when the Angel flexed its arm, and two more hands grew from the stump. Oh. It can do that. Okay. The Angel screeched from all of its mouths, and as R05 lunged at it, caught the mech’s arms with two hands each, and began scrabbling at the Eva's chestpiece with its free arm.

With a keening cry, more spikes shot out of R05’s chest, catching the Angel’s shoulders and causing it to stumble back. The Eva took a few steps backward, panting. There was a sickening crack , and Utena could see that the fissures in its back had grown a bit larger, the purple light spilling out a little bit brighter.

Misato cursed. “Its wings are about to erupt! Ritsuko, we need those reinforcements now! ”

“They’re on their way!” And sure enough, Utena could hear jet engines approaching rapidly, Something streaked toward the Angel, and an explosion rang out. The Angel stumbled forward and whipped around to face the squadron of fighter jets that were flying towards it. It let out a roar, and sprinted away from R05.

“Utena, go! ” Misato shouted as the Eva, seemingly about to charge after the Angel shuddered to a halt, then collapsed onto its side. Utena sprang into action, sprinting towards R05 before it even hit the ground and vaulting onto its wrist, before climbing up the arm. She pulled herself up onto its back and began making her way towards the entry plug as quickly as she could, taking care to avoid the red spikes, which she could now see were black at the base.

Another explosion from the Angel’s battle with the jets rang out, and Utena cried out in alarm as she fell into a crouch, clinging to one of the fissures in R05’s armor to keep from falling off. It was emanating some sort of strange energy, and Utena’s hands were starting to go numb. She pushed herself back to her feet, wincing as she tried to massage the feeling back into her fingers, and kept going.

She had just barely reached the entry plug when a shudder ran through the Eva, and it began to move its arms into position to push itself back up. Utena gulped, then twisted the release on the emergency escape hatch on the entry plug and slipped inside, shutting it tightly behind her.

And not a moment too soon, for an instant after the hatch was sealed, she was suddenly vertical, flung forward into empty space. Then she hit some sort of uncomfortably warm liquid, and didn’t even have time to gasp for breath before she was submerged. She coughed and sputtered, but after a few seconds, realized that she could breathe in the liquid almost as easily as air. It was orange, and transparent, thicker than air or water but not gelatinous, and it smelled like salt, with a faint hint of something acrid and sickly sweet. Fighting down a wave of disgust, Utena swam deeper into the entry plug, towards where she could see a chair suspended in the liquid.

Sure enough, just as Misato had said, there was a boy floating there, unconscious, his dark hair swirling around him like a kelp forest, with the triangular neural interface clips attached close to his scalp. Utena gingerly undid the clasps, then with both clips clutched in her hand, shoved the boy (Saionji?) up away from the seat. She settled into it, and somehow, the chair seemed almost made to fit her narrow frame.

Alright, R05 , Utena thought, it’s just you and me now. Moment of truth. With a deep breath, she affixed the clips to her own head.

She was enveloped by the scent of roses.

A heartbeat later, she was nearly bowled over by a wave of sensation and pain. The walls of the entry plug around her flickered , and suddenly displayed the scene of the battle, as if she were seeing through R05’s eyes. She could feel the spikes protruding from the Eva's body just as though it was her own, along with waves of pressure pounding at her shoulder blades.

Utena couldn't suppress a cry of agony, and she curled up in her seat. She could see R05’s movements jerk to a halt as it adjusted to this new connection. Emotions tore through her, somehow more intense than they were normally. Pain, confusion, fear… familiarity? Something about this, about being so close to this monstrosity of steel and fluid felt… right , somehow. Forcing herself upright, Utena reached out and stroked the wall of the entry plug.

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” she said, in the most soothing voice she could muster, “I’m new here, and I don’t really know how to do this, so we’re going to have to work together, okay?”

The Evangelion had stopped moving. It stood at attention, and even though Utena knew on an intellectual level that it was just a robot, it almost seemed… hopeful? “I know it hurts, I’m so, so sorry. Please, just work with me here and it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Utena felt a ripple of some emotion — was it acceptance? Relief? — and then, suddenly, the pressure at her shoulder blades receded, and the limbs of the Eva became her own. Utena smiled gratefully. “Thanks, bud. Now let’s go kill an Angel.”

Together, they turned their attention back to the fight. Two of the planes had crashed to the ground already, a third was missing with no sign of where it had gone, and the Angel stood on four of its arms, the other two flailing wildly into the air, occasionally extending far past where its bones should allow and requiring a plane to make a hasty dodge to avoid it. “We need to get it to leave those planes alone. Can you do that?”

As if in affirmation, Utena felt her attention directed towards R05’s wrist. A small gun was embedded there; not strong enough to do any real damage to the Angel, but enough to distract it enough to give the planes enough time to retreat. She lifted R05’s arm and fired.

The shot hit the Angel right at the edge of one of its mouths. The thing stiffened, and turned towards them. “Hey wait, how does it see us if it doesn’t have any eye- AH!” Utena’s sentence was cut off by a scream as the Angel charged them, slamming into R05’s chassis and knocking them both back. One of its shoulders collided with the Eva’s forearm, and she gasped in pain as its swordlike fangs dug in. It’s not real , she tried to convince herself desperately, as she felt the fibers of her muscles severed and teeth grinding against her bones. It’s just feedback, it’s not your pain…

But it was R05’s.

Machine or not, R05 felt pain.

A newfound determination welled in Utena’s chest. I can’t let this continue, she thought. I’m fighting for both of us, now.

She clutched the prog knife in her free hand and drove it upward. It crashed into the orange forcefield, sending splinters of pain up Utena’s arm, but she kept pushing. She felt a pulse of energy shoot out from R05’s core, and suddenly, the knife’s blade slipped through the field, right into the monster’s shoulder.

The Angel howled in agony and released her, but Utena didn’t retreat, instead springing back to (her? The Eva’s?) feet. She grasped the knife in both hands and brought the blade down on the orb in the Angel’s back again and again, until she felt something crack underneath the point. She dug the knife deeper, and the orb suddenly lit up, brighter than the sun—

She and R05 were thrown back by the explosion, they hit the side of a mountain, their heads impacting painfully against the rock, stars danced before their eyes—

It smells like roses, Utena thought.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

#revolutionary girl utena #rgu #neon genesis evangelion #nge #shoujo kakumei utena #sku #utena tenjou #anthy himemiya #utena x anthy #misato katsuragi #ritsuko akagi #utenanthy #my writing

[klutzyzombie]

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Summary: From a young age, Bakugou Katsuki is told his hearing will continue to fade with use of his explosive quirk. He's given hearing aids to help when he reaches high school but refuses to wear them because what pro hero wears those? It takes some red-headed courage to convince him otherwise.  Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Eijirou Kirishima, Ashido Mina, Denki Kaminari, Sero Hanta Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima Eijirou (KiriBaku) Rating: General Warnings: N/A Words: 6,701 Notes: So this is my first official fic for this fandom and I don't exactly have anyone to proofread this so I sincerely apologize if it's out of character and for the errors! This was written from my own experiences with going deaf and requiring hearing aids and how I felt about it when I was first told. It seemed like something Bakugou may have also felt so you'll have to excuse me projecting~

**Please note that when a character is signing, it will be italicized.

Ao3: [click here!]

He started losing his hearing in grade school. He had been about eight when his family took him to get his ears checked when his grades slipped and he continued to miss things said at home. From there he was bounced from doctor to doctor but the general consensus was the same; his quirk was causing him to go deaf. It made sense really; continued exposure to loud constant boom’s. Like playing a rock concert next to the amp turned up all the way. It was bound to happen the second his quirk manifested and the decision to be a pro hero was made.

They recommended easing down on use of his quirk unless the situation called for it to try and put off the inevitable, but that wasn’t about to happen. Pro heroes in training needed to have master over their own quirks! So they also suggested hearing aids which Katsuki was against. What pro hero wore those tacky things?! For now, his hearing loss was manageable, but if Katsuki was keen on becoming a hero (and he was; even eight year old Katsuki knew this) then the doctors expected his hearing to be practically gone by the time he was in his late teens.

So the Bakugou family learned sign language as a safety net and as he grew, his hearing faded more and more as expected. It became Katsuki’s new normal for things to be a little jumbled and almost like people were talking underwater if they weren’t close enough or if they soft spoken. Maybe that was why as got older he had a tendency to yell constantly, his voice growing a little more gruff with age as well. He’d also picked up on lip reading which was immensely helpful in middle school as he refused to tell a teacher he couldn’t hear them or ask to sit in the front. It wasn’t going to be the future he imagined when he was a kid, but hey, he was Bakugou fucking Katsuki! He wasn’t about to let something like hearing loss stop him from becoming the next number one hero! He was nothing but goal driven from a young age, refusing to tell anyone about what he deemed to be his biggest weakness, preferring to make due with his lip reading. When his acceptance into U.A. was announced, his parents made a decision and while he fought tooth and nail – literally – he was fitted for a pair of hearing aids.

U.A. was everything he had hoped it would be as a child (though he could have done without the damn nerd also getting in and sitting right behind him) and much to his utter chagrin, he even made a few friends despite the fact that he’d never refer to them as such. They were more like a few idiots who wouldn't know how to fuck off if their lives depended on it. One such of these idiots and the biggest offender was Kirishima who, from day one, seemed to latch on to Katsuki. It was annoying at first; sure he had ‘friends’ in middle school but they were more afraid of him and only followed him as some sort of leader or popularity magnet. Kirishima just- liked him. For him! There wasn’t any fear and he damn sure wasn’t getting popular by hanging around Katsuki. If anything that was reversed since the stupid idiot seemed to be friends with just about everyone to varying degrees.

And Katsuki wanted to hate it- hate HIM because he didn’t need friends let alone overly enthusiastic idiot friends and with Kirishima deeming him ‘friendly’, the rest of the idiot brigade followed suit. Before Katsuki knew what had happened, Kaminari had wormed his way into his and Kirishima’s study sessions, Ashido had started tugging on his arm in her bubbly excitement at something or another, and Sero had taken too confining in him about whatever trouble had been on his mind. Bakugou Katsuki had actual honest to god friends and it was Kirishima’s fault. It hit him one night after moving into the dorms after he’d been dragged to watch a movie in Kirishima’s room. Like, forcefully dragged and as they sat there, watching as Iron Man and Captain America did some epic team up move on some aliens, he realized he was actually enjoying himself around these idiots.

He wasn’t supposed to be fond of the dunces. He didn’t need anyone and after the hero exam he and Todoroki failed, he tried to go back to how things were. Katsuki didn’t need friends and Kirishima and Kaminari passing while he failed was proof of that. So he separated himself from them. Well, he tried to at least. It wasn’t easy to do since the clingy idiots couldn’t take a hint if he stapled it to their faces. It was exhausting and when he did finally manage it, about a week into his granted alone time he was miserable and angry and ended up back on Kirishima’s bed while he and Kaminari played some game on Kaminari’s Switch.

He couldn’t shake the idiots he unwillingly befriended and he whole heartedly blamed Kirishima for all of it. On a rare weekend home, he was bitching to his mom about the annoyances who kept blowing up his phone with their stupid ‘Bakusquad’ group text. Mitsuki was sitting at the kitchen table with designs and fabrics spread out while Katsuki ranted on. She hadn’t known her comment about him being popular due to his phone’s continued dinging would lead to this, but now it was hard to stop the small smile building as he went on and on about them. Something he pointed out to her with annoyance.

‘Sorry, it’s just nice to know you have actual friends! Finally.’

“I can fuckin’ hear you, hag!” Katsuki snapped.

‘Are you sure? I don’t see your hearing aids in.’

His response to that was to simply flip her off as he marched out of the room. “I’m not going to wear those fuckin’ things.”

“Katsuki!” They had this argument so many times now he could almost recite it word for word. It was what she always said since the moment they picked up the stupid devices. 'Wear them!' 'Are you wearing them?' 'How is training with the hearing aids working out?' Every damn time she called it was the same song and dance and it was getting more and more irritating every time she brought the damn things up! He could picture her pushing away from the table and marching after him so it wasn’t a surprise when her raised voice shouted after him. “We spent good money-“

“’-on those things so the least I could do is wear them’! Get a new speech! I don't fuckin' need them because I can still hear just fine!” There was an uncharacteristic pause after that and he wheeled around to glare at her, to see what she was trying to prove, only to see Mitsuki giving him a pointed look. “What?!”

‘I said if that was true, then you would be able to hear me.’ She signed while speaking. Well, he assumed she was. Her lips were moving and he could hear a faint sound that was in teh same tone as her voice, but couldn't quite make out the words. Katsuki stood there, red eyes narrowed at her which was a look she was mirroring back at him for all of a few seconds before she sighed, expression softening. ‘Katsuki, it’s gotten worse since you started high school. I’ve been practically yelling at you just so you’d hear me since you got home.’ The look on his face must have been horrified because his mom’s melted from fond annoyance to one of almost-pity. She lifted her hands to sign something else but he quickly turned and marched back up to his room to finish getting ready to head back to the dorms. He hated that look on her. Hated that look on anyone and he didn't need her to see that she was right. That his hearing really had gotten worse. It would make sense that it had, he guessed. He went from only training with his quirk a few times a week to preserve his hearing to using it about daily for hours on end.

So then why hadn’t he noticed it?

He guessed the whole ‘it’s a gradual process’ thing could be a factor and if he thought about it, he was having a harder time hearing Aizawa now. Deku’s muttering had also seemed to bother him less as of late and it damn sure wasn’t because the nerd had suddenly stopped the habit he’d had since they were kids. His hearing really had faded drastically in just under a year and that was a reality check.

One he also apparently wasn’t great at hiding because a few days back in school had Kirishima draping an arm across his shoulders in the locker room. He had a habit of doing that no matter what murderous look was on Katsuki's face and today when he went to shoot a glare at the red head - one he knew would just be ignored- he was met with a concerned look on Kirishima's face. “Yo man, you good? You’ve seemed kinda…”

“Extra murder-y.” Kaminari supplied.

Katsuki and Kirishima shot him a look, Katsuki’s much more threatening, but he went on. “Is everything alright? You know you can always talk to me!”

“Fuck off, I’m fine.” Was his eloquent reply and he knew Kirishima wasn’t convinced, but the red head knew enough about him to know to drop it. The look that now shifted across his face was proof he knew something was up, but he turned back to talking about some new show with Kaminari and Sero to make sure nobody else tried to take the opportunity to ask Katsuki about his oh so chipper mood. Kirishima was good at reading him like that. He seemed to always know what Katsuki meant or needed in the moment. It would be endearing if it wasn’t also equal parts annoying. Sometimes he wished the idiot would remember how damn powerful Katsuki was! But then again, Kirishima was also the perfect foil to him.

He watched as said boy grinned and laughed at something Kaminari had said, head tilting back slightly from the force of it. He was so stupidly friendly and he seemed to really want to be Katsuki’s friend if not his best one. He liked to proclaim as such at least and he guessed it was true to a degree. Kirishima knew him better than anyone else probably did and just how that happened should be concering. Just when had he allowed the idiot to figure him out so well?

Katsuki looked back at his locker with a huff, not about to give Kirishima another reason to ask about his mood again. He looked at his mask and the orange and black wing tips behind it. Looked at the orange X crossing the otherwise all black uniform. Looked at the matching heavy-duty boots and belt that housed mini versions of his quirk. Looked at how the entire ensemble represented everything he wanted to become and how his stupid hearing was likely to take all of that away.

He slammed the locker shut with more force than needed, meeting Kirishima’s gaze as he glanced over at the sound. “Meet me after dinner.” He said simply, walking off before he could see or hear the red head’s reaction.

---

Katsuki was a proud person and that was a fact that was well know. He never needed and never asked for help. He was self-sufficient and refused to lean on others to get to where he wanted to be. So reaching out to Kirishima about this was going to be a challenge. Said teen had been in his room for going on ten minutes, silently watching and waiting, sitting in his deskchair backwards as Katsuki glared daggers at the ground. It would be unnerving to have the talkative bastard so quiet if it wasn’t once again proof how well Kirishimia knew him; knew whatever was on his mind was heavy enough to make him clearly agitated and extra moody. This fact had him glance up so red eyes could meet red and at Kirishima’s concerned but patient face, he sighed and looked away.

“I can barely fuckin’ hear.” He admitted like it was the biggest secret he’d ever be forced to admit because to him, it was.

“Yeah?” Kirishima sounded confused but not in the way he had been anticipating. He was confused like you had just told him Ashido’s favorite color was pink. Like what Katsuki had just said was common knowledge.

This had Katsuki whipping his head back to look at him. “’Yeah’?! The fuck does that mean?!”

Kirishima tilted his head like he did when he could tell Katsuki was upset with him but didn’t know why. “It means yeah? Like, yeah I know?”

It was Katsuki’s turn to be confused now. “You know?”

“Dude, if it was supposed to be a secret, your awful at hiding it!” Kirishima laughed and he glared at him for it. This was supposed to be his close kept secret! His weakness nobody, except for maybe Deku, knew! Kirishima seemed to understand his inner turmoil (because of course he would) and gave the teen a small smile, moving to rub the back of his neck. “Well, maybe it just was to me? I dunno, man. I noticed from the quirk assessment we had on the first day.”

“How?!” His voice sounded more confused than annoyed.

Kirishima shrugged and moved his toe against the floor a bit to slightly spin the chair he was sitting on. A nervous habit he’d get when he was the center of attention, Katsuki noted. “You just weren’t responding to anyone. First I thought you were just kinda an asshole and ignoring people, ya know?” He looked back up at him with a grin. “But then when Aizawa-Sensei would repeat something louder and you’d respond and I saw your quirk in action, I guess I just put two-and-two together. I didn’t know it was some big secret though.”

“It’s not!” Katsuki was quick to snap but that wasn’t really true. It clearly was or his heart wouldn’t have dropped when he realized Kirishima had figured it out within hours of meeting him. He huffed to himself, not wanting to snap at Kirishima over his own overlook and looked away again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Does anyone else know?”

Kirishima hummed in thought, looking up at the ceiling. “I think all of us kinda know somethings up to varying degrees.” He must have heard the speed at which Katsuki whipped his head around because Kirishima quickly clarified, “I mean those of us in the squad. Kaminari talks louder when he’s around us. Ashido and Sero started too as well after they hung out with us for a while. I suppose it also helps that the four of us are naturally loud anyway, but they definatley talk up and more clear when they're with us.”

Katsuki just looked at him stunned. They had all figured it out? And they hadn’t ever commented on it? Made it a point to make a joke about it? Tease him about it like they endlessly teased him about everything else? They had just started to talk louder for his sake?! Here he thought they were just obnoxious assholes…

Kirishima seemed to notice his lack of anger and response and crossed his arms over the back of the chair he was sitting on, resting his head on them as he studied Katsuki carefully. “Is this what’s been bothering you?”

Katsuki shot him a glare before huffing and looking away again. A nonverbal yes before he sighed, eyes closing. His mind was still reeling from the knowledge that not only did the other idiots figure it out, but that they had all apparently silently just decided to not talk about it and simply speak up and clearer so he could hear them all better. He had a plan going into this. He was going to tell Kirishima he was hard of hearing, tell him he’d known it was coming, and how he was supposed to wear hearing aids. He had planned for questions and for almost snapping at Kirishima for giving him a pitying look before quickly covering it up because Kirishima knew he hated pity. He had expected this conversation to go the opposite direction it had gone and now he was at a loss.

“They…" How was he supposed to proceed now?! "I’m supposed to wear hearing aids.” He blurted out quietly, almost hoping Kirishima didn’t hear him.

But of course he did. “So why don’t you?”

“Are you stupid?!” Kirishima frowned. It wasn’t pity on his face but almost like disappointment? That look was somehow worse and Katsuki quickly looked away from him again. “I can’t be number one like that.”

“So you’d rather just not be at your best then?”

Wellp. Anger was back. Least that was familiar over the weird sensation knowing his friends never brought up his hearing had left him with. He jerked back to face Kirishima, on his feet before he even registered he’d moved. Kirishima just looked at him with same look he had on earlier. “What?!”

“You can’t be your best if you aren’t even going to work with something that improves your skills.” Kirishima repeated, apparently oblivious to the absolute inferno of anger his words had lit. “Dude, you can’t stand there and tell me with a straight face you’d be at your absolute best going into situations as you are when you could be going in with your senses heightened. That would be like fighting with one hand tied behind you back all the time! It doesn’t make any sense, man!”

Katsuki stood where he was, keeping Kirishima’s gaze which had narrowed. It wasn’t anger, but the look he got when determination had set in and he wasn’t about to even think about budging on something. Katsuki liked to imagine it was the look he had when he tried to convince their classmates to come to Kamino Ward. What made it worse this go around was that, well, Katsuki knew he was right. “Tch.” He turned and stalked back to his bed before slumping down on it, glaring up at the ceiling as if it had personally wronged him. “What pro hero do you know wears hearing aids, shitty hair?”

“You?” That answer had Katsuki turn to shoot him a ‘stop bullshitting’ look but Kirishima’s face was so purely earnest the words died on his tongue. “Sure none of the current pros do, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be the first! I bet they’ll even make some with little orange X’s on them! That would be so cool!” He gave Katsuki one of those toothy grins that rivaled the sun in brightness and it took all Katsuki had not to smile at him in return.

He scoffed and looked away instead. “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe, but I’m right about this!” Kirishima stood up and moved to sit beside his feet on the bed. “You always are the first and best at everything. Wouldn't it be super manly to be the representation to little kids you want now?” Katsuki didn’t say anything, afraid speaking might betray how hot his face was starting to feel at Kirishima’s unbridled admiration. “Besides think of all the cool ways you could make them look! I bet you could get them like, orange to match your uniform or-!”

“They’re already orange.” Kirishima turned to look at him and Katsuki rolled his eyes at the awe on the red heads face. He knew what was coming without Kirishima even asking so he sat up to pull a small box from the far corner of his nightstand. He tossed it to Kirishima who caught and opened it, eyes growing wide.

“Dude, these look so cool!”

“No they fuckin’ don’t. Don’t lie to me-“

“I’m not, man! Dude, picture this.” He picked one of them up and held it so Katsuki could see before splaying his other fingers out behind it. “You could have them as part of you mask! I bet support could even make some super badass ones that could have another dual factor! Maybe even like Mic’s speaker thing? No, I guess that wouldn’t make sense. But maybe they can block out certain things? Like Shinsou’s quirk! Oh man, you’re an even better match for him now! Just turn them off and you can’t even hear him!” Kirishima went into a rant about all the things he thought the stupid device in his hand could be used for and honestly Katsuki wasn’t hearing any of it but not because of the hearing loss. He just watched the idiot talk, watched his lips move and hands gesture. Watched as he’d occasionally laugh at something he’d thought of and how his smile reached his eyes when he did. How he was so excited just to sit here and come up with dumb ideas and how happy he was that Katsuki was potentially going to be an even better hero.

That thought alone made Katsuki’s heart jump again. Kirishima had really meant it about being an example. He really did think wearing the stupid devices would make him a better hero. Didn’t think it would make him any less of a person or any less of a pro. Kirishima genuinely didn’t think less or pity him for it and it actually seemed like he was furious that Katsuki would risk throwing his own dream of being a hero away just because of two tiny devices that would help him.

It was almost too much for him.

“You’re an idiot.” He repeated. Kirishima stopped talking and looked at him. He was still smiling and Katsuki was willing to bet that he was too if the slight tug at his lips was any indicator. “Fuckin’-! Fine, you rambling moron. I’ll wear the damn things tomorrow.”

The grin he got in return had to rival the brightest light in the galaxy and before he could open his mouth to warn against it, Kirishima tackled him back on the bed. The curses and explosions he sent in return were simply laughed off and otherwise ignored.

---

True to his word, Katsuki stood in front of his mirror with the small devices in his hand. He looked at his reflection without them, took in the way he looked one last time as if he could never go back to this look before sliding them in and turning them on as he remembered the doctor demonstrating. He winced at the resistance he was met with as they flickered to life but looked back at his reflection once they were snugly in and properly adjusted. His hair hid them for the most part, ash blond strands hanging low enough that unless he really looked, he couldn’t see them. Maybe that meant nobody else would since he was actually looking for them. He let out a sigh and turned to grab his bag. He doubted that severely. He swore quietly to himself, ignoring how it actually wasn't as quiet as he thought, and started the trek to class.

The walk out of the dorms and into the school was… different? He could hear things he hadn’t otherwise heard before. He could hear birds chirping in the trees he walked under, bits and pieces of conversations of the people he passed, that one weirdo from 1-B saying something and even the faint smack that followed as that orange haired chick apologized for him. It was almost like he’d been listening to the TV volume only turned up to 2 and now suddenly it was changed to 10. It would be overwhelming if he were anyone else, he guessed. Katsuki imagined this is what those videos of colorblind people wearing those special glasses was like. To experience the world with a sense that was dulled for so long only to be informed that said sense could be much better.

He’d spent so much time glaring at the stupid things and then fiddling with them to get them adjusted that he’d been beaten to class by the self proclaimed ‘Bakusquad’. Kirishima was sitting on Sero's desk facing the door and when he spotted Katsuki, broke back out into that same grin he did that rivaled the light flickering in from the windows. “Hey, Bakugou!” He raised an arm in greeting, grabbing the attention of the other idiots who all turned to greet him though not as enthusiastically as Kirishima. Not much of a surprise considering the red head was very clearly the only morning person among them.

Katsuki tsk'ed in greeting but Kirishima seemed to be studying him harder than usual and it was pretty clear what he was searching for. So with a roll of his eyes, Katsuki turned his head slightly so Kirishima could see the small bit of orange poking out from under his hair and if the smile he was greeted with was bright, this one was blinding. He didn’t say anything much to Katsuki's relief, just looked back at Kaminari despite his grin not fading as Katsuki walked over to his desk and tossed his bag down. Such a stupid little thing and Kirishima was grinning like he'd won the lottery.

Class was almost night and day.

He could hear Aizawa’s lazy tone easily, better than he had ever remembered being able to. He didn't need to rely on his handouts and the board to take notes. It was considerably easier to understand Ectoplasm now too and, much to his sheer and utter annoyance, he could hear Deku muttering to himself again. It was annoying, sure, and he almost considered taking the stupid things out to prevent it, but the fact that he actually could stopped him. Even Deku's muttering couldn't quite distract from the almost wonder he had. He could also pick up on Kaminari and Kirishima whispering though he coldn't make out what. (Probably about the math problem Ectoplasm just wrote down.)

The lunchroom was another experience. He hadn’t ever heard it this loud and he muttered to Sero if something special was happening because of the noise before Sero eyed him confused and said it was always this loud. Huh. He knew it should be considering the amount of teenagers cramed into it, but the thought hadn't really ever crossed his mind just how loud it should be. It was almost painful. Their usual table was at least a little quieter since it was in the far back. Katsuki was actually able to hear Kaminari approaching without relying on the slight ting of electricity in the air that usually was his give away. He looked up and watched as he and Kirishima stepped over towards them, caught up in some conversation about something, only stopping when Kirishima moved away and took his usual spot beside Katsuki while Kaminari went to sit in front of him.

“Hey, Bakubro! You look-“

Katsuki winced. “Fuck, can you maybe not talk so damn loud?!” He brought his hands up to his ears, wincing as they gave off feedback which he assumed was due to the mentioned static Kaminari gave off. Maybe he really should speak to support about upgrading them if he was going to start using them more. Wait, was that going to be a thing? He'd told Kirishima he'd wear them today; not from then on. When had he decided this was going to be a permanent thing?

He was lost in his own thoughts about if this so he missed the way Sero, Ashido, and Kaminari looked at each other, then at him, then back to one another. “Uh? He’s talking like he usually does. Which yeah, it’s loud, but it’s his usual volume.” Sero defended, looking all the world like Katsuki had just started sprouting a second head.

Shit.

Katsuki huffed and looked down pointedly at his lunch, taking a bite of rice to further avoid meeting their gaze. “Well tone it the fuck down, dunce-face.”

Kirishima was pointedly quiet while the three others sat in silence for a joyous and nerve wracking moment. He wondered briefly if they would just drop it, but no, he was never that lucky. He heard a gasp, knew it was Ashido, and jerked his gaze back up just as she leaned across the table and reached over to move his hair aside. “You got hearing aids!”

“Fuckin’-! Don’t touch me!” He swatted her hand away but the damage was done.

She was grinning from ear to ear and practically bouncing in her seat. “Oh my gosh, they look so good! That color is going to match your uniform perfectly!”

“Nice, dude! When did you get those?”

“Does this mean you’ll answer when I ask you for help now?”

“I think he was just always ignoring you, Kami.”

"What? No! Why would he do that?"

"Because you ask him for answers on every problem rather than how to solve it?"

Bakugou watched the three teens in front of him suddenly turn on Kaminari, laughing at the other blond’s expense. They hadn’t even flinched at him wearing them! No jokes, no sympathetic looks, nothing! They just took it in stride as if he’d said the weather outside was cool. He looked over at Kirishima to get confirmation that he wasn’t insane and they had really found out what he deemed his weakness. Kirishima met his gaze with a knowing grin and a shrug of his shoulders, a silent ‘I-told-you-it-wasn’t-a-big-deal’ look on his face. Katsuki shot him a glare but turned back to his meal to try and hide the smile he knew would betray any small amount of anger it may have had.

They didn't seem to care. He'd spent so much of his life dreading the day he'd have to wear these stupid things. Dreading the way people would look at or perceive him. He was Bakugou Katsuki and the only way he should be looked at was with admiration or fear; not pity or sympathy, and he whole heartedly believed that was going to be the outcome wearing these would bring. He expected the three idiots in front of him to make a huge ordeal about it, but they just seemed relieved and excited. Just like Kirishima had been.

Maybe having friends wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

---

After that, Katsuki wore them daily. They became second nature from then on and he wanted to be surprised that nobody seemed to even flinch at them, but after seeing his friend’s reactions, he really wasn't. What was supposed to be a weakness was nothing more than another area he could work with. Something Katsuki could train and hone like his quirk. He’d even followed Kirishima’s idea and got a pair that would work with his mask. They got upgraded to protect his remaining hearing from his explosions while enhancing it. His regular ones got an upgrade as well so they’d stop sending him feedback every time Kaminari got within a foot of him which spared Kaminari getting threatened and snapped at so it was a win for him as well. (Both pairs were returned black with an orange X printed on them and Kirishima swore he knew nothing about it.)

Months passed and it was hard to imagine he’d ever put up such a fight to wear the stupid things. They really did make a difference and it was even better knowing nobody felt the need to shout at him. Part of him wondered just how many people did but also didn’t think his pride could risk asking. It was like nothing had changed and while he wouldn’t ever admit it, it was apparent he had worried and put this off for absolutely no reason. His friends rolled with it like nothing had happened and that alone, while he refused to admit it, was the real reason he continued to keep it up after the first day. The idiots seemed to be full of surprises, especially Kirishima.

So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise what happened one night during the middle of their second year. The pair were up late in Bakugou’s room going over the latest math homework they’d been given. Well, more like Katsuki was going over Kirishima’s since his was already finished. At some point he’d taken his hearing aids out figuring he wouldn’t really need them in the quiet of his room.

He marked one last problem Kirishima needed to look over and handed the paper back. The red head took it then asked ‘Do you want to go get something to eat?’

“Yeah sure.”

He pushed himself up and brought an arm back behind his head to stretch it out and then it dawned on him. Kirishima hadn’t spoken. His lips hadn’t moved.

“What?!”

Kirishima startled at his yelling. “I asked-“

“I know what you asked!” Katsuki was pretty sure he must look strange because Kirishima was looking at him with sheer, utter confusion. “It’s- it’s how you asked it!”

The red head blinked at him in confusion, clearly not understanding why Katsuki was suddenly so upset. “What about it?”

“You signed!”

“Yeah?” He held the ‘ea’ sound out as if the pause would help him figure out what had happened. Katsuki could feel his face heating up. “Dude, I’m so confused right now. What’s wrong?”

“You-! You fuckin’ signed to me!”

“Yeah, you covered that part. What about it?”

“When the fuck did you learn it?!”

Kirishima still looked at him baffled. “Dude, I’ve known for years. My mom is hard of hearing.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because I didn’t think I’d need to? I sign to you all the time, man!” Now it was Katsuki’s turn to look lost. He looked at the red head for a few minutes as if he’d just told him some world altering view, which he kinda did. “You good, bro?”

“No I’m not ‘good’! When the fuck have you ever signed to me?!” Though as the question left his lips, memories started replaying in his head. One’s of Kirishima casually signing ‘lunch?’ while verbally saying they should head to grab a bite to eat. Memories of Kirishima signing ‘that was awesome!’ after Katsuki did some impressive move in training. Of Kirishima’s fingers moving to ask him to pass his notes back over. Vision after vision of Kirishima slipping it into such casual setting from the first weeks he knew him and wow, okay that did something to his heart.

Why hadn’t he ever noticed it before? When the hell had Kirishima become such a casual part of his life that him speaking in a language hardly anyone knew became second nature? How had he learned so much about Katsuki without him ever knowing the red head was close enough to figure him out? Why did he decide to dedicate so much of his energy and time to be around him?!

“Dude?” He looked over at Kirishima who was now looking at him worried. “I was kinda kidding when I asked if you were good but now I’m actually worried. Are you alright? You look, like, sick."

Katsuki dropped to his knees in front of the red head who was looking even more concerned now. He opened his mouth, probably to once again ask if Katsuki was okay, when Katsuki put his hands on either side of his head and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t anything spectacular on the outside, just a chaste kiss, but it was an awakening for Katsuki who avoided feelings and distractions. Katsuki who had mentioned romance was the furthest thing on his mind when Ashido asked him back in first year if he was interested in anyone. So yeah, it wasn’t the most romantic of kisses as Katsuki hadn’t exactly kissed anyone aside from one or two people back in middle school and Kirishima hadn’t exactly moved or leaned into it let alone reacted.

Wait, shit. Kirishima hadn’t reacted.

That thought had him pulling back immediately, apology already forming but going unspoken as Kirishima mirrored the gesture of grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Now it was Katsuki’s turn to be shocked but it faded in seconds, eyes closing on instinct as he moved to rest his hands on Kirishima’s hips. Kirishima in turn gently cupped the side of his face, guiding Katsuki’s head to tilt to the side slightly so he could deepen it. Alright, this one was much better than the pitiful one Katsuki had just done. Kirishima’s lips slid against his like they were meant to be connected and his hands lit Katsuki’s skin on fire. The feeling was like wearing his hearing aids for the first time. Like reawakening a sense that had been muted for years. He didn’t want it to end but after one last slow kiss, Kirishima pulled back, lips parted as he breathed.

Katsuki opened his eyes and blinked down at him, no doubt looking as kiss-drunk as the red head. Kirishima beamed back up at him, cheeks tinted red which Katsuki could feel his own face mimicking. He glanced away as if that would hide it, ignoring the way his heart rate picked up when Kirishima’s arms moved to wrap around his waist, head resting against his chest. He had about a billion things he wanted to say, knew Kirishima had about a billion he probably wanted to ask, but of course the red head knew him well enough to know he needed a minute before he spoke. Kirishima knew him so well. How did he not ever connect these dots and do this sooner?!

“So you like me.”

Alright, maybe not the elegant response he wanted but he earned a laugh from Kirishima. He shrugged and looked up at him so Katsuki could see his lips, smile still present. “What finally gave that away?”

Katsuki could feel his face flush anew. “’Finally’?”

“I haven’t exactly been trying to hide it from you.”

“You never fuckin’ said anything!”

“Again, never thought I’d need to.”

And alright, that was fair if he thought about it. He frowned but it was more at himself than at Kirishima and he ducked his head down to rest against the red head’s shoulder, the red head pulling him close. “You have awful taste.” He muttered to which Kirishima just hummed, lightly resting his head against the side of Katsuki’s.

They stayed like that for a while longer before Kirishima’s stomach made them remember what had started this whole ordeal in the first place. As they stood up and started to head out, Katsuki paused and turned grabbing his hearing aids and sliding them into place, ignoring the way Kirishima’s face lit up at the simple motion. He didn’t comment on it though, only taking Katsuki’s hand for a whole second before dropping it. Katsuki arched a brow, about to ask what was wrong.

‘I really, really like you, Katsuki.’

Katsuki was pretty sure his face was currently redder than the idiot in front of him’s hair and mumbled a quiet “Fuck you” as he lightly punched his shoulder. Kirishima laughed and caught Katsuki’s hand before it fell away. He went to lace their fingers together and tug him down the hall but Katsuki stayed rooted to the spot. Kirishima looked back at him, head tilting in the ‘whats-up’ way he did before Katsuki pulled his hand back.

‘You are an idiot, but I like you too.’

It shouldn’t be a surprise the way Kirishima’s eyes lit up. It shouldn’t be breath taking the blinding smile such a simple statement was met with. It shouldn’t make his heart skip when he was rewarded with another kiss. None of it should be but here Katsuki was, arms wrapped around this dumb, red headed ray of sunshine who managed to do the impossible.

#KiriBaku #Bakugou Katsuki #Kirishima Eijirou #BakuShima #Deaf Bakugou #Bakugou #Kirishima #BNHA #Boku no Hero Academia #My Hero Academia #MHA #klutzys writing

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Vengeance and Ambition

This was supposed to be a full story with Fawful and King Boo being victorious in the end. I was super excited for it because it's my 2 fav Mario villains teaming up and winning. But then it slowly dawned on me that no one would care in large part because Fawful's not a popular character. And while I have no issues writing solely for myself (I stopped expecting any kind of substantial interaction with my writing a while ago now) how hard Fawful's dialogue is to write (I don't even know if I did it right but I tried my best) makes the fact that virtually no one's gonna read it quite demotivating, killing my enthusiasm. So, because I still really like the idea and worked hard on this part, I decided to just upload this.

~

Fawful came to as if waking from a long sleep, slowly regaining consciousness. Which… wasn’t right. One would expect oblivion on the other side of exploding what was left of the Dark Star’s power within themself. He’d been dying anyway so might as well go out with a bang and bring his enemies down too. But nope, he opened his eyes to see that he was in the courtyard of Peach’s castle, very much still aware. Which included awareness that something was wrong with his body.

A quick look down at himself confirmed his growing suspicions. He was transparent and floating, his body tapered off into a tail instead of legs. He was a ghost; dead but not gone… free of the Dark Star’s power though. Presumably it had dissipated, leaving him here, powerless and defeated again. … Maybe not entirely though; his foes could still be dead, he had to exploded himself right in front of them, there was no possible way they’d escaped… right?

What if they’d also become ghosts though? … He’d deal with that problem if and when it presented itself. He didn’t even know the criteria for when or why someone turned into a ghost upon death.

So, eager to know the full outcome of his last-ditch efforts for at least a partial victory, he started for the castle. Floating along was quite simple, it was just a matter of wanting and choosing to move forward. He could even ascend and descend freely; so much more convenient than his usual means of levitation.

Where the final encounter had gone down, he wasn’t sure, but judging based off the position of the sun in the sky it was late morning. In his last clear memories, it had been past sundown. Meaning he’d lost some time and thus whatever or whoever was left after his explosion would’ve likely been cleared away by now. With no clear leads on where to start looking for what he wanted to know, he’d head for the throne room first.

He was in luck, Peach was there. Along with her elderly Toad advisor and… the red and green plumbers. They were alive and well, seemingly undamaged by Fawful’s explosion. Ugh! Twice now they’d beat him down and took away everything he’d had, coming away unscathed from it. How? He’d worked and planned so hard to get them out of the way while he took over the Mushroom Kingdom. It had been the perfect plan and should’ve worked… it would’ve if Bowser hadn’t far surpassed Fawful’s expectations for him.

And now he was back at square one. Less than that actually because he was dead. He didn’t have even an ounce of the Dark Star’s power anymore.

Holding back the urge to curse and shout, he floated closer, intending to eavesdrop on his enemies’ conversation. He was too late though, they were already getting ready to separate.

“See you later,” Peach said with a smile as the brothers walked away.

They strode right past where Fawful floated invisible. Green slowed down as he looked around, pulling his arms in a little as if he were cold. His eyes slid right over Fawful of course but it couldn’t be a coincidence, he had some sense of Fawful’s presence and possibly of the hate Fawful was glaring at them with too.

“You okay bro?” Red asked.

“Uh… yeah, I’m just tired, I guess. It’s been a long day.”

With that, Fawful turned away from them as they moved on.

The throne room was still a mess from when he’d forcefully taken it over. Many of his statues were still up in here as well as outside. He’d had it in his grasp, he’d been so close. … Too close to just give up. He would take out the plumbers and he would take over the Mushroom Kingdom, he just needed a new plan.

 -

First things first, he went back to his workshop hidden away in the sewers. He got lost for a while phasing through walls and thus eventually settled on following the paths the way a living person would have to. He’d been so sure he’d never have to venture down here again but… ugh. Failure was even worse when he’d been the sole person in charge.

Maybe if he’d still been working with Cackletta things would’ve gone better. Two heads were better than one after all, right? It was impossible to say though and it wasn’t worth dwelling on; she was dead and gone, even her ghost had been destroyed. … He’d have to be careful to ensure he didn’t suffer such a fate.

By the time he reached his hidden workshop behind his mostly failed attempt at a shop – he’d had to settle for sneaking out to steal things instead until he got a bit more clout – he was equal parts anxious and furious again. He’d lost Midbus and his entire robot army that he’d spent so much time and effort building, how was he supposed to rebuild from here? He’d thrown everything he had at his plan and it wasn’t enough. How could he possibly have done anything more? Why did fulfilling his ambitions and getting vengeance have to be so hard?

 -

He may have allowed himself to wallow around in his workshop for a while. He deserved a bit of self-pity at this point though, didn’t he? And it wasn’t like anyone was around to see anyway so who cared? In the process though he found he could no longer sleep which sucked really hard because it meant no more breaks from his thoughts or anything else. It meant he had to get up and get to work sooner than he otherwise would’ve too because lying in bed unable to fall asleep was the worst.

What should he do though? Maybe look for Midbus, it was possible he’d survived and if so trying to patch him up was probably a good idea; he’d been a good minion. And if he was dead, Fawful was a ghost so maybe Midbus would be too and thus the same principle still applied.

 -

If he’d still had blood it would’ve been boiling at the sight of what was left of the Dark Star extractor. A group of Toads was dismantling it with all the technological grace of a particularly stupid mountain goat headbutting a brick wall until it finally broke. All the many, many hours Fawful had put into designing, building, and perfecting it – not to mention everything else that had gone into this plan as a whole – and they were just ripping it apart like it was worthless scrap. And to top it off, there was no sign of whatever had become of Midbus anywhere in the room.

He floated over to grab one of two the spare hammers left on the ground and flung it at the nearest Toad. Unfortunately, it missed, sailing right over his head, but he screamed anyway, drawing the attention of the rest of the Toads. Oops, maybe Fawful shouldn’t have done that. … Oh well, he was too mad to really care.

“The hammer levitated and flew right…” the Toad was saying, cutting off with a small yelp as Fawful lifted the other hammer to throw as well. This one hit the Toad squarely in head. He teetered for second before going limp into the arms of the Toad beside him who, along with the other two, screamed and bolted for the door, dragging the unconscious Toad with them.

Fawful zoomed over to grab the hammer again and throw at them. It hit the door right as they closed it though. Ugh!

He snapped back around to face his invention again. It was almost entirely dismantled, there’d be no saving it. Not that he had any further use for it anyway, the Dark Star had been destroyed and it was all Bowser and the two wretched fink-rat plumbers’ fault.

But… as angry as he was, he should focus on finding Midbus. His help would be nice for whatever Fawful’s next plan would end up being.

 -

After searching the whole castle and the ground surrounding it, there was still no sign of Midbus. He was either dead and gone, a ghost who’d decided not to stick around the way Fawful had, or alive and recovering from his wounds elsewhere. The latter two might be because Midbus had figured Fawful had been completely destroyed or as was more likely the case that he didn’t care enough to even think to look and was choosing to abandon Fawful.

It didn’t really matter though because no matter what Fawful for sure no longer had Midbus. Which was… fine, he didn’t care, why should he? He’d been on his own before and risen so far, he could do it again. And he’d be successful this time, third time’s the charm after all, right? … Hopefully.

***

Being trapped in a portrait was in some ways worse than in a vault and in some ways better. In the vault he could move even if there wasn’t much space to do so, and speak freely even if no one could hear him, but he couldn’t see anything that was going on outside. In a portrait though, while trapped and unable to move, he could see what was going out in front him.

E. Gadd could’ve easily put something over him, depriving him of even that. But he didn’t. Instead he’d hung King Boo up in the front part of his lab. There wasn’t much to see most of the time but it was better than nothing and he could bide his time here. He’d been dead for a long time so time meant little to him. … Except he’d always been impatient compared to how long he’d existed for.

One could only cycle through all the ways he could’ve improved his prior plans to make them more likely to succeed or about possible new plans and what he’d do to his enemies if/when he finally defeated them before even that got old. And now he was just thinking about being bored for the umpteenth time, making it a boring thing to think about too. Truly one could not get any more bored than that. And yet there was nothing else to do but think and think and be bored and hate the people who’d done this to him and be bored some more. If only something would fucking happen.

As if the thought had brought it about, the doorbell rang. It was most likely just Luigi coming for a visit because he did that sometimes or a door-to-door salesperson but it would break the boredom of staring at an empty room for a little bit at least. And if he was really lucky, Luigi might even glance his way with a nervous expression before following E. Gadd into the lab proper.

As was often the case, it took three rings before E. Gadd came out of his lab to answer it. He didn’t spare King Boo a single look as he walked over to open the door. “Oh hello,” he said in a tone that indicated that it wasn’t Luigi at the door. Which could only mean it was someone new. Awesome! Too bad King Boo couldn’t see them from this angle.

“This be the residence of E. Gadd, yes?” The voice had an odd quality to it almost as if it might be coming over a speaker or radio.

“Yes, now might I ask why a…” He cut off as a cloud of thick purple smoke engulfed him, centering on his head. “What is…” Another cloud puffed in from outside. Whatever was going on here was getting more exciting by the second.

Before the smoke had cleared, a little green drone flew into them room. It looked around for a bit before it seemed to freeze looking at King Boo. It zoomed over for a better look.

“Aha!” whoever was controlling it said through it. “I have success! … I think. It could be being a painting that is normal. Hopefully and probably not because why would E. Gadd be having a painting of King Boo if it is not being actual King Boo?”

Weird way of talking or no, whoever this fellow was had just made King Boo’s day. … Assuming he was here to rescue King Boo anyway, it was possible he just wanted to steal the portrait. But even that would be exciting and changing hands would increase the likelihood of his boos being able to come in and free him.

The ghost of a beanish person with swirly eyes, wearing a cape and holding what had to be the drone’s remote control floated through the still open door.  “Stay in corner,” he snapped at E. Gadd who was kind of just standing around now. “Fawful has no time for the gloating yet, in humans mind control spray be wearing off faster than the joy of eating the last cookie in the jar.”

“Yes, right away, Lord Fawful,” E. Gadd said, his cadence almost normal as he moved to obey.

Fawful then looked down at the controller to neatly land the drone on the desk. He placed the controller next to it before zooming over to pull King Boo’s portrait off the wall. He poked and prodded at it a bit before turning it over, presumably do poke and prod at the back too for a few seconds before flipping it back over.

“E. Gadd! How one be freeing King Boo from the frame?”

“Shine a dark light on it.”

“Where is dark light? Fetch it for me, quickly.”

The sound of E. Gadd walking out of the room indicated that he obeyed. He returned a few seconds later to hand one of his flashlights to Fawful. “The switch on the side turns on the dark light.”

“Good, go back to corner.”

King Boo was mentally vibrating with anticipation as Fawful leaned him back against the wall. Next, he floated back to shine the dark light squarely on the portrait. The sensation of being pulled out of it was odd and uncomfortable as always but as soon as he free, he was laughing with exhilaration. Freedom at long last was his!

The very first thing he did with this newfound freedom was levitate the now empty portrait out from behind him and float over to E. Gadd to put him inside it instead. It was harder to do without an enchanted crown to channel his magic through and lacking its stored power to assist him but he got it done. E. Gadd, still affected by the mind control spray didn’t fight it, resulting in a rather calm looking portrait of him. … Expressions of fear were preferable but whatever; King Boo was free and E. Gadd was trapped and that’s all that mattered right now. He might try to fix it later but for now…

Leaning the portrait against the wall to be retrieved later, he snapped back around to face Fawful again. “I appreciate the rescue. I know you didn’t do it for no reason though. What do you want in return?” As long as it was reasonable and within his means, he’d probably grant it. He was that grateful and being generous had gained him many loyal followers in the past and he was always open to more followers.

Fawful grinned wide, even chuckling a little as his ghostly tail curled in visible anticipation or perhaps nerves. “I have the wish to offer an alliance.”

King Boo had been down this road before with Hellen and that had turned out terribly but it didn’t hurt to hear him out. “What kind of alliance?”

“Well… as new ghost, Fawful was wondering around Peach’s castle unseen, hearing many things, seeing many more. Whispers about King Boo were common, your hatred for the red and green plumbers clear as a glass of wine after one has found nothing but sorrow at the bottom of. So the alliance: Fawful will be helping take down plumbers and at the same time, King Boo will be helping in the conquering of the Mushroom Kingdom for my taking.”

“You want to conquer the Mushroom Kingdom, huh?” King Boo wasn’t into kingdom conquering himself, he was perfectly content with the land he had and didn’t desire any more especially if it was infested with living.

“Yes.” Fawful nodded. “I be wanting a kingdom and I don’t be liking the red and green plumbers so I will be taking their kingdom. With our alliance like the icing on the cake, I leave the vengeance of them to you.”

Given how many times Luigi had sucked him up into that wretched vacuum of his, King Boo might actually be willing to go along with this even if to an outsider looking in, Fawful would appear to be getting much more out of it. But really, a good chunk of the work in taking over the Mushroom Kingdom would be done with just taking out Mario and Luigi. If it worked, King Boo desire for vengeance was more than strong enough to make assisting with the rest of it worth it. But… “How do I know you can carry your weight in such a scheme?” No way was he going to be doing everything himself with his supposed ally barely helping.

“Because if was not for a certain spiky snack being much spicier than expected, Fawful’s last plan would’ve been success.” With that, as if eager to share his tale, he launched into it explaining his last plan and how close he’d gotten to succeeding.

Honestly it was a rather entertaining tale, especially the way he told it. King Boo had been around more than long enough to know about the Dark Star so that gave credibility to his tale because few living knew of it by now. He had gotten rather close to succeeding though.

“And so,” Fawful said after his tale had winded down, “I be thinking in terms of evil schemes we are near equals. Our goals don’t align but they be overlapping like multilayered cake of ambition and vengeance. Working together we could perhaps be making a plan that is unstoppable like large boulder made of vengeance and knives rolling down steep cliff crushing any daring to be standing in its path, including nasty plumbers.”

Maybe King Boo should take a bit to think about this, confirm Fawful’s tale of near success over the Mario bros with one of his castle spies, but after spending who even knew how long trapped in a portrait after his third defeat, he was rather eager to set in motion some vengeance. Besides, he was starting to like Fawful, he was odd but in a way that made him interesting, far more so than Hellen – not that that was too difficult to do. And who knows, maybe all King Boo’s plans had been missing was a horde of killer robots. So… “All right, I’ll agree to an alliance.”

With an excited snicker, Fawful extended a hand out of his cloak to shake King Boo’s hand – something that stubby boo arms always made weird but he didn’t say anything about it – sealing the alliance. If this didn’t turn out well then so be it, it wouldn’t be the first plan or even first failed alliance King Boo had attempted. But it was worth a try in case it worked and regardless it should at least make for an interesting time. “First though, I need to free my boos. Then we can go somewhere to discuss the finer details.”

#My writing #super mario bros #Luigi's Mansion #Mario & Luigi Bowser's Inside Story #King Boo #Fawful

[officialdcshepard]

The Marble Emperor

**DISCLAIMER: This short story was originally written back in 2014 for a college writing class.**

*May 28th, 1453*

Byzantine Emperor Constantine XI Dragaš Palaiologos knelt on the cold marble floor of the Hagia Sophia, the church at the center of Constantinople, with his head bowed and his eyes closed in prayer.

“To surrender the city to you is beyond my authority or anyone else's who lives in it, for all of us, after taking the mutual decision, shall die out of free will without sparing our lives,” he had growled as he threw the Turkish delegation out.

His father Manuel II, his mother Helena, and his older brother John VIII had prepared Constantine his entire life for the possibility that the Ottomans would one day try to destroy the Empire. (If they were here, they would know what to do, he thought solemnly.) Their stories of the centuries of Muslim atrocities against Christians horrified him as a child. And he suffered a bitter military loss when the Turks drove his armies from an attempted conquest of Athens back to Corinth in 1446. Therefore, from the moment he took the throne in 1449, he undertook to strengthen the city and spill their blood fighting for it. But now those very words of defiance came back to bite him like vipers that now hissed with the accusation, What empire is there left to destroy? What empire indeed? The Byzantines were the eastern, Greek speaking descendants of the Roman Empire, which once had uncontested dominion from Britain to Persia. After ten centuries of weathering attacks from barbarians, Muslims, and Christians alike, however, the Byzantines now only ruled a small portion of the southernmost part of Greece called the Despotate of the Morea (astride what used to be Sparta), a handful of Aegean islands, and the immediate environs of Constantinople.

And yet, Constantine reflected, he was not truly alone in this fight. Kneeling in prayer beside him was Giovanni Gustiniani. Constantine had joked to Giovanni during a rare break in the siege that he was the only good man to ever come out of Genoa. But it was true. The Italian had sailed to Constantinople’s aid with seven hundred Genoese mercenaries. But far more importantly, he quickly became Constantine’s protostrator (or second in command) and made sure the ragtag Byzantine, Genoese, and Venetian soldiers remained unified and could effectively defend the walls. Without his help, the city would not have held out for as long as it had so far.

Right now, though, Giovanni looked worried as he turned to Constantine. Constantine did his best to not show the fear that this look caused to spread through his whole body. If Giovanni was nervous, then surely something must be wrong. But Constantine dared not show his trepidation. He certainly could not afford to appear weak in front of the throng of thousands of civilian refugees who had been praying with them. They now took shelter in the center of this cathedral that remained strong for them and that housed the priests who fed them with meager stores of bread, even as paint from the mosaics peeled off and critical masonry in the walls started to show cracks and strain. It seemed to the Emperor that his subjects were also barely holding themselves together, especially recently.

On the night of May 22nd, when the Moon rose, it was partially eclipsed by the Earth's shadow and its light glowed red like blood. This already caused enough panic for Constantine and what remained of his government in a city that had been besieged for a month to have to deal with. To make things worse, rumors flew around that there was a prophecy that the city would fall after a blood moon. Then four days later, the entire city was blanketed by a large, thick, and choking cloud of black fog. When the fog lifted, there appeared around the dome of the Hagia Sophia a strange multicolored light, which some hoped came from the fires of foreign armies come to relieve the city. Most, however, despaired, wailing throughout the crumbling streets that the Holy Spirit had abandoned the capital to the heathens.

Under these circumstances, Constantine could not blame anyone for panicking. He almost envied that they were able to scream.

"Is there something that troubles you, my friend?" he asked calmly, placing a large, weary hand on the Italian captain's shoulder.

"I don't know quite how to say this, my lord..."

"Please. We have known each other long enough, Giovanni. It is Constantine."

"Alright- Constantine," Giovanni stammered quietly, hoping that he wasn't disturbing the Latin and Greek churchmen and the Imperial nobility who sat immediately behind him as the service continued. "I am afraid I must beg leave to attend to the walls. It appears that the Turks are concentrating their cannon fire on the Blachernae." These were the most weakened walls, and were situated in the northwest of the city.

“I will excuse you and ask for God's forgiveness on your behalf if He should be offended by this," Constantine nodded.

As Giovanni attempted to slink towards the exit without arousing the panic of the commoners or the offended huffs of the churchmen, Constantine wished that he could leave. He was, of course, a very devout Christian, and it was important that the Emperor remain implacably, solemnly beseeching of God's mercy at a time like this. But now he could very well feel the weight of the sword on his right hip and the shield leaning on his left arm, and he knew they would soon be needed.

*****

*Rumeli Hisari, Ottoman Fortress Just North of Constantinople*

"Are you sure that it will not break this time?" Sultan Mehmed shouted at Orban the Dacian, his Hungarian gunsmith. He did this not out of any anger towards the other man, but simply in order for his words to be heard over the constant gunfire.

"Yes, my lord," Orban bowed. "I have made several small but important improvements to the design since the last time we fired it."

"Excellent, my friend," Mehmed replied.

However, the Sultan made a careful mental note to keep an eye on Orban. He had initially offered to work for the Byzantines. It was only because his asking price was too high and because the Byzantines did not have the resources necessary for what he was asking to create them that he had changed sides, and that would pose a problem.

“When will it be ready?"

Orban's blond mustache trembled before he said, "I- I have the full team of sixty oxen and four hundred men rolling it into position in front of the fort even as we speak."

"Good," Mehmed smiled, something which Orban had rarely seen.

Orban then enthusiastically cried, "I will go down there and personally make sure that it is aimed and fired properly. Where would you like me to aim it?"

"See how the other cannons are concentrating their fire at the northwest corner?" Mehmed asked and then pointed.

Orban nodded and immediately rushed down and made preparations to fire upon the Blachernae. At whatever price his loyalty may have been bought to start with, with that gesture Mehmed was now confident that Orban would remain on his side.

When he came to the throne two years earlier after the death of his father, Sultan Murad II, no one would have ever thought that Mehmed, then only nineteen, would ever inspire any kind of loyalty or do anything great. Even Mehmed himself had not been confident in himself when he took the throne.

He had done it before, ruling for a short time when his father abdicated in 1444. But he was only twelve at the time. Frustrated when his teachers assumed he could not do anything competently, took power out from under him, and then nearly ran the entire nation into the ground, Mehmed had had to supplicate his father to return to the throne and resented being lectured by the old fool afterwards. Thereafter father and son bitterly resented each other.

Mehmed had not wanted to have to go through it all again, and almost cursed Allah for taking his father away and making him do this.

But as his father lay dying in 1451, he had summoned young Mehmed into his chambers and had him sit beside him on the bed and read from one of the hadiths, a report of the deeds and sayings of the Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him). In it he said, "Verily you shall conquer Constantinople. What a wonderful leader will he be, and what a wonderful army will that army be!"

"I know that you can do what I could not, my son," Sultan Murad coughed, and then closed his eyes and drifted into Paradise.

His teacher Ak Şemseddin had drilled into him from the moment he could read that it was his Islamic duty to capture Constantinople. And now, as he wept for the loss of his father, Mehmed was reminded of that. He knew what his first act in office must be, and knew that the Christian and Muslim enemies that surrounded him would never take him seriously unless he did this. Therefore, from the moment he had taken the throne, Mehmed prepared his armies to crush Constantinople. In doing so, he would succeed where Muslim armies had failed since 678. In the process he would eliminate a small but annoying foe in the middle of his country, establish for it a natural capital, and turn his Sultanate into an heir to the glory of Rome herself.

Of course, since he was a reasonable man, he had first offered a way for Byzantine "Emperor" Constantine to step down without bloodshed. He didn’t expect Constantine would *agree*, but all this blood was now on the Greek.

"Fire!" the Sultan cried once Orban had positioned the cannon correctly. It was now midnight on the morning of May 29th, and the Sultan now prayed that this would mark the final assault that would deliver the city to himself, his people, and to Allah.

No sooner had the fuse been lit then the hiss and pop of the fire dancing on the edges of the rope that fed itself into the monstrous bronze beast echoed within its cavernous belly. To some who were on the ground, it was almost was as if this cannon, which was heavier than several ships put together, was an unholy djinn taking a deep inhalation before breathing out terrible fire upon its enemies. And when it belched its black smoke, wheels taller than two men standing on top of one another nearly buckled from the recoil as the ball sailed across the Golden Horn, the small inlet that formed the northern boundary of Constantinople.

Several soldiers immediately noticed another loud bang emerge from the metal dragon. But none of them remembered loading and firing it at all, which seemed odd. One went to take a closer look. By the time he heard another angry shout emerging from the cracks, however, an enraged fireball devoured him and spat out only ash in its wake. The frightened rabbits ran for their lives but it was already too late. Mehmed could not bear to watch the carnage below him. When the bloated weapon finally shuddered and died, he despaired to learn that was left of Orban had been incinerated in the blast and crushed by falling pieces of bronze as well.

Struggling to keep away tears so as not to panic those men who still lived and were dealing with the horror of seeing their mangled comrades, the Sultan's eyes followed the cannonball for a moment before he knelt on the fortress's walls and made this solemn prayer.

"Allah, if it be your will, bring Orban into Paradise and let his death not have been in vain. Bless our endeavor this night and deliver Constantinople unto us."

"What will you have me do, my lord?" the Commander of the Janissaries, the Empire's brave, elite soldiers, asked the Sultan.

"Assemble every man you have and prepare to attack!"

*****

"All of you, get away from the walls and take cover!" Giovanni cried. He was at the front of the line, waving with his sword and banging his shield to get the attention of those who were still manning the Blachernae guard posts at that moment.

Most saw his message and tried to escape by leaping away from the towers and onto piles of hay below. This did not work at all, but fortunately, when compared to those who were caught on the walls when the cannonball slammed into them, their deaths were swift and painless.

Giovanni squinted as his entire body and his suit of armor was coated in a thin layer of powdered limestone from the hole that had been punched through the city's defenses. And worse, mere moments seemed to pass before a horde of howling Turks streamed through the walls, seemingly endless. And not just any Turks.

Janissaries.

Brutal, merciless, and born only to kill and maim, these monstrous, gnarled mercenaries drove fear into the hearts of the defenders.

"Stand your ground!" Giovanni yelled. "For we will fight and die honorably and on our feet, as our Roman forefathers did before us!"

He did not get to say much more before a river of Turkish shields slammed against his own. The Italian leaned his shoulder into his shield to push back against them and stabbed his foes through whatever hole in their guard he could find, coating the cobblestones generously with their blood.

Just as Giovanni was about to say something further to rally the defenders to push the Turks back towards the breach in the wall, a crossbow bolt lodged itself in his throat and stifled the Emperor's friend forever. And as word of Giovanni's death spread around the ranks, the Byzantines and their foreign allies broke ranks and retreated now that the man who had single-handedly kept the Empire together was gone.

“Why are they retreating?" Emperor Constantine asked to himself with his hands folded behind his long purple robes, even though he already knew what the answer was.

"I do not know, my lord," one of the churchmen said.

"The Turks are pouring into the city like a river!" a man who used to be a merchant yelled. "We're doomed!"

"I just saw two priests disappear into the cathedral walls! God is punishing us up for our sins," a woman sobbed.

But then, even though Constantine was coming apart at the moment he knew the city was lost, the Emperor walked calmly through the teeming masses and said, "My friends, fellow Romans! Do not despair. For whatever happens this night, trust in our Lord and Savior, for he has said to us, 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven'."

With that, Constantine commanded the guards still inside to bolt the doors to the Hagia Sophia, quickly picked up his sword and shield, and ran through the city in full armor, fueled by adrenaline to meet with his men before they could completely retreat.

His robes were long and cumbersome and the trappings of what little of his Imperial office he had left now only served to slow him down. With that, he cried at the top of his lungs, "The city is fallen and I am still alive," tore them off so as to no longer distinguish himself from his soldiers, and charged into the fray with them. After that, no one saw Constantine again.

Some say even to this day that just at the moment of his death, an angel flew in and carried the beloved last Emperor of Rome away. Others say he left the battle, stood atop a platform overlooking the carnage, and wept before hanging himself.

From that moment on, he became the Marble Emperor, turned to stone and entombed underneath the city until he would awaken again in its hour of need. Simultaneously, legends grew that the two priests who disappeared into the walls of Hagia Sofia would reemerge when the city would be retaken by the soldiers of Christ.

*****

The great oak doors to the Hagia Sophia now leaned slackly against the rotting pillars of stone as the Sultan entered the passageway. It had only been three days since the Ottomans captured Constantinople and already his workers were busy painting over the mosaics of Mary with child with beautiful white Arabic lettering on top of a simple black background, as well as placing minarets at the tops of the towers. Within a month, his planners told him, the mosque would be renovated enough to allow for Friday prayers to be read.

Mehmed's soldiers had also been hard at work looting over the past three days, an enterprise that personally disgusted the young ruler. But this had to be allowed, if only for this limited amount of time, for soldiers on any side of a war these days were often a fickle bunch, prone to deserting if every little demand of theirs was not met. For instance, he had had to build Rumeli Hisari in the shape of the Arabic letters for Muhammad in order to keep morale up, and that had only lasted a week. (It hadn't hurt, however, that his name was styled the same way.)

The results of the three day looting period were almost too much for him to gaze upon. Elderly men who just days earlier had been praying for deliverance from the prophet Isa, who they called Jesus, were now stacked on wagons and preparing to be dumped into the Bosporus. Children were in shackles, about to be sold to slave markets as far as the Songhai in the heart of Africa. And women and young girls were weeping, their clothes in tatters.

He could do nothing about those whose freedom had already been lost, but now his voice boomed through the mosque,

"Henceforth, those who are still in hiding will not be harmed."

Hopefully, he thought, this would be the first step in beginning to rebuild the city to its former glory. Soon, he reasoned, it would become the glorious, shimmering golden crown of an Empire without end. It would welcome commerce from all over the world, shelter Muslim, Christian, and Jew, and become the greatest power the world had ever known. "The spider weaves the curtains in the palace of the Caesars and the owl calls the watches in the towers of Afrasiab," Mehmed had proclaimed when he first stepped into the city. Hopefully, that would not be the case for much longer.

#history #byzantine #ottoman #war #christianity #islam #writing #my writing #short story

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Devil of Gronkk - A Halloween Story

“Gather around, children, if you wish to hear a scaaaaaaary story!” the Storyteller laughed as she gestured to the group of children in front of her in a tucked away corner of the Grand Piazza of Lion’s Arch. Charr cubs, asuran progenies, human and norn children, and even a few newly born sylvari, most dressed in costumes of some sort, all sat on the ground in front of the cloaked woman, most of her face hidden by her oversized hood. Once everyone was seated, she sat in an ornately carved chair, its high back towering over her. Her cloak fell open revealing an ornate black silk dress embroidered with dark red accents. Various carved pumpkins, their faces glowing by candlelight, sat on the ground around her and the children, forming a half circle, as a smaller pumpkin, it’s ghoulish face flickering in the darkness, sat on a table next to the Storyteller.

“Now who wants to hear a story of the Devil of Grunkk!?” she asked whimsically.

“OOoohhh!! I do! I do!” hands raised into the air and the children yelled their approval.

She raised her hands, clad in red and black embroidered silk adorned with silver jewelry, and gestured with them whimsically, producing an image of a sylvari suspended in the air.

“Good! Let us get started, shall we!?”

“So close…” Faeyin quietly squealed. A sylvari of the Pale Tree, she hung upside down from a rope in the study of a mansion in the high residences of Lion’s Arch. She had heard of an artifact that housed a gem of considerable value that was in the custody of a rather wealthy merchant that owned a shipping company. She carefully cut a small hole in the top of the glass case holding the amulet that she desired. She gently fed a small clasp into it, locking it into place. With her cutter, she drew a circle around the clasp, cutting the glass through. She carefully lifted the newly cut disc away from the case.

“And now…” she carefully reached in and plucked the amulet from its display. Withdrawing her hand, she quickly secured it in small pouch in her chest piece. In an instant she flipped upright and started climbing the rope, stopping near the skylight as a slight chill washed over her. She shrugged it off and climbed out of the window. Rolling up her rope, she heard someone behind her. She turned, throwing a small knife at the footsteps. The weapon clattered across the roof as there was no one there. She dropped the rope and grabbed her dagger from her hip, activating the fiery blade as she quickly glanced around. Making her way to the knife, she looked around everywhere as she knelt to grab the weapon. A giant dark cloud of smoke and ghostly bats suddenly erupted from the skylight spewing out over the rooftop. Faeyin leapt backwards over the edge of the mansion.

“Oh boy! This just got interesting!” she yelped as she landed in the grass yard beside the structure. Looking to the sky, she could see the billowing fog erupting into the night sky as a cloud of whispy bats came flying at her. She bolted across the grounds and leapt over the fence into the street, racing away from the domicile as fast as she could.

“Ms. Storyteller!” a charr cub raised his hand in the air.

“Fae…yes?” She looked at him.

“Is her knife magical?”

“Well, if you listen to the story, maybe we will find out?”  The Storyteller smiled as she handed out pieces of candy to the children sitting around her.

“Now, let’s continue.” she said, a big smile on her face.

Faeyin darted through the streets of Lion’s Arch as fast as she could. She finally stopped when she noticed the cloud following her had finally dissipated. Ducking into an alley to catch her breath, she removed the amulet from its satchel. Activating a small lamp, she looked over the intricately carved gold plate, focusing on the brilliant blue gem embedded in its center. She noticed a small murky cloud floating around within the gleaming exterior.

“Oh my…” she whispered to herself. “What do we have here?” The dark cloud within pooled into the center of the gem.

“I found you.” A deep voice growled in the alley. Faeyin turned, the light from her lamp being swallowed by the billowing darkness that was washing through the alleyway.

“Thorns!” she dashed out into the street. The black fog rolling out behind her. She could hear the hiss of the fog shaped bats chasing behind her.  She yelled at a group of pedestrians that were returning from the Halloween festival being held in the city center.

“RUN! Get away as fast as you can!” as she ran by them. The group froze as the black cloud washed over them, pulling them within itself.

“I have a question!” a young asuran progeny raised her hand.

“Yes, what is it?’ the Storyteller asked.

“If it’s fog, how did it grab them?”

“It’s magical living fog that will grab you if you aren’t careful and take you into a dark world full of demons and monsters that you will never escape.” The Storyteller responded playfully menacingly. The progeny’s eyes grew big at the thought.

“Now, let’s get back to the story.”

As the street took a downward slope, Faeyin started ducking between buildings and darting through alleyways trying to get away from the billowing cloud that was in pursuit.

“What in Tyria is this thing!?” she asked out loud. “And how do I stop it!?” She glanced over her shoulder in hopes that she had gotten away from it. Seeing nothing of the sort behind her, she slowed down to catch her breath once again.

“Well, it seems I need to figure out what this thing is?” she breathed in deep looking at the amulet. “There must be someone here that can help.”

“And just want do you need help with?”  a voice said behind her. She yelped and spun around, pulling out her dagger.

“Whoa! Whoa!” a male human shouted; his eyes wide with his hands up as she held the weapon to his neck. “I’m not gonna attack you or anything!”

Faeyin narrowed her eyes as she studied his face. It was painted in a somewhat familiar design.

“And just who…ah, are you supposed to be Prince Thorn?” she asked.

“That’s who I’m dressed as for the festival. And who might you be?”

“Doesn’t matter. But what does matter is that you need to get off the street. There is a monster out there devouring anyone it comes across.”

“Well, that certainly is a tale to fit the season. And what does this creature look like?”

“A black fog. Some smokey looking bats.”

“Hmm…I guess I should watch my step.” He said, slightly disbelieving. “Anyway, I might be able to help you with that fancy trinket you got there.” He nodded at the amulet, which was firmly in her grasp.

“I don’t think so.” She placed it securely back in its satchel.

“Look, I don’t know much about fancy jewelry, but I do know there is someone who might be able to help. A jeweler named Roland Lambombard in Merchant Row down near the festival area. He seems to have a knack for odd pieces. He has a place set up there. If you hurry, you might catch him before he leaves for the night.”

“A jeweler you say?” She asked raising an eyebrow, a slight smirk on her face. “Well thank you. I’ll check him out.” Faeyin smiled lightly as she returned her weapon to her side.

“Um…Ms. Storyteller?” one of the sylvari sheepishly raised his hand.

“Yes, sapling?”

“Is…is he going to die?”

“We’ll just have to find out now, won’t we?” she responded.

Faeyin cautiously made her way through the streets, laughter and singing filled the air as she drew closer to the Grand Piazza of Lion’s Arch. Many of the local pubs were brimming with festival goers filling the air with joyous atmosphere. She searched around along the merchant booths for the jeweler in question, stopping in front of a shuttered booth whose sign read “Lambombard”.

“Well…” she sighed. “Bad luck here, I guess.” She turned looking around the area for anyone that might be able to help. She spied another merchant close by that was in the process of closing up shop for the night.

“Excuse me, miss.” Faeyin approached the female charr.

“Yes?” the woman growled, continuing to close her booth.

“Could you possible tell me where I may find Mr. Lambombard this evening?”

“He had to leave a little early. Got word something happened at his home up on the hillside.”

“Oh…um…thank you.” Faeyin turned abruptly and walked away, realizing where the jeweler was heading. “Oh boy…” she whispered to herself. “Surely there is someone else here to help…” she thought to herself.

“Return the amulet to me.” Faeyin heard the deep growling voice again. She turned and saw the dense fog billowing through the lane.

“What in Tyria is that!?” the charr asked.

“Just run!” Faeyin yelled.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” The charr woman raced away as fast as she could with Faeyin close behind. They heard a rushing of wind and a loud clap of thunder that knocked them to the ground.

“You dare stand against me!” the voice boomed. Faeyin turned to see another sylvari standing in the street. He was clad in bright blue robes holding a sylvari styled staff. Another sylvari stood nearby, with a bow at the ready, a raven perched on her mushroom head.

“We had heard about a smoke cloud moving through the city terrorizing the populance.” the woman spoke.

“And you’ll will go no further, creature.” the other continued.

“OOoooooohhh!” the children gasped.

“They’re going to save the day!” one of the norn children quipped. The Storyteller smiled at the group as she passed out another piece of candy to them.

“Then you will serve me like the rest of those cretins! Minions, destroy them!” The sylvari heard the shuffling of feet as a group of people slowly walked out of the murky cloud.

“Oh no…” Faeyin gasped as she recognized some of them, including the man dressed as Prince Thorn, as the people she passed on the streets. Wispy black smoke flowed from around their eyes and out of their noses and mouths. She saw the two sylvari raise their weapons.

“Don’t hurt them!” Faeyin screamed. “They’re being controlled!” The duo glanced at each other. The woman launched an arrow which pierced through the knee of the Prince Thorn actor, causing him to scream in pain and drop to the ground.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m outta here.” The charr spoke and dashed away.

“Well, they aren’t undead.” The male spoke. He raised his staff a moment and pointed it at the group, sending a bolt of lightning through them. They stood convulsing for a moment before dropping. Faeyin noticed the lightning arc over something of considerable size within the cloud.

“GRRAAAHH!!” the voice bellowed. “You will pay for that with your lives!”

“Oh! It’s the devil!” one of the children shouted. The Storyteller smiled as she looked upon the group.

“Something…or someone is in that cloud!” Faeyin shouted.

“Return the amulet to me and I will spare your lives!” the voice boomed. Faeyin removed the amulet from her satchel.

“What’s so special about this trinket?”

“Return it! Now!” The cloud started moving towards the trio.

“Terebellum, strike it with lightning again.” The mushroom head sylvari ordered. The blue clad sylvari raised his staff in the air and pointed it once again, launching a lightning bolt into the cloud. Again, it struck something within the cloud, arcing over it.

“AAAHHH!!! Now you die!” The cloud seemed to shuffle along slowly. Faeyin unhooked her dagger from her belt, igniting the blade.

“I’ll be right back.” She said as she ran into the dark fog.

“What are you doing!?” the voice spoke. “What! Get away! Don’t strike that!” There was the sound of metal clanging. The duo could see the firey blade of Faeyin’s dagger faintly moving about in the fog.

“Vespertilio, do you think we should help?” There were sounds of what seemed to be a struggle followed by the sound of a crash.

“No, I don’t think so.” She replied. The fog slowly dissipated as Faeyin walked towards them, dragging what seemed to be an asura behind her.

“Let me go! You’ll pay for this!” the asura yelled at her. Terebellum and Vespertilio could see the inoperable remains of a small hovering chair laying on the ground once the fog had cleared. Faeyin plopped the asura down in front of them.

“Here’s our mysterious voice.” she said. They looked at the asura, who was dressed in a worn black robe, wearing an ornate skull mask with horns. Vespertilio pulled the mask from him, revealing and older asuran face.

“Wait…I know you. You’re the asuran necromancer Gronkk.” Vespertilio spoke somewhat stunned. “You disappeared last year while trying to trap Mad King Thorn when he appeared in the plaza.”

“Yes, and unfortunately, the runes on my amulet were backwards and I ended up trapped in my own amulet, which your friend here released me when she unknowingly broke the wards keeping me there. Now, if you will, may I please have my amulet back?”

“Um, I think you would be better off without it. After all the trouble you caused this night. Perhaps we should get the Lionguard.” Faeyin crossed her arms. It wasn’t long before members of the guard arrived and took the asura away, while others helped the wounded festival goers.

“You’ll pay for this!” he shouted as they marched him off.

“Thanks for your help.” Faeyin said to the duo.

“It was no problem. Glad we could be of service.” Vespertilio replied. “Should we celebrate a little?”

“I think we should.” Terebellum agreed. Faeyin nodded as they headed to the nearest pub.

The Storyteller handed out one last piece of candy to the children as she concluded her story.

“Now please enjoy the festival!” she quipped as they ran off.

“I do believe you are actually enjoying this.” Amaranda spoke nearby, eating from a cup of ice cream. Ceara lowered the hood of her cloak as she turned to her sister.

“It’s fun!” Ceara replied smiling, plucking a piece of candy from the bowl. Amaranda walked up to next to her. “And besides…” Ceara continued, lowering her gaze to the ground momentarily before looking towards the children in the distance, a somber look crept across her face. “It’s the least I can do for them.”

“You do remember what Faeyin told you, right?” Amaranda asked, scooping the last of her ice cream from the cup.

“’If you keep living in the past, you will never step into the future.’ I remember.” Ceara smiled lightly as she gazed off toward the harbor.

“Come on.” Amaranda grabbed her by the wrist. “I think I hear some chocolate ice cream calling your name.”  

“You know me too well now.” Ceara said as the pair walked out into the festival grounds.

FIN

#Guild Wars 2 #GW2 #Scarlet Briar #Amaranda the Lonesome #Sylvari #Halloween #Shadow of the Mad King #Tyrias-Library

[vaguely-gestures-to-the-void]

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

Welcome back folks. Read the innocence dying inside me as I accept that this show eats my expectations for lunch and leaves me like it's going to buy milk.

As a side note from what I said in my first review, here’s an interesting article. Apparently I was clowning because the Gobi desert scene was filmed (probably? idk) with the tech from the Mandalorian. I think the studios were the same. Oh well. https://www.atlasofwonders.com/2021/06/loki-filming-locations.html

Episode 4: THE NEXUS EVENT

Pre-title scene

The new perspective of Asgard is incredible.

Oh baby Sylvie, what did they do to you. Also, RAVONNA??

The TVA through a child’s eyes is heartbreaking. The mixed use of shots that were familiar (the feet walking into the TVA) and new (the TVA logo on the floor) convey how though routine, this is an alien experience for Sylvie.

She too wants to help the man being dragged in. Maybe Sylvie was a better person than Loki, the TVA taking her away was what changed it.

We don’t see Casey, but iIt’s the same ‘sign here’ guy. The changing perspective and music really alters the mood created, contrasting the whimsical procedure we followed in episode one.

She hadn’t even said much in her life. They knew how to influence the audience’s emotions, that's for sure. Props to the actress, I felt genuine concern for her before I remembered that she’s acting.

TVA

Ravonna probably underestimated Sylvie as a Loki, a mistake that cost her greatly.

The golden doors.

Ravonna looks tense and a bit fearful.

Scattered throughout the episode are eyes watching. George Orwell’s 1984, anyone?

Big Brother is watching.

Mobius! He’s a good friend to Ravonna, but there’s a power imbalance.

Ravonna is shaken. Her past failure is haunting her.

Someone edit the “What? How?” into “Wow.” It’ll be a service.

Lamentis - 1

Loki’s apology and Sylvie reflecting on her childhood are the conclusion to the previous episode. Faced with death, Loki realises that her goals were hindered by his actions. His apology is the first time he acknowledges he had something to do with it. Sylvie’s offering her emotional vulnerability in the form of memories. Her mind and experiences are her most prized possession because they’re all she has of the person who she was as Loki, her childhood and what she was supposed to be. Her glorious purpose, what really makes a Loki a ‘Loki’ was her life.

THEY TRUST EACH OTHER. THIS WAS WHAT CAUSED THE NEXUS EVENT.

C H A R A C T E R D E V E L O P M E N T.

Ravonna pointed out that Loki will always be a “lying scourge” but they went against this. In any timeline, this could cause a nexus event. They found a middle ground.

“That should be setting off alarms if someone steps on the wrong leaf.” I had a whole idea about entropy and the timeline being an isolated system but I struggled to define an isolated system, and thus I couldn’t use the whole irreversible process causing entropy to grow causing a br- if you have a clue of what I’m going on about, or want to know more, I’ll explain my thoughts. I can understand why this isn’t scientifically accurate and I’m no physicist.

The unbranched timeline means all the things that were speculated - Wanda’s kids, what happened on Saakar, all of it - is gone.

“Any news on C - 20?”I called it! B-15 is having doubts! Her subtle unease building up throughout the ep is perfect!

Most settlements have a street design that can be from space. Sharru doesn’t.

“No. We may lose... ...you’re amazing!” Damn it literally took the end of a world for Loki to change as a person.

“Their smiles. If that isn’t people accepting their deaths I don’t know what is. Man, I just want both of them to be happy.

Please don’t let that be the love theme, it’s so pretty.

The music fading into the TVA theme as they get separated is so sad.

Time Theater 25

Back to square one in terms of trust with these two, but now they have history and hurt feelings too!

Oh Mobius.

Cycles are a part of who Loki is within Norse mythology (from what I know, correct me if I’m wrong). This scene is conflict.

Loki needs both Mobius and Sylvie to incite change. One can empathise whilst the other believes in him.

Mobius believes in Loki like no one else in the TVA. He treats him like an individual, they developed a bond in episode 2, so his disappointment and anger were genuine. This is reflected in their dialogue.

Even when Loki was going through all the Feels in ep 1, he didn’t shout at Mobius. It makes it more heartbreaking when Mobius laughs and dismisses him after the “TVA is lying to you” thing. His laugh was so bitter, it’s like his belief that Loki would be the variant to prove that variants were individuals had been shattered. What Mobius doesn’t realise is that Loki was genuinely trying to warn him. The trust between them was fragile but Mobius needed to come to his own conclusions before he could see that Loki had broken out of the mold the Time Keepers set for him.

“Just kind of an asshole and a bad friend.” Y’all, Mobius doesn’t rise to Loki’s baits. He’s so hurt.

I can’t be the only one that thought Loki was going to be brainwashed when they saw the red door. Turns out it’s just a time cell.

I love Mobius but he makes me feel so conflicted. Oh shit, he’s my problematic fave.

Watching Loki get his ass handed to him by Lady Sif shouldn’t be this funny.

This particular memory reflects what Mobius will talk about later, Loki being abandon by the people around him.

Putting Loki through a memory that was physically and emotionally painful was nasty. If you hear something horrible, over and over especially from a friend it would take a toll on your self-perception. Mobius was hurt by Loki leaving him, he’s getting revenge whilst doing his job and getting into Loki’s head.

Ravonna’s office

Ravonna has hang ups from failing with Sylvie. Who she is and what she knows is going to be interesting.

Heck I just realised are Mobius’ lapels not real? They look fake.

I wonder whether the “mastermind” thing was foreshadowing the next ep.

Am I the only one who thinks this isn’t the first Loki Mobius has dealt with? Could that mean there’s a reunion next ep?!

“Variant pet.” There’s a culture of dehumanising variants within the TVA.

The cuts showing both B-15 and Mobius’ faces reminds me of ep 1, but now there’s a new angle to things. B-15 certainly sees things differently.

Time Theatre 25

Lady Sif would kill with short hair. Or long hair. It’s Lady Sif, she’s a badass.

Loki’s exhale reminds me of how he tenses before a fight.

Notable things about this scene:

Heavy use of metaphors to trade jabs.

The lights are shifting in a consistent pattern, scanning the room almost.

Shots are constantly moving and cutting.

Loki’s speech pattern changes when he’s lying. Nice touch there.

When they start arguing in earnest, the shots are close ups of their faces, not circling around each other.

Loki was at first willing to talk to Mobius if he was treated with respect, the way they engaged in episode 2. He also wants to trust that Mobius won’t kill him. Mobius dismisses him (rightly so, his trust is gone) and Loki’s pride about ‘not working for anyone’ gets in the way rather than listening to each other. Loki’s behaviour is cyclic and his lying about Sylvie affirms Mobius’s understanding that Loki won’t (or maybe can’t) change. I wouldn’t be too surprised if Mobius is a Loki, the man’s uncannily good at reading him. He deduces that Loki and Sylvie have a bond and unsettles Loki to get answers out of him, because he knows that’s the only way he can force Loki to reveal his cards. He definitely wasn’t expecting Loki’s earlier admission to be the truth. What Mobius did was not right, but it sure was effective.

“No. Not partners.” I believe this. They had an understanding, but their goals differ. Maybe just give Sylvie her own show.

“Guess you don’t do partners.” MOBIUS WHY ARE YOU SO BUTT-HURT? Probably to make Loki feel bad ik, but it’s still funny to think Lightning McQueen is salty.

That memory really hurt Loki. He stuttered.

Loki fixates on Sylvie rather than his own freedom. This was the cue to Mobius to start interrogating.

Bruh, the feeling they were experiencing better be friendship.

This made me uncomfortable because I was so sure we weren’t gonna get a romantic subplot that I related the characters to my actual family relationships. Marvel. Why?

The music combined with Mobius’ subtle shift in demeanor from irritated to mockery was very unsettling to me. I never realised how good an actor Owen Wilson was.

“Our interests are aligned.” Once Mobius tells him the truth, Loki does the same. I really hope this is the extent of their relationship. Just let them recognise one another as equals. Please Marvel.

Mobius’ hands twitching, the slight swallow. Yeesh, he certainly doesn’t think Loki’s lying, but he’s not about to accept it.

Loki’s head shake is sad. He knows he can’t convince Mobius.

“That I can respect. I mean the lies you tell yourself.” This was the best writing imo. Loki doesn’t make any final attempts to connive his way out of the situation because telling the truth to someone he’d trusted had failed. He willingly walks into the Time Cell.

Time Theater 47

B-15 being unable to support herself, having to rely on the structures around her to stay upright. This woman deserves so much y’all.

WE NEED HER NAME MARVEL.

You better appreciate her beyond shipping her with Sylvie or istg.

The music is so mournful. It just emphasises how much everything changing is going to hurt not only the main characters. Lives change because of the TVA and the events of this episode, it’s not overlooked by the writing or music.

The poster and the 1984 parallels. Exquisite!

Sylvie not sitting straight made me snort.

Ravonna Renslayer’s office

More Theremin music! This time I’m pretty sure it’s Carnival of the Animals, XIII. Le Cygne (the Swan) : Le carnaval des animaux: No. 12, Le cygne (arr. For theremin and piano) by Clara Rockmore.

Fun fact! Clara Rockmore influenced theremin music and the instrument and was a virtuoso of the instrument. Give her a google, it’s worth it. Also look up Leon Theremin, he was (among other things) a Soviet spy. There’s a great Wiki spiral for anyone there.

Mobius was probably being lined up for a high position in the TVA. Damn.

TemPads are personal, or have different levels of clearance.

Mobius didn’t stop interrogating Ravonna throughout that scene. He knew that she wasn’t telling him the whole truth.

Sleight of hand wasn’t shown how Loki and Sylvie do it, they didn’t use misdirection.

Ravonna knows something is up with Mobius. Maybe he hasn’t been around for long if this is his ‘career case’.

The pacing becomes really fast like in the end of episode 2 as conflicts get resolved. Buckle up comrades.

2050 Roxxcart Disaster

I don’t have much to add, it’s a powerful scene.

They use close ups whenever a truth bombshell is dropped.

The music varies considerably between these scenes, each one has a different tone.

“We’re the same.” With what she knows of B-15, Sylvie knew not to be smug when delivering the news about B-15’s life.

B-15 crying in the rain hurts.

“I looked happy.”

TVA archives, Time Cell, Time Theater 25

The floor opposite Mobius is FE3, above it is 3FG.

Oh Mobius.

C-20 deserved better, I'd love to see her later in the series.

The music goes from mournful to harsh and we’re left in silence when it cuts to the Time Cell.

“You told me to shut up.” Loki can be salty sometimes.

“Do you really think you deserve to be alone?” Mobius is rattled, he wants to unsettle Loki.

The music starts to build somewhere between “...your connection... “ and Loki saying “‘WE?’”

The faint tinkling reminds me of the Avatar (blue people) score.

“How about the word of a friend?” This is Loki’s olive branch. When he admits Loki was right, their trust is tentatively reinstated.

The music is finally back to that chaotic theme we know. I think it’s the TVA’s theme.

“You can be whoever, whatever you wanna be, even someone good. I mean just in case anyone ever told you different.” Mobius corrects what he says in the first ep.

They are friends y’all I’m so sad.

Mobius can lie through his teeth like it’s nobody’s business.

Pruning hurts, Mobius’ face is in agony.

Loki’s tears. GIVE THEM ALL JETSKIS.

Ravonna takes a moment to compose herself.

Time Keepers (the final smackdown)

Why are the last 10 minutes always so insane?

Loki’s eyes only show hurt. I’ll leave.

Ravonna’s so sharp, she instantly catches Sylvie’s wet hair.

All of our expectations from the trailers always get yeeted out of a window because the scenes are never really what we think they are. I get that that should be expected but it’s refreshing that the writing is never what we think it is.

Did anyone else notice the egg timer/infinity sign murals on one of the hallways to the left of Sylvie?

Ravonna is so cold (and yet I’d simp for her).

The M.C. Escher staircases I see you set designers/CGI folks.

B-15 just gets knocked out. They better not kill her for no reason or I riot.

I’m pretty sure that Sylvie ripped off one of Ravonna’s TVA badges (or buttons) when she fought her.

Sylvie’s the better fighter, she’s had to use it more often though.

The elevator doors stay open.

It would be so funny if we get an elevator scene where Sylvie is just dragging Ravonna somewhere.

They really led us on with the Time Keepers, particularly the middle one. I was somewhat convinced there’d be something more to it. I’m interested to see where it goes.

Ep 4 review

I really don’t have much to add with these last two episodes. I’ve definitely come to appreciate that no matter whether you liked the writing of the show or not, it’s never what you expect. Is that a good thing? I guess that that remains to be seen. Nonetheless, I appreciate how much effort went into this series. It’s been a fun romp, I’ll be back with my reviews of the final episodes. I’ll also stop posting Loki content to my blog because the Gods know that my followers don’t read this lol.

I’m just going to survive until the season is over and then hopefully keep my sanity together until the next Marvel content or at least Dr. Strange.

Here's the link to my episode 3 review.

Thank you all for being here, you're wonderful my loves.

#loki #loki series #loki review #loki (2021) #loki spoilers #spoilers #man how is this fandom gonna cope? By fixating on other TV shows? Good luck lads. #I'm gonna go buy milk at this point #they better not mess with B-15 or istg #B-15 deserves none of this #give mobius a jetski #and give loki therapy #and Sylvie too pls my babies need rest. #boy if Mobius is a Loki variant I'm going to grab my popcorn because the circus that this fandom will turn into will be legendary

[nyeonisparks]

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST PT. 2

The grip on my throat was firm, breathing seemed out of the question. For once in my life, I was thankful for my uncanny strength. My hands instinctively clenched together, my body shifted on its own, I took a swing with enough intensity to at least get the man off of me. Blood gushed from my adversary. He covered his nose, his smirk never faltering. "You caught me off guard, normal people would instinctively grab their foes wrist, in hopes of them letting go."

"uck," I choked on my words, trying to breathe again. I staggered over to him, clearing my throat. He tilted his head to the side, glancing at me.

"Now, I'm gonna kick your smarmy little ass!" Stepping forward, I swung at him; however, he dogged my attack with incredible speed.

"And why do I need my ass kicked? You were the one who came into my home," He was right, I loathe violence, yet here I am, using it on someone who was just defending their own space. "Hehe, and you said I was the monster, but look at you, hurting an innocent man" no, he's wrong, I was defending myself, he was at my throat.

His eyes looked at me in a way no village had. There was no anger, no hate, no fear. For someone that had just gotten their nose punched in, he didn't seem too frightened of me. "Look, I'm sorry for intruding, I was just trying to escape the storm, and I'm also sorry for calling you a monster," I know how much it hurts to be called a monster too. He didn't say anything, it was almost like he had lost all interest in me. "Is your nose okay?" Even though I didn't start the fight, I felt guilty.

"I'm fine, you can leave now" His tone was bitter, he had turned his back on me,

"Sorry to be a bother but, I have no place to go," I had to swallow my pride and think rationally.

"That's not my problem," anger arose in me, but I held it back.

"Please, can you help me" He looked over his shoulder at me, his nose bleeding at the bridge, my knuckles had scraped off the skin. I felt judged by his eyes. He turned to face me again, walking closer, I was on guard this time, no way was I gonna fall for the same trick twice.

"Beg"

"Excuse me, I don't think I heard you right" I hope to god I didn't hear him right.

"Get on your knees, and beg," His voice was rigid, yet he wore a smile.

"No way in hell am I doing that!"

"Then leave, get eaten by wolves, starve to death for all I care," He shrugged his shoulders. I knew if worse came to worse, I could always go back to the village; however, I had abandoned my friends, I wouldn't be able to face them again, I would be too ashamed. I knelt down,

"Please... Please let me stay," I looked up for his approval. He seemed pleased.

"Good boy" It was faint, but I heard him loud and clear before I could protest, he spoke, "You can stay for the night."

"For tonight!" I shouted, "I have nowhere to go, what am I supposed to do tomorrow!?" He laughed

"Beg again," a low growl escaped me. Of course, the one place I stumbled upon had a sadist living in it with horns and goat feet, who is so kind as to let me stay one night, after begging. What is he, the devil's spawn? Or is he the devil himself?

"I'm Heiwajima Shizuo, I used to live in a village not far from here."

"What caused you to be thrown onto my doorstep?" the man asked.

I sighed,

"I have unnatural strength, when I was younger, I ran around destroying anything that pissed me off or using it to fight anyone who pissed me off" I inhaled deeply before I continued, letting my nerves cool down. "Then I met Tom-san, he was always so kind to me, he helped me pick up some tricks to calm me down, although he would get bullied by the other kids, so I beat them up. Now that we're older, it seems like all the villagers hate Tom just for being around me, I can't be a burden to him any longer." The man nodded along.

"So, you want to become my burden instead?"

"WHY ARE YOU SUCH AN ASSHOLE!!" He shrugged

"I'm Orihara Izaya," His Arm stretched out, claws emerging like daggers.

"Oh, uh, nice to meet you" Izaya cupped my hand with both of his,

"Will you join me for dinner, I want to hear more about this power of yours" He tilted his hand with a smile. I

Nodded,

Izaya pointed up the stairs, I turned towards the direction. "There is a room on the left, have Saki take you there, I have work to do."

"Work, what kind o-"when I turned to face him, he was already gone.

I trudged up the long staircase, Izaya had descended from. His candelabra sat on the thick corner of the railing. I grasped the light source in my hand

"Ahh, not so hard!" it screeched, startling me. I looked more closely at the candelabra; the design was a girl holding the candles. "Your grip is too tight," she said.

"Oh, sorry," I loosen my hand a bit, "Is that better?"

"Yes, thank you, I'm Saki, by the way," So this was what Saki Izaya had mentioned. I introduced myself and asked about a room Izaya had told me about. Saki was happy to guide me down the dark hallway. With Saki by my side, the darkness shewed away.

"Do you know why the mirrors are smashed?" I asked,

"I can't say for sure," she smiled, but her eyes clouded with sadness. "Izaya-san must be happy you're here."

"Tsk, I don't think so, he told me I can only stay for tonight," Saki giggled, but didn't say anything else. "Why do you think he's happy I'm here?"

"He's lonely," She said,

At the end of the hallway stood a large wooden door, elegant designs were carved so nicely into the wood. A silver handle was dusted over. I opened the door, stepping into the room. A bed layout in front of me. It looked so cozy, and I was so tired. Even though I wanted to give in to sleep, I couldn't. Izaya had invited me for dinner, I didn't give a verbal response, but I had nodded in agreement.

"Dinner won't be ready for a while," Saki informed me.

"What am I supposed to do until then?"

"Read something, that's what I see Izaya-san do all the time."

"I don't know how... to read," I felt embarrassed, my face flushed, and I set Saki down on a nightstand.

"That's okay, Izaya-san can teach you" The thought of that left a bad taste in my mouth. There just is something off with this guy. I don't like him. I laid down in the bed, letting my limbs seek into the plush. Saki watched me from the nightstand. What am I supposed to do? I feel so trapped. Some time had passed, Saki told me to get changed into something more presentable for dinner. I did as I was told, in the room stood a wardrobe. I quickly changed, discarding my old rags for soft silks—a white button-down, with a black and red vest, and complementary slacks. Saki escorted me to the Dinner room. But it was more like me accompanying her as she told me directions. I was guided into a well-lit room, with a full dining table filled with food. Izaya sat at the head of the table. I seated myself beside him, setting Saki down on the table, Izaya glanced at her, and she did her best nod, then descended from the table with the help of a chair. Now it was just Izaya and me alone.

I served myself a plate of food and started eating, I didn't notice how starved I was. Izaya watched me scarf down my meal, not even touching his.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asked

"I much rather watch you" Tremors ran down my spine, I shivered at these words. Why was this guy so weird? His claws tapped in a rhythm on the tabletop. I watched them intently, they looked trimmed and clean. "Do you like them?" His voice caught me off guard, and I quickly turned away.

"oh, uh, sorry, I didn't notice.." I trailed off, facing my attention towards him as he pulled on my hand,

"You can touch them if you want," he said. I took his hand into my own. Rubbing my thumb over his smooth nails. Their deep black color didn't stop at the nail, the darkness traveled till the bend of his fingers. As I kept looking, I noticed feathers prickled out at his wrist. His long sleeves encased the rest of his arm, but my curiosity made me long to see how far up his arm the feathers ran.

"They're pretty," I admitted. Izaya's beaming smile wasn't unusual, but what surprised me was when he rose from his chair and gripped the back of mine. "You know..." he lifted my chin up, enticing me with his somber eyes. "You're not so bad yourself," he purred, he was so close to me. My cheeks heated and I looked away,

"W-what are you doing" my voice was uneasy. Suddenly Tom's words came flooding back to me,

"until he became aware of his selfishness."

"Do you think I'm a fool.." my attention shifted to my lap, blonde lockes covering my heated face. I could feel him trying to tilt my head back towards him. Even though he’d lose this battle. He hummed "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, I get it now, why you let me stay, why you had me come to dinner, and why you're trying to kiss me… you think the curse will be lifted by a kiss? You really are selfish" The air went stiff. Pulling away he hissed out,

"How predictable," bearing a pained expression, eyes glaring into me, it was clear that my predictions were right, he only gave me the option of staying here so he could use me to break his curse. He couldn't defend his actions from the truth. "Why did you have to come here, did she bring you here out of spite?" I could hear the gritting out his teeth,

"What? Who are you talking about?"

"The fairy" I watched him dip his claws into his wine glass, his features faded back into his smug smirk. A swift motion of his hand that had been dipped into the wine sliced at my chest, I was quick to back up, my chair getting knocked over in the process; however it had already been too late, a wound started spewing blood from my chest. "Now, you will be staying here with me," I was frozen. "Did you think I came unprepared? Obviously, there was a chance you would figure out my plan, it wasn't a very elaborate one" He snickered, "So I had a backup, what was in my glass wasn't wine, it was poison, I had one of my servants make it for me. It’s a slow working poison, so it won’t become deadly for about a week or two."

"What the hell!" I shouted

"Don't worry, there's an antidote, but you’ll only get it if you help lift the curse. However, if you don't lift it in time, you will end up like the rest of the unfortunate,in a ditch, dead." He cackled out, "Isn't this fun?"

"I shouldn’t have left the village” The realization hitting me too late, I had let myself get poisoned.

This wasn’t my original idea, I was inspired by a post @shizaya-incorrectquotes reposted. I’m pretty sure the creator of this writing prompt was @whowhatmeow

#my art #my fic writing #my writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writeaway #anime art #drrr fanart #fanart #fanfic #anime #durarara #durarara shizuo #durarara izaya #drrr shizuo #drrr izaya #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #shizaya #izaya x shizuo #shizuo x izaya #yaoifanfic

[hypnosis-micrpohone-things]

Kuko and Dice with a budding mangaka S/O finding her sketchbook and finding out they've drawn them as a really handsome bishonen in a shoujo manga artstyle dramatically kissing her?

Ooh, very interesting! Let’s see what my brain does with this...

Kuko and Dice x Mangaka S/O

Kuko

Given his age and the time he spent with Ichiro, there is no doubt that he has at least some love of manga/anime. So when he found out his s/o was a mangaka he became interested right away!

He would love talking out storylines, finding out how the publishing process works, and all that. But he would especially love seeing their characters come to life as they draw.

I think his favorite thing would be to hang out around the temple, probably under some trees in a garden, and watch them draw/flip threw newly created panels.

And it’s here the problem lies...quite literally. His s/o accidentally left their personal sketchbook under a tree when they left.

Kuko, being the curious teenager that he his, opens it up as soon as he finds it. His s/o shows him their drawings all the time, right? What’s the harm?

He did not expect to see...how could he put it? A funhouse mirror version of himself. Except that mirror made him way more attractive.

Kuko would pause, staring at one particular picture that showed his “fangs”, as his love liked to call them. He would be expressionless for a minute. Then a shiteating grin would take over.

Oh, he is never going to let them live this down.

When his s/o comes back the next day and asks if they left their sketchbook, he hands it over without a word. At first. But he can’t hide that grin.

“Why are you smiling like that?” They would ask. “Just thinking...if you ever need me to model for one of your drawings, all you have to do is ask.” (Poses) Cue his s/o’s massive blush.

You better believe he’d bring it up around the other group members too. And you’d better believe he took pictures of his favorites so he can show them off at he most inappropriate times, just to embarrass them!

Dice

Dice is a little bit...indifferent to his s/o’s job.

Don’t get me wrong, he thinks the drawing is cool and everything, and he thinks they’re extremely talented, but...reading...is not really his thing.

It’s far more likely his group mates would be interested, after he mentions it to them one day. Gentaro is always happy to talk authorship, and Ramuda loves anyone who can sketch out some clothes (or put one of his designs into a book!).

His s/o probably went with him to a group practice one day, enjoying the music and little squabbles while they sketched in a corner of the room.

And that’s where they would leave their sketchbook after they get an urgent call from their publisher and have to leave early.

Dice wouldn’t even notice the sketchbook laying there after they leave. Gentaro would see it as they pack up and hand it off to Dice, knowing he was going to see them soon.

He’d be carrying it with him as he walked over to their place. Now, like I mentioned, he’s not particularly interested in their job. But he is catlike. And we all know what killed the cat...

So, out of pure curiosity he dpwould decide to flip through a few pages. Hey, that one’s cool! They’re so talented! Love the jacket that guy’s wearing! Ooh, what’s that thing he’s got in his hair!? Hair...and, are those two teeth a little...sharp...

He’d suddenly stop outside of a store window. Dice would look at the sketchbook, then at his reflection in the window, then back at the sketchbook, then back at the reflection...

[Five minutes later.]

“SH*T THAT’S ME!” He shouts at the top of his lungs. In the middle of the sidewalk. With countless people going by. RIP their eardrums.

Then he full on sprints to their hours, crashing through their door (or wall, cartoon style, if you prefer!), and hold the sketchbook open right in front of their face.

“YOU NEVER TOLD ME I LOOKED THIS HOT!” (Cue facepalm)

Don’t even bother trying to explain the art style, he won’t get it. He’s just so happy his s/o drew him so well! He’d definitely ask them to do more drawings of him. And yes, he would totally show them off to the rest of Fling Posse (who are quietly laughing behind his back about his enthusiasm, but they love it!).

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #hypmic kuko #hypmic dice #kuko harai #dice arisugawa #bad ass temple #fling posse

[stevenuniversetanzanite]

The Angel Among Us (Cordelia X reader) Part 2

(This chapter has been rewritten/ edited since original post)

General Notice: I’m trying to get more works out during this time that is rough for all of us. That being said I am trying to keep it’s quality up.

This is technically a prequel to Fallen Angel (Work in progress), however it can be read as a stand alone series.

Summary:

If your reading as a stand alone: A witch heads back to Miss Robichaux's 20 years after she left in hopes of being a teacher there. The only problem is she hasn’t aged a day.

If your from Fallen Angel: The event’s leading up to Y/N joining Michael and the Cooperative.

I’m trying something with this and I’m not sure how it’s going to work so any feedback will be appreciated whether through comments, or anon asks. I did something similar in my Gone and left your world series were it had ~~~ in it and it either jumped, went to a flashback or dream. I did that here and it’s for the past/dream. 

This was originally going to be three different small chapters but wanted to reduce the number of chapters and decided to explain stuff I couldn’t through the ‘present’ basically context and junk. 

as these parts are split up I can make a post where there all together and link it here if anyone wants. 

Also they are so many parallels from my other series and some weren’t intentional.

Warnings: Slight smut, nightmare, murder and all that good stuff. (Everything is tame)

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4(will be added when done)

She gave you the job without a second thought, thrilled to have her friend back in her life. This time around, it was different. The way she interacted with you, there was more behind every touch, every word she said. You had danced around your feelings for her from the second you fell for her. You didn't know you were gay; you had never liked anyone before and haven't since. Maybe you weren't. Maybe it was just her. She was the only thing your heart desired. No one else seemed appealing. She was straight, she got married to a man and a vile man at that. No one liked him in Cordelia's close circle, but you were all nice for her sake. However, her mother was always vocal about how he detested the man. She wasn't the hugest fan of you either, but you had something worth wide in her eyes, power.

You weren't one to force your feelings upon people, you didn't want to burden her with the knowledge that her long-time best friend was in love with her. Knowing how she was back then; she would blame herself for you falling for her. You didn't want that. Keeping it a secret was better.

She asked you about your time away, but you were reluctant to tell. It was a blur, nothing notable ever happened or at least that's what you told her. "I spent most of your time at your flat." And some ramblings on about jobs so she didn't grow concerned.

You were offered a job here a few years back by her mother about the time Cordelia was blinded. You jumped at the opportunity but as you went to take the job, the balance of the world shifted. Something dark was living on our earth and growing with power. You tasked yourself with discovering it before it discovered your fellow witches or any other good on the planet.

Something told you that the answer to some of your woes would be found with the source of power. The self-appointment job was a failure and you found yourself at the place you ditched it for.

It had been a couple of weeks since you got hired. You sat cross-legged in Cordelia's room on the love seat marking some of the girls' work. Papers scattered on the ground and the couch you had been sleeping on. Cordelia had yet to give you a bedroom.

"Are you sure you're comfortable on the love seat? Wouldn't you prefer sleeping on the bed?" She would say. Her desire for you to join her on the bed masked in such a way that your tired brain couldn't register as her quietly begging for you to join her. In your head, she was still married. She had mentioned multiple times that her and her ex broke up but a month or two doesn't rewrite years in your mind.

You had finished your marking an hour ago and had moved onto Zoe's to ease her workload. She managed to get behind, having double the classes you had that day as well as having to plan her work next week. You thought it was a nice thing to do. While, you were trying to distract your brain. Stopping working forced you to think and that hadn't gone well for you in the past. Countless nights spent in denial, regretting what could have been if only you had spoken up. Stayed away from the school. Ignored your mother's letter. Those thoughts were less common now. Instead, your mind flooded with thoughts of what was wrong with your body. Why your growth had remained preserved at the ripe age of 18- if that.

You threw another log on the fire before heading back to the marking. You focused on the flames using your pyrokinesis to refuel the fire. You smiled at a successful job done. Another hour passed and you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Strong hands gripped your shoulders.

"You're still up Y/N/N?" You looked over your shoulder to face Cordelia. "It's nearly 3."

You checked your watch. She was right, you didn't notice the time pass.

"I'm marking-"

"Zoe's work. I know, she informed me." Cordelia gathered some of the work on the seat moving it to the floor.

"Don't put them near the unmarked ones," you call out as she does so. She moved them instantly away from the unmarked ones. Taking the seat next to you, she removed the paper and pen from your hands and set it with the other papers. "Delia?"

She shushed you, pulling you closer to her. The two of you stared at the fireplace, the crackling of fire was the only sound in the room. The students were long asleep as the two of you should have been. She shuffled even closer to you. She eased your head into her shoulder, her hand finding it's place in on your head, playing with your locks.

"I appreciate that you offered to help Zoe with her work, but you do need a break too-"

"I get breaks-"

"That don't involve studying magic?" Okay maybe not. She knew you too well. Magic was your life, what else do you need? "You barely get any proper sleep. You sleep on this uncomfortable chair which is too small for you to sleep on."

"It's fine-"

"No, it's not. You're sleeping on my bed tonight. No question."

"Where will you sleep?"

"On my bed."

"But-"

"It's big enough for the two of us and it's not the first time we've shared a bed." You blushed thinking back on the few times you've shared a bed with her. Cordelia chuckled at your reaction. "You're too cute." You got redder. You begged her to stop but she kept going. She eventually ended it when you got too loud but not before she attacked you with tickles. You both were dying of laughter, you were surprised no one came to see what was going on. "Okay, bedtime." She patted your leg before rising from her spot. She laid a handout for you to take it. You yawned. "Come on captain sleepy."

"That was stupid."

"Shut up."

You yawned again, "A goodnight's sleep does sound nice and your bed is really soft."

Cordelia led you into her wardrobe, forcing you to rest on an ottoman while she retrieved pyjamas for you. She came back to you half asleep propped up against the wall. She chuckled not wanting to wake you up. She ended up shaking you awake lightly, handing you the a long sleeve shirt and pants. Without complaint, you changed into the clothes as she got herself ready for bed.

Once tucked comfortably into her bed, you wiggled about to get comfortable. She hopped in beside you, pulling you closer to her before she covered herself in her sheets. You stilled and cleared your mind for a peaceful slumber. As the night progressed you found yourself growing closer to the warm body beside you.

~~~

"Catch her! Stop Y/N!" People shouted as you ran through people's heaven's gate crashing and accidentally destroying them in the process. You jumped from room to room, hiding amongst people's belongings to lose the guards chasing you.

The group zoomed past. You sighed before stepping out of your hideaway. The air was musky, you got the sense you weren't home anymore. Your powers were unhinged, unable to control them was becoming more dangerous than ever. Accidentally transmuting into an unknown location was never good.

You've stepped into the devil's den.

You wandered, getting your bearings. It was all too new to you, how where you expected to follow along?

You stumbled into him, the man you were designed after.

~~~

You screamed, bolting upright in the bed. Your legs bend and move closer to your chest. The think sheets flopped off the top part of your body, pooling at your lap. Your upper torso and head drenched in a layer of sweat. Your hands flew to her head, covering your eyes from the monstrosity you saw in your dream.

The light on the bedside table closest to Cordelia switched on.

It wasn't the first time Cordelia had woken from someone having night terrors. In a school with a wide range of ages, it was more common than you'd think. The younger girls had them the most, as you would expect. Their minds were more active but even the older ones had them from time to time. Some of the girls were unfortunately exposed to trauma while growing up, being unaccepted for who they were as a witch. What she didn't expect was for the reaction to be so jarring. The sudden snap from unconsciousness to conscious was difficult for her body to handle. She needed a second to wrap her brain around the situation which was something she didn't want to do.

"Y/N, look at me."

You shook your head, beginning to rock back and forth. You mumbled out incoherently, describing the beast you saw. It was horrifying.

She asked if she could touch you when you didn't respond she slowly reached out until she made contact. You didn't flinch away (which she took as a good sign) nor did you move towards her touch. Ever so gently, she eased your hands away from your face, revealing your blotchy face and irritated eyes.

Your eyes flickered open, taking in the room around you. The face was gone. Feeling the weight of a hand on your shoulder, you turned Cordelia.

The door opened revealing three girls checking in on their headmistress and her roommate. They heard screams and wanted to make sure nothing bad happened.

"What happened?", "Is everything alright?" the girls asked.

"Nightmare. Can one of you head to the bathroom and run a hot bath?" Mallory sneaked past to fulfil the request. Delicately, Cordelia moved you closer to her. If there was any sign of apprehension, she would stop and resume once you were comfortable. "Shh, everything's okay. You are safe. Nothing's going to hurt you."

You sobbed, occasionally choking while trying to get a breath in.

"I-I s-saw evil," you stuttered out. "H-he greet-ed 'e w-ith o-open-"

What scared you the most was how you felt when gazing at evil itself. There was a void in your soul and bearing witness to the being began the healing process. The wound like while was tender but the pain that came along with it was gone.

"Shh. Take a moment to catch your breath."

"I-I was in hell-"

"It must have been terrifying but your back now, with us," Cordelia said. You knew wasn't trying to be condescending but you felt like she was.

Mallory notified Cordelia when the bath was finished. The supreme thanked the girl. You had calmed down significantly since then. Zoe and the other girl, information anyone who was awoken by your screams that you were okay, and it was safe to go back to bed.

The bathwater was warm against your skin, relieving you of the dirty feeling you can only get from being drenched in sweat. Cordelia remained by your side as you begged her to be though she was reluctant to leave herself.

The times were few and far between when you would freak out as you did tonight. At least in Cordelia's eyes, she rarely had you complain about any major problems or come to her for some level of consolement.

"It felt so... real."

"Dreams usually do."

"I guess I can't get a good sleep even on a good bed."

"So, you liked the bed?"

"I said I liked it before."

"Yeah, you did, didn't you? Would you consider moving to it permanently?"

"You want me to share a bed with you?" Cordelia nodded. You chuckled. "I don't know how you expect me to keep my hands off you- I mean-" Cordelia looked up at you grinning. "Wait, have you purposely not given me a room?"

"You know as well as I do, there are beds to spare."

"You're evil. You forced me to sleep on that couch."

"You chose to sleep there, darling."

"'Darling', what are an old married couple now?"

"Weren't we always?"

"What the fuck Cordelia?"

~~~

You, the 2.0, crafted in his likeness with the removal of his ill-intent. You knew what you were, they didn't bother hiding that. You knew him to be pure evil, corrupter of God's plan.

Free will, something you weren't allowed to have. We were all meant to be subservient to the Lord. He, the morning star, was the first to be cast out of heaven. He was defiant, not agreeing with god. All he would've had to do was simply said "I sinned, I submit, please forgive me", and the matter would've been resolved. But he was too arrogant, feeling too proud to bow down. He used his own logic and blamed God for misguiding him. Why would God give them knowledge if they weren't meant to use it?

~~~

Cordelia had been going on a lot of emergency meetings through your time at the school. Some appeared to be beneficial, like the time she first went and returned with two girls (Queenie and Madison) whom you were informed later on had died under her care. Unbeknown to you, you were replacing one of their jobs.

You heard about the boy's school from the woman who attended but remained in the dark about the specifics, being told it was council business and to "not worry you pretty little head," by Cordelia. You reckoned you had a right to know if it concerned the students or Cordelia's (as your unofficial girlfriend) wellbeing in any way but she denied that it did. You stupidly accepted her answer convinced that she would tell you when something goes awry.

You got on incredibly well with Queenie. You had some of the same favourite tv shows and she had many interesting stories to tell about her time trapped as a ghost in the Hotel Cortez. You happened to be a supernatural nut which explained your love for everything magical. You may have bombarded her with way too many questions about what it was like to be a ghost, people had to pull you away in order for you to leave her alone. She filled you in on her side of attending the school, adding in all the juicy gossip that Zoe and Cordelia left out.

Madison was hesitant to interact with you. You were the young hip teacher that happened to join after she died. You mean she didn't have to be stuck with Cordelia holding them back the whole time? You hadn't interacted with her until the fifth night after your initial introduction. She was in the kitchen raiding the liquor cabinet.

"I wouldn't drink that one if I were you. Cordelia will have your head if you open that one."

"Like I care," she said breaking open the bottle of expensive white wine.

"At least pour me a glass if you aren't going to listen to my warning."

She groaned, pulling out two wine glasses and pouring you both a lot. The two of you talked about everything and nothing. You'd finished the bottle by the time you'd retire for the night. You made sure she made it to bed safely before retiring for the night. You were all giddy by the time you stumbled into Cordelia's room. The woman was bundled up under the blankets with a book in her hand. She took one look at you and shook her head, "Madison?"

"Madison," you confirmed, flopping onto the bed giving Cordelia little time for her to move her legs out of the way. "She drank your wine."

"All of it?"

"I had some too."

"I noticed."

"Told her I'd pay you back for it." You scrambled up, crawling on top of her. "I never told her how," you purred, leaning down and taking Cordelia's lips for yourself. Your tongue tasted of the wine. You took no time building into the passion of the kiss. She moaned, re-adjusting how she rested beneath you. You pulled away, murmuring "Would you like that?"

"Yes," she moaned.

You made your way down her body, removing any fabric that got in your path. You paused, seeing the wound on her abdomen. The skin surrounding it was irritated and bruised. What you assumed was a scab concaved into her. Cordelia whined asking why you had stopped. In need for more she forgot about the mark of her fading on her body. She'd hidden it well from you this far, always having that area dressed.

You shook off all the questions you wanted to ask her, instead giving her what she is owed. No reason to ruin the night for the sake of feeding your curiosity. You took your time liking and sucking the right places to turn her into a bumbling mess beneath you. She cried out for more attention. She recalled hearing the click of the door locking but knowing it wasn't her to do it. She wondered if you were going to soundproof the room too.

"Scream for me baby. Scream so the whole coven can hear."

In the little time the two of you had been a thing, you'd kept any PDA behind the close door of your shared bedroom. Anything fun you had, the noise was kept to a minimum or the room was soundproofed in advance. All those times, Cordelia had been in charge. She didn't want to ruin her reputation and didn't want any of the girls to know what she does in her spare time. You, in your tipsy state, was overcome with a newfound level of confidence. It was as though you were someone else feeding off your need to please the woman you'd been in love with for years.

The next morning you were down bright and earlier. Your chipper self poured a cup of coffee before making your way to where Zoe, Queenie and Madison were. They all turn their attention to you the moment you walk in. "I paid her back," you said, directed to Madison as you took her seat at the table. Madison looked slightly horrified (and maybe even impressed?) at you.

"How long do you think it will take her to come downstairs?"

"She's already late."

"I wouldn't expect her to be down any time soon, I wore her out last night."

"Too much detail," Zoe said. The other two laughed.

Fifteen minutes before the students were expected to be getting up, Cordelia rushed into the room. She tried to play it off as calm and collective but she was stressing about being behind schedule.

"Sorry about being late, I slept through my alarm."

"Didn't you get much sleep last night?" Queenie asked, her and Madison were trying to suppress their laugh.

Cordelia deadpanned to you, "You told them, didn't you?"

"Didn't have too, we heard it all," Madison said.

"Oh God, the students. Y/N, what were you thinking?"

"Delia, they're all old enough to know about sex."

"It doesn't mean they should be forced to hear that." You got up and headed to the kitchen before she could scold you any further. "Where are you going?"

"To get dressed, students will be up soon."

~~~

You resonated with his actions and logic, maybe because you were him in some way. That's the problem with the likeness, the blurred line between who you are and who you are seen to be. If he betrayed then so would you?

Human's fascinated you, the ability to come back from sin and earn there place in the holy kingdom. It wasn't forced but advised. Sin still existed and you could choose to break the 10 commandments. Choice. You wanted to choose your life not be bound to a memory of someone else and forced through the wrongdoings as if it were prophesied.

He wasn't like you expected, rude or demeaning. He was cunning, motivated by ill-intent, but who's to judge if it's morally good or bad? Those concepts confused you, bad could be good in another's eyes.

The man knew who you were exactly, rumours of your creation spread fast in the spirit world. "Sister. I didn't expect to meet you so soon. I would have prepared for your arrival." He offered his land to you, to help rule his throne. He had bigger plans for the end times than he let on. He fed into your desire, the same confusion he had experienced at the beginning of his rebellion.

He offered you whatever you could have wanted in order to steal you from the grips of your creator. "I want to understand the purpose of all of this. Why are humans so important? Why are expected to follow subserviently?." A life of my own.

"Then go, seek out your own answers and when you get bored or don't like the answers that you find, there's a place for you here."

"How do I get there? I don't have control-" You'd gotten there by mistake, you couldn't your powers yet. The angels expected you to which is how the ruckus in heaven began.

Think of suddenly being were you want to go and step forward. You'll be incognito unless you want to be seen. No angel has had long term exposure to humans, who knows the damages it could cause.

~~~

It was the first time Myrtle Snow had gotten some time alone with Cordelia after their arrival back from their council trip. She wasn't happy about Cordelia's decision to allow a male student at Hawthorne to compete in The Seven Wonders. Cordelia informed her that she'd seen the future and it appeared grim. At some point she knew she would have to identify her successor but she needed to buy herself some time to figure out who.

Myrtle mentioned Mallory, and how she witnessed the girl completely reversed the wounds of a dead doe and brought it back to its youth. They couldn't deny Langdon's power and though she doubted he was the next in line, he could be what brings the end.

Cordelia admitted her powers are growing weaker and feeling herself dying. She told her Aunt that she hadn't told anyone about her dwindling power except her.

"It's sooner or later Y/N is going to figure it out," Cordelia said. She feared telling you, you already noticed the markings her sickness brought along. You knew too much about magic, sooner or later you'd question her and her state. One of the perks of being the supreme was perfect health. Those mysterious marks don't match that. "I've tried to keep her out of all of this- I don't want her to get hurt." She knew you were more than capable of looking after yourself, but she still felt obligated to protect you from the world.

Myrtle brought up how painful it was to watch you swooning over her for years and it was nice to see that you get a break. The underlying threat that it will be cut short hung in the air but remained unsaid. Cordelia never having mentioned you two being together assumed she'd heard from one of the others.

Mallory interrupted them and told Cordelia that her two o'clock is here to see her.

You hadn't seen Cordelia much that day, having back to back classes, a doctor's appointment then marking once you got back. You'd worked through dinner, not realising what time it was until it was eight and your stomachs rumbling snapped you out of your concentrating state. You had one paper left on witch history. As much as you loved the history of Salem witches, you knew none of these girls cared enough to write a paper on it. There all here to improve their magic ability, history isn't going to help with that. You tossed the paper onto the rest deciding dinner was in order. Marking can be left until tomorrow.

You found a tupperware container full of left overs in the fridge. You scooped a helping of the pasta onto a plate before shoving it in the microwave. You felt two hands wrap around your waist. You chuckled and relaxed slightly.

"Missed you today baby," Cordelia said snuggling into your back. You told her you missed her back. You yawned. "Were you asleep?" she said referring to the robe you changed into when you got home from the doctors as well as your yawn.

"Had a doctor's appointment and had to mark after so I decided to get comfortable."

"Doctor's appointment? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it was a checkup. I needed to see if my medication was working. They're giving me a higher dosage."

"I don't remember you being on medication."

"I've been on them for years. Some problem with my blood. I can't remember the specifics on the top of my head." You changed the topic, the last making you uncomfortable. "You're being more cuddly than you usually are in public. What happened to keep it in the bedroom."

"That went out the window when they heard us having sex."

"You have to admit you enjoyed it."

"I did," Cordelia admitted. "You could say, I owe you."

"Not tonight. I'm worn out. I'm going to go to bed after dinner."

"I might have to finish off my work early so I can have a cuddle session before bed."

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'll see you soon."

"See you soon."

Cordelia ran off to complete any work she had remained so she could spent her night with you.

You finished your meal and headed up your bedroom. You yawned as you entered the room. The ground felt muddy. Your eyes snapped open. You stood frozen in a forest of trees. A lone gas station stood with a mile of road on either side. "What the fuck-" you rubbed your eyes. This couldn't be real. A man stood there pumping gas into his car, nothing out of the ordinary. You reached for your pocket. You had none. You're in a robe. Outside. With nothing underneath. This hasn't happened before and hopefully never again.

You shouldn't be here, how did you get here? No level of teleportation would have gotten you this far without harm, this place wasn't near the school.

You step forwards to make your way towards the gas station. Maybe he could help you, tell you where you were so you could call Cordelia and explain what happened. A glove hand slipped over your mouth, another around your waist. You were tugged towards a body. You thrashed about trying to escape when the person spoke.

"I'm not going to hurt you Y/N." You said something but it was muffled by the hand. "I'll let you go in a second but you need to see something first."

Another car pulled up and a woman stepped out. The two interacted before the woman ended up cutting his Achille's heel. He collapsed onto the ground and she slit his throat as well. To finish him off she poured gasoline on him and set him on fire. The woman pulled away in her own car. You watched as the man's flesh, burnt to dust. You screamed, cried out watching the scene unfold. You were helpless to do anything but watch on in horror.

"That man's name was John Henry Moore. He taught at the Warlock school, you know the one. He was going to rat out his brother warlocks for treason. His key's are unharmed by the fire. You have one of two choices, drive back to the school and tell your precious supreme that a warlock was murdered and have to explain why you were out here in the middle of the night or you could drive away, dump the car and not tell a soul." Both hands let go of you.

"Why did you make me watch that? Who are you?"

You spun around but no one was there. You decided to test what the person said was true. You crouch by the pile of ash. John Henry Moore, you never heard of him. That wasn't surprising, he taught at a warlock school. You weren't familiar with too many, you were always taught you were superior to them so you never bothered to look into them. You hovered your hand above the ashes, concentrating on who they used to belong to. Come on Y/N, you can do it, you repeated in your head. You took a deep breath in and out.

Information filled your mind along with snippets of the man's face. The person was right.

You snatched the keys from the pile of ash and hopped into the car. What were you doing? You can't steal a dead man's car. He isn't going to need it, you reasoned. You start up the car, listening to it rev. The camera's, they would have seen you hop into the car. With a flick of the wrist you erase any record of you being here before speeding away. You didn't know what to do. How were you meant to explain why you were in the middle of nowhere. You didn't even know where you were going.

"Where did you go so late?" Cordelia asked as you stumbled through the front door.

"Grocery store."

"In your robe?"

"Yeah."

"How did you get there? The van's still parked-"

"You ask too many questions," you snapped. She was taken aback. "I've been through hell today. Can we just leave it there?" You didn't give her a second to respond before you headed towards the back of the school. She followed you, stopping when you did. Your back faced her.

You'd changed energies since you entered the academy. You were no longer the sweet and tired woman she was planning on spending her night with. Now you were agitated. You rarely found a reason to snap at her, she worried something happened to you. She let your behaviour slide, not wanting to push you any further and cause a scene at one thirty in the morning.

"We have a new student, Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt. I put her in your class and organised a one on one with you and her today to get her comfortable being here."

You hummed fiddling with a pack of cigarettes you picked up along the way. You never smoked before in your life but the urge was all too tempting tonight. "Hmm~" you hummed, your mouth around the stick of death that was between your lips. Your hands fumbled about for the lighter you bought. Seemingly misplacing it, you groaned.

"I'm glad you're safe," Cordelia mused. "When you disappeared after you said you were going to bed, I worried." When you wouldn't pay her any attention, more focused on what you were doing she circled you. "What are you- Where did you get those?" She tried to take the cigarettes away from you but you moved away. "You don't smoke- how? Why?"

"I'm sleeping on the couch tonight," you said around your unlit cigarette, stepping outside and shutting the door with your powers.

You sat there until the sun rose. The birds chirping sounded like ringing in your ears. Visions of the man burning was all you could see. The hand around your waist and mouth, holding you in place. The helplessness you felt. What kind of witch were you? You had the chance to tell Cordelia where you were, what you say and you decided against it? Who were you? Not yourself.

Your robe slipped off your shoulders revealing your back to the cold day and showcasing your white ink tattoo of angel wings. You got paid 50 bucks to do it back in the day, now it's just scarring of the tattoo you once got.

You were on your third cigarette. You took another puff, missing the sound of the back door opening under the screams in your mind. A tap on your shoulder sent you zapping elsewhere. Landing on the other side of the garden, you quickly adjusted your robe, covering up your back and naked front. Your robe must have untied itself during the night. You dropped your cigarette butt stumping it out with your bare foot.

"Mal? What are you doing up so late?"

"It's 9 in the morning," she notified you. "Cordelia told me to talk to you after you didn't head up this morning."

"I told her I was going to sleep on the couch," she probably assumed the one in her room. Mallory walked up to you sitting down beside where you teleported to. "We don't need a mediator-"

"Go and talk to her. Assure her that there is nothing to worry about. She spent the couple hours you were missing tearing the place to shreds." You chuckled at the last bit. "She also wanted me to remind you, you had that class with Coco."

"Who?"

"The new student."

"Crap, yeah. When's that start?"

"Three minutes ago."

"Shit- you distract the girl, I'll quickly freshen up."

She nodded. You grabbed your belongings before teleporting upstairs to clean yourself up. You scrambled through your belongings looking for something quick to change into. You opted for a long maxi floral dress with your platform boots. You douse yourself in perfume before sprinting downstairs. You ran past Cordelia on her way to her office, she went to speak when you said, "Meeting late." and continued on your way.

You found Mallory sitting alongside another girl. You apologised for your tardiness, and greeted the girl with a handshake.

"Your hands are cold," she commented.

"I'm well aware. So as you're aware I'm meant to so you the ropes. If you are scared, it's normal."

You dreaded the time your class your one on one would end but when it did, you were happy that the new student was at least a little more comfortable being here. She reminded you of yourself when younger. No you weren't rich, you were scared of being in a place you didn't belong and not wanting to waste the teachers time. Any witch no matter how little their powers are deserved to be here.

Once you were done you were requested to go to your girlfriends office. You didn't bother knocking as she expected you. The door squeaked, "Your door needs some oil," you commented.

"I'll make sure someone does that later-"

"Oh, I can do it. It's no problem. I'll do it now-" You deflected.

"Leave the door. It's not important." Cordelia rose from her desk chair and moved to the set of chairs in front of her desk.She chose to do this to show you were not in trouble and to remove the desk from between the both of you. You'd both use it as a barrier to hide behind. She gestured you to take the other chair. You slowly shuffled to your designated spot, your platforms scraping across the floor. Normally you would have earned a look of disapprove from your girlfriend for ruining the school's flooring. Today was different, her pet peeves were tossed out the window, replaced with an emotion you had yet to determined.

She didn't speak until you were settled in your chair. Your eyes floated everywhere never focusing on one place and definitely not on her. She realised she wasn't going to get your undivided attention, it was for the best, you never made eye contact when you were in a stressful situation. The woman allowed you to get away with pushing her away far too long. She'd let you escape from her for years during her marriage or the nights back in high school were she'd gotten a smidgen to close. She saw why now, it was as clear as day. You'd pushed her away to save yourself heartbreak. It took her until she had the sight to figure out she was being cheated on and still she couldn't figure out how strong your feelings where for her. You were pushing her away again but this time she couldn't understand why, it wasn't like the last time you did so, you haven't left her yet. It was similar to moments in high school were she was getting a little experimental, bi-curious even, but you weren't having it. You didn't want to be second, you wanted the gold. Had you figured out her secret, that her days were numbered. You'd seen the markings. You could be bracing yourself for the pain, cutting off the ties before they were snapped from you. Self induced pain was easier to deal with.

"How did the session with Coco go?" It was best to ease into the conversation, make it seem normal, Cordelia thought. You both knew it was coming so there was no point in delaying the inevitable but scaring you off wasn't the end goal.

"The Vanderbilt girl is super nice. Is Vanderbilt or Pierre a better nickname? Pierre is a masculine name and she isn't very- Vanderbilt it is." You rambled on. "I think I did a pretty good job at convincing her she belongs here."

"I knew you'd be the perfect one for that."

"Yeah~"

"I want to talk about last night-" you went to interrupt but you were silenced. "I know you don't want to talk about it but that's what couples do, they communicate so we can move past it."

You nodded, your focus now stilled on the left leg of Cordelia's chair. There was a paper clip resting next to it, bent slightly out of shape. You wanted to pick it up and put it with the rest or at least fiddle with it to distract your mind from what she was asking you to do. Talking was a chore, why would you need to talk, can't she just read your mind, or the energy you're radiating? Her idea wasn't a good one. Emotions are meant to be expressed outwardly and if not, they should remain to one's self.

"You said you were going to bed. You could have given me a heads up or texted me that you had to go out."

"I did head to bed." Your voice was small. Your hands fiddle with the light fabric of your attire. "I didn't plan on going out... It kind of happened."

"You going somewhere doesn't usually just happen. You have to actively seek out doing it."

"I-I teleported- I think. Whatever happened wasn't intentional."

"You teleported? Where?"

"I don't-" Should you tell the truth? "A park, an hour away. I went to the grocery store on the way back and picked up-"

"The cigarettes. You know what I'm going to ask you to do with them." You shook your head. She laid her hand out. You pulled them out of your clothes pocket and handed them over. "I don't want you to get addicted to these. They ruin lives and I love you too much to watch you waste it away on this." You nodded in recognition. "Did anything happen while you were out?"

You shook your head, "Nothing happened-"

"You transmutated far, are you sure you didn't get hurt?" You nodded. "Can I have a look over?"

"You just want an excuse to see me naked, don't you?"

"Always, but it is strange that you are developing new powers now or at least of that strength."

"Developing them now? Are you calling me old?" you joked.

"You're older than me." Yeah, you were. "What are you, like 905?"

"Hey! I'm not immortal."

"You could have convinced me otherwise."

"We both know that wouldn't be a good thing. We both know the story of Scáthach. "

"Are you talking about My Roanoke Nightmare? I thought you hated that show."

As much as Cordelia hated horror, you were a fanatic- not because you enjoyed the film, you loved critiquing it, ripping their use of the supernatural. You often referenced horror movies and how they were wrong in class or when casually talking to Cordelia. Then the show My Roanoke nightmare was popular, you'd binged watch it and won't shut up about the show for weeks. Cordelia knew everything about the show without seeing it. She eventually did, so she could better understand what was irritating you so much.

"I do, but Audrey Tindall is hot."

"I hope neither of us ever met her." The both of you chuckled.

"No, but seriously. She's real or at least what they say about her is. She gained immortality from ancient gods. We both know you don't make deals with ancient gods, we teach that as part of the curriculum. You don't accept gifts from deities and all that jazz. It's witchcraft 101. All I know is if I had a choice between being normal and being immortal, i'd choose normally any day. Hell I'd probably give it up. Imagine living a life where you couldn't get attached to people because you know that one day they are going to die and you'll be alone. You can met new people but you know that they are going to die too. It's a long circle of death until the world explodes or hell raises over maybe even after that. It would get lonely. Plus, I'd lose you and I couldn't handle that."

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." At least not for now, not today, Cordelia thought.

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