#i might lose power

[lunar-wandering]

it is thunderinggggg

[narikill]

aughdhshfjjsjcjdjfjsbgsknfjs <- leshy in this art probably

[royalarchivist]

Pac: I don't know if you remember, we left Cell on an island with just a bullet and a revolver at his disposal and we fled. So, theoretically, we outsmarted* Cell and gave him what he deserved, understand? So, my headcanon, understand? You know? But the drawing was really cool.

[ *passar a perna – literally to deceive, but the direct translation is like a leg sweep, which is why Chat responds with "What leg?" ]

Pac: [Reading chat] What leg? Yeah, not the right one. Wait– not the right. Exactly. The left. Is it the left? Wait, which leg did I lose? [...] No, wait– the left, because my dominant leg is the right. So I will choose the left. [Reading chat] "You chose?" I like to think I had the power to choose.

—

Pac talks about Fuga Impossível lore and implies that Cell let him decide which leg he'd lose. 🔪

[ Full transcript / translation ↓ ]

—

Pac: Guys, it's not the other way around, in my headcanon– in my headcanon– you have to know how to respect my headcanon. In my headcanon– because, I don't know if you remember, we left Cell on an island with just a bullet and a revolver at his disposal and we fled. So, theoretically, we outsmarted* Cell and gave him what he deserved, understand? So, my headcanon, understand? You know? But the drawing was really cool.

[ *passar a perna – literally to deceive, but the direct translation is like a leg sweep, which is why Chat responds with "What leg?" ]

Pac: [Reading chat] What leg? Yeah, not the right one. Wait– not the right. Exactly. The left. Is it the left? Wait, which leg did I lose? Oh sht... [Long pause] I don't remember, man. Oh, I don't know guys, I don't know. Did I decide? Oh, man. None? I'm kidding–

Pac: Well, if I have to decide? The right? I don't know. Nobody knows, right? But this drawing was really cool, it was really cool. You choose one there and I choose the right one. No, wait– the left, because my dominant leg is the right. So I will choose the left. Because like, I'm thinking like this, look what came into my head: Which leg would go away? Wow, I thought "So, if I'm going to kick a ball, I'm going to shoot it with my right leg. If I didn't have a right leg, I wouldn't be able to shoot the ball properly. So I prefer the left." That was my line of thinking, you know? I don't know. It's a bad example, right? And that's it, right? [Reading chat] "You chose?" Yeah, I like to think I had the power to choose.

[sparring-spirals]

imogen fumbling shit is just eternally good fodder for memes, alright. and its at least partly BECAUSE of how powerful she is. someone tripping while using a nerf gun? funny. someone dramatically hoisting up an outfit matchin heavy death laser gun and then immediately tripping and landing on their face? phenom. sometimes she goes "GROVEL" and the enemies grovel and we all go "oooooh" and "aaaahhh" and sometimes she just gets fully ignored and gets so huffy and petulant and ineffectually burns a cantrip just to be petty about it. sometimes she smites her enemies into dust with one move and renders a tree in half after threatening and other times she fucking. falls down a flight of stairs and accidentally sets everything on fire. fires a gun at her own team. loses all her hair. turns blue. etc.

Imogen lifts a humongous sand squid into the sky with her mind powers. Imogen is also falling out of a sky ship and landing on the desert sand far below and just. lying there. while her friend plays the flute in the background. epic hot failgirls NEED the HEIGHT to FAIL FROM. u gotta swing and miss sometimes!!! AND you gotta be REAL petty about it when u miss!!!! fucking fantastic.

[fuctacles]

Eddie, begrudgingly: Dustin's older brother is kinda fine :/

I had a craving for best friend's older brother AU so I wrote some but it's not my forte I'm out of ideas so that might be it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Edit: jokes on me I guess [Part II] [Part III]

Eddie was about to knock on his freshman friend’s door when there was a loud commotion on the other side and the door opened by itself. A guy, probably around his age, nearly ran into him in his haste to leave the house. He startled, taking Eddie in. And then taking a double take, the way Eddie was used to people doing at the sight of him.

“Who are you?” the guy asked, scrunching his nose and not meeting Eddie’s eyes.

He felt his hackles rise, venom building in his throat and ready to spit. He wasn’t expecting this on a Saturday on his friend’s doorstep, but he guessed this was the kind of town where you just couldn’t wear your battle vest in peace anywhere. His upper lip twitched ready to form a snarl, when suddenly the guy's features softened, a spark of recognition lighting up his eyes.

“Wait. Let me guess. Eddie?”

Eddie faltered, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. He frowned.

“Yeah?”

The guy's face warmed up with a smile, and Eddie was not ready for that kind of emotional rollercoaster this early in the morning.

“Dustin’s stories do not do you justice,” he says for some reason, eyeing him again. Eddie wants to shrivel up and hide. What the fuck was happening. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side to invite him in. “I have to go to work, so you two be good, okay?” he says before waving a cheery goodbye and closing the door, disappearing just as abruptly as he showed up in front of Eddie. The inside of the house suddenly seemed dull.

Another ray of sunshine peeked from the kitchen, toothy grin and hazelnut curls.

“So you’ve met Steve!” Dustin grinned in place of a greeting.

Eddie gawked at him.

“That,” he pointed at the closed door. The sound of a car leaving the curb tickled his ears. “Was Steve?!”

“The adopted brother Steve? The Star Wars fan Steve? The badass older brother Steve?”

“Yes, all that,” Dustin nodded enthusiastically.

“I thought he was, like, 16!” Eddie flailed and it sounded like a petulant whine even to his ears. He winced.

Dustin frowned at him like he was being stupid. Eddie didn’t like that gaze, but unfortunately at this point, he was getting used to it. His younger friend leaned on the kitchen door frame watching Eddie toe off his shoes.

“He’s 19. What gave you that impression?”

Eddie frowned at his scuffed Reeboks. He nudged them with his toe to line up, looking for an answer.

“The adopted part, I think? He’s almost an adult, who adopts that old?”

He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as he said it. He looked up at Dustin, whose face twisted uncomfortably.

“Shit, sorry man. I didn’t mean-”

Dusting clicked his tongue impatiently, interrupting him.

“It’s fine. This is an unconventional arrangement,” he said in that way when you heard something repeatedly. “I can tell you more, but after we make that character sheet, okay?”

Eddie nodded, eager to abandon his social faux pas. The Henderson’s were an unconventional unit, and that’s what he loved about them, at least from the stories Dustin shared. The guy was a little freak, just like Eddie, so it checked out his family was just as unconventional. So was Eddie’s after all.

The parallels made him warm up inside, the familiar need to protect his younger friends flaring up.

“Deal,” he nodded, following his friend inside the kitchen, where notebooks and DnD manuals already littered the table.

A couple of hours, two coffees and an unsolved argument about the intricacies of multiclassing later, they decided to take a break and Eddie could finally feast his eyes on the family photos on display. He stood in front of the newest one standing front and centre on the mantle. Steve was smiling shyly to the camera while Claudia Henderson had her arms around his shoulders and Dustin was grinning wide from his other side, hair ruffled by the older boy's hand.

“How long he has been living here?”

Dustin’s head popped out of the kitchen where he was rummaging for snacks.

“About a year. Remember the Starcourt fire?”

“Yeah?” Eddie frowned, taken aback by the seemingly unrelated question.

“Well, he’s been there and-” the boy frowned, fully stepping into the living room and crossing his arms. “Shit, Mom says I shouldn’t be babbling it around. That it’s Steve's story to tell.”

Eddie hummed, cocking his head.

“Your mom is very smart.”

Dustin unwrapped his arms, clenching his hands together.

“I guess I could tell you I mean who are you gonna tell? You just-”

Eddie raised both his hands, stopping him.

“Dude, he interrupted with all the disapproval his drug dealing nonconformist self could muster. “She’s right and that would be breaking your brother’s trust.”

“Uh. Yeah,” Dustin gulped, looking adequately ashamed at proposing the idea. “You’re right., he nodded.

This lasted about half a second because nobody could stop Henderson from being an egocentric know-it-all and since he was wrong he was now going to overcompensate for it. Of that, Eddie could be sure.

“We can go to his workplace and you could ask him!”

Eddie raised his hands again.

“Hold your horses Henderson, we’re not harassing your brother at work.” The boy was actually pouting, the little shit. “I am not that determined to hear it. I’ll just catch him another time I visit.”

That was the wrong thing to say because he wasn’t planning on being a recurring guest initially. Or maybe it was the right thing to say since Dustin positively beamed at the implication.

Maybe it was because the kid’s presence has been a good influence on him as well.

Also, while the story of Steve’s adoption didn’t seem that interesting before, the idea of a mall fire being somehow involved raised questions that were now itching the back of Eddie’s tongue. He had to ask them at some point.

*

“There’s this guy,” Eddie starts one day during lunch break. 

“Oh-ho,” Gareth murmurs with disdain, the crumbs from his sandwich falling from his lips.

“Not like that,” Eddie glowered at him, slapping against his arm. Even though it was kinda like that. “He’s picking up Henderson after Hellfire today and if we run into him, I want you guys to be civil.”

“We’re always civil,” Jeff frowns at Eddie’s backhanded accusations.

“Yeah, especially when you guys are mooning after Mrs. Wheeler.”

The comment raised a wave of loud protests from his friends.

“I am just saying-”

“You’re just saying that guy is hot and we shouldn’t ogle him?” Gareth, the worst friend he has, raised his eyebrow.

“No, I’m just-”

“You calling dibs, Munson?” John the Traitor, the Backstabber, joined in. Johned in, if you will.

‘No!” Eddie protested, maybe a little too loud. A couple of heads turned but when they saw the ruckus was coming from the freaks table, they quickly lost interest. “He’s the worst. A hunk of jock with stupid hair but!” He rose a finger. “He’s Henderson’s family. And what do we do with family members in Hellfire?”

“Lure in.”

“Lull into a fake sense of security.”

“Cast charm person.”

“Exactly,” he smirked, pointing his finger at each of them in approval. “This case is no different.”

“It feels different,” Gareth murmured under his breath, earning himself another smack on the shoulder.

*

Eddie wrapped up the session and was giving out experience points to his players when a soft knock interrupted his counting. He frowned at the door.

“Speak ‘friend’ and enter!” he hollered to his sheep’s utter glee. He grinned at them.

Dead silence was all the response he got, so he assumed whatever normie was bugging them got discouraged. But then, Henderson was turning around in his seat, yelling at the door.

“It’s from Lord of the Rings! You know this one!”

There was a shuffle on the other side where apparently, Steve came already to pick up his brother.

“Oh! Um… Melon? Was that it?”

“You may enter!” Eddie commanded with a grin straining at his cheeks. Dustin was doing a good job educating his jock brother, apparently. 

The guy pushed the door open, taking in the table full of teenagers. He waved hesitantly.

“You guys finishing up?”

“I’m handing out points, we need just a few minutes,” Eddie waved his hand. “And it’s Mellon.”

Steve frowned.

“That’s what I said.”

“Sure you did,” Eddie cocked his head condescendingly, ignoring the eyes of Corroded Coffin members staring at him. “Now sit and wait,” he gratuitously offered, snapping his fingers and pointing at a nearby bench, like Henderson’s older brother was some kind of dog.

To his surprise, he nodded shortly and obeyed, sitting down and watching him expectantly. Eddie took it as his cue to proceed. He coughed to gather his sheep's attention and went back to his meticulous calculations.

*

“That didn’t look like Charm Person to me,” Gareth hissed as soon as the younger members of Hellfire had left.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, throwing him a look while he stuffed his campaign notes into his bag.

“You told us to be nice, but you ordered him around like he was one of the kids,” Jeff pointed out, arms crossing.

“I did not”

“You totally did.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up.

“What is this? Mutiny? Among my own kin? Ungrateful little herd I had nurtured on my own breast-”

He was interrupted by a cacophony of grossed out noises.

“Spare us the imagery, please.”

Eddie huffed indignantly, closing his bag.

“Then quit yapping. It was a singular lapse of judgement on my part,” he said with finality, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked off, hand raised in a goodbye, “Toodles, bitches.”

And he was gone.

Gareth sighed.

“Man, I love Eddie, but sometimes…” John cut himself off, shaking his head. 

“Yeah.”

*

Eddie’s been on the fence about it for some time now. But the time was ticking and he did say more than once that ‘86 was gonna be his year, so maybe it was time to pocket his ego and make some calls.

Some very, very humiliating calls.

Sighing deeply he imagined himself going to the woods and digging up a deep hole. There he imaginary buried his pride, made a fancy map to find it later, hopefully in time for his graduation, and finally dragged himself back home and in front of his phone. Next to it, he tacked on a list of numbers of all his newest sheepies in case of emergencies. Like Hellfire scheduling.

He sighed once more, slumping dramatically before dialling the first of the numbers. As he listened to the dial tone, he squared his shoulders, decided a more confident pose was in order. He was now a man of action, taking his fate in his own hands. His pride was buried deeply in the darkest corners of the forest and only a courageous-

“Har- Henderson residence, this is Steve speaking.”

Eddie’s mind went blank, completely thrown off. Who was he calling again? What for?

“Hello?”

“Is this how you pick up the phone? Did I get the wrong house? Is this the British Queen?”

“... Eddie? Is that you?”

Busted.

“What gave me away?”

“Ah, only the dramatic nonsensical ramblings.” Steve answered, amusement in his voice. 

“Thank you, I pride myself in those.” No pride! Pride is buried deep in the putrid soil of a forgotten battlefield! “But I’m here for the superior Henderson, please and thank you.” Ah yes, the Charm Person again. Somebody could think Eddie buried his Charisma along with the pride.

“Sorry, Claudia is at work right now.”

Eddie scrunched his nose, confused, the gleeful tilt to the voice in his ear irking him. Then he remembered the mom. A staple in most households.

“Har, har, Steven. The smart one.”

“Please never call him that to his face,” the man said with a resigned sigh.

“There wouldn’t be enough space in the room for both our egos if I did.”

Steve laughed then, softly and genuinely, before calling out for his younger brother.

After a loud rattle, Dustin’s lispy voice finally reached Eddie’s trailer.

“What's up?”  

The man braced himself for what he was about to request.

“I need your help with an assignment.”

*

The door opened before he could even knock. Again.

“I thought I told you not to inflate his ego.”

“No, you told me not to call him smart. It is merely a by-product of my desperate attempts at graduating,” Eddie shrugged matter-of-factly. “Besides, I don’t respond to the likes of you.” He punctuated his words by seizing the guy up before brushing past him inside the Henderson’s house.

“The likes of- Excuse me?!”

Eddie was skipping towards Dustin’s room.

“Hey big guy I’m here for my tutoring!” he announced himself, standing in the open door to his friend’s room, who quickly beckons him inside. Steve’s heavy steps follow and soon he’s the one standing in the door frame, arms crossed, while Eddie bounces on Dustin’s bed.

“What do you mean the likes of me?” he asks, almost pouting. 

“Mainstream,” offered Dustin, shuffling through stuff on his desk.

“Jocks,” added Eddie, still bouncing with glee, hair following up and down.

“Normies.”

“Pop listeners.”

“Mom friends.”

“Conformists.”

“Okay, I get it!” Steve threw his hands in the air, stopping the list that probably wouldn’t come to an end otherwise. “You’re the cool guys, have fun having your cool stuff,” he huffed angrily, grabbing the doorknob. Before he closed the door he threw one seething glance at Dustin. “Do not. Ask me for snacks,” he hissed before slamming the door shut.

Eddie flipped back on the bed, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Man, your brother is so easy to rile up,” he chuckled gleefully.

“Right?! He’s so bitchy,” Dusting turned around towards him, signature smile in place. Eddie hollered.

“He is!”

Alas, a slap of palms interrupted his delightful trashing around.

“I believe we have some physics to cover?”

Eddie groaned. Right. He didn’t come here to bother the older Henderson. Booo.

[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]

[chongoblog]

I can't believe my eyes, but I'm officially on a power ranking list for Super Monkey Ball: Banana Rumble WR's.

(For anyone curious, my records are in 1-4 Stop and Go, EX 1-1 Small Island, EX4-5 Emoticon, and 10-6 Snake Whip)

I think I'm officially a Monkey Ball speedrunner now. Words cannot describe how over it is for me

[lambmotifz]

sam can control dean emotionally by pleading & using submissive puppy dog eyes while dean has physical control over sam. you understand

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ive never liked powerless saiki aus because the entire conclusion of the series is him accepting his powers as being a part of him that he cant change so like.. in aus where the power remover works, half of his development is erased..

if he had been "powerless" for longer, we wouldve gotten to see him realize this himself and im genuinely sad that we didnt.. we got to see him realize that being powerless wasnt the change he wished it would be and that its something he cant change, but its literally over a two day long period and we miss out on sooo much potential development..

and then in aus where hes born powerless, people think he would have the exact personality and development that he THOUGHT he would if he got rid of/didnt have his powers, like NO ? "without powers he would be another satou-" NO he would be a shy, borderline flamboyant, weird, awkward, genius LOSER.

he would have a more normal relationship with his brother (still probably competitive but in a way more average sibling way and kusuke wouldnt have had the motivation to become so murderous) and he would probably be even more friendless but with less trauma.. he may or may not have ever befriended akechi at all, and the classroom incident wouldnt have happened.. even some of his current friends might not be around if not for coincidences due to his powers or direct involvement from his powers.. (nendo and kaido would for sure still be there though, but this only ensures the idea that he would be the biggest fcking loser ever)

he would still be saiki, but. his powers are a key part of him. he would be totally different without them, but NOT in the way he thinks he would..

[hamable]

Hhhh bnha 419… Deku has given this fight everything he has. What happens next is literally out of his hands.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

the one thing amiss from nsbu's concept and the general isekai/modern jumanji medias in general is the fact that in the original jumanji all that shit happened in the real life town. people died for real. we need to bring funny games (1997) to the tabletop scene

[problemswithbooks]

So, I recently watched Helluva Boss and as always I've been prusing the tags for it on tumblr to see what other people think about the story and characters.

Something that stuck out to me is when people say Striker is a hypocrite because he hates the Royals, puts down Blitz and Fizz for being with Royals, but he, himself, works for one. Also that his pitch he gave to Blitz about teaming up to take down Royals was all a lie.

Now, I'm not going to say he's not being a bit of a hypocrite, especially given how much he hates Royals. What I will say is that I understand why Striker wouldn't see it that way (besides the fact he has a seemingly desperate need to feel superior to other imps).

Striker wants to kill Royals--that is very clear. A huge hurtle to that goal is that they are immortal. The only thing that can kill them is Angelic Steel--something that is rare and expensive. Yes, Striker is supposedly a well known assassin, but it's doubtful he'd ever make enough money to afford Angelic Weapons without taking on extremely wealthy clients. The wealthiest would be those at the top.

We don't know if Striker has worked with Royals before. If we assume Stella was the first Royal he was hired by, that makes his choice to work with her make far more sense. Particularly when we take into account who her target is--her equally Royal husband.

Unless stated otherwise later, Stella must have provided Striker with his Angelic Weapons so he could kill Stolas. She doesn't just give him a single weapon, either. She gets him a sniper rifle, pistols, a knife and a rope so he can incapacitate Stolas and take his vast magic abilities away, rendering him helpless. On top of that, she is also paying him money.

Given Stella never brings up the fact he lost the sniper rifle, or demands he return the weapons she provides, this deal he's making, although hypocritical, is only a benefit for Striker. He's getting paid to kill someone he wants to anyway, and a new arsenal that gives him the capability to kill Royals afterward.

This is why I don't think his offer to Blitz was a lie. I think what he told Blitz is his long term goal/plan, and was simply offering Blitz to join him since he found Blitz to be somewhat equal to him after Blitz did so well in the harvest games. Once they killed Stolas, got Stella's money, they would turn around and start using those funds and weapons to kill more Royals.

The reason Striker doesn't see himself as on the same level as Blitz and Fizz with their relationships with Royals is because he sees himself as using Stella, where he perceives Blitz and Fizz as being used. It's true that Blitz gets similar benefits from his relationship with Stolas (if Striker even knows about Blitz using Stolas's spell book for his business, I can't recall) but given what Striker saw of their relationship, he would see Stolas using silly pet names despite Blitz disliking it and see that as Blitz debasing himself publicly for Stolas. Yes, Stella doesn't treat him with the upmost respect, but it's over the phone, without witnesses. Nor does he give her anything in return except a dead husband--someone he would have targeted anyway.

He sees Fizz as even worse because, to him, it appears Fizz has given up his own autonomy to live a cushy lifestyle. Yes, Fizz gains many benefits from being with Ozzie, but Striker views it as letting Ozzie take advantage of him, to let Ozzie treat him like a pet (which some people do, do to some imps). He doesn't know Ozzie loves Fizz--franky I don't think he'd believe a Royal could love an imp at all anyway.

Yes, he may work for a Royal, and take her orders, but he does so to pilfer more and more Angelic Weapons from her as well as take her money, all of which I'm sure he tells himself he will later use against her and the rest of the upper class. It's a business transaction that he actually holds all the cards in. Unlike Blitz and Fizz he doesn't have to publicly debase himself to get the benefits he seeks. At least that's how he sees things.

[shiryawashere]

sorry I can't hang out today I've got thinking about Queen Maeve. Yeah it's gonna be all day. Yeah I'm thinking about Queen Maeve pinning me to the wall and lifting my chin up with the tip of her sword yeah. Oh she's drawing blood for sure. Absolutely threatening to shatter every bone in my feeble human body if I don't behave with that lopsided grin of hers yeah. Yeah you understand.

[velvetjune]

the chapter songs in Alan Wake 2,, flawless

[imminent-danger-came]

*sigh*. So. 3x03 right. "You rigged this table so that no matter what plate Monty was under, he would drop down from under it just as your contestant made their choice!" and how that works with the game motif in 4x10, "Ugh, again? Remind me how this 'game' is supposed to convince me I'm not destined to turn into an evil demon monkey thing again!? Cause every option I pick takes me to this same screen!" "Hey you're finally getting it! No matter what options it's giving you, you're always gonna end up in the same spot." And it's like, losing being inevitable, the game being rigged, the only option being to find a different choice, yet still "every choice has consequences—for someone." Overall I just kinda feel like this:

[human-sweater-vest]

okay so are we gonna talk about how fionna and cake's world is seattle? the library that simon and betty met at is a perfect dupe of suzzallo library on the university of washington seattle campus and the skyline of the city fionna is living in has the space needle in it. seattle lives rent free in simon's head.

this of course is then INCREDIBLY ICONIC that simon becomes ice king because the most common seattle social phenomenon is called "seattle freeze"

[itsmistyeyedbi]

bare your teeth, blunt as they may be

Pairing: F!Detective/F!Li-Sar and F!Detective/Adam du Mortain Word Count: 5,5k Warnings: Angst, Lots of sexual tension and descriptions of violence (but those are pretty tame, nothing graphic) Tags: @agentnatesewell @ava-du-mortain (you haven't asked but I know you've been waiting for this lol). Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fics! Authors Note: I am done at last! I rewrote and edited this thing so much, I just had to stop at some point. I haven't settled on how Li-Sar looks so there isn't a whole lot of detailed description on her appearance (or her outfit; I'm so sorry but I cannot write her in what she's wearing in the books and I couldn't decide on another one for her), but Zuri is still pretty descriptive of her if I do say so myself. Also on a03!

-

The forest floor tastes like ash. Dry against her cheek, dry as her throat. She lands face first on the cracks of a former cage.

Zuri coughs, palms against the barren forest floor, arms shaking as she pushes herself up. Only her upper body makes it off the ground. She can't muffle the groan that escapes her lips. There's too much aching. In her limbs from blocking attacks, in her torso for taking one too many. Her knuckles, the side of her face, bruised. Her bottom lip, stinging, probably busted. Blood trickles down her chin and leaves a tangy taste in her mouth. She blinks and blinks and blinks the blurry vision away.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. The air is tinged with her magic - the same magic buzzing through her and flaring out of her in sparks. She's getting closer. 

“Have I truly hurt you so, mortal?” She coos, her voice silky smooth from behind her. Zuri scrambles forward, trying to move her legs despite them feeling as heavy as cinder blocks. Li-Sar's tone shifts to something sharp with the promise of violence as she continues, “or is there another pathetic human being I need to rid this world of for you?”

Zuri slowly turns her head, eyes trailing up the length of her body before meeting her gaze and whimpering. Let her think it's over. Let her think she's done fighting-

Then kick. 

Her foot strikes her in the calf. Li-Sar grunts, leg buckling slightly only because of how often she's been kicked there. She locks her foot around her ankle and the same leg crumbles to the ground. Dirt flies into the air when Li-Sar's forearms meet the floor. She manages to hold her weight on one arm long enough to reach for her gun. Aims it at her and-

“Come now.”

A hand hits her wrist, bats it away. It flies out of reach, accompanied by a dry laugh that's soon muffled by the ringing of a stray gunshot. It's hard enough to put Zuri on her back.

Li-Sar's head is framed with trees from her position above her. She's straddling her, thighs on either side of her, an arm pressing tight against her neck while the other wrestles away the hand reaching and clawing for her face. It's eventually pinned to the ground.

The ringing in her ears and hard landing disorients her enough for any move she makes to be sloppy, but not enough to drown out her next words. “You know that won't work on me.”

Her clothes cling to her body, crackling with static and suddenly she's off the ground. In the air. The world spins. Her back slams against something rough and flaky - a tree - and she wheezes in Li-Sar's grasp.

She shakes her head and tuts as she looks over her. She loosens her grip on her blazer, moving one hand up to Zuri's face, cupping her jaw and moving her head this way and that in inspection. Zuri feels more than hears herself protesting, her lip stinging as she says…something and squeezes her eyes shut so she doesn't have to watch her surroundings spin and droop in front of her. 

Another coo. A thumb rubbing against her chin, blood smearing against her skin, het voice clear as the ringing fades away. “This isn't quite the mess I wanted to make of you, meor'dal.”

Zuri tries to focus on her breathing, ragged as it is, and opens her eyes to watch the trees that aren't obscured by the curls of her hair slowly come to a standstill. Anything but the sound of her voice or the feeling of her fingers on her skin. The way both imbed themselves into her mind.

“Listen, Li-Sar,” she rasps.

“Oh, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. Talk to me, I will listen to every word.” She brings her thumb to her mouth and sucks gently, her eyes flashing a bright white as she licks the blood off.

Her throat is still dry as she swallows and heat gathers in her cheeks. Why must she be so- God, this is ridiculous.

“You-” Zuri stammers, shying away from her gaze with an ahem before continuing. “It was stupid of them to come here and think they could take you on. Trappers are notorious for getting in over their heads.”

“So that's what those humans are? Trappers?” She scoffs. “A name fitting for those who foolishly throw themselves into a trap.”

“Right,” she meets her eyes again, watching carefully for a change in demeanour. She may not know what they're called, but she knew enough to draw them to her. Easy targets. 

“We just came to get them away from here, take them in and figure out a motive.”

She wants to believe that they didn't intend to actually try and capture her - a being so powerful that her prison was interdimensional purgatory. She really does. But maybe years of eating dirt while fighting agents made them lose brain cells. That, or whoever orders them around found out about Sin and got cocky, thinking that they too could have a powerful, centuries old supernatural do their bidding. Whatever it is, it's ridiculous. So much so that the Agency sent her and the rest of Unit Bravo here to protect them from her - neutralise them and prevent as many deaths as possible.

Mostly so they don't have to play clean up. At least, that's what Morgan thinks.

They arrived while the Trappers were still alive and breathing and following hare-brained orders. They were standing around Li-Sar in a loose circle; she was watching them with a smirk and playing with the electricity dancing around her fingers. Probably pleased that her practice dummies delivered themselves to her. They started advancing slowly - at least they had enough brain cells to be afraid - and all she did in response was chuckle. The calm before the storm. She could and would wipe them out in seconds.

Zuri entered the scene with her hands raised. The powers had settled enough for them to not instantly open fire on people, especially when she remains calm. So with deep, calculated breaths, she used them to appear placating and harmless as she talked Li-Sar out of engaging them.

They aren't worth it, they wouldn't even be able to put up a good fight.

What do you suggest I do then, mortal?

Let me and my friends handle them. We'll get them out of your hair. It'll be more entertaining if nothing else. You could also catch a glimpse of that potential you're so interested in.

You and the vampiir in the shadows are…friends? You are full of surprises, aren't you? Fine then. Show me what you can do.

With a bright flash, she disappeared.

With her gone and the sun having sunk behind the trees, Unit Bravo was as strong as they could be while having Zuri in the vicinity. She may not be the sun or a centuries old deity, but the solar powers inside her were enough to prevent them from functioning at full strength. Not that it would be needed against a bunch of flighty, spooked Trappers.

It was a quick fight. Mission accomplished. It ultimately went well. Until it didn't.

One of them got up and tried to swing at her from behind. She saw the man in her periphery, lowered herself into a defensive stance. There wasn't enough time to dodge, but she could take him. 

But not faster than Adam rushed forward to tackle him.

But he wasn't faster than Li-Sar, who appeared out of thin air and struck him down with a bolt of lightning.

He died on impact. Burnt to a crisp.

She missed Adam by a hair.

The air was heavy with tension and fear. Magic and blood. And she choked on it, too thick in her lungs as she gasped.

He could've been killed too.

It didn't take much to convince the vampires to stay back and for Li-Sar to join her somewhere more private - maybe even nostalgic for her - but she knows they aren't far. After what happened during their first encounter, they weren't going to leave the two of them alone for long. 

She needs to be quick.

“But we can't exactly question someone who isn't alive,” she can still feel his blood on her side, can hear how it splattered against bark and damp grass. The way his body fell to the ground, joining the others that were groaning on the ground with a stillness that only comes after a heart stops beating.

Her own hammered in her chest.

“...why?” She asks, quietly, hoping for a good reason, knowing she won't get one.

“Why?” Li-Sar stares her down with a raised brow as if the question couldn't be more ridiculous. Like questioning her at all was even more so.

Louder this time, with anger rumbling beneath a layer of fear and frustration. “After thousands of years, you're free. And the first thing you want to do is kill some random group of humans!? Why?”

“They led themselves to their deathbeds the moment they thought they could have any control over me,” she snarls, the stare souring into a glare. “They are worth less than the dirt beneath our feet. Pests, at best. And I will not let a pest touch what is mine.”

Her jaw clenches, blood boiling, sparks flying off her fingers. God, she can't take anymore of this. Of people staking claim of her, believing she'll bend to their will or will be their tool to use for whatever they want to gain. Something ugly and destructive stirs within her, all sharp teeth and claws and molten heat, rearing its head after laying low for months and being smothered by fear and sadness.

She returns the glare and digs her nails into her wrists, drawing out a hiss. Electricity flares between them, vibrant streaks of blue where her palms meet her skin. 

“And what,” she speaks through clenched teeth, her voice low and hackles raised, “makes you think any part of me is yours.”

Li-Sar's hands glitch out of her grip before she slams her against the tree again. Hard enough for the breath to be knocked out of her lungs. Her body is heavy against hers, forcing her gasps for air to be shallow, her tender ribs screaming as the bark pricks at her back. A hand grabs her wrists and pins them above her head.

“Is the power surging through you not my own? Is our bond not what allows you to wield it?

She doesn't answer. She can't. Nothing she says can change what happened to her. That another supernatural tried to use her, that their will was imposed on her again. That her blood has been the catalyst for all of it. And everyone wants to drain her dry.

Fuck Ostin. And fuck every power-hungry asshole out there.

Zuri stifles a groan and twists and turns. Her legs are useless - heavy, far from the ground and too close to her body for them to put any distance between them. But she has to do something, anything.

Li-Sar tilts her head, watches her fondly and chuckles - now she can both hear it and feel it. Hates that the press of her body - how it reverberates through her, shakes against her - doesn't bother her the way it should. She leans in close, strands of her tickling her cheek as she murmurs, “your anger is endearing, although I don't understand it.”

Her lips brush against her ear and Zuri stills. 

“You have seen my power firsthand, as well as how those around you yearn for it. But still, you fight it. As though it isn't a blessing to be my other-heart.”

“I,” she can't bring herself to turn her head away. “I don't know what that's supposed to mean.”

“Hmm. You will, in time,” she hums before pulling away slightly. Just enough for both of them to have a clear view of the other's face. Enough for Zuri to see nothing but her. Knuckles trail along the curve of her cheek and jaw, a pleasant tingle against her skin.

“The people of this world are meaningless to me. Specks of stardust in a vast galaxy. They have nothing to offer me. But you? You have,” she inhales, deeply, breathing her in while her eyes trace her features as though she could get drunk on her and her alone. “You have more than you could ever imagine.”

A shudder runs down Zuri’s spine. A part of her clings onto the anger she has, tries to will it to fuel her actions, but the heat building up inside her isn't from that alone. Some of it comes from having this woman in front of her. Bold, flirty, certain about herself, what she wants, who she wants. Their hearts are pounding against each other through their clothes, through their chests why does she have to be so-

Li-Sar's eyes travel lower, down her neck and collarbone to where their bodies meet. Zuri follows her gaze without thought. A charge of electricity dances back and forth between them, in and around one person and to the next. She isn't sure what it's transferring, but she can hear every breath they take, feel the clouds gathering above them, the ache in her body fading and the endearment Li-Sar felt towards her. The anger she felt when the Trapper tried to attack her. Amusement, disdain, excitement, confusion.

Lust.

“This is but a glimpse of your potential. Of what I can do with and for you. What I can do to you, if you wish it,” she purrs and puts a finger under her chin. The zap that follows feels like a dangerous mix of pleasure and pain, making Zuri shiver and look back up at her. An instruction and a warning. 

“Don't you want to discover all you are?”

“I am more than my blood.”

There's conviction in her voice, stained with doubt and desperation. As if it isn't just the world she's trying to convince.

But she is more than that. She has to be. She is more than parts of Rook, more than parts of Rebecca, more than what Murphy did to her.

“But of course.”

“I'm mo-” she blinks, “...I'm sorry, what?”

Another chuckle. She holds her chin between her thumb and index finger. And there's that endearment again.

“Surely you don't think that I chose you over that witch because of your blood?” Li-Sar glances off to the side, her mouth curling in disdain as she sighs. “It is powerful, no doubt. An untapped part of your essence that freed me. But there have been many blood sacrifices - that alone is not enough for someone to share in my power.”

Blood sacrifices? Plural? A strange, specific set of words. Ostin did seem almost reverent when he first saw Li-Sar, seemed to loathe the idea of her being imprisoned. They're practically a deity, so having people worship her isn't far fetched. A cult following wouldn't be either. But Zuri only heard about here recently. Outside of how she handled her arrival and Ostin’s temper tantrum, she hasn't exactly done anything that would be of interest to…a God?

She purses her lips. Li-Sar watches her with half-lidded eyes, amused, as though she can hear the dogs turning in her brain. Her focus shifts down to her lips. Zuri pretends not to see it.

“I wonder what I've done that makes me- makes this different, then.”

“It's not just what you've done but what you would do, if you had the chance. I can see it in your eyes, something ferocious but restrained like-” she rolls her lips together and shakes her head, muttering something in Echolian. 

“This English language is inept at describing this. But in all my years, I rarely happened upon someone who has this. But here you are. You, and a woman who calls herself the leader of Rogue Supernaturals.”

Oh shit. Her stomach drops.

“She's spoken to you already? How did she contact you? Did she-”

“Oh hush, there is nothing of importance there,” amusement seeps into her voice as she scoffs. “Nothing to panic over nor be jealous of. She lacks your restraint. It makes her nowhere near as tempting. It is adorable watching your control slip, mortal.”

Dammit. What is with her? Since when can someone she's just met make her fumble like this. Where the hell is her subtlety?

She can't even blame the fight. Li-Sar seems to have healed her wounds again.

God, get it together.

“Your floundering is endearing as well. Almost every part of you is. No need to be embarrassed.”

“I'm not-”

“She wanted to be what you are,” she interrupts and Zuri strains to hold her tongue. “My she’loe-chae'lis, my other-heart, my chosen. And perhaps she would be, if I had not met you first.”

Zuri keeps her eyes trained on her, white-blue against dark brown. Something creeps into her, something like disappointment and the anxiety of something being in jeopardy. Nothing important. Focus. Their blood had mixed when she gave her these powers. Can they be taken away? Could whatever it is that tether them to each other be severed? Would she give it to the Rogue's leader if it could be?

Li-Sar's eyes don't give away a thing. She just watches with what seems like endless patience, like watching the cogs turn is entertaining. Zuri doesn't think she can get any answers that she isn't already willing to share - nothing that really means something to her. Especially now, when she's holding onto anger so tightly that it chaffs and she's still caught in the tension simmering between them. 

“You think too much,” she says, cooing again before leaning in close enough for their foreheads to touch. “Don't you see, meor'dal? The humans want to control me and the supernaturals of this world want to be my chosen. But all I want is you.”

Her breath hitches. The anger slips. All that's left is the heat thruming through her and pooling in her abdomen, the nerves fluttering in her stomach, her breath fanning her face, how thin their clothes feel, how they shouldn't be there-

God, it's all she's wanted for as long as she can remember. For someone to want her. To choose her over everything. Over work, over rationale or fear, over something or someone more convenient. To see something in her that's worth staying for, even if they can barely reach it. She almost can, just a few inches shy of reaching in and grazing that all too sensitive spot nestled inside her.

“All I want,” her voice is close to a whisper as she cups her face, “is you, and the world we can shape together.”

But at what cost?

Just…keep it together.

A shaky exhale is all that comes out for a while. A pause. Then eyebrows furrow as she frowns like she might just sob. Zuri shakes her head a bit before resting the back of her head against the tree - she didn't even realise it had moved - and peers up at the sky. The moon peeks out from behind dark red clouds.

She can't just take her at her word. Who knows if this is what she wants and not what she knows makes her weak, feeds some twisted part of her that wants someone to be willing to burn down the world for her.

“I,” the words die in her throat when she meets her gaze again, sees the depthless, unbridled need inside of them… she almost doesn't want to say it but…

She slams her eyes shut and shakes her head again. “No, no, I- I don't want the world.”

“Then what?” Frustration makes the charge between them tremble. Fingers grasp the side of her face in an attempt to make her look at her, as if she'll claw the answer out of her if that's what it takes to have her at her side. Zuri’s eyes open and Li-Sar's face twists. Something close to desperation meets that frustration.

“What do you desire? What is it you crave that you believe I cannot give to you?” A muscle in her jaw twitches as her lips set into a hard line, nose wrinkled and eyes glowing a bright white. “I am already yours as much as you are mine, so tell me!”

A rumble of thunder accompanies the growl in her voice and goosebumps rise on Zuri’s skin, the fear raking down her spine freezing her in her spot. 

That's the problem, isn't it? Li-Sar would do whatever it would take to fulfill her, to gain her favour, to crack her open and free the ugliest parts of her from their restraints. She'd protect her from any and every threat, destroy them in a blink of an eye. If she joins her. If she's willing to bury those she loves alongside the power-hungry and greedy. They're nothing To her, after all. Insignificant little things with nothing to offer her. If Li-Sar is hers as Zuri is hers, what good would anyone else be? What would they be but a threat to their bond?

She doesn't want that. She never will. She'd rather go unwanted for the rest of her life than lose her friends, her family, the community she has here in Wayhaven despite everything. There's no answer she can give that is worth never laughing with Tina and Verda again. Or experiencing the world through fresh eyes with Farah. Watching the sunrise in comfortable silence with Morgan. Exchanging books and anecdotes with Nate.

Being the reason Adam lowers his guard and smiles enough for the dimples to show on his face.

Every moment with them plays in her mind like a movie on fast forward. Slows to the day she left a scar on Adam's arm, one that won't heal. It's permanent. Her throat burns. She can't lose them. She won't. Not while she's alive and breathing. She won't be the reason he's hurt again and no one will carry any scars because of her.

Zuri stares back at Li-Sar. Another rumble, another flash of electricity, a crack of lightning, tension tension tension-

She is unwavering, firm. She won't get the answer she wants. At that, the amalgamation of frustration and anger softens into confusion, then fascination, then…she looks impressed? Begrudgingly, but impressed nonetheless.

“Fine,” she scoffs and glances away, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Keep your secrets while you can. You will speak them freely once you join me.”

She almost slumps in relief, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. This is, what? Their second meeting? Their first full on conversation? And she can toy with her as though she's known her her whole life, push every button, say all the right things. It will never not be weird to be on the receiving end of that. 

The air sighs, feeling lighter by the second. But only one type of tension evaporated. The other still lingers, balances on a tightrope. 

Li-Sar's gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips, her hand gently cradling her face rather than grasping it tightly. She releases her wrists and Zuri's arms fall to her bare shoulders. Blue currents run down her arms, whirl around Li-Sar's shoulders down to her fingertips. For the first time, she shudders, eyes widening as she continues to watch her with a new intensity.

“...would you grant me this moment?” 

Her hushed words hang in the air between them. Zuri blinks up at her. This can't be what she thinks it is. What she hates that she hopes it is.

“...what?”

A thumb caresses her bottom lip, the stinging fading as she does. There's fluttering in her stomach again, warmth in her cheeks, anticipation in her veins. 

“I'd like to taste you, if you'd permit me,” a small gasp, and Li-Sar mirrors her, parts her own lips, seconds that feel like minutes pass before she continues. “I will savour however much of you I can have.”

The heat returns with a vengeance at the yearning in her eyes. Oh God. Zuri’s heart might just beat out of her chest. The last kiss she had was both bittersweet and magical and everyday after that has been a test in restraint. 

Being alone with Adam was like drowning; his presence is all-encompassing, beautiful, painful, everything it wasn't supposed to be. It was supposed to be easy and fun, her wriggling her way past his walls and getting to see more of him than what the world sees. But he burrowed his way under her skin too and now? Now she's lost her balance, fallen from the edge and things are more complicated than they've ever been. Now she itches to be in his arms again, to run her fingers through the short strands of his hair, to feel his hand on her face and his lips on hers. She finds herself on the verge of begging and pleading for him to share that moment with her. 

Just one more kiss, even if he won't have her. Even if they keep dancing around what they have. Even if it's better that way. 

And here she is, with an all powerful being who is bold and beautiful and dangerous and wants her. Who isn't afraid of what it could mean or how it could end. She wants her. She could kill her for daring to deny her. But instead she asks for a kiss. Just one kiss, even if she can't have her the way she wants to. 

Zuri wraps an arm around her neck and draws her in before she can think. She doesn't want to think - to resist - anymore. She wants it messy and desperate and electric.

Li-Sar chuckles and puts her free hand against the tree, crowding her but preventing her from pulling her any closer. “You will have to use your words. That shouldn't be difficult with that silver tongue of yours.”

She can't say it out loud, it's messed up and embarrassing and-

“May I taste you?”

Her eyebrows furrow, she's holding her breath, her head moves up and down before she can think-

Yesyesyesyes-

“...yeah,” it's shaky when it comes out, mixed with a heavy breath. “Yes…please.”

Li-Sar's eyes flash again, the hand on her cheek sits more securely while the other slowly moves to her waist. She stares at her with wonder and… concern. Their foreheads touch and one of Zuri’s hands leaves her shoulder to brush her hair out of her face. She needs to look at her.

“You have been hurt, haven't you, meor'dal?” She leans in closer, dips her head until the tips of their noses brush, her voice soft but firm. “I promise you this. That ache in your heart? That is something you will never have to bear again. Not when you are with me.”

Zuri is warm all over from the heat inside and against her body. Her hair is soft between her fingers, her scent is dizzying, her breath fans against her face and she is so beautiful. She's beautiful, she's dangerous, she wants her, she isn't him. The light, barely there touch of her lips makes sparks course through her, through her fingers, slice through her thoughts until all that's left are fragments yes, please, I want, need this, kiss me, kiss me, please-

“Zuri?”

Eyes snap open. A hand covers her mouth. Her own shift to her shoulders, balled into fists, pushing her away. The bark pokes at her back and the back of her head. 

She doesn't need to glance to the side to see who's there. She'd know that voice anywhere. She looks anyway.

Adam. 

Shit.

The rest of Unit Bravo come up from behind him, standing at a distance. Stiff like they all want to run towards her and get Li-Sar as far away from her as possible.

Li-Sar is doing the same.

Her hair stands on end as she stares at them, the static so overwhelming it crackles and pops and stings. Thunder starts rumbling, low and threatening, the backdrop to this standoff. She doesn't look at Zuri when she speaks, her voice echoing through the forest as she speaks. “Which one of them is it?”

Fear floods in and flushes every feeling away. Shit. She could kill them right where they stand. She pushes the hand on her mouth away, gets a tight hold of her wrist. 

“Li-Sar, no. Stop.”

“Tell me.”

Farah watches intently. Morgan growls. Nate puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder. He still shifts closer. 

“No,” the panic is clear in the rasp of her voice. “Leave them alone.”

“Who-”

“Stop!”

Her voice booms. There's a crack of thunder, a flash of lightning. The vampires cover their ears. Zuri’s hand zips forward, clutches Li-Sar's jaw, forcing her head to turn towards her. Away from them. Something surges through her, mixing with the fear, amplifying the anger and the ugly little thing inside her that gnaws at its cage. She won't watch them be hurt again. Not by either of them. Her fingers dig into her face again, another hiss as her nails pierce her skin. Her mind races with thoughts and images of every way she could stop Li-Sar, each one gorier than the next.

It would be the last thing she lets either of them do. 

“You stay away from him,” her voice is as cutting and as loud as the thunder, “from all of them. If you even look in their direction again, you'll lose any chance you had of me being your she’loe-chae'lis.”

She says the word like her Echolian has been fully honed.

Li-Sar stares at her, her face still scrunched in anger, her eyes bright but inspecting. Curious. Piercing like she might call her bluff that there's any chance at all. They dim, and familiar fascination slips through. That, and an impressed smirk. 

“As you wish,” she steps away a few seconds after Zuri lets go of her jaw, keeping her eyes on her as she backs away. 

She stops at the trees opposite her, places a hand on one, making sure to turn her body away from Unit Bravo when she does.

“Until we next meet, Zuri,” her name echoes before she vanishes in a flash of lightning with a loud crack.

The tree has been split in too, leaves burnt to ash, branches black and smoking. 

A warning of what she can do. What she could've done.

Zuri’s feet touch the ground for the first time in ages and her legs buckle.

“Zuri, are you harmed? Are you-”

“Give her a moment, Adam.”

Nate puts a hand on his shoulder again. The four of them get as close as they can while staying out of reach. She looks back at them, leaning back against the tree, panting with a wry smile. They're okay. They're all okay. “A moment would be appreciated.”

“Woah. Your eyes,” Farah stares at her in awe. “Your hair, your voice! Holy shit. Those powers are getting stronger by the day.”

Inhale. Exhale. 

“You say that like it's a good thing.”

“It's not a good thing or a bad thing,” she shrugs, “just…a thing. I think.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“When were you gonna tell us that stuff would make your voice that loud?” Morgan joins in, crossing her arms and inspecting her with a concerned frown.

Zuri let's out a short, breathless laugh. “Oh trust me, I would've told you the moment I found out.”

“We do trust you.”

She shakes her head and gives them a weak smile. They're only talking because they know the silence would be worse for her. That noise, no matter how soft, helps her breathe easier. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

She vaguely feels her earrings lower to their usual position, dangling from her ears. Her clothes loosening around her, back to hugging her figure instead of squeezing it. The magic inside her feels less like a waterfall and more like a small stream, contained and not sparking outward.

It's Nate who speaks next. “How are you feeling, Zee?” 

Soothed. Embarrassed. Exhausted. Relieved. Too many things to describe in depth. But she knows one thing.

“You're all okay. You're alright, so I'm good. Tired, but good.”

She straightens up and takes a step towards them. Or really, stumbles towards them. Adam catches her by the elbow and puts a hand on her back. She looks up at him with furrowed brows before looking down at his arm, shying away from his touch. The scar is still there. She hurt him one way and almost hurt him in another.

She almost kissed her.

“Wait, Adam I…”

“It is as you said. We are all alright,” she looks up again and finds him smiling softly. “I am all right.”

Guilt coils inside her chest. 

“Let us go home,” he adds softly.

Zuri stares at the split tree, rolling her lips together at the sight. At the images that come with it. The part of her that already misses her and part that wants her gone in a way that's more permanent than a magically powered cell. She nods, leans into him despite how wrong she feels for doing it, and he leads her away. 

She needs to just… get away from here.