#I’m assuming there’s a prophecy or something and that’s why they believe he can stop bowser

[alfairy]

I love the classic art style cut out of bowser here, it’s a cute little detail

Also, they’re trying to train Mario to fight Bowser, but he has literally no experience. What is he gonna do??? He’s gonna get his ass kicked in their first fight 💀💀💀

[nellyofthevalley]

truths, ch.1

astarion x fem!tav rating: explicit

content: piv sex, fingering, biting/blood drinking, emotionally repressed losers who can't communicate, angst I guess

summary: this fic is mostly an excuse to write a bunch of dialogue bouncing around in my head. astarion is a sad little idiot who turns his fears into a self-fulfilling prophecy because he never learned how to love. it may or may not turn into a tragedy

“As I told you—you broke my cold, dead heart. Of course it was cruel,” Astarion says, melodramatic, hamming it up for her. He wants her to feel guilty for it; he wants her to stop being so tiring and play right into his hand. Make it easy for him.“I don’t believe you,” Tav says. “Everything you say sounds like a pretty lie, and you all but told me that’s what it is. Pretty lies. I’m not interested.”

chapters: ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5 | ch.6 | ch.7 | ch.8

read it on ao3 or below the cut

Camping in the Underdark is unsettling, to say the least. The party hears noises in the distance, reminiscent of the howl of wolves or the songs of birds on the surface, but here, the sounds are warped and unrecognizable, and when they travel, they never meet the creatures that match the sound. Their party travels lighter with fewer bodies, having stricter lookout shifts with more on nighttime patrol. Tonight is Lae’zel and Shadowheart on shift, and Tav can imagine that’s going well. After all, it was only a few days ago they’d been at each others throats. 

At least they are speaking to one another—Astarion hasn’t talked to her for days. Not since she turned him down at the tieflings’ celebration at camp, back by the grove. It would be fine, if it weren’t for the fact that it’s so obvious and awkward; he is clearly avoiding her, and she doesn’t know how to handle it. Avoid him? Act normal? What is normal anymore, anyway? 

She hadn’t meant to let him down so callously; how smug and fake he sounded finally got on her nerves. She didn’t expect him to seem so wounded by it. He was so good at putting on a fake face and fake words, so why was he surprised that she’d rejected him? What did he expect?

‘I’ve gotten on my back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them,’ he’d said after. ‘But you... you I’ll remember.’

The words linger in her mind like a parasite, fighting for space with her tadpole. It bothers her that she can’t let this go. Were they just more pretty words he spouted to get her in bed again, or something else? For a moment, it almost seemed like his facade had cracked when he said it. For all she knows, that could've been a performance as well. 

This evening, Tav finds herself in Halsin’s company while she works at her braids, discussing the road ahead. It won’t be long before they’re met with the shadow-cursed lands, and out of them all, Halsin knows the most. He recounts his studies on the curse and tadpole, eager to head off to their next destination despite the danger. Halsin clearly feels a certain responsibility to the cursed lands, though he’s also struggling with leaving the grove behind. 

“They’ll be fine without you—they’re tough,” Tav offers, doing her best to provide some kind of comfort. “You’ll be missed, I’m sure. I’m glad you’re with us, we’re lucky to have you.”

“I remain optimistic that Francesca will strive in my old position. Still, it is difficult to leave my home behind,” he says. “I’m afraid the city will be an even harder adjustment for me. The busy streets and crowds are a far cry from the comforts of nature.”

“There, there, Halsin,” Gale chimes in, joining the group by the campfire. “You might be pleasantly surprised. I admit, the city park has nothing on your lovely grove, but, well. You share the pursuit of knowledge, I assume? Baldur’s Gate is home to many wonderful things—the best of which being an extraordinary bookstore known as Sorcerous Sundries.”

Gale likes to hear Gale talk, so Tav backs off and lets him engage with Halsin in her stead. Her attention turns toward the campfire on this particularly cold night, stretching her arms and hands out in front of her, taking in the warmth it provides. Her own tent is dull and cold, so she can find sleep only once the boys have talked all they can talk and finally leave, allowing her the silence needed to rest.

Tav glances over at Astarion’s tent, and unsurprisingly, he’s nowhere to be found. Likely off hunting, she thinks. Ever since the party and their strange little silent treatment pact started, he’s been getting his fill elsewhere. She used to provide for him—to help him be ‘stronger, fight better,’ as he’d argued. Now, things were too tense to invite him back. 

She finds herself wondering if he’s chasing animals or people. It’s none of her business who he feeds from, but she can’t deny the slight twinge of jealousy eating at her, at the thought of him having his needs met from another ‘thinking’ creature. 

‘Truth be told, you were my first,’ he’d said. Tav felt shame as her cheeks flushed. His first. Something about that sounded so… personal.

Her attention snaps back to the present, settling into the bed roll by the fire, watching the flames frolic. As her eyes start to drift away, the need for sleep washing over her, the sounds of the wilderness become duller, drowned out. She didn’t realize how tired she was, how exhausting this day had been. Her muscles relax, sight fades, and thoughts morph into concepts as she drifts away to the warm comfort of sleep. 

Tav wakes in a sweat. Her skin feels like it’s melting, like she’s being boiled alive; her hands rush to her face, and when she touches herself, the skin oozes off her bones, flowing down her fingers and arms. She tries to scream, and nothing comes out, her mouth a gooey mess dripping onto the ground beneath her.

She tries to stand and flee, but her ankles are already turning into liquid fire. Her body lowers, slowly liquifying into the ground below. She’s helpless, a lost cause; an existence destined to fade away and be lost forever. A voice—her voice—tells her so, tells her ‘give up’.

Tav wakes again, this time with an audible scream. She instinctively jumps out of bed, rising to her knees; hands rush to touch her face again, relief and surprise coursing through her body as she realizes she’s still there. All of her, in one piece; not melting away as her dreams try to convince her. 

She sits upright and tears flow from her eyes, frustrated—these dreams keep happening to her, and she doesn’t understand it. The campfire is all except gone, hardly any flame or heat remains. 

“Tav!” Shadowheart calls to her, running and kneeling beside her. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine, I think,” she gets out, looking over her fingers and feet again, as if she has to remind herself they’re still there, still real. “Just… having nightmares.”

“Chk. If a dream bothers you that much, I question your sanity,” Lae’zel comments in her typical, apathetic tone, approaching the duo. “Soon you may develop a fever, grow tentacles, become ghaik at last—the moment you do, I’ll be ready to strike.”

Tav rolls her eyes, prodding at the campfire, hoping to reignite the tiny flame. Despite her dream, the air is cold, and her bedroll isn’t enough. Shadowheart and Lae’zel head off in separate directions to resume their patrol, and Tav catches Shadowheart glancing back at her on their way out. She seems genuinely concerned for Tav, and it’s nice to know someone does. The others are either sleeping peacefully in their tents or pretending to. Tav wishes it’s the former, hating to make a scene. 

The campfire crackles again, a little flame rising from the wood. It’s a much needed comfort, though not enough to relax and find sleep again. Tav lays on her bedroll, looking up at nothing besides a dark abyss and the faint glow of mushrooms growing far above. 

“Well, didn’t you cause quite the scare?” says a familiar voice—Astarion.

Tav jumps in surprise, leaning up onto her elbows to see him walking over from his tent. The last person she expected to see tonight. 

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” she replies, a bit more haughty than intended. 

Knowing sleep will escape her for some time, she concedes and rises from the bedroll to sit on the log bench by the fire. It’s a silent invitation, how she leaves room for Astarion to join, and he accepts. The atmosphere is quiet, save for a few indescribable sounds in the distance, the very same type they’d learned to accept in the Underdark. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Tav says, willing to make the first move. 

“Darling, I’d say you’ve been avoiding me,” he answers, and it prompts Tav to realize he might be right; maybe it was all in her head and she played a one-sided game. “Tell me about your dreams.”

“What? Why?”

“Can’t I simply wonder what troubles you at night? Our ‘fearless leader’, who shows no weaknesses—yet you wake with a scream, and you weep because of it,” he says, revealing he’s been listening to it all. “Call me worried if it makes you feel better about it.”

“Are you worried about me?” Tav asks, staring daggers at him, challenging him to take off his mask. 

“Possibly,” Astarion answers with a dramatic shrug. “Or maybe I’m curious and you owe me. I told you plenty of my past, of my nightmares, and then you kept your secrets and so cruelly denied me your company. I think you can spare me a sentence or two, dear.”

She can’t tell how much of this is an act and how much isn’t. He’s putting on his usual theatrics, his dramatic tone and way of storytelling, but it’s hard to see beyond it this time. She’s certain he wants to know; she’s not certain if it’s because he’s worried. Or if he is serious about perceiving her rejection as cruel. 

“There’s not much to tell,” Tav offers, now looking away, down to her fingers and the soil beneath her feet. “Tonight, I dreamt my skin was melting off—that’s it. Sometimes, I dream that I’m drowning. Stupid, right? It’s different from other dreams I’ve had. Feels more… real. I feel the pain as my skin turns into lava, I feel my lungs fill with water. Harder to acclimate to reality when I wake.”

She pauses to let him comment, and he says nothing. He’s not even looking at her anymore. He’s staring at the ground too, like they’re looking at the same thing. There’s nothing there besides the dirt and weeds. 

“Did you really think I was cruel?”

“As I told you—you broke my cold, dead heart. Of course it was cruel,” Astarion says, melodramatic, hamming it up for her. He wants her to feel guilty for it; he wants her to stop being so tiring and play right into his hand. Make it easy for him. 

“I don’t believe you,” Tav says. “Everything you say sounds like a pretty lie, and you all but told me that’s what it is. Pretty lies. I’m not interested.”

“It’s not all pretty lies,” he rebukes, almost sounding like he’s taking offense to her skepticism. It’s frustration that he has to work so much harder with her.  “Some of them are ugly, others are pretty truths.”

“Oh? Enlighten me, what truths have you told?”

“That I miss petty vanity,” Astarion answers, keeping it simple; refusing to give more, what she wants him to give. “How it’s hard not to have fun with you.” That one is merely a consolation prize. 

“Is that all?” Tav asks, wondering if ‘fun’ he means that he enjoys himself with her, or if it’s how he so evidently enjoys messing with her. Toying with her emotions.

“For tonight, yes. That’s all you get. You can continue guessing at the rest.”

Astarion meets her gaze now, giving her those sad, red eyes. It might be an act, it might not be—he doesn’t even know himself. It reminds her of the look he wore when she turned him down, and she questions whether that was an act as she’d initially thought. He finds himself entranced by how the orange light from the flames bounce off her pale lavender skin.

He leans into her, watching to see if she recoils or pushes him away. Instead, she keeps staring at him, wide-eyed, and he senses her heart pace a little faster. She smells faintly like blueberries. He can’t resist moving in closer, nose nearly touching her neck and taking in her scent, thinking of how he’ll never get to taste them again; he’ll have to settle for the aroma.

Tav is convinced he’s going to bite her, and she knows she should stop him, but she doesn’t. She braces, waiting for it, and it doesn’t come. Astarion pulls away, and before he can decide where to go from here, she’s taking the initiative and pressing her lips to his. 

His hand instinctively raises to cup her face, deepening the kiss, pushing his mouth to hers like he wants to bruise her. It’s not him, he thinks; it’s something else, something he can’t control.  His tongue seeks entry and she doesn’t deny it, parting her lips with a little sound that he swears makes his stopped heart start again, for only a second. 

When he turns to unbutton her night shirt, movements methodical and practiced, she stops him and pulls away. 

“You don’t want this?” he asks. 

“I do,” she says, that defeated look in her eyes that he can’t tolerate. “Not like this.”

It unnerves him that he knows exactly what she means. How she saw right through him, how she could so easily read his hand movements, experienced and suave; understood another way. How he can’t even bring himself to deny it. She really isn’t like his other conquests. She is special.

She is difficult. 

Astarion moves to leave, to go think about this, or at least think about how to avoid thinking about it, but she grabs his wrist to stop him. He looks back at her, astonished by her audacity, her ability to bother him so.

‘Stay?’ her face asks, and he doesn’t know how to say no or yes. He just sits right back where he was, mind swimming; though not a single one of the swimmers composes a coherent, tangible thought. 

“Darling, you’re freezing,” he observes, picking up on the goose flesh spreading across her arms, and shakes so small, Tav hasn’t even noticed them. The campfire burns away; somehow it’s still not enough to warm her.

“I suppose I am,” she says. “I’d better get used to it. I find it difficult to believe that our journey will be getting much more comfortable anytime soon.”

Astarion sheds his coat, placing it around her shoulders, wondering what he’s fucking doing the entire time.

“It’s always cold for me,” he offers, like he has to justify himself, “and you wear it better.”

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

11/3/2022 DAB Chronological Transcription

Mark 11, John 12

Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible Chronological, I'm China. Today is the third day of November. It is so great to be here with you today. Happy to be here, reading the word of the Lord to you and with you today. I hope you're having a good day. And if not, there is space for that too. Take a few deep breaths and let's come around the word of the Lord together. Today we are in the book of Mark with chapter 11, and the book of John chapter 12, continuing on with the English Standard Version for this week.

Commentary

A couple of my favorite stories. Again, I say that all year long, but truly a couple of my favorite stories happen today. One where Mary anoints the feet of Jesus with her perfume. And it's such a beautiful moment. Like, as I'm reading it, my eyes are welling up with tears. And then it like cuts to Judas who just like, totally ruins the moment. And he's like, should we stop her? Like, should we rebuke her? Like Judas, what? What? But the scripture reveals that Jesus immediately is like, look, dude, no, you're not always going to have me, but you always have the poor. And Jesus actually knew that, like, I mean, scripture knew this. It had to be revealed to somebody that Jesus knew this, so unless Jesus wrote these words, it had to have been revealed audibly, maybe even later, I'm not sure, that or maybe it was just known that Judas was stealing from the moneybags. He was in charge of it. He was stealing. I'm like, why didn't he get ex-maid from holding the money bag? He was allotted to do that. But I guess maybe to fulfill the prophecy. But it's this beautiful, tender moment. And then this Judas who's like, should we stop her? Because that perfume could be sold to save the poor. Almost as if, like, again, you're trying to impress that person to get them to be like, wow, thank you so much. It was beautiful. Yes, we should, Mary, clean this up, say whatever you have. Let's go sell this and then we can feed the poor. No. Totally misses. Well, he's not even trying. I don't know what his heart motive was. Like, maybe I can get a percentage off of whatever we sell this for. Or if he was trying to get pat on the back by saying, should we rebuke her? But regardless, it's this beautiful moment. Mary is washing Jesus feet with perfume. She's anointing his feet with perfume and washing his feet with her tears and her hair. Beautiful, right? Some of you are like, this is disgusting, but really, it's a beautiful moment. And then there's Judas ruining it, the moment and what is actually super interesting to me, something that I'm like I feel like I'm grasping this for the first time today ever. And I've done this so many times, the plot to kill Lazarus. I, for whatever reason, feel like I'm reading this for the first time. I don't remember that there was a plot to kill Lazarus. And you know, the reasoning kind of is understandable, you know, it makes sense because people were believing in Jesus just by Lazarus's life, just by his existence, him being around them and then believing, whoa, this dude was dead for days. Like, he was smelly dead. And now he's alive, and he's right in front of me here. That elevates my faith, you know? And so he's there. He's in this house with Mary during all of this. But then there's this plot to kill Lazarus because we should kill him with Jesus, because why not? Like, it's a two for one, I guess, which is crazy. I don't know why that got my attention for what seems like the first time today. But then Jesus is again, he's revealing little by little, again and again of what's going to happen to him. And another thing that I felt like I'm like, maybe it's this translation that I haven't read with these stories before. But an angel of the Lord sorry, God is speaking to Jesus because Jesus is praying, and he's saying, Lord, will you glorify your name? And a voice from heaven, I'm assuming it's God. I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again. That just, like, gave me chills when I read it. It's so beautiful. You can just tell there's unity. And some people heard it, and they said that it had thundered. So now my brain thinks it is. Every time that we hear thunder, the Lord's speaking to us. Like he's speaking to somebody. Like, if somebody has a word, share it, we're having a bad thunderstorm. No, someone's actually just really getting some words from God right now. And why not? But others were then saying, oh, an angel has spoken to him. Jesus is like, this voice has come for your sake, not for mine. He could have been like, I hear God all the time. This is for you. But he's much kinder. He's like, no, this is for you. This is not for me. And now is the time for judgment of this world. And so then he goes into the unbelief and revealing what's going to happen for those who don't believe. And but then there's kind of like this disclaimer of but those who have never heard, there's this grace, like, there's this empathy. And I'm just like, man Lord, let us be vessels. Let us be people who aren't just like, hey, can I just like, there's nothing wrong with this, but, hey, can I tell you about you heard of Jesus? He died for you. And that kind of almost easy spiel, but more so if like, man, my marriage was like, not me. This isn't my story. I'm just like, coming up with a story. So this disclaimer, like, my marriage is on the rocks, like filing for divorce, but God really redeemed it, and man just like, so in love. I had every doctor telling me there was no way I was going to conceive. No way. No way. No way. Went through all these things for years, and then whatever happened, and now we have our miracle child or you know, I had no job for X amount of time and was applying for everything, and I just stayed faithful to the Lord. I prayed, I saw it after Him, and now I have the best job, and I'm really honored, and I'm really paid well, and it allows me a family, like, all these different things that is sharing the gospel of Jesus, the goodness, it's sharing the work and the realness of who Jesus is, and then an invitation, because who's not intrigued by that? Like, the Lord really came through for you? Yes. And you know what? I think sometimes we make the gospel seem almost cheesy, but it's not like there's nothing cheesy about Jesus's death at all. It's gruesome like it was a movie. I know it is. It's a radar film. It's more intense than that. And yet, how do we even sum it up? And I'm like, Actually, we don't have to we don't have to sum it up. We can be like, hey, man, you want to read this together? Or, hey, girl, you want to read this together? I don't have all the answers, but I've been reading this for some time. I know that that's when some people are like, let's point them to the Daily Audio Bible. Let's go through this together and just watch your life be transformed by it. And, you know, maybe you won't get your marriage reconciled. Maybe you won't have a kiddo after this. Maybe you won't have that job, or maybe you won't have that house. Maybe you have some sort of peace, not some sort. Maybe you have a transforming peace that overtakes you, that you're not worried about those things because you know that you're the Lords and he's yours. And that when you're rooted in Him, when you're planted in Him, when you seek Him, you find Him. When you're grounded in the word of God, you can truly here's a cheesy part. You can weather any storm, and you can only become more elevated and more stronger in your faith of the Lord as you go through those things. Because Jesus does tell us it's not like an if. It's like a when. It is a when. W hen a when, these things happen. Don't be surprised by them. Count it all joy that you're going through these when they happen. Know that I'm with you know that he's with you. He's a Emmanuel. Like all these things that we have to cling to, or we just consume them when it feels good, and we apply them like a bandaid when it's hurt. But then it's like, okay, you also need to keep tending to your body. You can't just neglect your body just because you don't need that bandaid anymore. More like, right. You can't just throw scripture verses on things to make them better, and then neglect the Lord neglect His Word. When things are kind of, like, leveling out, we have to stay consistent. We have to run the race and yeah, so I don't know, that was for somebody, and I'm lifted because I'm like, what was that? But this is great.

[00:09:56.320] - Speaker 1

Father. I thank you for your word. I thank you for your son, Jesus. I thank you for your life. What a beautiful life. The beautiful words you spoke and the actions that you gave to us were such gifts. And I pray that the people who really need to hear you. Whether it's for the first time ever or a first ever story of how you have moved in our lives God. Maybe we have a crazy story like those examples that I shared that came to mind. Or maybe we have testimonies of Your healing in different ways. But God is thinking that they're necessary and they're timely and they're not to just be buried in the soil as this one dude did. Who was trusted with money, God. And he didn't do anything with it. He didn't do anything. God, I pray that that would not be us. We would be the people who would go and implant that. We would be bringing forth glory everywhere, and we would be spreading Your gospel to everyone around us. And it doesn't have to look weird or cheesy. We don't have to go up to people in the aisles unless we really feel that you're approaching us to do so. But that actually it would be in our small groups in our churches and our families around the dinner table or with friends or with whoever it is. Lord, I pray that you would lead us and guide us as we know you do. And I pray that we would be aware of that. And so, Father, I just thank you for your word. And I thank you for this sweet story of Mary Anointing at your feet. And God, may we just have a time of pouring out our affection, our love, our adoration, our praise for how wonderful and how mighty and holy you are. And it is in Your name we pray, amen.

Song - Alabaster Jar

[itsheartbeat13]

I really like the way that The Owl House is handling Hunter’s trauma.

In Hunting Palismen, the way that he was able to just talk to Luz so freely was a nice touch that it’s heartbreaking to see the way he just stops himself from talking about Wild Magic. Wild Magic is clearly a topic he’s passionate about and wants to talk more about and probably would love to talk to Luz about it.

This is without mentioning when he gets back to Emperor’s Coven. 

In Eclipse Lake when he glances at Luz’s messages to Amity, he just assumes the worst despite meeting Luz and should know that she would never threaten anyone in a million years. But his thought process is so clear. If Belos loves Hunter and treats him this way, then that must mean that Luz would treat Amity the same way if actually loves her.

Later, when he realizes that there’s no blood, he says “I’m digging my grave.” This isn’t a normal thing to just say. He’s clearly scared of what Belos is going to him that he prefers death. Then when’s fighting Amity, he’s clearly not in his right mind. Especially when he shouts “you really wanna help? Then give me that key!”

Every time I rewatch this fight I just want to give him a hug.

Next time when Hunter shows up is in Any Sport in a Storm and even though a lot of the scenes are played more for humor by poking fun at how disconnected  he is from everyone else, it’s still an insight into his personal life. 

He’s so brainwashed into thinking that the Emperor’s Coven is the best choice and just simply doesn’t understand that working all year, and waking up before the sun rises are all positive things. It’s really no wonder that he has eye bags.

His brainwashing is also clear in Hollow Mind. When he and Luz look through Belos’s memories. There are so many clear signs that what Belos is doing is wrong and evil but he still gives Belos the benefit of the doubt (even saying that Belos doesn’t have guilt). 

Then Belos reveals himself and flicks his hair made me teared up.

(Even while typing this out and seeing this gif play repeat hurt to watch)

Growing up, my mom found a bunch of events for me to take that have talked about domestic abuse and how to identify it. And she mostly able to find those because of her job and if not for those events, I’m almost positive I would’ve missed a lot of these signs. So I’m really happy that there’s more characters, like Hunter, that are experiencing domestic abuse in this way. Especially since TOH’s demographic is for young kids and hopefully some kids that may be in the same situation as Hunter (or even the Blight kids for that matter) can see the position they’re in and realized that they are being abused.

But something else that makes it easier to see the abuse is by seeing the difference of how Eda treats Luz.

Eda hates the Azura books but she allows Luz to talk about them and read them because she knows that it makes Luz happy. 

She has so many potions around the house that constantly drinks even though she hates the taste. She also still takes responsibility for herself whenever she does cause damage as the owl beast. 

Whenever Luz makes a mistake/does something dumb, Eda uses that as a time to give Luz advice (my favorite one being “ Look, [Luz], everyone wants to believe they're ‘chosen’. But if we all waited around for a prophecy to make us special, we'd die waiting. And that's why you need to choose yourself.”)

When Luz wanted to go to school (even though Eda hated the idea) she did her best to get her in after undoing all the damage she did as a teenager. 

After hearing how sad Luz was that she didn’t get a Palisman, she and King were out all night and stole palistrom wood just for Luz. 

Eda constantly goes above and beyond her adoptive daughter. 

If Eda was in Belos’s shoes, she would’ve never sent Hunter to fight the Selkidomus and if she did, she at least go with him. He would probably talk nonstop about Wild Magic (even if she got tired of hearing it). If the Owl Beast ever acted up, she would do her best to keep it tame and even if couldn’t, she would still apologize for any harm that came to Hunter. If Hunter went on his own to get Titan blood, she would lecture him about not doing dangerous stunts like that but would still be proud of him for what he did. 

[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 16: Tulips

With the possible exception of all of the eighth years getting along and actually becoming friends, regardless of their former rivalries, the first half of Draco's eighth year at Hogwarts was remarkably ordinary. Funny how it took a war to see that they were all just children and all being used as pawns in a bigger game.

There was also, for Draco, the realization that he had a bit of a crush on Potter. He found that he actually really enjoyed the other boy's company; he enjoyed his snarkiness and the way that Draco could see mischief in his eyes. He liked the way Potter listened, liked the way he always seemed to want to casually touch other people. He liked him, plain and simple.

But other than the unlikely truces turned friendships (and in the case of Potter, turned crush) nothing weird happened, no one tried to kill him (or other students), no prophecies were unveiled, there were no dementors, no psychopath teachers, nothing. It was almost enough to make Draco bored.

Almost.

There was nothing strange until one unassuming morning in March, when they were all sitting in the great Hall, eating breakfast, and quizzing each other for the upcoming test in Transfiguration.

Potter interrupted the heated debate that Draco was having with Granger with a blurted, "What the fuck?"

Everyone looked over at him, including Hermione and Draco, to see what had happened.

"There's a tulip in my coffee cup!" the other boy said.

"So there is," Draco replied in amusement.

Everyone chuckled and Potter tried to figure out who had put the bright yellow tulip there but Draco really didn't have time to think about that because he and Hermione were back to arguing about Transfiguration theory.

He probably wouldn't have thought about it again but that evening as they got ready for bed, Draco felt a strange twinge in his magical core, like you got when you were preparing to cast a strong spell.

Before he could really dig into what had happened, Potter's bed curtains flew open, "Alright, you lot," he said, a laugh ruining the stern look he was attempting. "Who put this here?" he asked, holding out a red tulip that he'd apparently found on his pillow.

(Read more below the cut)

Each of them denied having any knowledge of how the tulip could have found its way into Potter's bed, but a bit of unease settled in Draco's stomach. Potter put the second tulip in with the first in the vase on the windowsill and laughed it off.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, there was a story he'd been told as a child. A story that he couldn't quite grasp but filled him with a bit of apprehension none the less.

Still, this was nothing like the sort of anxiety that Draco had been accustomed to forcing himself to sleep through for the past few years, so he put it from his mind and went to sleep.

And again, he might have been able to forget about it, if it weren't for the fact that the next morning he felt a tug at his magical core and then a few minutes later, Potter appeared with another tulip. White this time and he'd found it in the pocket of his robes. "Seriously, what the hell you guys?" he laughed.

Everyone else laughed too, but Draco frowned, the memory of the story niggling at the back of his mind once more, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He continued to try to remember throughout the rest of the week and Potter continued to get tulips. They showed up in his book bag, the showed up in place of his quills, they showed up on his plate at meals, they showed up everywhere and anywhere. One even replaced his loofa in the shower.

By the end of the week, Potter was getting a bit irritated and he'd had to enlarge the vase multiple times to fit all of the tulips. Draco wasn't sure why Potter hadn't just thrown them out, but it wasn't his place to say anything, certainly.

On Saturday, when everyone had gone off to Hogsmeade for the morning, Draco fire called his mother.

"Draco, darling," she said, smiling at him, "I'm so pleased to hear from you. How are you?"

He endured the predictable pleasantries before he said, "Listen, mother, the reason I called," he paused there because this was all a bit ridiculous. "Well, it sounds silly really, but there was a story you told me when I was little," he said. "Something about a wizard who had flowers appear out of nowhere? I can't remember it."

"Why?" she asked, her face serious. "Draco, why are you asking me about that story?"

"No reason," he said quickly. "It's just something that came into my head," he lied.

"Who's receiving tulips, Draco?"

"It's nothing!" he repeated. "And I never said there were any tulips."

"If I tell you the story, will you tell me the truth?"

Draco sighed but nodded.

"The story," she began, "was about your great, great, great uncle Silas. Silas was a difficult man, everyone always said so. He was haughty and rude; he was quite clever but not terribly gracious about it."

"Mother," he interrupted, his knees were growing cold and sore from kneeling on the common room floor, "could we just skip to the meat of the story."

"Yes, alright," she sighed. "Long story short, Silas fell in love with a muggleborn. His family obviously refused to let him get married, assuming that the love would fade eventually. There was an arranged marriage in there as well, but that's not really important. What is important, is that the person he fell in love with began to find tulips everywhere. Every time she went to pick up something, it turned into a tulip; at her home, her work, everywhere she went, tulips."

Draco felt something in the pit of his stomach drop. This couldn't be happening.

"He was pining for her, heartbroken that he couldn't be with her," she said. "Now, magic can't create something from nothing, so in each of the tulips was a little bit of Silas' magic."

"Like a horocrux?" he asked in horror.

"No, darling, nothing so sinister as that. But the flowers were slowly draining his magical core and he was growing steadily weaker." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "So, as the story goes, when he was so weak he could barely summon the strength to stand, he went to her to confess his love. What did it matter if he was going to die? When he told her of his love, she kissed him and his magic was restored. The family was convinced that it was true love and that the love that bound the two of them together was obviously stronger magic than that of blood status."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face, "So, this was a true story?"

"Yes, it's all rather well documented as it would have to be in the case of something like this." She gave him her most commanding look, "Now, I've held up my end of the bargain, so it's your turn. Tell me who's receiving tulips, Draco."

"Harry Potter," he whispered.

Her eyebrows rose, "You have to tell him, Draco."

"I can't!" he said, shaking his head, "You know I can't. He couldn't possibly feel the same way, he couldn't possibly love me, too-"

Something shattered behind him and he yanked his head back to see the boy in question standing there, bouquet of tulips in his hands. The vase had dropped and been smashed, water was soaking into Potter's socks but he didn't seem to notice.

Draco promptly ended the fire call with his mother and wondered if it would be possible to transfer to Beauxbatons to complete the year. It was either that or he should just go off to die.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Most of it," Potter confessed with a little wince. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but then I heard her talking about how everything in that girl's life became tulips and I knew you were talking about me. I didn't realize how the story would end," he hastened to add. "I just thought that she might know something about a curse or spell that had been cast on me."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Look, could you just forget about the whole thing?"

"Forget about it?" Potter asked, sounding a little hysterical at this point. "Draco, it turned six quills into tulips in the past three days. Six!" he shook his head. "No, I can't forget about it and I certainly can't let you die."

Draco stood up and balled his hands into fists, "Always ready to play the hero aren't you?"

"What?" the other boy asked, obviously taken aback.

"Ready to play the martyr," he sneered. "Well I won't have it. I won't have you tying yourself to me just because you're afraid that I'll die if you don't return the sentiment."

"But I already do return the sentiment," Harry said, sounding bewildered. "Sorry, maybe I should have said so, but I thought that was obvious from the story."

"What?"

"Well, your mum said that it was true love's kiss that restored his magic, true love that made it possible for the flowers to appear in the first place. I just assumed it was obvious that I was in love with you, too."

"You are?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe that this was possible.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a little shrug. "I mean, I thought maybe it would have been good to start with a date or something," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "It's why I'm still here, I wanted to invite you to go to Hogsmeade with me."

"You did?"

Harry nodded again. "But I'm glad to kiss you, for the unselfish reason that it will restore your magic," he said, glancing down at the flowers in his hands before looking back up, "And for the selfish reason that I would really just like to kiss you."

"You would?" he asked.

Harry huffed at him, "Are you going to stop sounding like you doubt every word out of my mouth?"

"Sorry, it's just-" Draco started but then Potter was across the room, dropping the tulips as he cupped Draco's face in his hands and leaned in until they were a mere inch apart.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering between Draco's.

"Yes," Draco breathed.

Harry gave him a little grin and leaned in to kiss him, his soft, full lips, gently caressing Draco's, and Draco felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment before a surge of magic, and joy, and love came rushing in and filled him to bursting.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him in closer and Harry hummed, molding his lips to Draco's for a moment before pulling back and resting their foreheads together.

"That was-" Draco started.

"Fantastic," Harry agreed. "Do you feel better? Not going to die on me or anything?"

Draco laughed and pinched his side, "I think we were a long way off from that."

"I don't know," Harry replied, tilting his head to press a kiss to the tip of Draco's nose. "There were an awful lot of tulips."

"Yes," Draco replied, pulling back to look at the tulips strewn about the floor, "And you've dropped them all on the ground. That's quite rude, you know."

Harry huffed at him, "Prat," he said fondly before drawing away to swish his wand and collect all of the tulips and put them back into the repaired vase. "So," Harry said, "I think tulips may be my new favorite flower."

"Mine, too," Draco replied with a smile.

And when they got married, two years later, there were tulips everywhere.

Day 15: Wings | Day 17: Salt

[tea-cat-arts]

Alright, so a while ago, I made this sorta meme-like post talking about how Diluc is a good person who just makes really terrible life decisions, and one of the responses was something like "the same can be said for Childe," and that kinda got me thinking... can it really?

Before I get into this, I feel like I should say I'm defining a "good person" as. I think a good person is someone who actively tries to do the most good (with whats considered "good" varying depending on the situation) they can for the most amount of people possible at the time.

So, my short answer to the question of "Is Childe just a good person who makes terrible life decisions?": No, he's not. Childe unleashed an evil god that could have drowned all of Liyue. And its not like this was a random, spur of the moment kind of thing- he had been planning this for months. Yes, he knew that there was a chance that Rex Lapis would save everyone, but I can't imagine a good person taking that kind of a risk.

Now for my long answer...

I think Childe used to be a good person and could go back to being a one, but he's so thoroughly convinced himself that he's bad that its become a self fulfilling prophecy.

So, heres the thing about Childe- He is inherently a kind person (He obviously loves his family and takes great care of them, and he treats everyone in a polite/friendly manner), but his experience in the abyss left him with a strong craving for what I would assume to be the adrenaline rush he gets from fighting strong opponents. I don't think he actively seeks to hurt others- he has expressed on multiple occasions that he despises attacking those who don't stand a chance against him, he was pissed about being tricked into attacking Liyue, he actively avoided summoning Osial, he expresses a strong disproval of underhanded tactics, and hell, he even straight up says he hates his job and wants to quit so he can travel the world with you- but his desires often lead to people getting hurt regardless of what his initial intensions are (and we know for a fact that this man is not always the best at keeping control of his emotions). He knows what he's doing is wrong, he doesn't know what else he's supposed to do, and he's clearly not happy about any of this (like, the dude doesn't even have any light in his eyes)

Why do I think he's convinced himself that he's a bad person? Well, he says so himself here at the 1:56 time stamp. Its possible that he stopped thinking he could be a good person when his parents sent him away to the Fatui (idk man, its gotta hurt knowing that you're too much of a monster for even your parents to want you around. Like, this is the Genshin equivalent of a roudy kid being sent to military boarding school), but I don't really have any strong evidence to back up this claim. Assuming this theory is correct, this would have made him isolated, vulnerable, and suggestable. The Fatui took the traits of his that he already saw as bad and only amplified them. Even after that, they still sent him away and didn't want him around. Childe is almost completely isolated and lacks any sort of real companionship. He is just alone with his violent tendencies and has no good influcences around him... well, except-

Being around Teucer obviously brings out a much softer side of him. I think part of it is because Childe himself cares deeply about Teucer and wants the best for his brother, but I think its also because Teucer has such unwavering faith in him. Like, there is no doubt in that kid's mind that Childe is the greatest person in the whole world, so of course he's gonna try and live up to those expectations.

Childe's whole story quest sorta had a theme of trusting others with the vulnerable parts of yourself. Childe trusted the traveler with his brother, he trusted the traveler not to kill him, he trusted the traveler with his weakness- I think that maybe if more people were to start trusting Childe like that, start believing that he could do the right thing, then maybe, just maybe, Childe might try and change himself back into a good person.

He'll always have his violent tendencies, but I think he would be able find a better outlit for them.

Anyways, this theory could all turn out to be total bullshit in the future. Genshin Impact isn't a finished story, and this is just based on all the info I have on Childe as of August 10th, 2021. Feel free to leave your own thoughts in the tags or comments. This has been todays brain rot, see ya later

[daydream-believin]

What About the Smaller Picture (2)

Summary: Merlin knows best. And what he feels is best for you and Douxie right now is to sit around and wait for him to come back from New Jersey, Merlin-knows-when. (2) Your first day in Arcadia, it sure is something. (1) - (3)

Warnings: swearing, proofing is for nerds

Word Count: 2211

a/n: i hope to be able to make you feel the awkwardness radiating off of every part of this series

Hisirdoux’s special welcome tour didn’t exactly do its job of making you feel welcome. You supposed that was more of a problem with you than the town. It definitely wasn’t of any fault of Hisirdoux’s. If anything, he was being a little too warm. It almost felt fake.

People appeared to like Hisirdoux. All across town, he would greet friends, introduce you to them. Kinda like he was showing you off. You did not know what for. He barely knew you, yet he talked about you like you were an old friend returned to him. Like he was proud of you or something. You supposed he was establishing a cover story. And you weren’t sure why. Why not just say you were new in town? What tracks was he trying to cover here.

You stopped paying too much attention to what Hisirdoux was telling others about you. He was telling them that he cared for you. That he missed you. It was a lie, sure. But just hearing those words come out of someone else’s mouth were making you melt. It had been so long that it was hard for you to recall the last time a person said such nice things about you. That was sad. You supposed the blush on your face did good to add to the story he was telling. Made it more believable. You felt really pathetic that this guy you barely knew lying through his teeth about you was actually making you blush as if it was real. As if anyone really thought those nice things he said about you in real life. Man that’s really sad. Moving on.

The town itself looked a little rough. Like it had seen better days. It was apparently a hub of magic, so it probably had. A lot of the damage you saw looked very recent though. That made sense. The whole reason you wound up here was because you befriended a girl traveling with a pack of trolls migrating from this very town. When asked why they were migrating, Claire, the girl, had told you that their home had been destroyed in a recent battle. “The Eternal Night” they called the battle. You, of course, knew about such eternal night. You had heard of the prophecy, you just didn’t expect it to happen in your lifetime. And you may had freaked out just a tad when it came along earlier that month, the unexpected solar eclipse confusing you and your studies before you figured out what was happening. However, you had assumed the battle took place underground, you know, cause trolls. The town you explored with Hisirdoux told a different story. At one point you saw a troll walking by, under an umbrella, following a red-headed human woman with a baby in her arms. And the locals didn’t seem to care. No one batted an eye. Strange town.

What really baffled you though was what happened later in the day, back at the bookstore, when you cast a simple spell. Nothing too flashy, just a little levitation on a book Hisirdoux had sent you to find up on a high shelf you couldn’t reach. When he saw you, Doux made a really panicked gasping sound. He threw himself in front of you, shielding you from the people who were not even there, startling you, and throwing off your focus. The book landed on both of you with a thunk.

“You can’t do that,” his voice was hushed despite you two being the only ones in the shop at the moment, “It’s business hours. The mortals don’t know about wizards and they shouldn’t see magic,” he stressed.

“But- uh,, They look just fine with the trolls?” Confusion was written across your face.

“That’s different. It’s different. Look, the situation is weird, okay,” He made a little X with his hands. “But I can’t have you casting spells around the shop. Or in public, period. The mortals can’t see anything, okay?”

“Okay, okay. My bad. I won’t do it again- Promise.” Your face was hot with embarrassment. This was your fault for assuming. Fuck, he probably thinks you’re a wild card now or something. Not a good start to your professional life here. Or your relationship with this Adonis who’s reprimanding you.

“While there are some other wizards around town that I’ll introduce you to tonight, to stay safe, generally just keep the magic for when we’re alone and out of sight.”

“Oh, yeah, uh- Okay”

He grinned. Suddenly, he leaned in, catching you off guard. “It can be a special thing,” His voice was even softer as he was so close to you, “just between the two of us.”

Oh. So he meant when just You and Him were alone and out of sight. Ooookaaaayyyy. He winked to you as he separated himself from your side, and went off to the back of the store to continue unpacking a shipment he had just got in. He left you there, clutching that damn book to your chest, face now hotter than before, if that was even possible at all. Oh no.

Fuck, it was fucking day one. Day one! Day fucking one and you were developing a crush. NOPE. This was not something you were going to do. Uh-uh. Nein. There was no fucking time for this. Well, you didn’t really know how much time you had with Merlin and his addiction to being perceived as mysterious or whatever the hell was wrong with that asshole you worked for now, but the point is you did not have time for this! Hisirdoux was too much. Merlin really should have had the decency to warn you that he was hot. This wasn’t fair. Not only was Doux beautiful, but he was a touchy person. You weren’t going to stand a chance.

The thing is you had been sooo worried about how you and Hisirdoux were going to get along, you even brought up the concern to Merlin. To be honest, you had thought the old wizard to just be annoyed at your worrying, and that’s why he reassured you it’d all be fine. That you and Hisirdoux would get along swimmingly or whatever just get out of my hair kid. You were so afraid Hisirdoux would have to warm up to you like a cat being introduced to a new kitten. Afraid that he’d resent you since you were technically Merlin’s apprentice too now in a sense. And he was used to being number one, no one else to compete with for Merlin’s sparse pride since Morgana went astray. Merlin assured you Hisirdoux was very friendly. But like, would it kill the geezer to give you a warning that he’d be too friendly.

While you were having your little crisis, Douxie was humming along to the song in his head, stacking up the new books onto a display, trying his absolute dilly darndest not to think about what just happened. What he did. That wasn’t weird, right? Oh fuzzbuckets, he did something weird. He was just so used to playing up the flirty persona he’d developed he hadn’t even stopped to think about if he’d be making you uncomfortable. And he really wanted you to be comfortable. Plus, he felt pretty guilty he had to stop your tour around town to go accept a shipment he forgot. Strangely, he was really concerned about the impression he was giving you. Caring about what another person thought of him was not very in character for him. Not counting Merlin, of course. He was going to have to make this up to you. He really needed you to think he was cool. For professional reasons, of course. Definitely.

~ ~ ~

“SO! I recommend the steak because it’s the least disgusting thing on the menu.”

You gaped at the wizard sitting across from you in this sticky booth, peeping your head over the kitschy French-themed menu you held. He had no menu. In fact he refused to even touch it. Great. What did he know.

“I- What do mean ‘least disgusting’, Casperan.” You were almost afraid to ask.

“I mean that kitchen is filthy and the steak is your best bet for something edible.”

“Why. Why would you bring me here if the food is terrible.”

You were always weary of greasy chain restaurants, but you had expected this one to be at least a little decent, since it was a smaller Cali chain and Hisirdoux had fucking brought you to it your first day in the town. Surely he was kidding.

“I just wanted to show you where I worked nights. So you’d be able to find me easier if there’s any trouble. Besides, you can’t say you’ve been to California if you haven’t had Mr. Benoit’s. It’s like In-N-Out burger. Remind me to take you to an In-N-Out burger later this week.”

You blinked. “Oh – uh, okay.”

Hisirdoux continued, “I can’t have my phone turned on during my shifts so you’ll have to come get me directly if it’s a big enough problem. Make up an emergency. Are you good at improve?”

You looked around the restaurant, getting a feel for its layout, taking notice of where the kitchen and back doors were located, making mental notes of all exits. “Ah, well, I’m good at lying, if that’s what you’re asking…”

“Good enough.”

The waiter came to take your orders. Hisirdoux shared an inside joke with him. It should have been awkward, them laughing away at something you didn’t understand why you sat there quietly, but you were a little too fixated on how pretty Hisirdoux looked when he laughed. It was mesmerizing. The waiter took your order. You got the steak.

~ ~ ~

It was very important for you to establish connections in Arcadia’s wizard underground. Or at least that’s what Hisirdoux thought. You weren’t particularly a social butterfly. It’s not that you didn’t like having a large group of friends or anything, you just never really had a reason to have one. And Doux was hell bent on introducing you to every person in this town in one day apparently. You had met twenty-three wizards in counting over the last hour being shepherded through this off-brand apple store. You had so far learned no names. How did he expect you to remember these peoples names.  Scratch that. You knew one name. Zoe. Just because she was very annoyed at your and Hisirdoux’s presence in her workplace, and was very vocal about it. That being said, she didn’t make any real effort to get you to leave. You wished she would though. You were getting overwhelmed. Today had been incredibly stressful, with a lot of information to take in, and with only a brief rest when Doux was handling things at the bookstore. You wanted to go home. Geez, home. You realized that Hisirdoux had yet to show you home. Where was home.

You tugged on his hand to grab his attention. “Hey, I’m- uh – tired? Really tired. Can - can we go home?”

“OH. Yes! Home. Right away. Yes.”

Douxie possibly maybe had been avoiding home all day. It just, it wasn’t much. He had no idea how you were going to react. His space was small already without adding another person to it. Of course, it wasn’t any smaller than any of the one-room cottages that entire families used to share, but it was tiny for modern standards. Okay to be frank it was a back room. Not technically even an actual apartment. But it was his home. And now it was your home too.

Okay, so Hisirdoux lived in his bookstore. What was probably supposed to be a break room was his entire living space. It was… cozy. You set the backpack that carried everything you owned down on the floor and headed for the lumpy plaid sofa. It was nice and old, like a sofa should be. The plaid pattern covered any stains that might have been there. Hisirdoux sat down next to you, starting to fiddle with his hands. You looked around, took it all in. The was a kitchenette off to one side, a bed to the other side. The sofa was in the sort of middle ground. Notably, there was no table, barely any counter space, and various teacups on the coffee table, so it was a safe bet that he just ordered take out every night and ate it on the sofa. The twin bed was on the ground, and the quilts that covered it had visible holes. It struck you that this bed was the only one in the room. The one room.

“So I’ll take the sofa, until we get you a bed. I’ll, uh, figure something out with the space. We can put up curtains or something.” It was if he had read your mind.

You nodded, unsure of anything to add. This was,,,, going to be fun. A challenge. A test to see how long you can act normal while living in extremely close quarters with a funny medieval supermodel. Merlin help you. Something moved in the corner of your eye. You gasped.

“Kitty!”

“Oh, that’s Archie.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Talking kitty. How bout that.

[gwynrielendgame]

Feyre x Lucien

I’m gonna be honest, I normally hate cheating and anything related, but….I hate Rhysand more 😭😭I’m sorry it’s true. Nothing I hate more than an entitled white(up for debate I suppose), cishet man that is worshipped for being a feminist icon. Anyways, enjoy the story.

@decadantstudent @e-bacellar

Feyre was fuming mad and she planned on giving Lucien an earful until he promised to come to the next winter solstice.

"You are avoiding me." Feyre declared as she burst into his room. Surprisingly, he was not shocked by her entrance. Vassa must have warned him that she would be coming.

"Has it ever occurred to you that not everything is about you Feyre?" Lucien gave a heavy sigh as he finished buttoning the cuff on his left hand. He was standing in front of a long mirror, looking as regal and handsome as ever. Feyre put both hands on her hips and gave him the same look Nyx received when he was in trouble.

"Then why did you not come to solstice?" She demanded. She could not explain why her feelings were so hurt, but they were. After everything they had been through, he should at least come to celebrate her birthday.

"Believe it or not, Feyre, you are the only one who wants me there. Not very welcoming." He met her eyes through the mirror before fiddling with his next cuff. Feyre knew her family was not very kind to him, but she did not realize it had bothered him. Most insults slid off his back as if he had never heard it in the first place. With his quick wit and even quicker mouth, Feyre just assumed he might even like the banter.

"That is not true." She struggled to think of anyone else who liked having Lucien there. There was no one, but she simply wanted to argue with him at this point. "Nyx likes you."

"Nyx is a baby. He likes everyone."

"It is my birthday, Lucien. The least you could do is show up."

"I sent a gift. Did you not get it?" He elegantly leaned his shoulder against the wall. His nonchalance bothered her though.

"The bow and arrows were lovely but that's not the point, Lucien." She could admit they had been one of her favorite gifts. It had been perfectly crafted to fit all of Feyre's preferences. She brought it with her on every mission now.

"Then what is?" The bastard had the nerve to look amused.

"I was a much better friend to you than you were to me and now all I ask is for you to come to one event a year."

"Feyre, what do you want from me? I cannot go back and change the past. Trust me I would if I could. How can I fix it if an apology will not?" He seemed exasperated by the entire situation which only resulted in infuriating Feyre further.

"Changed behavior! Be a better friend." She shrieked as she crossed her arms across her chest. She was hoping to come across as a disappointed mother, but she felt more like a nagging mate.

"You hardly seemed like you even wanted me there the last three solstices. So what do you really want?" Lucien pushed himself off the wall and elegantly stretched out on his emerald green couch. Feyre reconsidered for a moment. What did she want?

"Answers."

Lucien looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Would you ever have intervened with Tamlin if Rhysand did not exist?" She decided to ask. She had blamed Lucien as much as Tamlin for what had happened. No matter how unfair, part of Feyre did resent Lucien. He gave a pained look. The first hint of something other than annoyance.

"Eventually. Not as soon as you would have wanted." He admitted while looking away, clearly ashamed. His jaw clenched tightly under her watchful eye.

"Why?"

"Tamlin has done more for me than any other fae. Betraying him in the worst way possible would not have been easy." Lucien offered. There was more to it that he was refusing to admit to and Feyre was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"But allowing me to suffer was?" She asked softly as she stared at her feet. It appeared seeing each other’s faces would be too much for both of them considering neither would look at each other.

"No! I did not know it was as bad as it was. Unlike you Feyre I am not a mind reader. It was not like you came crying to me about how miserable you were."

He had a point there. As close as she was to Lucien, she knew he would not respond how she wanted, so she kept her feelings inside. Regardless, he must have known she was unhappy.

"Do not pretend. You knew it was bad." She finally found the courage to look up at him, but his head was in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees.

"What would you have done in my position? Say Azriel was mistreating that priestess he is so fond of and no one else knew? Would you whisk her away knowing it would destroy him without a second thought? Without a plan hm?" There was such conviction in his eye when he looked up at her that

Feyre paused. She cocked her head to analyze Lucien. Had he been concocting a plan to help her? One that never came to fruition because of Rhysand? She ignored that thought altogether. It was too complicated to piece apart.

"Can you be honest for like five minutes, Lucien?"

"I have been honest!" He was clearly frustrated as he snapped at Feyre. He stood up from the chair.

"Then tell me why you did not help me?" She demanded. "You saw what he was doing to me and allowed it to continue." Feyre had never been this angry at Lucien, but all her previous resentment was rising to the surface and she could not contain it. Her chest was heaving from all the yelling she had done.

"Because I loved you!" He shouted back at her while pacing the length of his room. "Because I knew it was suffocating you and I could not find it in myself to stop it because I wanted you safe as much as Tamlin did."

Feyre reared back at Lucien's admittance. She truly was not expecting that. Lucien stopped his pacing to look at her through his one good eye. He looked miserable and clearly did not want to talk about this, but Feyre had forced it out. He dragged his hand through his hair rather roughly. Feyre suddenly wished she had never come to the band of exiles, had never accused Lucien of being a bad friend. She thought he had been running away from Elain and Tamlin, but perhaps he had been running away from her as well. The space between them felt too small.

"Lucien..." she did not know what to say, so she let the silence drag on. He sighed heavily before sitting in the chaise at the corner of the room once again. He let his head drop, refusing to look her in the eye.

"I knew the prophecy meant you had to fall for Tamlin, so I stepped back. The more time I spent with you though, the more I wanted you for myself. I thought you might have felt the same way until calanmai." He shrugged as if he was not admitting to something that could destroy their entire friendship.

"But then you mated to Rhys and I mated to Elain, and do not misunderstand. Your sister is lovely, but she is not the only one avoiding the bond." He finally looked up at her and the pain in his eye made Feyre want to comfort him. She was unsure if that was appropriate now though. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. She supposed she could offer an olive branch in a room where only Lucien could hear her deepest, buried thoughts.

"I was jealous of Vassa." She blurted before she could stop herself. Lucien tilted his head as he analyzed her words. "I thought I was jealous of your friendship because you were my first true friend, but I think part of me wants you to remain unattached at my side as you were when I was with Tamlin." The hopeful glint in Lucien's eye had her adding on the next part. "I love Rhysand more than life itself and I would not change anything." His face fell.

The silence dragged on with both of them refusing to move any closer to each other. It was safest with Lucien in his chair and Feyre standing by the door. Lucien leaned back in his chair with a surprisingly blank expression. More than anything she wanted to see his smirk and have him crack a joke so that she knew their friendship was not lost forever.

"I started to resent you. That's why I left with Vassa and Jurian." Feyre felt something crack in her chest, but she did not want to ponder all the possibilities of that. "I slept with Ianthe for you."

"I never asked-" Feyre started to interrupt but Lucien held up his hand to stop her.

"I know. But I knew you would never forgive Tamlin if he participated in Calanmai and I did not want that to be something that drove you two apart. I mean I did, but..." he seemed to struggle with his words for the first time ever. He rubbed his hands roughly over his face. "I knew that if I participated that Ianthe would sink her claws into the opportunity." His face went two shades paler and the dread in his voice finally had Feyre crossing the imaginary line in the room. She sat next to him and took his hand. He refused to turn and look at her, but he did squeeze her hand.

"I never wanted that. But I loved you too much and I loved Tamlin too much. I should have put my foot down with him way before you ever entered the picture." Feyre put her hand on his cheek to force him to look at her. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears. It was not her fault that Lucien was forced to be with Ianthe, but she still felt sad that Lucien would have done anything for Tamlin even if he would not have returned the favor.

He grabbed both of her cheeks with his hands and gently brought her face to his. He was giving her time to back away. She realized in this moment she should not have come. The emotionally charged room kept her from pulling away. She thought she was giving Lucien a passionate kiss before they each went their separate ways permanently. Instead, Lucien very softy brushed his lips against hers and then pulled away. It could hardly be considered a kiss. Once he dropped his hands from her face, the spell was broken and Feyre was moving to the far end of the room.

"Sorry." Was all Lucien could muster without even looking at her. Her face flamed bright red with a wave of shame and something else she did not want to label.

"It's fine." She stammered. "I should go."

He let her leave the room without so much as a look in her direction. Feyre had never quite understood all her feelings where Lucien was concerned. She planned on keeping it locked away forever though.

[firerose]

The sea

Feedback is apprechiated ;)

Percy was happy. The giant war was over, he was studying with Annabeth so

they could move to new Rome soon. He was happy….. until it happened. 

The thunderstorm should have been a warning, a sign that the lord of the sky was angry but unfortunately Percy was tired of having to deal with the gods so he chooses not to notice it. He cursed himself for that later. 

He had stood up early that morning, awoken by another dream about the hell he and Annabeth had gone through. His mom had already been in the kitchen and he was greeted by her with a warm smile.“ Bad dreams?“, She had asked softly. Percy had only needed to nod and she pulled him into a warm hug. He loved her hugs, he loved that she had forgiven him for being away for so long, he loved his mother for everything. She was the reason the sea inside him was calm.

“Thanks, mom I just wanted to get some fresh air.“, He had told while departing carefully. Percy was grateful for her but he still did not want her to worry too much. If he had only known that this was the last time his mom would hug him, he would have stayed in her arms forever. 

Percy had taken his jacket and walked outside and then………

Thunder, a white light crashing down behind him throwing him forward with the price.

He lay still on the street while people around him ran out of their houses screaming in panic. 

Percy‘s body was burning, he felt blood running down his forehead but all he could think about was his mom who had been exactly where the explosion went off.

The police later assumed that a lightning strike had hit the apartment by accident but Percy knew better. He was brought to a hospital even though his burns were only small. 

He had insisted that he wanted to stay.“Please I have to see if my mom and my stepdad are okay!“, He had begged the paramedics but they did not stop their attempts to get him on the stretcher.“The fire brigade will find them kid. Everything is gonna be okay“, One of them promised but Percy saw in her eyes that it was a hollow promise. His heart ached in despair and when the doors of the ambulance closed tears fell down his cheeks. 

The proof came when the police visited him after the doctors had checked him. They looked devastated, of course, no one wants to tell a son the message that his pregnant mother was dead. Percy took the news with a small nod. He could not do more not even cry. He had been through so much that maybe this last thing had broken something inside him. He could not believe that they would do this, that they would kill his mother after he saved them. His thoughts wander to Paul and his unborn baby sister that he has lost as well and the sea in him slowly starts rising. 

Annabeth soon heard about his suspicion  She stormed into the small hospital room, her face tear-stained. He immediately wrapped her in a hug like it is her that is going through this tragedy.“Percy…...I…..I‘m so sorry.“, She sobbed.“It is not you fault wise girl….he did this.“, Percy claimed and he is surprised by the deadly calmness in his voice.

Annabeth looked at him in confusion but then she understood. Her eyes widened in shock.“No…... Percy……..he wouldn‘t……..“ She tried to say but her unbelieving in her own words stopped her. They both know Nico Di Angelo and they both know his mother died. Percy felt the waves crashing again his chest, he felt them threatening to burst out and so did his rage.“ Come on Annabeth you know Zeus. He is an arrogant asshole who just cares about himself! I fought years for the gods, I went through hell for the gods and now they… they.“, he wasn‘t able to speak anymore, there was too much rage boiling up inside him. He finally processed what happened and the sea in him roared with a desire. A desire for revenge. Annabeth pressed herself closer to him in comfort. She is scared, Percy‘swords scare her and yet she knows that there is nothing she can say to help him. She just hoped that she wasn‘t about to lose him. 

Percy was grateful for his girlfriend but he knew that he couldn‘t stay. The longer he stayed, the more his body was trembling and the sea roared louder.“ I want to talk to Zeus. Now.“, He told Annabeth could. She let him go her eyes full of something he never saw in them before.

Panic.

“ No Percy that is not a good idea! If he is targeting you then yelling at him would be a great excuse for him to…….. hurt you.“, She answers logically as always but her tone fearful. Percy can‘t help but feel angry at her words.

“I‘m not scared of Zeus and if he wants to kill me he is welcome to try! My mom did not deserve this you know that as well as I so don‘t try to stop me!“, He nearly yells and he departs from her quickly. The storm in him screams in agreement and he looks forward to setting it free, Annabeth hated herself for making him angrier. She loved Sally too so why doesn‘t she support Percy? What did Zeus or any other god ever do for her? A small voice whispers that she just wants to keep him safe but she can also do that against the gods. She gently grabbed his hand and gave him a weak smile.“Okay just let me come with you.“, She pleads and Percy feeling a warm thankfulness for her calming his waves a bit, smiled back. 

The man behind the desk looks at them in shock when they enter the building..“You shouldn‘t be here.“, he claims, his voice sounding a bit concerned. Percy felt cold amusement washing over him.

He killed scarier monsters than this old man. He takes out his sword without a second thought.“ We are exactly where we need to be now let us talk to Zeus or I will try my sword out on you.“, He threatened and did not notice Annabeth‘s worried glance.“You should listen to him! He once took down giant you are no match for him!“, Annabeth‘s voice sounded just as dark as his but she just wanted to keep Percy from doing something he would regret later. The man‘s eyes were stuck on the blade then wandered to Percy‘s eyes as if those could burn him.

He moved back a bit uncomfortable.“ Alright I‘ll let you up.“

Percy felt a sense of victory letting the water rise again. It pushed through his veins and when they entered the small elevator his body tensed from the power it made him feel. The gods would pay for taking his family. They would see what happened if someone pushed him too far. Maybe some days ago he wouldn‘t have felt this darkness but a few days ago he also had a mother. He was overtaken by memories, of her soft voice, her laugh and her hugs. He wondered if it would make her sad to see how angry he was but she certainly was also sad to be killed there was no difference anyway. The memories hurt but they also foiled his anger. 

Percy and Annabeth walked down the way to the god's council in silence. The minor gods and nymphs whispered and pointed at them, their eyes worried some even pitiful. They all knew Percy‘s story and they all feared him.

Only Zeus and Hera were in the throne room  When Percy walked in his eyes immediately landed on Zeus who glared at him in outrage.“HOW DARE YOU COM HERE?!“, The Lord of the skies shouted in fury but Percy did not even wince.  Instead, he glared back.

"How dare you kill my mom?!." Percy spat back. Zeus only looked annoyed but the others gods looked at each other uneasily. Zeus shook his head like he wanted to get rid of a nasty fly.

" My boy, there are things that you don't understand. I'm sorry about your mother but sometimes cruelty is necessary to prevent worse.", Zeus explained and Percy felt as if he had been punched in the gut. How could this all immortal god talk about an innocent woman death like that? He felt disgusted at Zeus rising and Annabeth spoke it out.

"Sally Jackson was a mortal woman! How could she have been any danger to you?", Annabeth asked her voice full of angry disbelief."Well it was more about her child than her, "Hera responded and maybe there was a hint of regret in her voice.

" Silence wife!", Zeus told her harshly but Percy's blood already froze."You.....you killed her because of me?", He asked fear numbing his fury. He hoped that he had just heard wrong but he was the only child of Poseidon so they could only mean him. Zeus sighed as if this whole situation bored him."Apollo gave me a prophecy that said that she would have a child with Poseidon that could end my sign that is all you need to know." Zeus said defensively and a dam in Percy that held back the growing stormy sea finally broke. Zeus had killed his mother because of a prophecy? 

Of course, gods always sed prophecies to harm others,

Percy balled his hands into fists his ears ringing." That is your excuse? you were scared so you just killed my pregnant mother in front of me? She was going to have a baby. She was happy and you killed just because of your god complex!" Percy accused Zeus, his voice trembling with anger. The waves were rushing through his veins and he can feel it in the veins of Zeus and Hera as well  Not as much but it was there flowing through their veins like calm waves. "I told you you would not understand now leave before I make you Perseus.", Zeus commands but that only makes Percy turn to him. 

Persues...

His mother called him that because she wanted him to have a happy life...

Percy slowly opens his hand his senses searching for a certain source of water. When they find it Percy feels a tug in his fingers. He smiles darkly at Zeus."I think you underestimate what I'm capable of my lord. you really should have killed me instead of my loved ones.", Percy muses and he follows the tug by moving his hand forward, pushing back the waves in Zeus body. The god looked stunned for a moment even confused but then his body god thrown back so that his head smashed against his thrown. The stone cracked and Annabeth gasped in shock together with the other gods." Percy!" Annabeth yelled terrified at her boyfriend's power. Percy couldn't hear her. He could only focus on Zeus and how he was held in place by an invisible force his force. He wondered how much he could hurt a god.

He moved his hand to the side and Zeus growled in anger as he tried to resist the painful control he was under. Percy took a deep breath he was not sure what too now should he let Zeus go? Should he show the gods mercy? Then he remembered his mother and how she had died in a fiery explosion. He looked into Zeus blue angry eyes and he calls for the water in the god's throat, His hand makes a gesture like he was strangling someone and immediately Zeus grasps his own his gasps for breath was music in Percy's ears. He feels Annabeth shaking him begging him to stop with sobs in her voice. Hera watches the situation as if it was a very interesting movie. She was not at Percy's side but seeing the man who cheated on her so often be choked to please her too much to interfere.

Percy loved seeing Zeus so helpless, he loved when his other hand made the gods nose bleed with golden blood. Zeus looked in much pain and Percy loved every second of it." Now you know what it feels like to be a demigod. It's painful and you wish that the suffering would end but it never does. How do you like that?", Percy jokes and closes his hand a bit more. Zeus face turned red his eyes nearly popping out of his skull."Percy stop....please stop." Annabeth pleads and there is something in her voice that makes him hesitate." Sally would not want you to do this!", Annabeth said her voice shaking in horror. The words echo in Percy's mind and painful guilt helps to dim his inner flame. What would his mother say if she could see him right now? He was harming others with his powers just like Zeus had. 

His rage dies down like the sea after a long storm. He opens his hand and lets go of Zeus blood. The god nearly fell off his throne as he gasps for air. Percy still felt satisfaction at that sight. He turned to Annabeth who held onto his arm, her face pale from what she had seen." I'm sorry Annabeth.", He said and he really meant it. He shouldn't have scared her like this, he should have just told her not to come with him. Annabeth gently squeezes his hand. She understood Percy#s anger and she even shares it but she still prays that he will never lose himself to his power ever again. Zeus had regained his strength and his eyes blazed with electricity." YOU WILL DIE FOR THIS!", Zeus yells but Percy only felt a surge of frustration at those threats. After all that had happened to Zeus, he was still a god that was full of himself and would not learn anything from this. Percy looked at him coldly." No, I will not. Haven't you learned what happens when you make me angry?" Percy asked dangerously calm. He felt tired of all this talking and especially Zeus. He took Annabeth's hand and left as he suspected no one tries to stop them. The sea in his body has calmed down again but Zeus who is watching him from his throne can tell that he has changed. The sea can start raging again any moment and maybe it was Percy that the prophecy referred to. Maybe he  will be the end of the gods after all.

@emilydaughterofapollo @perseusjackson-jasongrace @incorrectinfinity, @reading0mens @fictionalnormalcy

[kyuremking]

The true power of the Master's defender

According to what we see in Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep, Master's Defender has the power to transform a world that is being destroyed by darkness into a different one and so to speak, unify it and stop its destruction.

But as we know from Khux, Master's Defender is a keyblade that existed before the world was consumed by darkness.

So why would a keyblade that was born/created before the world was destroyed by darkness have that power when we know that the era of Khux is an era where light shines?

Maybe because its original holder knew that darkness could consume the world?

But what if that is not the original power of Master's Defender and what if the power we see Aqua use to unite the shattered Land of Parting and create Castle Oblivion is just a weaker version of his true power?  And what if when Aqua uses Master's Defender in Kh3 to rebuild the Land of Departure it is a more powerful version and closer to Master's Defender's true power.

The true power of Master's Defender is Creation. Specifically it is creation from nothing, the power to create things out of your imagination.

Why do I think that? For two reasons: Daybreak Town and Scala Ad Caelum.

Daybreak Town as far as we know is a town where only MoM, Luxu, the Foretellers, the Chirithy and the members of the Unions live.

So who built it? The only answer I can think of is the original holder of Master's Defender. Who thanks to the power of his keyblade could quickly make a city out of nothing.

We know that in reality the Unions are not really very old, in fact they are at most two years old. How is it possible that a city can house a bunch of children by giving them a house for each other. It is possible that it is thanks to the book of Prophecies where it is possible that it tells the exact number of members that the unions will have. And a house was built for each one for the future.

Even so, building a single house takes time (even if it was made with magic), you would need materials, plans and labour. But with a keyblade that can create things out of nothing everything would be much faster.

And then we have Scala ad Caelum, we know that it is located in the same place as Daybreak Town and we know that Ephemer stayed there alone. And we know that at some point people appeared (like in Dark Road where humans were the last thing to appear on the worlds). So I believe that Ephemer created/built Scala ad Caelum with the power of Master's Defender.

So if the true power of Master's Defender is The Creation, who is its original holder, it must be someone who hasn't shown his keyblade yet and someone who cares about the Dandelions and would be willing to give them his keyblade for one of them to use in the future.

Who is that person? The answer is simple: Luxu. Luxu never showed his original keyblade (I don't believe that MoM didn't give him one to defend himself against the darkness) and we must also take into account the name: Master's Defender, it's a keyblade that exists to protect someone, that someone is the Master of Masters (I don't know why he would need protection, maybe because Sora is going to kill him? I hope so).

Luxu showed that he cared about the Dandelions by going so far as to rescue the data we assume to be Strelitzia and also somehow made sure that Brain could get to the future of Scala ad Caelum.

Why does Brain have Master's Defender? He says that Ava told him it should be for Ephemer, maybe Luxu gave it to Ava or maybe Luxu gave it to Brain and did something to manipulate his memory.(I'm not too sure about the latter but Master's Defender is an enigma that still has several mysteries to uncover)

[angelinasway]

Regaining Hope

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Sexual Assault Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever. Authors Notes: Thank you all so much for being so very supportive. You guys have been absolutely wonderful. Seriously I couldn't ask for a better group of readers. I need to warn you all that this chapter has quite the graphic and gruesome scene in it, so if that's not your thing I highly recommend skipping the part where Clark starts to watch the video. Some major questions answered here. Hope you all enjoy, and keep the reviews coming. Special thanks to my ever amazing beta Hipkarma. She always helps and inspires me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Previous Chapters: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven]

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Chapter Eight

 Dawn smirked as she saw the caller ID flash. So, Buffy had talked to Wes. That was good. She really didn’t want to have to break into the Watchers Council just because she was nosy and worried for her sister. Buffy hadn’t told her much when they talked yesterday, just that there was some sort of prophecy about her and this Clark guy, which just raised all sorts of red flags for her. Dawn had insisted on seeing a copy of the prophecy and her hackles raised even more when she found out how quiet Wes and Willow were trying to keep this. Looks like big sis came through however, and now it was time to give the man on the other line hell for keeping something this important from her.

 “Xand, honey, can you take Abby? Wes is on the phone and it’s time for her nap anyway.” Dawn said, reaching for the phone.

 “No!” Her one and a half your old screeched at the top of her lungs, making Dawn cringe. When they coined the phrase, ‘children are your parents secret revenge,’ they weren’t lying. Abigail was just like her too, even in looks.

 Xander came out of their shared office, a crooked and amused smile on his lips. “You should know by now not to say that word in front of her,” He said, kissing Dawn on the forehead before reaching out and swooping up their toddler. “Come on Abby,” he said as Dawn answered her call. “Daddy will read you your favorite story.”

 “Try to get Joyce down too,” She added, before saying into the phone, “Hello Wes, so good of you to finally call me.”

 She heard the groan on the other end of the line and smiled. “How much do you know?”

 “That there’s a prophecy about my sister and some uber-powerful guy she’s been spending time with, on your instruction I might add.” Dawn said in a mockingly sweet voice.

 She heard him sigh. “Yes, that is all true. Look Dawn, I’m going to send you a copy of the prophecy through your secure fax now. We’ve been able to translate some of it, but there are certain areas where…I don’t think the language is of this world. It’s nothing like we’ve ever seen in any human or demon writings before.”

 Dawn got up and walked into the office, a frown on her face. “You mean like interdimensional, there’s gotta be a reference somewhere Wes.”

 There was silence over the line and for a second and she thought Wes had hung up. She’d just opened her mouth to see if he was still there, when he finally said, “No Dawn, that’s not what I meant at all.”

 Her frown deepened as the first page spat out of the machine. She slid it off the rack and looked at the prophecy. There were several different languages written on the copy, Etruscan, Ancient Sumerian, Ancient Greek, and Latin. At the top were strange symbols unlike anything she’d ever seen before, almost flowing together like cursive. The next page that came out was Wesley and Willow’s translation of that page. She bit her lip, walking over to her desk and went to work making sure what they had translated so far was correct.

 “So,” she began casually, “what I’m getting from the first page is that this guy is much farther from home than just another dimension.” She paused, huffing in annoyance as she snootily added,” It was Sun God by the way, not Star God.” She sighed. “Who are you using anyway, Basile?”

 “Vonten,” He answered and Dawn rolled her eyes. Of course, he was using that moron’s guide.

 “Vonten is an arrogant prick Wes, that book confuses people more than it helps. Burn it, it’s better as kindling. Bachman is the best at Etruscan and Ancient Sumerian, and you already know Ancient Greek and Latin enough not to need a reference.” She said, before frowning as she came to the part about the soulbond. “Wes, what the hell is a soulbond, and why is this referencing my sister and Mr. E.T. having one?”

 As Wesley began to explain what they knew so far, Dawn's face began to pale. Oh, this was not of the good. Buffy was gonna wig to the nth degree when she found out.

 "Does she know any of this?" Dawn asked, turning around and grabbing more of the pages that were still spitting out of her printer.

 "She knows about the bond. I told her this morning." He answered.

 "And what, you’re waiting until she gets pregnant before you tell her the rest?" Dawn asked angrily. "You know this is gonna freak her out..."

 "Which is why I decided not to tell her." Wes interrupted.

 "If you'd let me finish," Dawn snapped, slamming her hand on the desk. "I was going to say this is gonna freak her out, but it would be better if you tell her now." She huffed in frustration. "This just proves how little you guys know my sister. She absolutely will freak and she'll probably fight it at first. Just the idea of her own children having to live the life she has, is not gonna be a happy, joyous moment for her. She's already worried that Joyce or Abby, or maybe even both will be called one day.” Dawn said, before emphasizing her next words, "However, my sister is not stupid, and when push comes to shove, she'll make the right decision like she always does. I get that you’re worried about the Slayer line Wes, we all are, but keeping this from her is not the right way to go about it.”

 She heard Wes’s sigh, “I realize that Dawn, but with the bond itself needing to be fulfilled, I thought that was more than enough for both of them to handle at this time.”

 Dawn looked at the pages covered in the strange flowing script, similar to the symbols on the first page. Wes was right, it was a language. "We need to find a way to translate this. Do you think this is Clark's language from his home world?"

The line was silent for a moment, before he said in annoyance, “Yes, that’s what I meant when I said I don’t think the language is of this world.”

 “Do you think Clark knows how to read it?” Dawn asked.

 A sigh came over the line, “I honestly don’t know. I believe he just discovered where he came from, so I don’t see how he could.” He paused in thought and then murmured to himself, “But even if he can’t, perhaps the ship has a historical archive or maybe there is some form of AI technology that could translate it for us.”

 Dawn frowned, “What ship?”

 As Wesley explained how Buffy and Clark met and the danger Buffy had recklessly put herself in, Dawn found her ire sparking at Buffy’s stupidity. “I’m gonna kill her!” Dawn growled. “She hasn’t done something that reckless since Joyce was born. God fucking dammit, she promised me!”

 Wesley sighed. “In her defense, it could have very well been her fate that made her act so rashly.” He paused before saying, “In any case, Clark was there and according to Buffy, he saved her and watched over her after she went into a healing sleep.”

 Dawn was quiet as she processed that information. So, she didn’t die, which meant Buffy actively tried to stop it from happening. That was good, she was still getting smacked when Dawn saw her, but at least she hadn’t completely broken her promise from three and a half years ago. It was also good to see that this godlike Champion the prophecy spoke of wasn’t just a creature with a penchant for destruction playing at being a white hat because of a curse. That was a nice change.

 “What else do you know about him?” Dawn asked. “I’m assuming you started trying to find him as soon as you started translating this.”

 “Well,” Wesley began, “We first caught wind of a possible candidate about a year ago. We’d been monitoring airwave chatter for possible beings with superhuman strength when we caught a lead. A distress call came in about an oil rig off the coast of Canada in flames and about to explode. In that communication there was talk of a man rescuing the crew members aboard the rig and preventing the tower from collapsing on the rescue helicopter with his bare hands.” He paused for a moment, before saying. “We managed to find a few other incidents of him saving people, one that happened when he was thirteen. According to the incident report, his school bus went off a bridge and into the river. Three witnesses stated that a young Clark Kent managed to push the bus out of the water and rescue his classmate.”

 Dawn whistled, “So this guy really is the real deal white knight, huh?”

 “It would appear so.” He sighed.

 “Wes we’re gonna need to access that ship.” Dawn said, looking over a small section of Sumerian that talked about a trial of choice. The rest of the page was in the alien script however, so any clue as to what that meant was beyond her.

 “I know,” Wesley agreed.

 “Which means, we’re gonna have to tell Buffy and Clark everything.” Dawn reiterated.

 She heard Wesley groan, but he conceded nonetheless. “Alright fine, Willow needs to bring them some pendants to stave off the worst of the compulsion the bond is creating. I’ll have her stop by and get you on her way, unless you want me to tell Buffy myself, that is.”

 Dawn shook her head, “No, no. I think it will be safer for everyone if I’m the one to do it.” Then she bit her lip in thought, “And don’t bother with Willow, just call me when she gets back. I think I need to do this one on my own.”

 “Very well,” Wes agreed. “Willow should be finished within the next few hours. I’ll call you as soon as I know she’s returned.”

 “Alright, in the meantime I’m gonna go over this and make sure all the parts I can read are translated correctly.” Dawn said, adding, "Talk in a few," before hanging up.

 She sighed, rubbing her fingers along her forehead. "Well fuck," she muttered to herself.

 "Everything alright?" Xander asked, coming into the office. 

 "No, not really," she answered handing him the translated first page of the prophecy.

 She watched his eye scan the words before he blew out a breath. "So, this guys an alien?"

 "Looks like." She answered.

 Xander snorted, "Man the Buffster really knows how to pick 'em, doesn't she?"

 Dawn mock glared, before she couldn't contain her amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, you know Buffy. She doesn't do anything by halves."

 ****<S>**<S>****

 As Clark followed Buffy down the hallway, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. He knew she had been trying to reassure him, but her words only had the opposite effect. Were they only feeling any of what they were because of the prophecy and furthermore, given the choice, would she even choose him? She had basically confessed to falling in love with her best friend. The history they had both shared, as disturbing as it was, was an important one to her. She had cared very deeply for this man. How could he ever live up to the memory of a man who had essentially changed a piece of himself for her? Part of him wanted to erase Spike’s memory from her mind, to do whatever he could to drive this man, this demon from her past and another part of him just felt wholly lost. He didn’t want to be anyone’s second best and he certainly didn’t want her to want him only because some guy thousands of years ago decided they were destined. God, he wished his dad was still alive. This would definitely be the type of thing his dad could help him through.

 She stopped at a large set of double doors and turned, catching his expression before he had time to school it into a much more neutral one. She blinked in surprise, "Clark...what’s wrong?"

 He shook his head, “It’s nothing Buffy.”

 Her frown deepened, “Oh no, you definitely have something face. Talk to me. I promise whatever it is, I’ll try to understand.”

 Clark shifted uncomfortably, before finally admitting, “I’m just feeling a little unsure about all this.”

 Her eyes widened slightly, “Because of Spike?”

 Clark sighed, “Well I mean think about it Buffy. You basically told me that you fell in love with your best friend and were willing to marry him for eternity, but the only reason you didn’t is because you were too scared. Would you even look twice at me if he was here now? Are the feelings I’m having for you even real, or is this just destiny trying to force us together?”

 Realization flooded her expression, and she quickly shook her head. “I can’t speak for what-ifs, because I would be lying if I answered that either way…” She swallowed, “As for how you’re feeling, I’ve been under love spells before and granted you usually don’t know you’re under one when you are, but if the feeling’s part was being fabricated, we…we wouldn’t be able to fight this like we are. We would have probably already slept together.” She blushed, looking down. “Fabricated feelings they’re false obviously, but they’re very strong…strong enough to make people dangerous. If what we were feeling was a manifestation, you wouldn’t have these doubts Clark, you wouldn’t even realize there was doubts to be had.” She met his eyes then, her expression serious and stoic. “And as for the fear part, I didn’t want to get into it because…” She sighed again. “You remember how I told you that Angelus showed up right when I was starting to get my life back together?”

 Clark nodded, “I remember.”

 “Well, what I didn’t say is that I was planning on retiring.” She rolled her eyes, “I had this grand plan of going back to school and getting a degree in Art History and moving to Hawaii to open a gallery.” She shook her head, “It was stupid, I know.”

 He immediately shook his head, “That doesn’t sound stupid at all.”  

 Buffy blushed. “I just mean it was stupid that I ever thought it could happen.” She shook her head, “Anyway, I started training a girl named Rayanne when we were first getting the new Watchers Council on its feet. She was bright, witty, resourceful and she already had the makings of someone who could be an excellent leader.” She looked at her feet, her hands clenching. “Me and Giles had agreed, in three-years-time, when Ray was eighteen, she would step in and fill my shoes. Faith didn’t want the position and the only other possible candidate that actually did, I flat out refused due to her inability to get along with just about anyone but Willow. I mentored Ray for over a year and she became…well, like a little sister to me. After the whole General Voll fiasco, I was ready to promote her to Senior Slayer status. She had been on it more than any other girl at the compound, helpful and demanding when need be. She’d fought through a horde of zombies and we came out of it with zero losses. The attack was completely unexpected and if she hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done.” She met his eyes, “I was so proud of her.” Buffy sighed, “A few months later is when the first girl, Alicia went missing, and by the time Ray disappeared, there were already six that seemed to have just dropped off the planet.” She swallowed, “Angelus revealed himself and killed Giles a few weeks later, and almost three weeks after is when we found Alicia. She was the first and youngest to go missing and she was the first he dropped on our doorstep.” Buffy shook her head squeezing her eyes shut, “I knew what he was doing to Rayanne then, and that she would probably get the worst of it because of her association with me. Alicia was just a taste of what Angelus was capable of.” She opened her eyes, meeting his. “I wanted to have Spike claim me so we would be strong enough to save her and the rest of them, and I was scared because I knew I’d be asking for the wrong reasons. I was afraid Spike would know it too and I would only hurt him by asking. Does that make sense?”

 It was Clark’s turn to avert his eyes. “Yes,” he said quietly.

 She pulled out her phone and began to scroll through it, “Well just in case you have any doubts…” She swallowed, “I don’t even know why I kept this. Angelus loved tormenting me and we didn’t know it at the time but there were several Watchers from the old regime who were very unhappy with the way we were running things. Some of them made deals with Angelus, gave out my email and phone number and my location.” She looked at him, her lips pursed in anger. “One of them would even take video or pictures, documenting my pain for him when he couldn’t be there hiding in the shadows to see it.” She handed him her phone, “I’ve never watched this one, it’s the morning I found Rayanne, he saved her for last. I don’t need to see it, I lived it.” She nodded at her phone, “When he sent it, I didn’t even open it. I just dropped it in an archive and it’s been there ever since.” She shook her head, “I highly recommend only opening the third video file, the one that says, ‘Are you broken yet?’ She met his eyes then, “The first two will be what he did to her. So, unless you feel like throwing up, I would skip those.” She gestured with her chin at the double doors. “I’ll be in there beating on a bag, meet me when you’re done.”

 She turned without another word and went through the double doors not looking back. Clark looked down at the phone swallowing heavily, before opening the file. The video began with the image of the front of a house, not unlike the one they were in now, except there was a large tree in front and something very obviously dangling from it. It looked to be sometime in the middle of the night or perhaps early morning, but he couldn't tell either way due to the lights on the house illuminating everything.

 The person carrying the camera ran towards the house and a refined British voice in distress yelled, "Ms. Summers, come quickly. I think it may be Miss Stevenson."

 The front door flew open and there she was, except she looked nothing like she did now, her eyes were wild, feral even, and she was so pale and sucked up. She looked hollow, worn-down, nothing like the girl he’d spent the last couple of days getting to know. The scream that tore from her lips and the look on her face when she saw what was hanging from the tree, tore through him like a tidal wave of emotion. Clark felt himself growing angry at the Watcher, who was obviously playing both sides. Another man with bleached hair and nothing on but a pair of black jeans came flying through the door next, his eyes wild and worried. 

 The camera panned and followed Buffy as she ran out to the tree, falling to her knees and screaming again. Clark saw what was in the tree then and his stomach almost rebelled right then and there. It was a young girl, no older than sixteen and the only skin left on her body was on her beautiful face and near her pelvic region. The girl’s expression was frozen in a horrified scream that no one who cared ever had the chance to hear. A large white sheet wrapped itself tightly around the girl’s wrists and tied over the lowest branch, the excess linen draping behind the dead girl as some sort of sick backdrop silhouette for the body hanging lifelessly from the tree. There was hardly any blood to speak of, just a pinkish residue from where the body had touched the clean white linen, which told Clark she had been dead for more than a few hours. It wouldn’t be visible to a human through the recording, but because of his enhanced vision Clark could even see puncture wounds in places and deep gashes from where the girl had been restrained.

 The blond man came into the picture then and the Watcher came towards them, circling around so he could see Buffy’s expression, or at least that’s what he assumed the person with the camera was doing. Buffy's mouth was open in silent gulping sobs, giant tears dripping down her cheeks.

 “Love,” The blond man whispered in an apparent British accent not nearly as refined as the Watchers Clark had heard so far. The man fell to his knees behind her looking up at the tree. He shuddered as tears sprang to his electric blue eyes. “Don’t look Buffy…please kitten, please go back in the house.”

 The man placed his hand on her shoulder, and Buffy turned at the gesture and Clark could no longer see her face as she flung herself into the man’s arms and began to sob harder. “It’s Ray,” she howled. “Oh god, it’s Ray.”

 “Shh,” The blond man hushed, rubbing hands along her back in a comforting gesture. “I know,” He choked. “I know, love.”

 “We…we can’t leave her like that.” She sobbed. “I-I have to get her down.”

 Clark watched the blond man close his eyes and shake his head, “I’ll do it. Go back in the house, please Slayer.”

 “No,” Buffy shook her head as Clark caught the silhouette of another man flying from the house and over to them. The sound of retching could be heard, and it took Clark a second to realize the sound came from whomever had just come from the house and seen the body. “It has to be me. Don’t you see, don’t you get it? I knew,” she sobbed. “I knew what he was doing to her and I didn’t do anything.”

 “Oh, sweet girl, you’ve been trying to find her. We all have. This isn’t your fault.” The man choked.

 “It’s not good enough,” She screamed, shoving away from him and falling on her rear, “And it is my fault, all of it! They were called because of me, because I was too chicken shit to just except the power that was offered to me!”

 A sob broke from her lips, and she turned looking directly at the cameraman a sudden realization dawning in her hollow eyes. “You!” She snarled, her eyes flashing. “It’s you, isn’t it?” She started marching towards the cameraman.

 “Ms.…Ms. Summers,” Whomever was holding the camera stuttered and then she was there, a well-aimed kick flying towards the camera before Clark saw sky for a few seconds.

 “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” She screamed suddenly hovering over the man, the wild fury in her eyes telling Clark that she had every intention of killing this man, and part of Clark couldn’t agree more. “No one else but an Angelus minion would have called me out here for Rayanne! Everyone else would know better!”

 Clark watched as she threw a punch, the sickening sound of cartilage breaking ringing through the speaker as the guy howled in pain. The way her arms were angled next and the gurgling sound through the phone told him she was choking the man before three sets of arms suddenly grabbed her, pulling her off. Clark could hear the man wheeze as he tried to catch his breath while Buffy screamed and fought the three people who had pulled her away. Faith was one of them, and then the blond man, which Clark was pretty sure by now was Spike, and another man, tall, brunet, with an eyepatch. He saw Willow in the distance coming towards them and when she reached them, she touched Buffy’s shoulder before she could react and muttered a few words that sounded like Latin. Buffy suddenly collapsed and Clark realized Willow had put her to sleep. All eyes then turned towards the cameraman.

 “Get her in the house, Xander.” Spike growled.

 “Uh, Spike–” Xander started to say when Spike turned on him.

 “Get her in the bloody fucking house, now!” He snarled, a sound like grinding bone emanating from the man as his voice altered to something more sinister. “I’m not going to kill him.” He said turning back towards the camera as two glowing amber eyes stared at Clark.

 “Speak for yourself,” Faith said marching towards the man. “I’ve been getting those fucking emails too.”

 “So have I,” Willow said, her eyes black as she stared the camera down.

 “We won’t have to kill him,” Spike clarified as he fell in step with Faith. “Angelus will do that for us.”

 “How you figure?” Faith asked, her eyes just as enraged as Buffy’s had been.

 Spike suddenly sprung forward, his arm reaching out and a ripping sound emanated as the man screamed. His hand came back with what looked like a wad of hair. “This enough Red?”

 “Plenty,” Willow said, sudden realization dawning in her black eyes.

 “Now,” Spike said, a sinister grin stretching his fanged mouth, to the whimpering man. “The way I figure it, you got three options. The first being, you can go back to Angelus and give him this tape, at which point he finds out we now have a way to track you, and oh trust me Marcus, he will most definitely kill you for that.” Clark heard the man begin to sob, and part of him wanted to turn off the video at that point but couldn’t look away at the furious amber eyes that stared back at the camera. “Option number two, you can destroy the tape and run, which if we’re being honest would be the preferable of the three, but I’m sure you are well aware of the kind of wrath he would bring down on you if he didn’t get to see his almost masterpiece complete, so I’m sure you won’t.” Spike’s hand suddenly flew forward and the man screamed in pain, “Or option three,” He growled, “Where you run like a coward and keep the tape for leverage, hoping that your usefulness hasn’t run its course.”

 He suddenly had the camera in his hands, staring directly into the screen his eyes burning into the lens. “Looks like your mole got ousted. This is your last one, Angelus. We’re coming for you and when we’re done there won’t be anything left.” The screen suddenly went black as the video cut off.

 Clark let out a trembling breath looking around him and realizing he had slid to the floor at some point, his heart pounding in his chest. God, he didn’t know, he didn’t understand until that moment. That poor girl, no wonder Buffy was desperate. How many girls did she find like that before this one was left for her? How many videos did she force herself to endure before this one was sent, even Faith and Willow had said this wasn’t the first one? Clark squeezed his eyes shut, she had told him, so had Gunn but to see it. She was driven half-crazy by what that vampire had done and he could not blame her for that. What would he do if it was his mother in that position? God, he could only imagine.

 He shakily got to his feet, listening as he heard the sound of a fist hitting leather, he walked to the doors and threw them open, not stopping when she paused to look at him. He had to reassure himself that she was okay, that she wasn’t that angry creature that he saw in the video. He went straight to her, his arms coming around her in a crushing embrace before his lips met hers. God, she was so strong, he didn’t realize how much until that moment. Buffy immediately melted into him, her lips parting for him as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She was such a small woman, everything about her was deceptively tiny, except her strength and fortitude both physically and emotionally. To go through what she had and still be able to function on a normal level was just short of a miracle.

 He pulled away and looked down into her green eyes, haunted by her past but not dead and hateful like in the video. He bent down and laid his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “I…” He started, “I didn’t…I’m so sorry Buffy.” He whispered, and he could still feel himself trembling. “I didn’t… You hear words like torture, rape, and murder but–”

 “They’re not real until you see it for yourself.” She finished in understanding.

 Clark sighed, hugging her closely, her head resting against his chest. “I get it now, not…but I understand how desperate you must have been to try and save the girls from that.”

 He heard her sniffle, “I didn’t know what else to do. I watched all the others you know, even…even what he did to them. It was my fault, you see; those girls lost their lives because they had a connection to me.” She shook her head, “If they hadn’t been called, they would still be alive today.”

 Clark pulled away and used his hand to raise her chin so he could see her eyes, “You blame yourself for every one of them that dies no matter how it happens, don’t you?”

 She closed her eyes a shuddering breath hissing through her lips, before she opened them, meeting his gaze head on. “How can I not?”

 He sighed, hugging her close again and shook his head. He had no response to that; he didn’t think she should. He didn’t think it was healthy, but he didn’t want to get in an argument about it with her right now either.

 They stayed like that for a little while before she whispered, “You’re shaking.”

 Clark nodded. “I know, the video…I’m still upset.”

 She pulled away, meeting his eyes again. “Do you want me to show you how to throw a punch properly? The heavy bags have been warded well, we can start there.” She looked down, “It will…it will help relieve some of what you’re feeling at least.”

 “Yeah,” He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, okay.”

 ****<S>**<S>****

 To say Clark was a fast learner when it came to training would have been the understatement of the year. He was an absolute natural. He moved with precision and grace, sometimes striking so fast she almost didn't see him move. 

 As of now she was simply holding the bag for him as he got comfortable with the rhythm of landing punches and even with the wards on the bag, she could feel the impact of his strikes. At this rate she would need her suit within a few days to let him get the feel of fighting a moving target. At some point she might even bring him back to Cleveland to put him up against multiple fighters and see how he did.

 "Remember to move your feet,” She reminded. "A moving target is harder to hit."

 He nodded, bounced on the balls of his feet and struck, the impact of the punch making her bones rattle. "Whoa, nice one Clark." She laughed, "Felt that one in my toes."

 He grinned, striking the bag again harder. "You were right," he said casually in between punches. "This does help."

 She grinned, "Nothing like getting your aggression out with a bit of violence." And then she blushed, smirking, "Well almost nothing." 

 He chuckled as he threw a few more punches in quick succession, his own smirk forming on his lips. He had a mischievous look in his eyes and had just opened his mouth to comment when Buffy’s phone rang.

 Buffy sighed, releasing the bag. "That will either be Wes or Willow."

 It was now around three in the afternoon; Clark had told her he had to pick his mom up at six and it was an hour drive to Smallville from where they were. So, she was grateful that they were going to be able to get this taken care of before meeting his mom.

 Buffy walked over to her phone and answered. "Hey Wes," she said in greeting. "What's the haps?"

 He was silent for a moment and she could almost hear him roll his eyes at her butchering of the English language. "Willow," He began, "should be there shortly. Dawn would also like to see you. I told her I would call her once Willow was done securing the pendants."

 Buffy frowned, “What? Why?”

 “Dawn and I have come to the conclusion that one of the languages in the prophecy that I have been unable to identify, is most likely written in the script of Clark’s home world.” He paused, “We are going to need access to the ship, unless of course Clark can read it.”

 Buffy looked at Clark and raised an eyebrow, but he quickly shook his head. “Only a few words,” He confirmed. “I think the computer on the ship might be able to translate it though.”

 “That’s a negative, Wes,” Buffy answered, beginning to pace. “But he agrees that the computer on the ship should be able to do the job.”

 “Very well, I’ll inform Dawn to dress accordingly. The ship is still in the same location I presume?” He asked.

 “Whoa,” Buffy said halting her steps, realizing what he was suggesting. “You want us to go tonight? Clark has to pick up his mom from work, Wes.”

 “I think it would be for the best. The sooner we get this prophecy translated, the better.” He paused. “Lorne told me I needed to send out more Slayers to India, Kansas, and Metropolis within the next two weeks and I would very much like to know if I should be sending two or a few hundred. If this prophecy gives any indication of what’s to come, I would very much like to know what it is.”

 Buffy and Clark exchanged worried looks. “He only told me something was coming for Clark, and we’re gonna need all hands-on deck when it does.”

 Buffy watched Clark swallow nervously. “He told me my time for hiding was almost up, but he said it was in the coming month.” His eyes widened in realization. “We need to translate that prophecy.”

 Buffy nodded in agreement, “And I need to train you harder than just beating on a bag, which means it’s gonna be eight-hour days from here on out.” Clark opened his mouth to argue and she held up her hand, “We’ll get as much as we need to do in the mornings done, but if for whatever reason we can’t, I would loan you the money before I would let you lose your home.”

 Clark frowned, “Buffy–”

 “Take it from someone who knows what those kinda money troubles feel like,” She interrupted again. “I think in the scheme of things saving the world is a little more important than pride, don’t you?”

 His frown deepened. “You think it’s going to be that big?”

 “Lorne said all hands-on deck and it’s you. Someone coming after you has got to be as powerful, if not more.” She watched his face fall and reached out her hand out running it down his arm, “You’ll be ready, and now that we have a general idea of where this stuff might take place, we’ll all be even more prepared.”

 “Wes,” she said, addressing the Watcher once more. “Were gonna need Willow to keep close, and I would call Illyria back from Cairo.”

 “I agree,” Wesley said, just as a portal opened up and Willow walked through. Her smile melting away at the look on both Buffy and Clark’s faces.

 “Uh-oh,” Willow said nervously. “I know that face.”

 “Is that Willow?” Wesley asked over the line.

 “Yeah,” Buffy said.

 “Let me speak with her, please.”

 Buffy held out the phone to Willow, who frowned but took it anyway. “Hey Wes,” Willow said in greeting as Buffy walked over to where Clark was standing looking more than a little worried.

 “Hey,” she said quietly.

 He attempted to smile but he couldn’t pull it off. “Hey, yourself.”

 She bit her lip watching him, seeing the turmoil play across his face of having an unknown enemy out there that could be responsible for hurting others when they decided to rear their ugly heads. She didn’t blame him, if she needed to pull out her big guns as Lorne hinted then it could definitely get bad. She was optimistic however, because of what she’d had to face in her past. Clark didn’t have that same luxury.

 “I-I know you’re not exactly used to going up against big bads, or having to fight gods,” she started. “But I promise you Clark, no matter what it is we’ll deal with it together. Tonight, I’ll have my sister meet us at your place and we’ll go to the ship and find out what this prophecy says. Whatever’s coming, we’ll deal. I promise you; we won’t lose.”

 “How do you know?” He asked, a bit of hope showing in his eyes.

 She stared at him seriously, “Because I don’t lose when it’s the world.”

 His lips quirked slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something when Willow walked up to them. “Wes wants me to fit you for a suit,” She said to Clark, handing Buffy her phone before saying, “And, he wants to talk to you.”

 As Buffy reached for the phone Clark said, “I already have a suit and it’s Kryptonian.”

 Both Buffy and Willow blinked in surprise at his words, their voices ringing out in unison. “You do?”

 He nodded, “Yeah, it’s on the ship still, but I have one.”

 Willow smiled, “Well then, that’s gonna make this quicker. Can you bring it to me? I can enhance it with magic, add some safety features and protect you against the mystical.”

 “Will that still work, even if the material isn’t of Earth?” He asked.

 “Yeah Wes,” Buffy finally said into her phone, pulling herself away from the conversation. So, Clark already had a suit, she wondered what it looked like.

 “So, for the time being I’m going to send fifty Slayers to each location, but keep the others on standby incase things go pear-shaped.” He said, already planning ahead. “I’ll also be moving quite a few closer to all three locations, that way all the girls have backup nearby. I think Willow should stay there at the safehouse that way she’s not far from either of you.”

 “And Dawn, Xander, and the kids? They live in Metropolis after all.” Buffy asked.

 “Perhaps you should explain the situation to her when she gets there. Staying there at the safe house with Willow might also be a wise move for them.” Wes said, adding, “As well as a few Slayers. I know Faith’s been itching to get out of Cleveland for a mission, maybe she and a few of the other girls should accompany her.”

 “Just as long as it’s not Tanya, that girl’s a liability and she doesn’t listen to anyone.” Buffy said.

 “I concur,” Wesley agreed. “Only the girls who are focused and dedicated will be allowed to participate in this mission. I would like as little casualties as possible.”

 “I agree,” Buffy nodded, “What about the mystics, how many of those can we tap?”

 “I have sixty-eight on file, I’ll start making phone calls now.”  He sighed. “I’m just glad we have this much to go on.”

 “Me too,” Buffy agreed. “I’ll call Dawn when Willow gets done here and tell her where to meet us and to put on her suit and a warm hat.”

 “Very well,” he said. “Call me when you know more and I’ll begin the preparations.”

 Buffy hung up, walking back over to Willow and Clark as they spoke to each other a bit awkwardly. “So, let’s get this over with Wills.”

 Willow quickly nodded opening a small bag she brought with her. “So,” she said quickly. “These were a bit difficult to make since from what we’ve read the compulsion itself seems to be based purely on hormones as well as a need to unite your souls.” She looked at them both, “It took me a little while to find what I needed and even longer to put the spell together.” She sighed, “The pendants themselves will be made out of several crystals used to block compulsion, amethyst, ametrine, chrysocolla, and ruby.”

 Willow pulled out two small corked vials filled with multicolored stones and handed them to both Buffy and Clark. “Now, hold out your hands and link your free ones together.”

 Buffy and Clark did as she asked, holding their hands out palm up. Willow placed a vial in each of their hands and then covered them with her own hands, closing her eyes and beginning to chant. Buffy immediately began to feel her hand heat up and for a second it almost became unbearable and Buffy even watched Clark wince from the heat. It was gone just as quickly however and in its place were two hard looking marble like multicolored stones with a dark metallic chain that would hang from each of their necks. Buffy heard Willow mutter one more spell that she recognized to be a ward against breaking.

 “Well go on.” Willow said smiling happily at her work. “Try them on, see if it worked.”

 Buffy quickly slipped the necklace over her head and a sigh of relief left her lips. The sexual tension that had never fully abated her all day finally easing enough to where she wasn’t thinking about sex every few seconds.

 Clark had a similar reaction, his face seeming to ease slightly, but Buffy was surprised when he turned to Willow and asked, “You said the compulsion is only based on hormones, does that mean any feeling we have that aren’t sexual are real?”

 Willow nodded, “Of course, real love is something that can only be based off of free will. Its why love spells don’t ever work. You can’t force someone to love you.”

 Buffy watched amused as Clark seemed to sigh in relief, and then quickly blushed when he noticed her watching him. “Come on stud,” she said hooking her arm through his and dragging him towards the door of the training room. “Let me go grab my stuff before we go get your mom,” a grin creeping over her face as she turned and wished Willow a good night and a promise to catch up tomorrow. “And for the record”, she added quietly as they walked out of the training room. “I still want to jump you, that hasn’t changed even with the necklace on.”

 He quickly reached out to grab her arm, but she easily dodged him and took off down the hallway, a blush and a giggle leaving her lips.

 Clark was suddenly there in front of her, a crooked and devilish smile on his lips. “Is that so?” And then his lips were on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth as she squealed in surprise.

[itsgrishaverse]

MICHAEL LANGDON DEVELOPING A CRUSH ON YOU 

aah i haven’t written something in weeks so thought it’d be good to start off with a little thing. so inspired by pride and prejudice, on a scenario of the sanctuary, after years. this is slight slowburn because there might be a second and third part. maybe. no warnings!

gif by bethskarsgard.

i.

Your first encounter wasn’t special, and that was the best thing out of it. You two have been introduced and he was polite enough all the time. A beautiful, young man who seemed to have the world wrapped up around his fingers. By world it meant people. It couldn’t go unnoticed ( even if you wanted ) the clear way it was important for others to please him and have his approval. The reason behind it all pointed at the fact he was claimed to be the owner of the three sanctuaries.

All that money and power surely would have been enough to keep someone content, yet he didn’t seem to. Was it disinterest? A dull glint within his eyes, the way he looked at someone. He was listening, but his gaze spoke of disinterest. Perhaps it was because he was way too proud of himself that no one would be worthy of his interest. First assumption.

“Do you not dance, Langdon?”

From the corner of your eyes it was easy to spot he didn’t even glance at you when you questioned. He remained still, standing by your side for the first: hands on his lower back, his gaze roaming around the place, observing the way bodies would follow each step. Melting along the melody. It took him a moment to answer, that you thought he’d pretend he didn’t hear.

“No.” The tone of his voice was gentler than the sharpness of his features and expressions. “I try to avoid it as much as possible.”

“But you’ve danced with others before.” It came off as a statement rather than a question.

It took him another moment to speak up again.

“No.” He repeated. This made you turn to glance at him. He still wasn’t looking at you. It was uncertain to know if there was a small smile tugging at corners of his lips. “Like I said, I try to avoid it and I had. I haven’t found myself interested in it yet.”

Yet. You pictured all the times he has probably rejected anyone who tried to make him dance with them. Was he thinking you’d be one of them? Is that why he was smiling?

“That’s a smart excuse for not knowing how to.” It reached his ears in an amusement tone. His body turned, that cold blue gaze landing upon you with one raised eyebrow. The following words came before he’d even say anything about it. “There shouldn’t be shame if you don’t know, Langdon. Just ask someone to teach you. It’s just as easy.”

“And what made you believe I do not know how to?” His next eyebrow followed the other, both raised.

“Because you are young.” You pointed out the obvious. “And you’re not enjoying one of the little pleasures we have in this place. Because you just said you’ve never done it before, unless you were lying.” A grin was offered by you along with a gentle, polite bow of head. “Good night, Langdon.”

You didn’t know if he had stared at you on your way to the center of the place, off to dance along with others. You hoped so.

ii.

It was one of the evenings where you couldn’t sleep, again. One of the only interesting things to do around that time was to find the library or a good spot where no one would bother and question you. You did both.

On your way to that certain place, a sound set you off in the dark room. If it weren’t for all the odd stories, scary experiences that your friends had lived the past days for no reason, you wouldn’t be alert. Out of instinct, you stepped backwards, walking in the room. There was no other sound. There was no one. Until your back touched one of sofas, feeling someone else within a beat.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” It was a half-whispered scream from you. The last person you expected to see was Langdon again. Standing behind you with a book in hands. He seemed to be just as surprised as you were. “I didn’t know someone was already here. I can leave-“

“No, no.” He interrupted with a gentle shake of his head. “Don’t bother yourself. Please, take a seat.”

It was the first time his attention was on you and you only. You didn’t know how long you remained quiet, staring at the book in his hands. He seemed to catch it or understand it, or assume it.

“I do know how to read, Y/N.”

So assumption. Meeting his gaze again, the fluster was inevitable. And he was smiling. Oh, he was smiling at you. It all made it even more embarrassing.

“There wouldn’t be reason to be shamed even if you didn’t.” Such words coming from you made his smile widen like he was expecting it. He shook his head again, gesturing for you both to take a seat. You did. He took one before you. Just close enough to be able to speak quietly between both. “That book in your hands, I’ve read it at least three times. If it’s your first time, you will find yourself pleased.”

“I already find myself pleased.” There was something within his tone that made you think he wasn’t talking about the book. You took a breath. He added with intention on each word. “Not my first time, but it feels like.”

That evening certainly did bond the both of you and such a little space was no longer only yours. It became something for the both of you. Every night. Common interests were shared. You’d bring him a new book every night for him to read whenever he had time to. The first time you saw his smile, it wouldn’t be the last time.

iii.

The “dead little animals” were replaced by “friendly gifts” on his adulthood. The first option did cross his mind. He was guilty of it, but the possibility of it scaring you off made him second guess it. That thought did scare him. Therefore, he made sure that each one of them would be delivered at your door. He’d call them “friendly gifts” in exchange for the books you gifted them. When in reality all he wanted was for you to know he was thinking of you when he was away. Flowers. Your preferred snacks you rambled about when you thought he wasn’t listening. Along with other things. If there was something to be certain about is that he was creative and didn’t hold himself back from attempting to impress you.

iv.

The night he arrived back after being away - off to visit the other two sanctuaries, the first inner thing he did was to seek you out just with his gaze. It wasn’t shown across his features, always wearing the disinterested mask. And he was. Yet the only interesting thing that’s happened to him after long lonely time was meeting you.

He’d call it just an interest. Like when you met someone new and enjoyed to have them. Thing is, Michael wasn’t the type to enjoy having others around because he wanted. Duty called it. It was duty above all. And despite it all, he was a sensible man. A heart easy to catch if you were smart enough.

He doubted that you did it on purpose. Did you? There was no way you would know all the times he had thought of you when he was away. The days he has counted to know how long it would take him to see you again, days which became a month and then two and then three months. The longer it was, the further it pained him in ways he just wouldn’t tell.

You couldn’t know either that every time he took a book in hands, you’d cross his mind again.

As soon as he spotted you, it seemed like you had already. Your gaze met his and he was enlightened to see that smile on your face. Did he notice how well he could mask his own? For a man who had to, no he didn’t.

Therefore, it went unnoticed in his eyes how boring he came off when he looked at you. A single thing which made your heart squeeze in thoughts he had gone back to be just a stranger. When his own heart was beating with anticipated excitement.

v.

There were no shared words all night between you two. For a few reasons, he was most of the time dragged away by others. And you were most of the time enjoying your own time — either alone or with others.

Celebrations, even when this was in his name, was to enjoy yourself.

The first time you stopped and stood next to a table, three minutes didn’t go by before you felt him. It was hard not to. There was something about him. His aroma, maybe. Whatever it was, it would give him away. Maybe just to you at least.

He just stood there. For a minute, it made you believe that he was talking to someone else, but he wasn’t. Not to anyone else nor to you. He was looking at you with a slight furrow of eyebrows. To him his own expression meant: “are you ignoring me?” but to you, it came across like he was judging you. displeased to see you, maybe. was it your clothes that he didn’t like? he didn’t want you around? but it was him approached you. what was it? why was he frowning at you?

There wasn’t any given question or words. You two just stared at each other. He, with a frown. You, with one raised eyebrow. The stare was interrupted by someone else approaching you, asking you for a dance, which you accepted.

Two hours went by. At this point everyone was just doing whatever they pleased and there was no sight of Michael Langdon. Why must he be such a complicated man? You couldn’t know his thoughts even when you wanted to. Maybe you were just complicating it all yourself and there was nothing at all. It was what it was.

After your last dance, your way was blocked out by the sight of the beautiful young man standing before you. Close enough to you. It came all of a sudden that it didn’t give you enough time to react before he asked.

“Y/N. Would you save me a dance for tonight?”

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[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 57: Gatto’s Keep

Becoming The Mask

Trollish and -text messages-

I hope we all enjoy the movie when it comes out this Wednesday! Remember, today’s the last day to start binge-watching and still have enough time to watch every episode of all three shows before the movie airs!

+=+

Four humans, one Changeling, and two unaltered trolls were scatted around an underground library, researching notable locations around the world.

"Whoa, listen to this," said Jim. "Surrounding the Hero's Forge of Heartstone Trollmarket is a chasm known as The Deep, which was enchanted through unknown means by the Trollhunter Kanjigar the Courageous."

They were hoping to find notable mountains, in particular, but 'caverns deep' had also been mentioned in the riddle, and hey, maybe Strickler had been wrong about where the Eye was before the Changelings got it.

"Anyone cast into The Deep will suffer death at the hands of their greatest fear. It has since been used as a means of execution for particularly heinous criminals. No troll is known to have entered The Deep and lived."

Jim frowned and traced over that last sentence with his fingertip.

"How does anybody know it works if no one has ever come back?" he said. "Maybe they just die on impact after getting dropped off a cliff. Or maybe there's, like, a little society down there now and they're just choosing not to leave."

"I saw a cartoon like that once," said Toby.

"Also," Jim continued, "I understand why, if you think somebody deserves to be tortured to death, you would use magical means to get them to come up with a customized torture for themselves to maximize their suffering; but why would you kill someone, who you definitely want executed, in a way that makes it impossible to check and confirm they're dead?"

"Isn't that how oubliettes work?" said Mary.

"Good point."

"You understand torturing people to death?" said Darci.

"I understand trying to do a thing a thoroughly as it can possibly be done."

"Maybe Kanjigar pretended to enchant the place so he could have a spot no one would bother him if he wanted to get away from his job for a while," said Toby.

"Surrounded by the bodies of executed criminals?" said Darci.

"Depending on how hard they landed, they might already be gravel," said Jim. "It's a little unsettling when you know that used to be a troll, but you get used to it. Besides, Kanjigar was only Trollhunter for … what, just under a hundred and seventy years? How many 'particularly heinous criminals' could there have been down here in that time?" He turned to Blinky. "No, really, I'm asking."

"Offhand I can only think of three cases, all involving treason. Perhaps Kanjigar can explain the enchantment next time you visit the Void. Ah!"

Blinky turned his book so everyone else could see the illustrated mountain.

"Gatto's Keep! Deep in the realm of the Volcanic Trolls, in what you humans call 'Argentina', under the volcano Ojos del Salado."

"The eye of the salty?" said Claire.

"Believed to be named for the many salt deposits found on its glaciers, forming eye-like lagoons of meltwater," said Blinky, brushing the interruption off.

"Salt gets expelled through volcanic ash," said Toby. "Or chlorine gas that fuses to nitrogen later. Underwater volcanic activity is part of why the ocean is salty."

"Fortunately, this particular site is not underwater," said Blinky. "Gatto's Keep, a vault of treasures untold – treasures deemed too powerful for the underworld to possess, and kept locked up by Gatto himself."

"Have you ever met this Gatto?" asked Jim.

"Uh … no. Truth be told, I've done everything in my power to avoid him. Very few ever return from his keep."

"I see." Jim frowned down at the book in his lap. "Then maybe you guys shouldn't come."

"What?"

"Are you kidding?"

"The last time we went on a Triumbric Stone quest, a supposedly mostly safe quest, we ended up in the middle of a violent revolution!" Jim reminded them. "I'm not leading a bunch of kids somewhere I know in advance is going to be dangerous!"

"He makes a fair point," conceded Blinky.

"But you can't just go on your own!" Toby protested.

"Of course I won't. Blinky's got to drive the Gyre, and I'll bring Draal for muscle, and –" Jim cut himself off, looking quickly around the room. "Maybe someone else, but I'll have to ask. And if she can, it'll have to work around her schedule."

"You're bringing your mom?" Darci asked.

"No!" Jim recoiled from the idea. "I – Look, there's a Changeling I know who might be able and willing to help, especially for a chance at a legendary vault of forbidden treasure, but I have to ask."

Toby got out his phone and texted Jim rather than asking out loud.

-It's the museum lady, isn't it?-

Jim just glared at him. Both boys deleted the message.

+=+

"Have you ever heard of Gatto's Keep?"

Nomura raised her eyebrow at the Trollhunter.

"Not much. It was one of the places we suspected a piece of the Bridge might be hidden, but considering it had a reputation of no one ever coming back from it, we weren't actually sure if it was real."

It was just as likely to have been an old story that got passed down until it became a figure of speech. The Janus Order’s references to it were all from before Nomura was even stationed on the surface – she'd happened upon them while on archive duty decades ago.

"Blinky says it's real." Jim shrugged. "Or at least Gatto is real, and lives in Argentina. We're planning to go see him about an artifact he might have."

"You're not looking for the Triumphant Stones, are you?" she asked. "Draal's told me that story." Years ago, back when he'd first tried to convince her to change sides. It was the closest he'd ever been to philosophical. "Building a weapon is one thing, but chasing prophecies is another."

Jim shrugged again. "If I'm going to do this, I might as well take every advantage I can. The Triumbric Stones might not be the key their reputation says, but they'll still help."

"Assuming the stones aren't just a trap that will put the Amulet under Gunmar's control."

He snorted. "Oh, come on. If they worked that way, Bular would've been the one to bring them up."

"Not if the conspiracy went deep enough." She snorted as well. "Sure, I'll help loot the place."

"If diplomacy fails," said Jim insistently. "I want to at least try cutting a deal first. When do you have time?"

"I don't work Wednesday or Thursday."

"Great. I'll text. Oh, also," he suddenly looked much more shy, "this comes with a risk of a human or several finding out about you. Still in?"

Nomura leveled a glare at Jim, letting him squirm while she thought it over. (He didn't squirm at all, the shameless wretch. Just looked at her with that stupid timid hopeful expression.)

"For a chance at a legendary treasure trove like that, I might transform in public."

Human public, where they could make up some excuse about hidden cameras and movie costumes and practical special effects, not Trollmarket public, but most Changelings wouldn't need to clarify that.

+=+

Nomura had a duffle bag slung over her shoulder and was wearing a wide-brimmed brown fedora.

"Isn't that Stricklander's hat?"

"It's traditional garb for archeological expeditions."

"You stole it, didn't you?" His inflection made it clear this was not really a question.

"I'm going to send him a selfie and see how long it takes him to realize it's his." Nomura held her phone out and snapped a picture.

"Hi, museum lady!" Toby greeted. They were meeting in the canal. "I brought tacos!"

"… Why are we bringing him?"

Jim sighed. He hadn't wanted to, but Toby made a good argument.

"Diversity of perspective. A human might notice something a troll or Changeling would miss, just like vice versa. We don't know how organized this Gatto guy's collection is. We might have to go looking for the Birthstone."

Thankfully Claire had a 'family thing', Darci had an 'extracurricular commitment', and Mary had a date, all on Wednesday, and he had been able to get that information without revealing Thursday was also an option.

Inside, Nomura shifted to her troll form, keeping the hat showing. Toby gasped.

"You're so tall …"

"Toby, Nomura," introduced Jim. They started climbing down the glowing staircase. "Officially, she's one of Draal's old sparring buddies who's agreed to come on this mission for extra muscle."

So please do not address her as 'museum lady' where anyone can hear you.

"Isn't Draal coming too?" asked Toby.

"Which is how she got invited."

"I don't get it."

"She's going to meet Draal while you and I go to the library, and then we're all meeting up at the Gyre station."

"Why didn't she just –" Toby stopped and readdressed the question to Nomura. "Why didn't you just meet up with Draal at Jim's place?"

"I'm avoiding the chance Barbara will try asking me for life advice again," said Nomura lightly.

Jim's eyebrows went up. He hadn't questioned her suggestion to meet in the canal, but now he really wanted the story there …

"When did that happen?" asked Toby.

"We're in the same krav maga class."

Which did not completely answer the question, but Toby seemed to think it did, and Jim didn't want to push when Nomura was arguably doing him a favour.

On the one hand, he could claim to be doing her a favour, taking her along on a treasure hunt where she could sneak out an artifact or two for herself, but on the other hand, she was loaning her experience in identifying and handling ancient artifacts and dealing with stuffy curators. The situation was roughly neutral and Jim didn't want to tip it.

The walk to the library, and to the Gyre station after that, were peaceful. AAARRRGGHH accompanied them as far as the station entrance.

"Good luck," he said, tapping his horns against Blinky's, rubbing the top of Jim's helmeted head like he was fluffing his hair, and giving Toby a very gentle pat on the back.

"I will look after them," Draal promised, arriving with Nomura. "We will all return from Gatto's Keep."

"Well, now that you've said that," Nomura teased.

+=+

Jim's first impression was that Ojos del Salado looked like a construction project was underway. Or, maybe a mining operation? The mountain was hollowed out, with another mountain inside, and the inner mountain was covered with ladders and scaffolding.

"Ugh, it's so hot," Toby complained. "I know it's a volcano, but still." He pulled at his sweater vest but didn't take it off.

The local trolls wore what looked like welding masks over their faces, and had faintly glowing orange lines carved into their skin. Two appeared to be standing guard near the Gyre station – but facing in, towards the complex, rather than outwards to new arrivals.

Very few ever return, rang loudly through Jim's mind.

"Excuse me," said Blinky to one of the sentries. "We would most graciously request an audience with Gatto."

The troll wordlessly pointed them to the top.

"Ah … thank you, kind friend."

Toby was groaning after the first few ladders. By the time they neared the top, he had stopped, probably to conserve energy – but he managed another when they realized the platform was empty.

"Where is he? They pointed 'up' but there's no more 'up' to go … Did he leave while we were climbing up here?"

Jim eyed the stone the scaffold was built by. It might be climbable. There was a long but narrow ledge about level with the platform, and a tall, V-shaped protrusion probably taller than AAARRRGGHH, and – the ledge split apart. It glowed inside.

"Who has awakened Gatto?"

The mountain-in-a-mountain opened two glowing yellow eyes. A chuckle made the platform shake.

"A human Trollhunter?" the mountain-in-a-mountain said. "How interesting. How … unique. To what do I owe this … pleasure?"

Jim cleared his throat and leaned back a little so he could look Gatto in the eye. "We've come to ask –"

One of the masked trolls arrived, pushing a wooden cart of rocks. The delivery-troll darted away just in time to avoid a massive tongue, and ran back off the platform into the lower scaffolding. Jim reflexively summoned his knives. It was difficult to will them away.

"You must excuse me," said Gatto. "I never talk business without something to eat. Go on."

"We've come for the Birthstone."

"Birthstone of Gunmar?" The mountain troll chuckled again. "Very powerful. Tell me … why should I give it to you?"

"Of course we don't expect you to just give it to us."

Jim ignored Draal's quiet, "We don't?" He took off his backpack, handed it to Blinky, and unzipped the top.

"We've come prepared to trade."

"We did?"

The first thing Jim got out was black and rectangular. Its cord was plugged into a crystal array which some trolls used to substitute for electrical outlets, to power the neon signs and Christmas lights and televisions down in Trollmarket. Blinky had one for his phone charger.

"This is an uncommon human device. You activate and deactivate it with this button here." Jim pushed the button twice, demonstrating. "By turning these knobs, it's possible to generate a custom frequency of audible static."

He put the white noise generator back in his bag, and got out a lumpy object wrapped in a towel. He draped the cloth over his shoulder and held the item where Gatto could see it.

"This is the head of Bular, son of Gunmar, taken as proof that he was slain. Proof that Gunmar's line is not unkillable."

Gatto looked intrigued. Jim rewrapped the head in the towel and switched it for a book. Blinky grimaced during the exchange.

"And this is a document stolen from a Janus Order base; an unfinished medical study of foods that provide nutrition to both humans and trolls."

He flipped through a few pages so the text was visible, proof he wasn't scamming Gatto with a blank notebook, and put it away.

"Seller's choice. Rare artifacts that carry entertainment, power, and knowledge. Which of those would you accept as payment for the Birthstone?"

"Hmm …" The mountain troll pondered the selection. "I think I will have all three. Along with the answer to a little riddle. Answer it correctly – the Birthstone is yours. Answer it incorrectly – I eat you all."

"WHAT?" Toby yelped. "Did I understand that right? Did he say 'eat'? He said 'eat'!"

"Breathe, Tobes." The Sword of Daylight was in Jim's hand. His first instinct was to pick Toby up and bolt for the Gyre. He should be strong enough for that if he switched to troll form, right?

But they needed the Birthstone …

"Master Jim, we must not enter into this binding agreement," Blinky hissed in English. "I'm beginning to catch on why so few trolls ever leave this domicile."

"We'll play!"

"Nomura?!"

"It's simple – either we figure out the riddle and he gives us the stone, or we refuse to answer, which is not technically answering incorrectly, and fight our way out."

"… When you're right, you're right," Jim agreed.

"You think you are clever," said Gatto. "So answer me this. What begins and has no end, and ends all that which begins?"

Blinky blinked, in full unison for once, all six eyes together. "… I have absolutely no idea. Those words mean nothing! Indecipherable!"

"Begins and has no end," Jim repeated to himself quietly, "and ends all that begins."

"I … don't think I can help," said Draal reluctantly. "Rocks for brains, remember?"

"Well, that attitude's not helping, for sure. Begins with no end, ends what begins …"

"School bus?" Toby guessed, switching back to English. "Uh, meatloaf? Hair?"

"Let's think logically," said Nomura, also in English. "In these situations, the answer is almost always one of four things: death, nothing, eternity, or a riddle itself." She counted them off on her fingers. "The answer to a riddle is its end. Eternity by definition doesn't have a beginning or an end. So it's either death or nothing."

"Ten more seconds," said Gatto ominously.

"You didn't tell us we were on the clock!" Blinky protested.

"What begins and has no end, but doesn't end when it begins –?" Jim punched his hand. "Shoot, that's not it! Could you repeat the question?"

"Kangaroo! Golf! Socks! Magic! Warhammer! Baby deer!"

"DEATH!" shouted Nomura. "The answer is death!"

"What?" Gatto gasped. "No one has ever answered that before … and lived to tell about it."

The celebration at getting the correct answer ended immediately.

"And that's the hazard of riddle games where the answer is death," said Nomura. "Most riddle-givers pick that answer because it's what they plan to give the riddle-solvers anyway."

The group was surrounded by four masked trolls, all armed with axes about twice the size of the hammer Toby carried.

"Your entire keep is a trap!" Blinky accused Gatto. "You hoard treasures as nothing but bait!"

"Oh, come now. A mountain has to eat, you know." He opened his mouth, like he expected them to just obediently walk in.

Jim summoned Daylight. The volcano trolls all flinched back from the burst of light.

Nomura lunged at the guard nearest to the ladder. She caught the axe between her swords and twisted it out of the masked troll's grip, flinging the weapon into Gatto's mouth – he yelped when it caught his tongue – and in the same spin she kicked the masked troll off the platform.

Draal punched a masked troll, then grabbed them and another one and bashed their heads together.

Blinky swung Jim's backpack like a flail at anyone who got too close to him. Jim heard a cracking noise, either from the head or the white noise generator, but that wasn't important.

Jim swiped a masked troll across the belly, leaving a shallow cut and causing them to bellow in pain. He threw a knife at another one that was going after Toby, who was doing his best to parry their axe strikes.

Nomura kicked another one off the platform, and Draal threw a third, but more were climbing up, and driving the group back towards Gatto's mouth.

"Get them!" Gatto egged the smaller trolls on. "Prepare the chimichurri!"

A masked troll landed a punch on Nomura and knocked her backwards into Toby. Gatto's tongue flicked out and tossed them both into his mouth.

"I don't want to be food!" Toby howled, before Gatto's jaws snapped shut around them and the mountain gulped.

"Toby! Nomura!" Jim screamed. "TOBY!"

"RAH!" Draal charged Gatto –

"Draal, no!" Blinky shouted.

– and Gatto simply opened his mouth again and swallowed the rolling troll.

Jim's helmet sealed as he switched to troll shape. He threw a volley of knives at their attackers, who backed off for the few seconds he needed to shove Blinky to the ladder.

"Get to the Gyre!" he roared. At one level down, below that horrid mouth, he turned and lunged at Gatto.

Swallowing wasn't instant. If he could get the throat open, he could still save them. He didn't know if he could gut a mountain but he'd find out if that was what it took to get Toby back –

Daylight was a sword, not a pickaxe. Jim slashed and stabbed, and scratched with his now-clawed gauntlets and boots, and made barely any headway.

"Jim!" Blinky was now several levels of scaffolding lower, and fending off more of the smaller volcano trolls with an axe he must have grabbed from one of them. "Were we not attempting to vacate?"

Jim let go of Gatto and slid down the mountainside, and with another roar he stabbed the troll nearest to Blinky through the eye with one of his daggers, shattering the lens on that side. The troll bellowed in pain and clutched their face, dropping their axe. The dagger vanished, leaving an open wound, and reappeared in Jim's hand. He sliced into the arm of another attacker.

The troll with the injured eye staggered and, between the pain and the sudden loss of depth perception, knocked the other masked trolls off the platform. Blinky threw the ladder after them, reducing pursuit from above.

Jim turned to start burrowing through Gatto's hide again.

"Jim!" said Blinky again. "We must leave!"

He barely heard Blinky. He certainly didn't hear his phone, chiming the alert for an incoming text.

+=+

The stomach was even hotter than the 'outside' had been. Toby had gone through both his water bottles during the climb up to meet Gatto and didn't have any left. Not that this was his primary concern at the moment, considering –

"We just got eaten!"

"I noticed," said Nomura scathingly.

"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, this isn't happening, this isn't happening –"

"Do you have an international plan?" she said, interrupting his entirely justified freak-out.

"What?" asked Toby. "What does that have to do with anything? We're in a stomach! It doesn't matter what country the stomach's in!"

"Ugh. I'll take that as a no." She got her phone out of the duffle bag she carried and shoved the device into Toby's hand. "Text Jim. We're alive, Gatto's Keep is Gatto's gut," gesturing at the gold and artefacts around them, "and we're going for the Birthstone."

Assuming the lava-acid, which was rising, didn't get them first.

Draal came down the tunnel, fast enough he shot over their heads and over pool of lava-acid, skipping once (with a roar of pain) and landing on the other side.

"Draal! Are you okay?" It was a stupid question that Toby asked without any conscious thought.

Draal uncurled and growled. He gingerly touched his right arm, which looked shinier than usual and must have been what touched the lava.

"Where are we?"

"Gatto's Keep," said Nomura. "I guess that's one way to deter theft. Find the Birthstone. And be careful what else you touch, some of this might be cursed." She put a triangular thing with green gems on it into her bag. "We'll crawl up his throat and choke him or something once we've got it."

Wow, Nomura was not a detailed texter. Toby saw the last few messages she'd exchanged with Jim while he was typing.

Jim: -Today still works to check that collection?-

Nomura: -16:30- -canal-

Jim: -Okay, see you there!-

Toby, on Nomura's phone: -still alive- -gatto's keep in stomach- -going for birthstone-

Toby put her phone in his pocket and started digging through the piles of gold.

Curses or no curses, if Nomura got to take souvenirs, Toby was totally stealing some of these gold coins.

And maybe that glowy purple rock –

Wait –

"I think I found it!"

+=+

Jim – Jim couldn't do it, he couldn't stab deep enough to cut Gatto open and protect himself and Blinky at the same time –

He kept having to abandon his spot and climb down a few levels, and start over at an even thicker part of the mountain's hide –

Blinky kept urging him to the Gyre, but they couldn't leave, not yet, they had to get Toby back, they had to get Nomura and Draal, they couldn't just leave them behind –

Jim drew one of his poisoned knives. He carried more varieties on him than just Creeper's Sun. Gatto couldn't get away with this. Jim was the Trollhunter, he wasn't going to let some troll eat a human right in front of him. He wasn't going to let some troll eat Toby and live.

He drove the knife into a cut he'd already started with his sword, and left it there while fending off the masked trolls again, then ripped it out.

If Jim didn't manage to kill Gatto today, the troll would suffer a much slower death.

+=+

Draal had been favouring his burned arm. He looked up the steep tunnel of Gatto's throat and tried to lift his burned arm, and grunted in pain.

"I … I can't climb out. You'll have to leave me behind."

"What is wrong with you today?" Nomura demanded. "You've never been this – this fatalistic before."

"Guys," Toby interrupted. "There's another way out, but you're not gonna like it. If this is his stomach, then there's a 'back door', and if we upset the stomach," he tossed a nearby crystal into the acid, where it dissolved with a flatulent sound, "then we might have a chance to be passed through."

Nomura grimaced. "We're going out that way eventually." She started tossing things into the acid as well. "I'd rather go out alive."

"What are you both –? Oh." Draal's eyes widened and he looked like he might have an upset stomach himself. "That's – ugh. The shame of being remembered for that."

"There's no shame in survival," said Nomura.

Draal grabbed an entire shelving unit of bottles and threw it into the acid, where the potions exploded with blue light. He fell back and began coughing.

"Draal?!" Toby cried.

"I'm alright, I'm – is that my voice? Is that my" – he coughed again – "voice?" The high squeak had gone back to its normal gravelly depth. Draal shook his head and helped Nomura shove a heavy crate into the acid.

Toby started coughing too. It was so hot and smoky …

The troll, the Changeling, and the human climbed onto a boulder that hadn't melted yet. The lava continued to rise. They balanced precariously. Draal and Nomura were both forced to duck as they got closer to the ceiling.

"I guess this is my last chance to eat these," Toby lamented, taking out a taco. Nomura's eyes widened. Toby had only taken a single bite when she snatched the food and the bag out of his hands and threw them into the gut-lava. "What –? No! Those were Diablo Maximus!"

"And if this doesn't work, you'll die with that taste in your mouth."

The acid level started to drop – spiraling like it was going down a drain. Draal wrapped his arms tight around his two smaller companions.

"The back door!" cried Toby. "It's open! I gotta text Jimbo!"

All three of them screamed as they surfed on the boulder through Gatto's volcanic intestines.

+=+

Blinky kept an eye on Jim as they climbed and ran and fought and climbed some more. It had taken until they were nearly halfway down Gatto's sides to convince Jim to flee instead of continuing to attack. Blinky was ready to physically pull the boy along if he tried it again.

This was awful. Horrible. And all Blinky's fault, besides. Coming to Gatto's Keep had been his suggestion, and it had cost three lives already, and if they died here as well, the Amulet would become another part of Gatto's collection, no good to anyone.

But there would be time for blame and grief and stewing over what else might have gone wrong once Jim and Blinky were out of there and no longer in mortal peril.

Gatto tried to grab them with his craggy hand. Jim roared and nearly deprived the mountain troll of a finger.

Gatto said something, but his head was too far away now for Blinky to make it out. It might have been 'nachos'?

Another taunt about how he intended to eat them, no doubt.

"No more guards?" said Jim. They were off the scaffolding now, and it looked like a straight shot to the Gyre station.

The ground started to crack and rumble ominously. There were spurts of lava, and a smell Blinky hadn't expected but regretfully recognized. They ran faster.

Someone screamed behind them.

"Start it up! Start it up! START IT UP!"

"Toby!" Jim yelled.

Tobias, Nomura, and Draal erupted out of a rock wall nearby. They all cried out when they crash landed, and then ran for the Gyre just as Blinky and Jim were doing. Draal grabbed the Gyre's outer wheel and, with a bellow, set it spinning to jumpstart the vehicle. They piled in, and zoomed away.

It was a miraculous escape. Blinky would have to record this for the history books.

"I am – so sorry," he said to them all. Even at the Gyre's speed, it would take some time to get to Arcadia from Ojos del Salado. "If I had realized the nature of Gatto's Keep, I never would have brought us there."

"He did have the Birthstone," said Nomura. Blinky turned just enough to see her with his outermost eye. She seemed unscathed, and was still wearing a hat. Her bag was now bulging with whatever else she'd … claimed as recompense for the trauma of today's experience.

Blinky turned the other way to check as best he could on Jim and Toby. Draal was in the centre of the Gyre bench and hardest to see without turning around, though Blinky could at least tell he was there.

Jim was wrapped around Toby. His helmet was open again, and his eyes were glowing. Toby was clinging to Jim as well, and breathing hard.

"I saved us," Tobias bragged. "My tacos were the key to our grand escape." Jim tightened his grip.

He didn't let go of Toby until they reached Trollmarket. AAARRRGGHH was waiting for them at the Gyre station. (And oh, that made Blinky's gut twist, to think AAARRRGGHH had been sitting there awaiting their return and they might not have come back because Blinky had led them into danger.) AAARRRGGHH reached into the basket to help Toby and Jim disembark.

Jim let go of Tobias and swiped at AAARRRGGHH with Daylight.

AAARRRGGHH recoiled, unhurt physically – Blinky had seen the distance between his hand and the sword – but wounded all the same.

"Jim?" said Toby. "Dude, calm down."

"Red eyes," said AAARRRGGHH. Jim's eyes were still glowing. "Hurt?"

Draal, who had been climbing down the other side of the Gyre, grunted and lost his balance. When he got up, Blinky finally got a proper look at him.

"Great Gronka Morka, Draal, what's happened to your arm?!"

His right arm was half grey, with pits starting to form where the dead stone had cracked, and the patches that were still blue were far glossier than was natural, like he'd spent a month buffing and polishing his hide.

"Gut-lava," said Draal. His eyes were out of focus. "And straining. And that fall, just now."

"He used his arms to shield us while we were – getting out," said Toby, giving a sideways look to Jim before finishing that sentence. "And he landed badly coming in."

"Need Vendel," AAARRRGGHH decided. He offered his open hand to Jim and Toby again. Jim growled and readied his sword.

"You two take him," Nomura said. "Jim can't go through the market with his eyes like that, and he's not going to calm down until he stops thinking he has to protect his human from another troll any second."

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH looked at each other. Blinky split his focus to look at AAARRRGGHH, Jim, and Draal at the same time. AAARRRGGHH looked from Blinky, to Jim, to Draal, then back to Blinky, and nodded.

AAARRRGGHH moved to stand on Draal's injured side. Blinky climbed out of the Gyre – Jim turned the sword towards him for the moment it took to get to the steps, moving closer to the human and Changeling than he'd been whilst at the controls – and stood at Draal's other side.

He was loath to leave, but Draal needed medical attention, and Nomura was right that proximity to larger trolls seem to be increasing Jim's distress.

Blinky turned an eye back to Nomura.

"What about you?"

"I'll stand guard and make sure no one else walks in on this." She sat on the floor and opened the bag she'd been carrying. "I can get started on cataloguing while I wait."

"And will you be alright, Tobias?" Blinky asked.

"I think so?" The boy looked at Jim uncertainly. "Dude, it's Blinky and AAARRRGGHH. They're not gonna hurt us. Shouldn't it be my turn to be freaking out right now?"

+=+

"I'm sorry," said Vendel to Draal, as gently as the brusque elder was able. "The damage is … severe. I suspect your arm cannot be saved. I advise that we amputate, to keep the cracks from spreading higher, so your shoulder can be fitted with a prosthetic."

Draal grimaced. He stared at his cracked, pitted arm and flexed his fingers with a wince. A few more chips came loose. He touched one of the worst with his uninjured hand.

For the examination, the leather strip that usually wrapped around his right wrist was removed, showing the scarred crack that extended onto his hand. Vendel remembered treating that wound – he'd been worried Draal would lose his hand then as well.

"What if we used metal packing?" asked Draal.

"You lost some mobility in your wrist last time," Vendel reminded him. "If we tried that now, with your more extensive injuries, the amount of metal necessary and immobilization while you healed would likely lock the joints in place for good. And we would need to clear out the dead stone before we begin. Depending on the depth of damage," which was already and obviously deep, "your arm might come off in any case."

"… Can I have some time to think about it?"

In a sense, no, because the longer he went without treatment (beyond the painkillers Vendel had already given him), the worse his injuries would get, and the more likely it was the decision would be made for him.

"If you can remain still while you decide, I can give you a few hours."

"Thank you."

Vendel was not a prayerful troll, but he prayed he wasn't just giving Draal false hope.

+=+

"Hey, your eyes are blue again!" Toby cheered. "That's a good sign, right?"

"Maybe."

"And you're using words!" He patted Jim on the shoulder. "Think maybe we can get off the Gyre now?"

Jim looked at Nomura, still sitting on the station floor in troll form with her stolen treasures spread around her, and shook his head.

Early on in her sorting process, she'd propped up one of her treasures next to the Gyre – a trident with a red gem set on a ring below the fork. The red gem had started glowing when she'd turned the ring and seemed to be sucking all the heat from the room, which was an incredible relief for Toby's overheated skin.

"Dude, come on. I thought she was, like, your friend?"

Nomura laughed. "Oh, we go way back."

"… I can't tell if that was sarcasm or not."

"It wasn't," said Jim.

"So why is she scary to you?"

"Excuse me, are you not intimidated by me?" she asked, casually running her finger along the length of one of her cool swords. Which seemed like kind of the opposite of helping Jim calm down.

"You helped us," Toby reminded her.

"And we're all richer for it," she agreed.

Seriously, was she being sarcastic or not? Or, maybe not sarcastic, but … teasing? Was that it?

"You got eaten," said Jim, as though Toby could possibly have forgotten this. "By a troll. You getting eaten by a troll is literally one of my worst nightmares. I can't … I can't let you be in Trollmarket right now. There's too many trolls I don't know. I probably shouldn't fight them all, but I'm going to want to."

Toby sighed and turned back to his phone. He loved Go-Go Sushi, but there were only so many times he could play it in a day.

Oh, hey, wait, phones.

"Here, you should take your phone back." He put it as far down the Gyre's foldaway steps as he could reach without getting off the boat and having Jim grab him again. Nomura waited until he was back in the boat before standing to get it.

"Why do you have Nomura's phone?"

"From when we texted you we were alive. She's got an international plan and I don't."

"I didn't notice the text come in," Jim admitted.

"That's fair. You would've been pretty distracted."

+=+

Draal didn't want to lose his arm.

He had no regrets about what he'd done – if he hadn't been there, Nomura or Tobias would have been the ones hurt, or might even have fallen off the boulder and died – but he would rather have been able to save them without ending up in this position.

Draal liked his body. He liked his arms. He liked his strength and agility, and his reach, and how easy most weapons were to use, and how easy it was to switch between going on two legs, all fours, or a roll.

Whatever happened now would change that. Patch job or prosthetic, he'd have to restart his training to compensate for the change in balance. He wouldn't have the same reach or flexibility anymore. His grip on two-handed weapons would change.

It would have been easier, in a way, if he'd been hurt badly enough for the arm to come off on its own. Then at least he wouldn't have to decide whether to have what was left of it cut off, or to try and salvage it and risk seeing it crumble away in any case.

He wished his mother still lived in Trollmarket. Ballustra was a weaponsmith, but she had done prosthetic work as well, and helped with injuries that needed metal packing. He trusted Vendel to give him good advice, but … Draal wanted his mother.

(She'd gone back to the Old World a few centuries ago, after she and Kanjigar had divorced. Draal hadn't actually seen her in person for almost twenty years now. He hadn't realized how much he missed her until he started thinking about her.)

He sighed heavily. The movement of his chest caused his arm to move on the table. A few more pieces flaked off. Had they been already broken and sitting there, or had they just broken away? Was it his imagination, or did some of the cracks just get a little bit longer?

With the depth and spread of the fissures, metal packing would noticeably increase the weight of his arm. Draal would be fit to return to the field far sooner if he accepted a prosthetic, which could be graded to a compatible weight. He'd have use of two hands again more quickly, too.

Draal's blue hide had been nearly seared off in some places, exposing the veins of purplish crystal underneath. He couldn't stop himself from rubbing some of it. So smooth; a bit itchy at the edges.

Vendel had not simply left him alone. The Elder was looking through his supplies, giving Draal an illusion of privacy while keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't aggravate his wounds.

"Vendel. If … If we try to save it. What are the odds it'll work?"

"Very low, I'm afraid. We can keep it attached, if that's your wish, but it would likely not be functional."

"Meaning?"

"In the worst case scenario, it would be like an immobile prosthesis with bits of your living stone embedded in it. In the best case, you would recover about half the mobility you had before."

Draal grimaced. He studied what was left of his arm again. Gorgus, some of the pits were so deep they nearly went halfway through.

"Cut it off."

+=+

"Then we all reached the Gyre, and Draal worsened his injuries to start the mechanism."

They were waiting outside the Gyre station. Blinky had just finished reciting the day's events to AAARRRGGHH.

"This is my doing. I knew Gatto held a place on the Tribunal, but never even thought to ask Vendel's assessment of his character. So now Jim is terrified of us all, Tobias is probably also mentally scarred, and Draal is grievously injured for my failure as a researcher."

AAARRRGGHH, always a troll of few words, had no words that could make Blinky feel less responsible for what had happened. He tried anyway.

"Attacking was Gatto's choice, not Blinky's."

"He didn't attack us, AAARRRGGHH! He made his terms clear, and I knew better than to accept but I did anyway, and now –" He flailed his arms. "I can only be thankful Jim didn't actually hurt you, and no one actually died."

"I'm sorry about that."

They both jumped, and turned to see Jim and Toby. Jim's helmet was sealed, and he was between them and Toby, but he was unarmed.

"I shouldn't have agreed to the riddle game either," said Jim. "That was a stupid gamble. I should've just stabbed him in the face the second he started talking about eating us."

"I feel like that's not the lesson we should take from this, but at the same time I can't argue," said Toby.

"I wanted to say, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let my fears get the better of me when I – I trust you. I know you would never."

"Forgiven," AAARRRGGHH assured him at once.

Blinky looked passed the boys, into the Gyre station. It stood empty.

"Where has Nomura gone?" And how had he not noticed her leaving? She would have had to go right past them.

"She wanted to see Draal before we left," said Jim.

+=+

"Hey," said Nomura.

"Hey." Draal lifted his new prosthetic hand in greeting. It made a faint clanking sound.

"… I came to show off all the stuff I took," she claimed, rather than admit she'd been concerned and wanted to check on him. Draal leaned forward.

"Show me."

+=+

Previous Chapter (Otto keeps unintentionally sabotaging his own coup.)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (As though Draal hasn’t been through enough, he turns human.)

This was the longest chapter yet! Helped along by how I had a few hundred words already prepped from the early days of fic writing, back when I thought they would be doing to search for the Triumbric Stones in canonical order and Blinky was still going to be the troll who turned human. How far we've come, eh?

There are two non-Tales of Arcadia cartoon references in this chapter, one to a show and one to a movie. Spot them for imaginary prizes! I'll reveal them in the notes for the next chapter.

I do not know what regular lava would do to a troll, but since Gatto digests that poor unfortunate troll in his introductory episode (seen sinking into the gut-lava when Toby and Blinky arrive in the stomach), I assume that particular type of lava can mess stone-flesh up. The term 'gut-lava' was used in one of the spinoff comics.

Out of curiosity, I looked up 'Ojos del Salado', which is a real place. Some fun facts: It is the highest active volcano in the world, and the second-highest mountain in both the Western Hemisphere and the Southern Hemisphere. It's actually on the Argentina-Chile border, and the mountain has two summits, one in each country. There is a crater lake on the eastern side that is believed to be the highest lake in the world.

Draal's mom Ballustra was named in the spinoff novels. I have not yet decided how much of the novels' depiction I will use, beyond the name and the job and the bit about her and Kanjigar being divorced. Or separated? The novel does not actually use the word 'divorced', but it does say they were married when Draal was born, and heavily implies they were not married anymore by the time Kanjigar died without providing a word for how the end of a marriage is described in troll society.

[prose-for-hire]

Natural Attraction

Part One // Part Three

Pairing: Angel x vamp!reader

Request: Not really requested. I wanted to do a second part to ‘So wrong it’s right’. Angel and the reader are forced to work together - will the tension lift or just get harder to bear?

Warning: Sex references. Nudity that is not described. Violence. Blood mention. Swearing.

A/N: I adore writing a plot, can you tell? I could probably keep writing this one for several parts but I think I’m leaving it at this for now 💖🖤

Ever since you and Angel shared that kiss, he had been avoiding you. You had ignited his world, left it simultaneously crumbling and revived. You made him question himself. His goodness. You made him hate you. Need you. There was so much spinning around his head. You made him dizzy.

He had been avoiding you again since that night. It had been a week and no word from him. Not even a punch was thrown your way. You felt disappointed, lacking. His presence made you feel more alive.

The object that you had taken from what had been LA’s answer to the demon mob had been a bracelet. It appeared like one half of a handcuff and could be attached and removed in a similar way. It was encrusted jewels that held ancient and priceless magic. Power.

In the wrong hands, this could allow demons to own the earth. Live above ground. Vampires could embrace the day. Demons could control the laws of the land.

But you didn’t care in the slightest for this. The real reason you had wanted it was for vain purposes. It was pretty and you had deserved something nice after scraping a living for so many centuries. You had finally saved up enough.

You admired it, slipping your sleeve over it before you left for the evening. You assumed one day that you would have to pawn it so you wore it at any given opportunity. Even if it didn’t match your lifestyle or your outfit.

You savoured the metallic feeling of it against your skin. Of the power it held, that you held by wearing it but not giving it permission to have.

But this powerful feeling wasn’t destined to last. You were jumped. Taken off-guard and slammed to the ground. The weapon they used curled around your skin, slicing into it. While you were distracted by the pain, they took your bracelet off your wrist. They had been too fast for you.

“Oh, I’m gonna kill you” You muttered, trying to haul yourself up.

“I’m dead... and soon the rest of the world will be” he cackled.

“You- what?!” You rolled your eyes, God you despised caricature-like villains, “Come on, man, get a life! Taking over the world is so last century!” You said getting to your feet. But before you could react you got punched in the face, sending you flying back into a brick wall. Your head cracking painfully against the brick. It knocked you out.

When you finally came to, the sun was threatening to rise. You had to scramble to an abandoned building waiting out the day. You spent the entire day thinking. Cursing what was going to have to happen. You would have to ask him for help. Ask him to save the world. By your side.

God, it sickened you. To even dance near the light. To be seen as good by association.

You entered the hotel like you wanted to be there. Skipping into the various rooms looking for a sign of life, or at least living dead.

“Angel?” You called, “Aaangel” You cooed, your voice sing-songing through the halls of the hotel.

“He’s not here and I suggest you leave” Wesley appeared as if from nowhere. It almost made even you jump.

“Hey, Wes! How’s that Sumerian going? Remember: it’s all in the vowels”

“Stop it. Actions have consequences, Y/n. He told us what you did”

“Yeah, I mean it kind of takes two, right?” You winked but he just stared. Hard. He was usually pleasant with you despite your reputation. You had seen him as a kind of friend. The only one you had, mortal or otherwise.

So, your dead heart sunk further down your chest at his tone. Which made you hurt. Which in turn, made you threatening. You stepped towards him, staring him down.

He whipped out a cross but you took it from his hand, grasping it tight despite the pain and arching an eyebrow at him before you threw it behind you.

“You attempted to use the Jewel of Latrop on him and now you wish to-” Wesley began, showing you that Angel knew exactly why you had been there in the first place. It was going to make it harder to convince everyone that you came in peace.

“What? No I- we just kissed” You shrugged. Of course he had told them you were evil. He wanted them to kill you because he wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.

Maybe this information was good information. You could use this. See if you could find a way to get him onside. Or, at least, back with his lips on yours.

You explained. Giving a mostly honest account and luckily, Wesley believed you. Saw you as sincere. You had a reputation but you had allowed Wesley to see your other side. The one that enjoyed reading to pass your eternity. Could speak several languages and weirdly enjoyed assisting and teaching others.

I mean, it pissed you off when they couldn’t understand your simple explanations, but when they really did learn something you had this weird pride that rose in your otherwise dead chest.

Wes saw this and chose, despite the real threat you could pose, to see the good in you. He invited you into an office that you knew had been Angel’s. But now, somehow it was Wesley’s. Apparently there had been a reshuffle, with Wesley taking the lead on the cases.

After a while where you and Wesley sat and shared notes on a text you had both been reading, the rest of the team arrived. Wesley introduced you to those you hadn’t met before.

Then he walked in. Face like thunder, tone hardened at your presence.

“What’re they doing here?” He all but growled.

“Turns out, angel you misunderstood the situation. It’s imperative we work with our friend to regain-” Wesley spoke in your favour, he did make the decisions around here now after all.

“They don’t have a soul” Angel argued thickly.

“I have a conscience, will that do for now? I don’t like it either, but this directly affects me so-”

“See? Selfish. Willing to turn on us all for a cheap buck”

“A cheap fu-?” You teased devilishly but he cut you off.

“Buck” He corrected over your words making you roll your eyes.

“You’re just sour that you don’t get me all to yourself aren’t you? Don’t worry, sweet Angel, we can pick up where we left-” He cut you off in his favourite way. Grabbing you and slamming you against something hard. The rest of the team intake a sharp collective breath. They had never seen him this dangerous in the flesh. They watched as both of you held each other’s gaze, “Here? Now?” You teased your tone suggesting mock-scandal.

He shoved you again and Wesley tried to intervene without success. Your eyes were locked on each other, neither of you backing down until you spoke up again, “I’d say ow, but you’re not pinching hard enough” you smiled wide at the way his eyes flickered at your words. You stared at each other for what felt like an age. The demon within both of you calling to the other.

But he remembered where he was and how he was trying to make amends with the team so he let go. Almost too quickly as he rubbed the back of his neck and stepped back. As far away from you in the room as he could.

It was dangerous for him to be around you. You brought something out in him, almost primal. You annoyed him and you made him feel something… else. He couldn’t quite figure what it was but he didn’t like it.

“Do you still have the manual that it came with?”

“Manual?” You asked before realising, “Oh, big dusty book – looked a little too much like a Bible to me, so I, uh used gloves and trashed it”

Wesley glared, the manual would give you ways to locate it. Plus, information on how it can be used and possible prophecies attached. You were intelligent, but you weren’t intending to use the bracelet for anything other than a brag-able accessory. 

You told them where you got rid of it and Wesley asked the others, except Angel, to try and find it. Some to the landfill and others to the area you left it.

“I need to change, can I?” You asked before you were assigned your cape and brightly coloured tights. Your clothes were ripped and hanging off you. You had been cut up in the mugging. Wesley nodded, directing you to a kind of lost property room where you could freshen up and change.

You had stripped yourself of the clothes. Some were hard to remove as dried blood had stuck the fabric to your wounds. You hissed but managed to free yourself.

You were walking around, looking through drawers and the pile in the corner. Most of it smelled musty, but beggars couldn’t be choosers so you tried to select some of the more wearable items.

After a moment as you were still deciding, a knock came at the door and someone entered.

“Oh, um, you’re-” Wesley’s eyes widened as you turned apparently unbothered that you were lacking clothes.

“Yeah?”

“Naked”

“Half” You shrugged, then remembered that this man was human. His eyes drawing to places usually hidden. “Oh, right. I don’t mind if you don’t”

The man was speechless, but not complaining in the slightest. You were comfortable with who you were. Your body, in either form. Which frustrated angel to no end.

Oh and speak of the pretty, ensouled devil…

“Wes. We need to talk about-” He cut himself off, taking in your very naked form, “Y/n” He breathed. He shut up when he realised Wes was with you. Naked you. He stared at the man, almost burning holes through him for looking. A low, predatory growl rumbled in his chest. One that you only caught, and grinned at. Which made him scowl at you instead.

“Come on, you can speak freely. We’re all friends here” You encouraged as you turned to find something wearable from the pile.

“We can’t work with them – can’t trust them, you gotta know this you’re a smart guy” Angel complimented but at Wes’ unconvinced look he continued, “Look, they’re bad news. There’s no soul, or morality, it’s just pure demon”

“Angel, we know each other. We’re acquaintances” Wesley sighed as your smug smile grew. You were pleased Wesley still respected the friendship you felt.

“Wha-”

“And I’m not amoral. I don’t have a soul, you’re right. But a soul doesn’t automatically equate to morality. Humans, demons even vampires are faced with a string of choices with incalculable consequences” You pulled on some clothes as you spoke, the room’s attention on you, “Some choices are good, some very bad and others… well, they’re just choices. I want to stop this apocalypse. I want my bracelet. I choose that and if my reasoning is not to your taste, well, maybe we can find some other part of me that is…”

You finished your speech, your body now fully clothed as you arched an eyebrow at Angel to punctuate your suggestion. He just scowled and turned back to Wes, which almost made you pout.

“Come on, Wes. I mean, they’re basically Spike’s more immoral twin” He gestured towards you, not properly able to look at you. Less his voice dwindle into nothing. His demon half threatening to take over like it always did when his focus was on you. he was fighting this hold you appeared to have on him. Tooth and nail.

“Who?” You asked, “You’re telling me I have more competition than the pretty girl down the hall?”

He gritted his teeth, about to begin another delicious argument. Hopefully culminating in him taking your clothes back off you…

But then his little gang of merry men (and women) turned up looking a little worse for wear. They returned, explaining that they had found the manual. But lost a fight against your mugger. Meaning that the dark side now had the manual and the bracelet. Which now meant that they could release the demon underworld without the need for a Hellmouth.

Gunn had managed to follow them to some old seedy bar but wasn’t allowed through the door because he was human. You and Angel shared a look despite his previous statements. And then nodded an unspoken agreement despite his words. You would both go.

You took it in turns threatening the guy behind the bar for information. The heat rose in the air. He enjoyed watching the way you worked on the man. Pounded him. You were controlled in a way most vampires weren’t. Angel took over, pushing you to the side, balling up the man’s shirt and threatening him. 

He eventually gave up the information. The name of the demon. The reason why he needed the bracelet.

“Don’t you feel it in the air? It’s coming. The end” He finished, choking slightly on the blood running from his nose.

“Sure. Something’s in the air” You glanced at angel and gave him a smirk as he let go of the guy and just walked away. 

You caught up with him and walked back together. But something had changed. Angel’s face was set. At how much you had so visibly enjoyed hurting that man. At how he felt it too. But couldn’t move for the guilt of it.

“Well, lover, didn’t we make the perfect pair?” You sang these words, your swagger beside him made his face harden.

“You think this is love?” He swung around and glowered at you, “You can’t love”

“I feel. I touch. I fuck. Why can’t I love?” You questioned, turning to face where he had stopped on the sidewalk.

“You’re a demon. You- you’re sick”

“Yeah, well it takes one to-” He punched the words from you before they could form.

You laughed at this action, rubbing your jaw as he tensed his own. You just wouldn’t quit. It infuriated him.

It came down to his own guilt. As always. His own hatred of his nature mirrored onto you. And you were perceptive enough to name it. Making him close a fist to punch you again that you happily blocked as you continued telling him exactly why he hated you. Secretly envied you. Was incredibly attracted to you.

You read him like a book and he hated it. Hated how vulnerable you made him feel. He hated that you understood him. This part of him. This hatred he held for his demon side.

Instead of fighting, your words or your body, he just stalked off with you on his tail.

It had now been a few weeks since you had found out the information you had needed. You learnt all about the ritual. The one to open Hell on earth. A temporary Hellmouth using the bracelet and an old incantation. You managed to find a way to prevent it. Hatch a sort of plan. All you needed to do was figure out where and when.

You actually settled into the team well. You were human enough for the living ones and demon enough for the others. They found themselves becoming increasingly fond of you, despite their better judgement.

The tension between you and Angel was noticed. Discussed and dissected when they thought you couldn’t hear. You often could, even when you had both slipped away to relieve some of the tension you had built up. It had started early one morning, when the rest were sleeping and you and Angel couldn’t bare to prolonged eye contact any longer. It was drawn out and heated.

He tugged you aside and met his lips hotly with yours. Pressing you into walls. Shoving you against furniture. Walls cracking, furniture splintering. You gripped him desperately so hard you almost broke the skin.

The air began cracking with electricity. Instinctual rumbles of desire, like thunder. Neither of you were able to figure whose chest it was coming from. You were beginning to meld into one. This moment was like the beginning of a storm. Heat rising almost unbearably. Air thick with arousal. You could both taste it in the air. On the other’s tongues.

You carried on this way, for weeks. Hissing and writhing against each other. Swallowing the others moans. Rooms shaking. The scent of your mutual lust rolling off you in waves. Like a perfume.

You were often thrashing against the other in a fight for control. It became intense. It was sizzling and often quick. Stolen moments away from the others. An all-encompassing earthquake masquerading as a sordid and needed release.

Something had shifted between you. But these moments only fuelled your frustration. Your addiction to the other. It made you want more. Think of each other more. Crave the others body… mind.

You clung to every scrap of information you learnt about the other. Still not able to stop yourselves from trading insults. You found yourself enjoying being a part of this team. Being so close to him. For some reason, the most recent time after you had sex, the words slipped out.

“You know, I like it when you show this side of you” You whispered as you both put your clothes back on and started to get back to the others who were not fooled in the slightest by what you were doing.

“Yeah?” He asked, surprised how open you were being. But you just nodded, your thumb running across his ridged forehead that he had forgotten he was showing. It matched yours and this time, he didn’t pull away. He just stared. As if he was studying you.

You then broke apart quickly when Fred ran in, averting her gaze awkwardly and then having to look up to announce that they had finally located the demon that had your bracelet. Who was beginning to open a portal to the Hellmouth on the other side of the city.

It was easy to locate, considering the massive green portal that had opened up out of nowhere and the demon with the maniacal laugh that carried several blocks.

None of you wasted any time. Cordelia and Gunn took out the guards and Wesley and Fred began to set up their incantation to prevent any demons leaving the temporary Hellmouth.

You and Angel took on the main demon. The one that mugged you. When the guards went down, Gunn and Cordy joined you.

You all fought hard, calculating his moves ahead of your own. The ugly demon got the worst of your punches. Your fangs bared, ferocity evident to all. Your fists flew, legs kicking out mercilessly. People had to get out of your way, you had become indiscriminate.

Then, Gunn ran in wielding a sword and took the demon’s head clean off. You stopped, watching the portal close up. The demon who lost its head turned to a pile of purple goo, oozing down the sidewalk. The metal of the bracelet still solid and dropping to the floor.

You caught it with a smirk, watching as the puddle of goo began to drip down the drain. You snapped it back onto your wrist. You shrugged, ready to leave them and get back to your life.

Everyone paused for a moment, before taking a collective breath. Then their focus turned to you.

“Y/n? We can’t let you leave with that”

“Now, I never said this should be destroyed – it’s mine. Won it fair and square in that fight” You explained but stopped to listen to them.

“It can’t be allowed to get back into the wrong hands” Wes reasoned with you.

“Wrong hands being yours” Angel added from beside you which made you raise an eyebrow.

“No. It’s mine, I waited a long time to save up for-”

“Hand it over” He urged, his hand waited palm up for you to give in. Your eyes waging a separate battle from your actions.

“Can’t do that” You snatched Angel’s hand and the bracelet magically cuffed you both together. It had properties you had hidden from the others, the manual wasn’t needed by you because you had already read up on it extensively.

What? You never claimed to be perfect.

You held a stake to his chest as you backed you both away. The others all looked, eyes wide. They had become almost fond of you. Forgetting the lack of soul. Wesley started to try to reason with you but Angel put a hand out to stop him as he moved back with you. Angel nodded at them to stand down, this was between the two of you.

You slid down an alleyway, the seedy kind that had been witness to many an entanglement like this one. You pushed him back against the wall the way he had so many times to you. Your lips pressing to his neck hungrily. Kisses sloppy with passion. He started to move his cuffed hand to reach for you but you pulled it back with your own. He groaned as you pressed further against him, friction almost making him wild. The way you always made him feel.

“Why did you do that?” He managed to mumble between your urgent kisses.

“Wanted a… little time away from those… prying eyes”

“There’s better ways to get me on my own” He muttered, but you could hear the smile in his voice as you leaned to press more enthusiastic kisses against his neck. His free hand moved so that he was grasping the base of your skull, strands of hair between his fingers.

“Not quite as fun though, right?” You mumbled, smiling back.

He chuckled and shook his head. You had both been waiting for this. You moved from his neck, kissing every so often along his jaw, the corner of his mouth. You notice that his face morphed into the demon. This time he wasn’t embarrassed to bare this to you. It felt natural. Kissing you felt natural.

He didn’t wait. Didn’t hesitate this time. He slammed his lips into yours again. Directing you toward his lips with a dangerous intensity.

The force behind this honest desire excited you more than anything. You kissed, fiery and urgent. It was a moment stolen in time. The adrenaline kicking you both into overdrive. Lips meeting lips. Skin meeting skin.

When you were both panting, from some transferred habit you only gained when you were both together you moved to look in his eyes. Proximity still intense as you smirked at his reaction to you. His need for you.

Then, just like that, the handcuff disappeared and he smiled. Shoving you off him, but it was more playful than it had ever been before. He was warming to you. He still didn’t enjoy admitting it, but it was there. More than evident to both of you now.

He began to walk away but you called out to him.

You rolled your eyes at yourself, uncuffing the bracelet from your wrist and throwing it to him. He caught it easily with both hands and looked down at the object. This action surprised him, but he wouldn’t allow it to show on his face.

Both of you were closer to the other than even you realised in this moment. In morality. In desire.

“Don’t tell anyone” You warned, “You owe me”

He smirked at this. The upturn of his mouth made your heart begin to beat. You swear it happened. Your chest vibrating suddenly.

“See you around, Y/n” He shook his head, warming to the idea of you with every step away he took.

“Tomorrow night?” You asked, your voice held that note of pleading you really wished you could have masked. He just laughed as he walked away, shaking his head and waving the bracelet as a form of goodbye.

You both knew you would be seeing each other as soon as physically possible. You smiled despite yourself, walking away in the opposite direction. This was going to be fun and you had the rest of your eternity to explore it.

[makeste]

the mortifying ordeal of being known... and rejected

or, how to create a self-fulfilling prophecy and get yourself stuck in a hole you’re too scared to try and pull yourself out of (by Bakugou Katsuki).

here is an observation: Bakugou often processes/hides/disguises fear...

uncertainty...

and even grief/guilt...

as anger.

the why, obviously, is because like most humans, he’s afraid of opening up and being vulnerable. but this post isn’t really about discussing the why. rather, it’s about the natural conclusion we can draw from this: that if the majority of Bakugou’s anger is in fact just his way of covering for his “weaker”, more vulnerable feelings, his doubts and fears, then that says a ton about Bakugou’s relationship with the one person he has always displayed the most hostility and aggression towards throughout his life.

so let’s talk about Bakugou’s actual feelings towards Deku.

disclaimer: I am not a therapist, or someone with any kind of psychology expertise; I am just a person that likes to read manga and think too much about fictional characters. so please keep in mind that even though I might not preface every single sentence here with “I think...” or “in my opinion...” obviously these are still just my guesses and interpretations and they may very well be wrong! the only one who knows for sure is the guy over in Japan drawing doodles of sentient flowers in his spare time, and I can’t very well ask him, so for now this will have to do.

so Katsuki and Izuku were childhood friends. let’s take this all the way back to the start. here we have two very young children who are introduced to each other at an age when they’re still young enough to have absolutely no secrets. they’re young enough to have not yet learned to be shy or self-conscious, or to downplay their enthusiasm so as not to let others know they care. kids that young don’t hide anything. they don’t lie or deceive. they don’t have agendas, and they assume that others don’t either. it is, in short, a very pure type of relationship in the sense that it’s honest and uncomplicated, that it is exactly what it appears to be at face value. their personalities are fully out there with no attempt at reining anything in. Katsuki witnesses the full force of Izuku’s boundless hero-worshipping energy and enthusiasm. Izuku witnesses the full extent of Katsuki’s relentless confidence and Peter Pan cockiness. both boys see each other for who they are in their entirety, and accept each other.

this is a fundamental bond. there is trust built between the two of them at a critical, formative age. it’s a relationship formed so early on that it’s likely that neither of them can actually recall a time before they met the other. they are and have always been a constant in each other’s lives. they’re a lot like siblings in terms of that kind of closeness and complete understanding of the other, both the good and the bad. in fact I’d say that Izuku’s use of “Kacchan” (and Katsuki’s automatic acceptance of it) isn’t that different from a younger brother’s use of “Niisan” for his older brother. it’s very revealing of the type of relationship they have. and that includes the typical sibling squabbles as well. it’s very much a relationship that’s taken for granted; there’s no filter, no effort to hold back, no attempt at trying to tone down their behavior around one another. there is whining and bragging and squabbling and name-calling and tears, just as much as there is cooperation and respect and trust. because at the end of the day, the assumption is that the relationship will endure no matter what, so they can go at each other as hard as they can and it doesn’t matter. the other one’s presence is just a given. that’s the kind of relationship that this term “childhood friends” really encapsulates, I think.

what I am trying to say here is that although it’s often viewed by fandom as an imbalanced relationship at best, and a toxic/broken one at worst, I think this is an incredibly important bond to the two of them. this is a relationship that has deep, irreplaceable value. the value lies in being known without having to suffer through the whole mortifying ordeal part. in the absolute, taken-for-granted surety that the other will always be there; in the constant, reassuring, and familiar presence; and in the security of knowing where they stand.

and what that in turn all means is that when four-year-old Bakugou Katsuki is struck by the thought that this relationship is being threatened, that the status quo may not always be quo, that the bond he’s come to rely on may have been built on a crumbling foundation, the emotional response which we are actually seeing here is not anger.

it’s fear.

this is the person who knows him better than anyone else does, and who, knowing all that, has always seemingly found something to admire in him. this is the person who’s always followed him no matter what. this is someone who looked up to him and believed in him, and whose belief and admiration perhaps more than anyone else’s filled him with pride and confidence. so the sudden fear, however ridiculous or unfounded (because at the end of the day he was just a preschooler, and that’s important to remember -- the fact that this fear, misplaced as it is, was based off of a scared four-year-old’s logic, and was incredibly real and overwhelming to said four-year-old), that Katsuki might lose this relationship -- or worse, the fear that the relationship was never real to begin with and was based on a lie and was unreciprocated and he was being strung along and laughed at behind his back the whole time -- is absolutely crushing to him.

because what he realizes in this moment is that in some ways, Izuku is already better than him at being a hero. and this realization, along with the fact that Izuku tries to help him and Katsuki misinterprets that as a gesture of pity or scorn, leads to a sudden cascade of other disastrous fears, including (1) the fear that Izuku is a sudden obstacle to his dream of becoming the number one hero, (2) fear that Izuku is looking down on him and not taking him seriously, and (3) fear that he won’t be able to catch up, because he doesn’t understand this mysterious quality that Izuku has, because that something isn’t physical strength, and that’s the only thing he’s ever considered up until now. and the one thing he does understand is that whatever it is (hint hint, it’s actually heart, and the determination to save and protect others), it’s something he himself lacks.

these are the fears which rise to the surface in this instant, and the fears which Katsuki is on some level at least aware of, and subsequently these are the fears which actually get confessed during Deku VS Kacchan Part 2 and are finally addressed. so all this is stuff we more or less already knew. 

but here’s another thought: I believe that this whole time, there was actually a fourth underlying fear which has actually been at the core of all those other fears from the beginning, and which has stayed with him this entire time, and which is such a profoundly upsetting thought to him that he refuses to consciously acknowledge it at all, and yet at the same time also reconstructs his entire personality around it. and that fear is simply this: that Izuku is going to leave him behind.

that’s it. he fears being left behind and discarded by the one person who has always been there. and yeah, okay, I do realize that this is a particular take that will probably have some people going, “uh, what” and gesturing towards THE ENTIRETY OF BAKUGOU’S BEHAVIOR TOWARD DEKU THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE SERIES and raising their eyebrows. and look, yeah, I get it. the fuck kind of fanficcy, melodramatic “deep down the two of them were closer than anything” take is this. “you’re telling me Katsuki’s absolutely reprehensible behavior toward Izuku for a full ten years of their lives had less to do with him being full of himself and hating on Izuku for being quirkless, and more to do with him being sad and fearful and upset over the thought of losing his closest friend?”

but... yeah. that’s exactly what I’m telling you. because for starters, his reaction is about 50 times too over-the-top for it to be anything else. but because also, his reaction to this one fear is so starkly different from the way we’ve seen him react to all of those other fears. usually, when Katsuki is faced with a challenge, he has a very specific response:

so why, then, would his reaction toward Izuku throwing down the gauntlet be any different? hell, we’ve seen how he reacts toward people that are stronger than him (Todoroki), and towards people he thinks aren’t taking him seriously (again, Todoroki), and it’s completely different from how he treated Izuku. his entire personality shifted from being cocky and confident and nearly always having a grin plastered on his face, to him being hostile and defensive and antisocial and almost never, ever smiling. in fact he doesn’t ever really seem be happy at all.

so yeah. this is my take. he fears being left behind. it’s not just that he fears losing to Izuku; it’s that he fears losing Izuku. because of course he does, because given the significance of that bond as explained above, that’s the natural thing to fear. the two of them have always been together. he’s never not had Izuku there. and so he might bitch about it and act like he doesn’t care about it, but in truth it’s because he fears the loss of it so much that he lashes out defensively -- no you can’t push me away, if you even try I’m going to push you away first so you can’t hurt me.

because that’s what it is, isn’t it? bullying Izuku every time he gets too close. telling him over and over again to stop following him, and to not try and get into UA. Izuku, from his perspective, is looking down on him, so at the end of the day it’s just easier for him to convince himself that he doesn’t even like Izuku, that he’s just someone who’s in his way, and that Izuku isn’t the one leaving him behind, fuck that, he’s the one who’s going to leave Izuku behind. that it’s his choice. it just hurts less. fear as anger, because anger is just easier to deal with; anger gets you fired up and helps motivate you; and anger doesn’t leave you feeling as hollow inside. or at least it can help distract you from that feeling.

so. this is all pretty goddamn miserable, all things considered. and so it goes for the next decade of their lives. except Izuku never does go away. and then one day he goes and saves his life, and from there on out we basically know the rest.

fast forward to the present! or I guess technically three months ago, since as of chapter 257 the present is now Late March/DAWN OF THE FINAL DAY (24 HOURS REMAIN), apparently, and what I actually want to talk about now is the internship, and its impact on their relationship as seen since then.

I’ve already talked about the internship’s general impact on Katsuki in a previous essay, so I won’t really get into it at length again here, but basically the short version is that I think (or am at least hoping) that over the course of this whole thing, Katsuki finally started to broaden his perspective to be a little less self-focused. and as a result of that, I think that seeing Endeavor’s broken relationship with his family, and in particular watching Endeavor apologize to Natsuo and tell him “you don’t need to forgive me” (and Natsu being all WELL YEAH, I WASN’T GONNA) was kind of a much-needed kick in the pants for him as far as making him realize that his relationship with Deku, newly renovated and given a fresh coat of paint after the whole Ground Beta fight, and finally starting to look a bit like its old self again after all this time... maybe isn’t actually quite as sound as he thought it was.

and isn’t that a fun thought. because here they were finally starting to fix that shit after all this fucking time. after a decade of constantly worrying about Izuku surpassing him and passing him on by, he finally realized that this fear was unfounded the whole time... only to subsequently realize that there’s another reason now why that relationship might still be in jeopardy. that being the small fact that, oh right, Katsuki has been a straight up dick to him for the past ten years. oh shit.

this is something he never once thought about before. because previously he was too blinded by his own fears, and his conviction that he was the one being looked down on, and that Izuku was the one who instigated everything. and then once he finally realized he’d gotten it wrong, I think there was a delay before it finally hit him just how much hurt and harm he actually caused, simply because he’s not used to examining things from anyone else’s perspective other than his own. and then there’s also the fact that this entire time, Izuku has never once really shown any kind of lingering bitterness or hostility toward him in spite of everything. in fact he’s been seemingly overjoyed to finally have that friendship rekindled again, and he’s been more admiring toward Katsuki than ever.

in short, I’m pretty sure that up until very recently, Katsuki has just sort of been taking Izuku’s forgiveness for granted. just assuming that he already had been forgiven, even though yeah, okay, he was pretty bad. he just had no reason to think otherwise, because Izuku’s personality is so kind and accepting and understanding that he never even showed a hint of harboring any kind of bad feelings toward him over it. not to mention that all of the really bad stuff happened so long ago -- going on two years now! -- and Izuku has never once said anything about it! and so Katsuki, being the dumbass he is (and also subconsciously wanting to avoid the guilt, no doubt, because hoo boy, that is not a pleasant emotion at all), just sort of assumed that it was all right. that they were past it.

but... is that actually true? are they, really? or is he just telling himself that because it’s what he wants to think? after all, he did recently learn that he interpreted every single one of Izuku’s actions pretty much 100% wrong for about a dozen years. so fair to say he might not be so good at reading him. and, well... what he did to him was really bad. he was really fucking awful. regardless of how generous and kindhearted Izuku might be, Katsuki really has no right to just expect forgiveness, actually. he has no idea what kind of feelings are actually lurking there beneath that freckly surface. just look at all the resentment Endeavor’s kids have bottled up toward him for what he did. and maybe Izuku is only trying so hard to get along with him now because of what All Might said, about how the two of them are supposed to try and learn from each other. and isn’t it possible, and maybe even likely, that deep down he actually hates him as much as Natsuo hates Endeavor?

so there’s the bitter irony: Katsuki spent a dozen years believing that Izuku spited him, and trying his best to push him away so as not to feel the hurt of being spited, only to finally realize that the enmity between them was all in his head, and that in truth, he was the one driving the wedge in between them and chipping away at the cracks the entire time. that in reality he was the one doing the damage. that the thing he was so afraid of was never actually a real possibility until he brought it into existence, but that it does exist, now -- the possibility that their bond really might have been destroyed. and that it’s entirely his fault. that he created his own demons and dragged them into the light.

so now he’s afraid all over again, except that this time, he has absolutely no idea what to do. if he tries to push Izuku away again, he’ll only bring about the worst-case possible outcome that much faster. not to mention that he already played that song for more than a decade, and if there’s one thing it taught him, it’s that he hates that tune almost as much as the alternative.

so then what he should do, clearly, is apologize. that’s the right thing, obviously. the heroic thing. and I don’t think he’s incapable of moving past his pride in order to do it. and on top of that, I think he probably wants to apologize because he actually is sorry! but I do think there is something else that’s currently holding him back. and that something, once again, is fear.

Katsuki is normally one to face his fears head on. in fact, I’ve previously gone on record as saying that he would apologize without hesitation once he realized how badly he fucked up, because he’s not one to shy away from accepting responsibility no matter what the consequences. but now, though, I think that I was wrong. it’s not that he doesn’t want to take responsibility, or that he doesn’t think an apology is owed. rather, I think I underestimated just how great this one, last, biggest fear of his is. the fear of that possible rejection. the idea that Izuku might not accept. that he might say no. that it might simply be too little, too late.

it’s the one thing Katsuki has never been able to face. the fear that started this all to begin with. it’s the one fear that has shaped him since his childhood, and the one fear that he stands frozen and powerless against. the fear of having the one person who’s always admired him no matter what revealing that in truth, he doesn’t. the fear of having all his deepest doubts and fears confirmed. if he isn’t seen as redeemable or worthy to Izuku, who knows him best, who’s seen him at both his highest and lowest and understands him to a degree which one else does, not All Might (whose approval, by the way, also runs through Deku and which he also stands to lose) or his parents or teachers or his other friends... if he’s seen as beyond forgiveness by him, then that’s a blow he can’t recover from.

so now he’s stuck here in this precarious position with Izuku where he doesn’t want to take a step backwards again, but is too afraid to try and move forward. which brings us to the current chapter, where for the time being it seems like he’s decided to simply embrace the status quo, which in his mind is “rivals.”

so he’s leaning hard into that now, and simply pretending like things between him and Izuku have already been fixed, without actually taking the steps necessary to really move past it, because in the end it’s just easier. and I think that he will continue as is until that status quo either becomes too difficult or painful to maintain (i.e. the guilt becomes too much to bear), or until something happens to finally trigger a boost of courage in him, or a realization that he needs to stop being selfish and own up to his actions.

but eventually that will happen. and I think he knows that deep down. if nothing else, this is something that’s currently standing in the way of him becoming the number one. he has no right to ever call himself a hero if he can’t even muster up the courage to apologize, and to accept whatever consequences may come with that, just as Endeavor did, even if it potentially means being shut down and cast aside. he has no right to expect or demand anything else.

but at the end of the day, Katsuki is still only human, and still a young one at that. and he has only just gotten his friend back. and I can tell you right now that Izuku is not the only one who feels relief and even gratitude at being able to have a “normal-ish” conversation with the other after all this time, regardless of whether or not Katsuki might deny it. and really, there’s no rush. he’ll have to face it soon enough, and he knows.

but for now, this is nice.