#its pretty bad but mostly everything i draw lately is so i decided to just call it good and stop messing with it

[bathroomtomb]

i am little pieces

[deconstructthesoup]

Fantasy High Adventure Time AU

And I am back at it again with the self-indulgent nonsense...

Okay, so, yeah, this started with my post where I noticed the stark similarities between Marceline and Fig. Which, of course, sent my ADHD brain spiraling, and I decided to actually COMMIT to this.

Also, fair warning, this isn't gonna be neat and organized like my others, this is just gonna be *wall of incoherent text*. If I could draw, this would be entertaining, but, uh... YEP!

*clears throat*

So... Fabian and Kristen are the only two humans living in Ooo, and while they both arrived on its shores in different circumstances, the two of them were both taken in by a goblin family who'd left the goblin kingdom and taken up residence in one of the destroyed cities. Eventually, the two set off on their own, along with their adoptive brother Riz, to pursue a life of adventure and heroism just outside of the Candy Kingdom.

All of them have pretty different motives for going into the hero business, though it mostly comes back to just wanting to stick with each other. Fabian's in it for the adrenaline rushes and the glory, Riz is in it for the detective skills and putting bad guys away, and Kristen's just in it to help others out. Riz is, of course, the braincell amongst the three of them, and he's usually there on the sidelines rubbing the bridge of his nose while his siblings are getting themselves tangled in romantic subplots.

The three of them mostly answer to Adaine, aka Princess Buttercream---a girl who was mutated into a candy person after nearly dying in the aftermath of the Great Mushroom War, and has since built herself a kingdom dedicated to peace, learning, science, magic, and sweets. She's incredibly intelligent (and, unlike Bonnie, actually has a lot of interest in magic) and a very capable ruler, but she does occasionally get herself into scrapes---so, it's a good thing she's got three intrepid heroes watching her back.

Not too far away from where Fabian, Kristen, and Riz live is the Thistlespring residence, where their friend Gorgug lives---a shy half-giant who has a passion for tinkering and dreams of adventuring, but is held back by his fear of his giant fury taking him over. The heroes still visit him constantly and encourage him to try as best as he can, eventually giving him the confidence he needs to start making his own path---and to finally ask out the girl he likes.

Another close friend of the heroes is Figeroth the Demon Queen, a devil-may-care rock star with powers that come straight from the Nightosphere. She, too, remembers what life was like before the Great Mushroom War, but she doesn't really think back on it as much as she maybe should. Fig and Adaine are best friends, and have been since they met in the wastelands of the ruined planet... though their relationship's been a little bit strained as of late, mostly due to Fig's long-ago breakup with the former princess of the Fire Kingdom and the current librarian of Wizard City. Adaine's been trying to get them back together, and while Fig and Ayda are talking again... there's still a while to go.

The Candy Kingdom is constantly under attack by the Ice Queen, who at the start of the story just appears to be a wicked witch who plans on imprisoning Adaine and taking over Ooo... a witch that, unfortunately, Fabian has a bit of a thing for. But after some digging, Fabian, Kristen, and Riz find out that the Ice Queen is actually Adaine's older sister Aelwyn, who's been driven mad by a crown that their father had uncovered in the days of the Mushroom War. Aelwyn has forgotten almost everything---including her best friend and girlfriend, Sam Nightingale---but she still dimly remembers her connection to Adaine, even if Adaine was too young to fully remember her. (Oh, yeah, also, Aelwyn's, like, twelve years older than her in this.)

This is all I really have so far, though I've got a couple other snippets---Ragh also starts out as an antagonist but grows into a solid ally and Fabian's love interest, Tracker and Jawbone are part of a group of werewolves who are descended from some of the original humans, Ostentasia is an LSP equivalent---but, yeah, this is all I can get out right now.

...I gotta go to bed.

[onekisstotakewithme]

2023 Fic Masterlist

Happy New Year, everyone! I thought I'd do another yearly round-up of everything I wrote for M*A*S*H this year. It was, admittedly, a quieter year this year, but I still have some stories I'm pretty proud of. Enjoy!

Works in Progress (WIPs)

Close to the Heart (6/12 chapters posted) - “Anything close to the heart is risky.” One spring morning in 1952, Peg Hunnicutt walks into Hawkeye Pierce's office with one simple request: kill her husband. Noir AU (well, subverted noir AU), triad-ish. 23.5k so far.

into a gold and crimson graciousness of October (1/5 chapters posted) - A chance meeting in a Hannaford parking lot in the fall of 1955 leads to Donna being invited to spend Thanksgiving in Crabapple Cove. What she isn't expecting is that Charles will be there too. Sort-of sequel to 'younger in October than in all the months of spring; Charleshawk, Charles/Donna, Charles/Donna/Hawkeye. 5k so far.

BJ/Hawkeye/Peg

the best thing going - It looks like any other beach. Sun, sand, ocean... the only thing missing is the clothes. Written for the "M*A*S*H Fic Olympics", 1960s AU set at a nude beach. 5k.

As Years Unfurl - Ten years after the war ends, under the clock in Grand Central Station. Post-canon. 1.5k.

fire's burning (draw nearer) - A late-night conversation that Peg (mostly) isn't meant to hear. Post-canon, 1k.

Beejhawk

just can't stand another lonely night - Hawkeye walks in on BJ during R&R, and decides to offer him a hand. Canon-compliant, Smut, Touch-starved BJ. 3.3k.

its torment won't be through - “She hasn’t seen what this place does to good men. Never mind what it does to those of us that were rotten to start with.” Tag to "That's Show Biz". 2.6k

addressed to the fire - BJ writes a lot of letters, but he only sends some of them. (Or 5 times BJ doesn't send a letter, +1 time he does) Canon-compliant. Written for the "M*A*S*H Fic Olympics". 2.9k.

BJ/Peg

Aurora - She looks up, her heart beating hard against her ribcage, and then, like the sun breaking over the horizon, she sees him. Tag to "Goodbye, Farewell and Amen." 2k.

Perfect - It’s going to be perfect, if she has anything to say about it. She owes it to BJ, to put the past two anniversaries behind them, to come out of the dark night hand in hand, stronger and still together. Peg and BJ's first anniversary after Korea. 2.5k.

Sunshine & Orange Blossoms - Sunshine and the smell of oranges, the smell of home. Written for the "M*A*S*H Fic Olympics". 2k.

Other/Gen

Welcome to Korea... Again - Twenty years after the end of the Korean War, Hawkeye and the other members of the 4077th MASH reunite in Korea. Post-canon. Featured in the M*A*S*H 50th Anniversary Fanzine. 2.5k.

The Flying Dutchman of the Pusan Perimeter - Later, he’ll hear the stories of tonight in hospitals across Japan and Korea, told as ghost stories. Steve Newsome-centric fic. Written for the "M*A*S*H Fic Olympics." 1.6k.

Something Good - “What’s your something good?” “Huh?” “I mean, you know, we’re not the Plaza, but hey we’re not all bad. There’s gotta be something good about this place. Of course, I haven’t found it yet.” BJ & Hawkeye friendship fic. Tag to "Letters". 1.3k.

[rubyfists]

hello!!! is there an info post about elora?? their tag is super sick and id love to know more about em!

hello there!!! i do, but it mostly serves as an art gallery rn. here is the page anyways tho! it is on toyhouse, and has just basic info, but It Exists. ive been wanting to make a more detailed page but alas i am Grad Student. EVENTUALLY ill make an actual info page tho. eventually.

ill ramble a lil bit to compensate

(art by @/inksycat)

this is miss elora lavain!!!! she lives a life on the run, so she goes by a few other names as well such as maris starseeker & nerine rubystar. she is a moon elf :3 she's also a bisexual trans woman (she/her)! as for class, she is a swashbuckler rogue w/ the pirate background

elora is a dnd character i made for a faerun campaign i played back in 2018... not as my pc, but as a major npc. i played that campaign as my other oc, arahana rubyfist. elora was her girlfriend that disappeared under ~*mysterious circumstances and served as arahana's motivation to adventure. there was other stuff going on as well, but the crux of arahanas story involved chasing elora thru her past & discovering the Truth of who she rly was

cause u see elora lavain was a persona made to conceal her past as the Infamous Pirate Captain Maris Starseeker (tm). yeah she got a pretty big bounty on her head from Pirate Crimes and so after her crew was destroyed, she decided to retire. despite losing her crew she had quite a lot of treasure hidden away and decided to Retire in Luxury, posing as nobility. she relocated to waterdeep and the plan was to lay low there as long as she could until Whoops. she fell in love. she was pretty torn btwn not wanting arahana 2 find out who she rly was & her Impeding capture (she had a lot of bounty hunters after her)... and so when she left it was Already too late.

she was captured & sentenced to death, awaiting her execution in a high security prison known as the dreadvault. arahana DID manage to bust her out with the help of her friends though. and they were able to reunite!!! and reaffirm their love for eachother!!! and swear to be honest with eachother from that point on!!! and it still kills me!!!

busting someone out of a high security prison garners a lot of heat tho and so arahana & elora hid away in a cozy lil mountain cabin. during that time they worked on their relationship and eventually got married!!! they're still married and i love them to death. they are my Favorites. that's where her story ends for now!

more on the personality side of things... so ill first of all say, that eloras personality is pretty Fragmented. shes got bits of herself split up among her various identities. usually each identity is based on one facet of herself, or a fantasy, and it develops into a Character thru that. for instance, maris starseeker is Definitely a power fantasy and is a pirate queen thru and thru... while elora lavain fits more of the Princess Role. her ability to Fully immerse herself in these roles helps her evade capture cause she is able to present herself as a Totally different person to most ppl. however, if you know her well enough, there Are consistencies. for example, elora is generally pretty extroverted. she's the kind of person that draws attention, and is a Born Leader. she is confident, bold, fun, flirtatious, ambitious, competitive, and adventurous. she is pretty charismatic as well! she is also a compulsive liar, as she's so use to having to Lie about everything that she is that its just Natural to her at this point. she's also crafted a life where she doesnt rly have to deal w/ hard emotions, so she's able to give an air that she is Above it all when really shes just bad at dealing w/ emotions LOL. she is the embodiment of this

only walking out means completely leaving the area and creating a new identity. #girl

anyways this is. a lot im so bad at summarizing shit but i think this serves well enough as a primer into the Elora Lavain experience. she is by far my favorite oc and is my Everything girl. and thank you so much for asking about her!!! :)

[shizukateal]

In light of the Tokyo Mew Mew reboot being revealed, what do you think of the new designs? (Personally, I'm a huge fan! I love the triangle trimming, it adds a lot.)

Oh, we have visual confirmation? Let's see-

Oh umhnsnojnernjvrkslfsd.

Sorry, anon, I disagree. Most of these choices are downgrades.

Like, ok, I guess this is my fault because most of the time I bring them up as negative examples, but the truth is that I always thought that the original Tokyo Mew Mew Costumes where pretty much perfect shape-wise. That's kind of part of my mild frustration with them: individually, the outfits are so good that to solve their main problem -the fact that they are all monochrome and thus look un-cohesive and loud when put together- you'd need to do some extreme changes to even add neutral colors, like white. And guess what? THIS DOESN'T EVEN FIX THAT. Instead now the chokers have ribbons in them. WHY? The originals were perfectly fine and iconic, these neck ribbons are a lot more generic by comparison and are a lot more distracting, and the ones on the leg bracers are worse!

Ok, that merits some elaboration. I should probably make a separate post about this but long story short, the thing with ribbons, frills/lace and tails is that they are eye-catching so everything about them -shape, color, placement- has to be very carefully balanced. The leg ribbons not only pull the eye towards the leg because they're big, they also dangle, and that movement competes with the other looser parts of the design, which is especially problematic for this team which has mostly athletic ways to move thanks to their powers. The neck ribbons technically make sense because they all wear corsets and that's a tried and tested combination in playboy bunny-girl costumes which are the trunk of this team's style, but guess what? NONE of the girls are playboy bunnies!!! No, not even Mew Berry!!!! ALL of them have other stuff going on in their costumes that competes with these ribbons! "But Zakuro/Reneé is skimpy-" Zakuro is not skimpy in a way that allows for this cutesy bullshit!!! She is a bad bitch who uses a goddamn whip, which btw she should be allowed to show off all the time instead of being forced to carry the hilt alone. Oh god, the pendants have been replaced with boring hearts as well which was the one thing they all shared in the same shape and color and was UNIQUE TO THE FRANCHISE, it's like they're trying to piss me off.

And again, sorry anon, you are completely entitled to your tastes, but I hate the triangular lace trimming. It's pointy, looks uncomfortable, it distracts the eye, it makes the outfits harder to draw, and like every other bad choice in this reboot it takes away from the slickness of the original designs. It also doesn't make sense??? I mean, for Ichigo it does because her fruit is a strawberry, but like... they had fur lining... because they are furries. I don't understand why they needed to be changed into this.

It's too late now, but I guess I'll get into the specifics:

Mew Ichigo:

Ok, the one good choice the reboot does is keep her hair red. Yes, the cotton candy bob is very cute and fluffy, whatever you say, but between the inside of the ears and the eyes and the rest of her clothes it was always a bit too much. And like I said, the lace trimming almost works for her theme, but putting it below the skirt is pointless, because HER TOP ALREADY ENDS IN LEAVES OVER THE BALLOONED SKIRT GIVING THE SHAPE OF A STRAWBERRY. The skirt is also rounder now btw, and I don't it works as well because between the height at which its placed and the leaves it kinda bulks up her stomach, although that just may be the position she's in in this picture, but in any case it doesn't fit her movement. Heavy ballooned skirts work better for girls who bounce or glide/fly, not girls who backflip and land on 4 legs. (A post about how magical girl mobility affects the outfits will now begin process to explain this further) For some reason they also decided to give her boots white laces which match with absolutely nothing and oh??? They took away the ribbon in her glove??? Probably because they realized it would compete with her new neck ribbon????? You know, I have an idea guys, what if... and hear me out on this one... you just leave the chockers as they were????? I see that all the girls have the hearts in their gloves now, does that mean that they all activate their attacks the same way she did??? That seems arbitrary to me but, hey, if you want to go through all these twists and turns go off I guess...

Mew Mint

I always liked Mint's outfit because of how extremely simple but effective it is. She is sprite-like, dainty, ephemeral yet pointy, so her mini-dress is extremely simple, and the way it form-fits to her leaving the skirt with minimal movement brings more attention to the way her body moves when she does ballet, which is why her transformation sequence is my favorite. Her short boots are also a stroke of genius, allowing her to stand on pointe and make her ballet moves comfortably without loosing practicality, so her gloves were made to match that style. All of the new accessories on this reboot take away from that, even the laces on her boots, but especially the hair. No idea why they needed to change that, her look is already iconic and passes the silhouette test, but while I'm certainly not against ballerina characters with loose hair, the fact is that it does take away from conveying to us that she has that ability.

Mew Lettuce:

(Tumblr doesn't allow more than 10 images per post, which is bullshit so here's the link to her wiki page to see her original outfit)

Lettuce was always the worst dressed on the team, even though it wasn't because any of her choices were bad on their own. Her outfit was fine, shape wise, but it hardly ever felt like it fit her personality, which wasn't helped by the fact that out of all the Mew Mew's she's the one with the least specific way of moving. Her early 2000's hair looked stiff and too big for her braid, the ribbons symbolizing her antennae were always an odd choice, and she had the same problem as Ichigo in that her hair and eye color were too bright and made her look especially like an eyesore. So, does she look better with this redesign? Eh... yeah, I guess, but I still can't quite abide by calling this fully competent. Her skirt does wear the triangular lace trim better than the rest, but that doesn't mean I have to like it in the gloves and sleeves, or in the leg bracer, and with the new laces on the boots it takes away from the idea that Lettuce is the water-type of the team. I do like the ribbon behind her hair, but guess what?? Say it with me: it competes with the ribbon in front of it, and since they're allowing her to keep her 2 braids this time, it doesn't even look like it connects to anything!!!! But hey, congrats to her for getting the most out of this.

Mew Pudding:

Whyyyyyyy would you give Pudding a skirt?? What in the hell did they think was wrong with her short? SHE'S THE ACROBATIC MARTIAL ARTIST, IT'S PRACTICAL AND CUTE!!! This fucking reboot, I swear, it thinks ALL the girls were somehow too tomboyish and now it's forcing them to be more femenine with all these... unnecessary ribbons, her braids are longer and that doesn't look good, she's not allowed to wear her fur gloves which looked comfier, nor her baggy leg-warmers, no siree, non of that mildly tomboyish bullshit that shed light on her interests and abilities, only form fitting socks over flats and fucking laces and ribbons everywhere and you know what why don't we add ponytails that distract even more from the ear tufts just in case?

Mew Zakuro:

Ok look. I get why you would make Zakuro wear something underneath her shorts but why did it need to be this weird, pointy, uncomfortable-looking triangle... biker shorts?? Like... yeah, ok, Zakuro is sexualized, not gonna deny that, not gonna pretend like there isn't something to discuss there, but like... THIS DOESN'T EVEN FIX THAT! Fuck, if anything it almost makes it worst because her short in the reboot is tinier than the original and the ribbons actually infantilize the look! WHY does she need ribbons in her hair? Why change her bracelets for the pointy wrist-gloves??? I also don't quite dig the straighter, longer hair, taking away the pointiness makes her look less fierce and more traditionally beautiful in Japanese tastes. I get that she's a model, but goddamn it, she was never the "proper", lady-like, older sister type, she is THE MYSTERIOUS LONER OF THE GROUP.

I just... I don't get it dude. I mean yeah, I complained about the original designs before, but I don't get why make this changes in particular. Who saw these girls and told the designer "yeah we need them to be more femme"? Girls LOVE the original outfits, they are incredibly popular in cosplay and fanart!!!

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

I need to share soft sign language buddies ninogami headcanon because they’re taking over my brain always:

(This got so long, so youre welcome if youre also starved for ninogami content)

Nino’s mom is Deaf , so he grew up signing as much as speaking. When he was younger he always signed as he talked.

It turned out he’s also Hard of Hearing, so sign language is way easier for him to understand most of the time.

However, though he’s great at making friends, he’s very awkward when it comes to talking about himself. So never comes up in conversation.

It’s not a self-deprication issue. It’s just a “thinking of things to say is hard and I’d rather have someone else do the talking” thing. He’d rather talk about anyone except himself.

Additionally! He’s great at helping other people, but he’s terrible at asking for help. He does not EVER want to be like “hey i cant understand what you’re saying, my ears dont work great,” its his worst nightmare

And it doesnt help that there have been a few cases of people being rude about it when he doesnt hear them after they repeat themselves. And possibly worse, there have been even more cases of people giving over-the-top apologies instead of just,, telling him what they said. So it’s not worth the trouble in his mind

with his few close friends who still dont know, it feels like its too late and it’d be awkward to bring it up, so he just… doesnt. He’s procrastinating on telling them he cant hear them

He stopped signing as much as he talked in middle school because strangers would always be like “woah thats so cool, how do you know sign language” and he’d just panic because he was an awkward tween, and he didnt know if he was comfortable telling them he was HoH, but ALSO just saying his mom was Deaf and not mentioning himself felt like directly lying by hiding information, so he just took the “lazy” way out and signed less in public.

Sometimes fighting the anxiety was not worth it so he just let it win in that case.

Nino is so nice and energetic and loves people, but he is way more introverted and anxious than his friends think.

But when they start to get closer, Kagami who is ever-observant, notices him signing a little bit, (not ever to her, not ever on purpose, but he’d sometimes sign a word he needed to remember while speaking or sign along to emphasize something)

and she luckily for his anxiety, she doesnt know how to have a normal conversation either.

Her (platonic as well as romantic) love language is studying and research, and Nino seems very cool and she likes him, even if she is awful at holding a conversation with him or doing anything to show it.

She thinks he’s so cool and such an amazing talented kind friend. She has so much love for him that she doesnt know what to do with it. So she channels that energy into learning to sign through the internet and whatever tools she can find

And then after a while of this, she’s like “oh no, he’s gonna think that’s so creepy, I cant tell him I know sign language or he’ll be so uncomfortable”

So, like a whole idiot, she hides that she’s learning sign language from anyone. Because OBVIOUSLY if word got back to Nino, he’d assume it was because of him and that she was a weirdo he shouldn’t be friends with

But also Kagami accidentally falls in love with sign language because she has undiagnosed autism. She always assumed that communicating was just going to be impossible no matter what, but as she gets proficient in sign language she’s like,,, oh,,, OH,, this is very nice

Even just signing while she talks makes it so much easier to keep words and sentances straight, but she only does it when she’s alone with her mother, who is literally blind and would never know.

They become closer friends in late high school, and by that time a lot of Nino’s anxiety has worn off and he’s become completely comfortable letting teachers know when he needs to hear somthing, and middle school feels like a distant dream

At some point, Nino invites Kagami to his house a few times, and he signs with his mom. Nino is like “I can interpret for you,” and Kagami is like “wow thanks, I’m so lucky, because I obviously do not know any sign language, why would I have learned it, and also for the record it is brand new information to me that you can sign,” and Nino is like “cool? Its not a secret but im glad i told you if you somehow didnt already know,” and Kagami is like, “yep :)”

But then eventually as they become really close, they are texting one night, (Kagami can still barely get out of her house, so they need to communicate remotely. And both of then HATE phone calls bc its so hard to understand whats happening, but neither of them have admitted this to anyone)

Nino admits that he likes using sign language better than talking, and he wishes he could use it with his friends, but he’d feel so guilty asking them to learn an entire language just to make him slightly more comfortable. He can talk and hear OKAY so he shouldnt put the pressure on them.

and Kagami is like “you could always ask, worst case scenerio they say no, and i dont think thats an unreasonable demand” and nino is like “it is though,” and kagami’s like “ok so haha funny story, please dont hate me” and nino is like, “…what.” And kagami confesses everything and nino is like “why… why would i hate you for that?” And Kagami is like “oh wait youre right im stupid,”

And then Nino’s also like “hey if YOURE more comfortable signing too, then why dont YOU ask your friends to sign for you. Do you see what i mean? It’s hard to ask-” and kagami is like, “as your friend i will prove it is not.”

So then Kagami ends up confronting Adrien and Marinette the next day and is like “Hi. This is a sign language dictionary. Learn from it.” And they’re both like “what?” And she’s like “oh wait sorry. Backing up. I’m autistic. I decided like three years ago. Forgot to tell you. And I need you to learn to sign a little bit so you can understand if i sign something at you. If you want, of course. Please :D.” And theyre like “ok sure yeah i can do that.”

(Theyve already learned and accepted that shes extremely direct in asking for things)

So then she texts nino and is like “i did it. Youre welcome.”

But anyway both of them are uncomfortable in crowds and parties: Nino cant hear anyone and Kagami tends to get sensory overload, so they start signing mostly in those situations, and then it starts to sink in that they’re allowed to sign whenever and that the other really IS also comfortable with it.

(Both of them are much more willing to make sacrifices for others than to try something new and intimidating for themself, so this is the perfect situation to trick them into getting out of their comfort zone, ironically by trying to be more comfortable in the long run)

so they will just sit together and hang out and have long conversations while just chilling somewhere in a park or at cafes or whatever. Both of them become chattier than they’ve ever been because talking and understanding is so much easier, and its addicting

And their close friends all become proficient enough in sign language to have simple conversations.

But also Nino and Kagami start sitting together automatically even in group hangouts, and they start hanging out more with just the two of them, and soon neither of them feel bad about asking to hang out in quieter places, because they can justify it knowing that it will also help the other one, and together that makes both of them also more comfortable asking for little accomodations from other friends, if only to prove to the other that they can do it too.

And Kagami has the lesser-known autism side effect where she makes WAY TOO MUCH eye contact. She’s aware of it but that doesnt make it go away. Normally she feels so awkward about it, and overthinks her gaze because she doesnt want to scare people away. But when signing, you literally HAVE to be watching the other person constantly, so she has an excuse to just be herself, and its so relieving

(and also its kind of fun to look at Nino anyway because he can get so animated and his smile is really nice and oh no she is in love a little bit)

And Nino always struggles because he emotionally ALWAYS needs to be the nice polite one. His anxiety sometimes gets the better of him and he’s constantly worried about sending the wrong signals to his friends and coming off as rude somehow. But with Kagami, he can literally just ask?? And she will tell him her honest opinion without making it weird. And its so comfy and so good and he really loves hearing her unfiltered opinions on so many things because she sees the world in such a unique way and she gets so passionate about such little things and then oh no, he is fallen for her before he can realize it

And they also learn that they’re both artists, they both love to just observe the world because even if they;re awkward, people are actually pretty great most of the time, and its fun to observe them and try to capture the world, and they just sit together and sketch, or they watch each other sketch, and the thing is, both of them draw ONLY FOR THEMSELVES, its not a ‘skill,’ and they don;t want it to be, its just private art for relaxation. Somehow, though, its okay if they share their art with each other. They can just sit in comfortable silence for hours while one of them sketches something and the other watches patiently

And they start to get more comfortable with one of their heads resting on the other’s shoulder as they watch them doodle, and sitting so close their legs press together, and soon enough their hands start brushing against each other’s as they walk next to each other and then all of a sudden they’re casually holding hands whenever they’re not signing because it’s nice

They try to share headphones so Nino can share some of his favorite songs and his compositions with Kagami. But try as she might, Kagami can not handle the sensory of only having one earbud in. Nino knows her tells by that point, and he’s not about to let her suffer for a stupid reason, but she REALLY does want to hear his music. They somehow end up with Kagami putting a pair of headphones around her neck and turning up the volume a little bit so she can hear, while Nino rests his head on her shoulder so he can hear just enough to know where she is in the song

And then he has to sit up and scootch away just enough to see her hands so they can talk about it, and they both pretend not to notice how nice it was to snuggle as they sign. Its fine, though, because now they get the excuse to just look at each other again and sign overdramatically with exaggerated facial expressions, and no one else around can overhear their conversation, and Nino likes to go a little over the top when signing onomatopoeia and acting out particular parts of the song rhythm that he likes, and Kagami laughs, and they both mentally save the image of each other in this moment the same way that they look at reference images for artwork, memorizing the lines of each movement and the things that make each smile unique,

and Nino also shows up at every single one of her fencing tournaments, and he sits as close as he can and signs encouraging messages to her from the crowd whenever she’s not actively competing, (that her blind mom can never catch, which is somewhat of a bonus to Kagami, because every element of their friendship that her mother cant interact with makes this more personal and special and HERS). Every little sign she sends back at him, even a simple thank you, always feels so good and rebellious and free because shes supposed to be focusing on fencing but shes deciding to care more about friendship. And even if she’s expected to leave immediately afterword, she’ll find every excuse possible to find him and give him a hug, which he’ll always accept even though she jokingly warns him shes sweaty and gross

And eventually they are special best friends and it brings them instant joy to see each other and theyre able to interact for no reason other than that they want to and like each other

(And then they kiss)

[negasonicimagines]

Revelation; Part One

warnings/kinks: a/b/o (if you’re penis-repulsed this isn’t for you), smut (duh), brief daddy kink, even briefer mommy kink, cum-eating, cum-marking, cockwarming? (does it count if it’s a/b/o?), light bloodplay, borderline somniphilia (consensual), poisoning, suicidal ideation, allusions to cheating, mentions of conversion therapy, vague mentions of s*xual ass*ult (it doesn’t actually happen in the story, it’s just referred to a lot due to the nature of this universe)

uh… this is another one of those stories that’s just kinda Heavy, please be careful & don’t continue reading if doing so is unsafe for you. I have a variety of other works that don’t have such intense themes, which you can find on my masterlist!

request (+details): Omegaverse: Alphas Yukio and Ellie with a beta reader, but it turns out that reader is a late-bloomer omega who goes into her first heat unexpectedly. / Omegaverse: The setting could be anywhere. The three of them waking up with reader burning hot, believing to be sick but is actually going into heat. The reader could be by themselves when it happens and her alphas come home to a omega in heat / I can’t get this omegaverse idea out of my head, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. Reader being alone and confused when her heat came, her alphas gone on a mission. During the time they were gone, Reader made a nest of her alphas’s clothes out of instinct on their bed. By the time Yukio and Ellie returned, Reader is a hot mess from trying to get off, moaning their names and begging for her alphas to help her for she don’t know why she feels like this and is scared.)

synopsis: After Wade discovers you're dealing with suicidal thoughts, he takes it upon himself to help you out, leading to one disaster after another.

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this for spending so much time with me & making sure everything was juuuust right! Fun fact: we pined, started dating, and broke up, started dating again, and broke up again all before this was published 🙃 sorry everybody, it’s been a rocky road for the past… forever.

Standing guard after school for a few extra bucks is a pretty sweet deal, you have to admit. You mostly just sit around with a pair of binoculars munching on your snack of choice, using a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts to drop anyone who threatens the safety of the school and its residents. If given permission, or an order to do so, you can use your bow and arrow to really take down your enemies.

You’re pretty lucky in life overall, you also have to admit, with two alpha girlfriends and a variety of friends and acquaintances, not to mention the advantages your mutation gives you.

It makes you feel even more guilty for what you’re really thinking about right now. Not Ellie, not Yukio, not keeping an eye out for threats, nothing but a simple question:

Would it be more efficient to slit your wrists with the point of one of your arrows, or to fling yourself from the top of this turret? Which would hurt worse? You look from the sharp arrow you hold in your hand to the plush grass below, managed by some of the other students.

It’s far cheaper to pay students to maintain the yard and house, not to mention it gives students like you a way of earning the kind of spending money that other students receive from their parents or from jobs in town. Your post would be snatched up in no time if you were to pass.

Speaking of parents.

Your father’s exact words to your mother were “I hate that you use a highschool mistake to keep me trapped with you forever!” the last time you happened to hear them argue. They were no longer invited to parent-teacher conferences after that.

It’s a fine reason for him to be angry, but, unfortunately, you’re the highschool mistake he was talking about. The one he’s always talking about whenever they fight. Maybe if you were gone, he’d finally be free. Maybe you’d finally be free from his resentment. He, fortunately enough, rarely lashes out at you directly; however… There’s always been a distance.

Would he love you more if you were gone? If you saved him from… Well, you? You’ve always wanted him to love you, to look at you with something other than anger or resentment. Would he finally be proud of you, for owning up to every horrible thing you are and have done by paying the ultimate price? Would everyone?

You’re holding the bladed tip of the arrow right against your wrist, almost like a normal person might hold a bracelet to their wrist -- trying it on for size, without really thinking about it.

Suddenly, though, Wade’s here. And he’s definitely thinking about it. He yanks the arrow out of your hand, accidentally snapping the wood that makes up its length.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I- Uh, I don’t know,” you mumble, embarrassed, because you honestly don’t. Being alone with your thoughts gives them the space to grow from their poisoned roots into something dark you don’t really recognize as yours.

“You- You don’t know?!” Wade questions, and the unusual severity of his tone stuns you to the point of laughter. “This isn’t fucking funny, what the hell is wrong with you? Why were you-?! What were you-?! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m standing guard. What the fuck are you doing?” you echo dryly, resorting to quips to avoid telling him any more than he already knows.

“I’m freaking out! I can’t kill you for apparently wanting to kill you, so that’s all I can do! I thought you were on antidepressants!”

“I am. Have been for years. They don’t cure depression, they make it easier to manage.”

“Apparently fucking not! Come on, let’s go talk to somebody and get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. You’ve been on the same prescription all these years, right? Maybe you just need your dosage upped.” Wade’s not asking, he’s telling, his hand wrapped around your bicep to pull you along, although his grip isn’t as tight as you’d expect for a man of his stature, let alone an alpha.

Why does he care so much? He’s always so gentle, even when you piss him off like this. Tears well up in your eyes but you blink hard. You know he’s been through worse. That most people here have. You have no right to cry.

Wade yells at a surprised Charles Xavier until an appointment is set up, which goes pretty well. Four days after that incident, you meet with the psychiatrist who agrees that upping your dosage is the smartest decision, frankly, she’s surprised it wasn’t done sooner. And, after about a week of your new dosage level, you’re feeling better than ever.

Way better.

“You… You’d really wanna do that? For everyone to know I’m yours?”

Ellie nods, cheeks darkened. You’re straddling her, and the two of you have been trading heated kisses with Yukio. Who would’ve thought more of the medication you were sure killed your libido before you could even develop one would be what rescued it?

“Of course we would. I know you don’t like to stereotype, but some of the stereotypes have truth to them. We’re… Territorial,” Yukio reminds you.

“I’m… A beta,” you remind her in a teasing echo of her tone.

“Our beta,” Ellie cuts back in. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Even if I’d rather not let you guys, y’know…” Your hand rubs at the space between your neck and your shoulder - where they’d likely mark you with their teeth - nervously. “...today? Or go farther than what we’re doing right now?”

“Of course, baby! The fact that you’ve even done this much…” Yukio trails off, looking over you. Your lips are swollen and still slightly parted as you continue to pant a little. The top few buttons of your (well, borrowed from Ellie) flannel are undone.

“We’re so grateful, and so proud of you,” Ellie continues, drawing your attention back to her. “We’re willing to wait as long as you need, even if that waiting only ends because you’ve decided that being with us like that isn’t something you want.”

“I do. I always have, I just… I don’t know.”

“The feeling’s still there, in your stomach, right?” Yukio wonders.

“Yeah, a little. It’s like… I know it’s not wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe I should just try to ignore it, I mean, you two have needs-”

“Hey. You know better than that, Y/N. We don’t, okay, babe? Not like that. We wanna have sex with you, not- Not hurt you. You understand that, right?” Ellie reassures you.

“I do, I just feel bad for being such a- I don’t know, a tease?”

“We love you. As in, you. If you forced yourself to do something you didn’t want to, just for us, how would we forgive ourselves?” Yukio says what she’s said a million times, but every time it surprises you. You tend to see yourself as only being valuable in what you can offer others— protection, a laugh, some good advice every now and then —you never expect anyone to care for you outside of that. But here they are. Absolutely perfect.

And you were thinking of flinging yourself off a tower a couple weeks ago. Should you tell them? They just think you went for an overdue checkup, which is technically the case. You don’t know what’s worse, hiding it or telling them. You’ll have to talk to Wade, he’s good at giving advice. Might not be good advice, but he’s definitely good at giving it.

“Everything okay, sharpshooter?” Ellie hands gently squeeze your hips to get your attention.

You blink back out of your thoughts, smiling a little and blushing at the nickname.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I just zoned out. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everything okay?” your alphas ask, again, in unison. Your alphas. They probably couldn’t handle it if you had a problem they couldn’t solve, the guilt of not being able to provide for you would overwhelm them.

“Yeah, totally,” you reply, because it is, now, especially here with them. Ellie starts to button up your flannel.

“Oh, we don’t have to-”

Ellie gives you a pointed look, then looks down at her crotch, then back up at you. Your blush deepens.

“Yeah, I’m guessing a cold shower’s in order,” Yukio agrees. “El, you can go first.”

“We can’t go together?” Ellie asks.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave Y/N alone. Our brave little beta did a lot more than usual. Don’t want you to feel used, baby,” Yukio explains to you both.

“Oh, duh,” Ellie agrees. You give her a quick smooch on the forehead before dismounting her and allowing yourself to be pulled into Yukio’s arms. Ellie grabs some clean clothes and heads off. As soon as the door shuts, Yukio giggles, and you look to her with a curious, confused expression.

“Now you’re all mine to cuddle.” Yukio gloats, kissing the top of your head. “Mm… You smell really good, babe. New shampoo?”

“Ish, yeah,” you agree, despite the fact that you started using it nearly a month ago at this point. Maybe the body heat you built up from the makeout session made it smell stronger, though.

Yukio keeps sniffing you, but you don’t call her out on it. She’s a little bit quirky, sure, but there’s no need to make her feel self-conscious about it when the tickling sensation feels kinda nice. She tosses in a few soft presses of her lips against your skin, too, so it’s not like she’s the only one who benefits.

Yukio eventually stops this, though, instead requesting to scent you. You’ve told the girls before that they don’t have to ask, but they— especially Yukio —seem to prefer to. You figure it’s likely to reassure them that you not only tolerate but appreciate their alphahood.

“I love you, you know that? Not just ‘cause you make me smell like petrichor. I’m surprised Ellie doesn’t spend all day huffing your scent, I… I know I would, if I could smell it.” You didn’t mean for the sad envy to ring so clearly in your words, but it’s as sharp as a knife, cutting deep enough to make Yukio gasp softly with sympathy as she rubs your wrist against her scent gland, eyes snapping open.

“Well, next time it’s about to rain, we’ll go outside, then. Every time it’s about to rain,” Yukio insists. “Who- Who told you?”

“Wade. I was just curious. He said Ellie smells like a campfire, the scent even clings like it. He even said I smell a little weird. Most betas smell like something, but I’m just… A blank canvas.”

You feel her rumble a bit with a growl, and her arms wrap tightly around you… Protectively? You blush.

“Y-Yukio?” you nervously ask, caught off guard. Ellie’s usually more of the growling type. Yukio’s pretty good about keeping her possessiveness and any other “negative” alpha traits in check. This side of her doesn’t come out often.

“What was he doing that close to you?” she snarls protectively, and if the growl wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, that was. “Sm- Smelling you?”

“Yukes, Wade’s the same age as my parents. Honestly, he’s- He’s kinda- He’s nice to me. We’re friends. I think if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it by now. You two keep forgetting I’m just a beta. No one wants a piece of this pie except for you and Ellie.”

“You’d be surprised at the way some alphas… It’s sick, but they- Because betas, you know, they don’t really produce slick like omegas do, and they don’t have quite as much give, uh… So, some alphas, um, they… Just let me hold you, okay?” Yukio requests. “I can’t talk about it, it’ll make me too mad.”

“I respect that. Thank you. I, uh, I didn’t realize that at all, so thank you for helping me be even safer,” you reassure her. She’s trembling. “Do you want me to hold you, instead?”

“No, no, this will make me feel better. I just… I love you. Can you just…? Just- Just say you’re mine.” This is a request Yukio has semi-often. When she feels weak in comparison to other alphas, when she feels overshadowed by Ellie, any time she needs reassurance or is just feeling bad, she’ll probably ask. You get it, being hers (and Ellie’s, of course) makes you feel better, too.

“I’m yours, Yukio. Always yours. You make me so happy, both of you. Happier than- You make me feel so-“ You get a bit choked up. These girls, these alphas… They’re so important to you.

“Oh, no, baby, please don’t cry,” Yukio implores, watching your eyes water. You turn so that your face doesn’t just rest on her chest but is buried in it.

“It’s just that no one ever loved me before you two. No one, ever. Not my parents, not my ’friends,’ no one. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately, I’m sorry.”

“No one at all?” Yukio questions, but that’s the missing puzzle piece, she realizes. You’re always treating hers and Ellie’s love for you like it’s something you have to earn, no matter how much they insist being yourself is enough. She fully grasps now that it’s never been enough before.

She holds you even tighter.

“Mm-mm,” you confirm, shaking your head a little. “You and Ellie just mean the whole world to me. And- And… Wade’s my friend, too. Can I still, y’know, spend time with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just- He’s a nice guy, but… I don’t want him to put you in danger. You can handle yourself, though. Can’t you, sharpshooter?” Her fingers trickle up your ribs as she says the nickname, making you giggle and squirm.

“Absolutely, but it is nice to have two strong, sexy alphas take care of me instead every now and then,” you admit, albeit a bit teasingly, blushing softly. You turn back so that you can see her adorable face.

“Really?” Yukio asks, but she knows.

“Really,” you agree with a smile.

“I’m yours, too. You know that, right?” Yukio checks, fiddling with your hair a bit.

“Mhm. It’s nice to hear you say it like that, though.”

“I can think of other ways you might like to hear it,” Yukio flirts.

“Yeah, you think so? Show me,” you tease back.

“I will…” Yukio trails off as she trails her finger along your jaw, tipping your head up to the perfect kissing angle and- “Eventually, little beta.”

“I- I’m taller than you,” you weakly protest.

“Your breath still hitched,” Yukio reminds you with a giggle and a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

You stutter a little more before giving up, burying your face again and whining.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just can’t help myself. You’re too cute,” Yukio half-heartedly apologizes, still chuckling to herself as she strokes your back.

Ellie returns from her shower, inky tendrils of hair ruffled around but with no product in.

“She’s asleep?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit disappointed, but there’s still a significant amount of fondness in her tone.

“She’s not,” you mumble back, and both girls chuckle, Yukio untangling herself from you. You can’t help but pout a little, already missing the bubblegum-haired alpha.

“I know Yukio’s your favorite, but you could at least act a little bit happy to see me,” Ellie half-jokes, and you smile, pulling (though she doesn’t give any resistance) the girl back into your bed. She holds you the same way Yukio did, but you don’t really mind the lack of variety.

“You’re both my favorite,” you argue. Ellie takes a deep breath, likely taking in the way you’re completely embraced by Yukio’s scent.

“I don’t think that’s how favorites work,” she chuckles.

“Out of all the people in the world, you two are both my favorite,” you insist. She takes the hand you have resting on her ribcage and holds it inches from her scent gland. “Please,” you say, before she can even ask. Ellie takes a whiff again.

“Did she leave anywhere untouched?” She wonders.

“N-not really,” you stutter, because now you’re thinking of where she didn’t touch you.

“Well, she’ll have to share a little, then,” Ellie says.

You hum with delight as she scents you.

“You make a new friend?” Ellie questions.

“Huh?”

“You smell… Different,” she responds, looking at you… Well, differently. “Like roses.”

“I have a new-ish shampoo?” You offer, but that just seems to intensify the look.

Your phone rings. It’s Wade. You wriggle out of Ellie’s loose hold on you, answering.

“Hey, you know how I’m your academic advisor?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, apparently, thwarting your suicide attempts isn’t my only job. I also have to tell you when they need you in the office, which is now.”

“Seriously?! I didn’t even throw that pencil at Richard, and even if I did, he deserved it for being such a-“

“Oh, right! Should’ve opened with the good news. Your parents are here to visit.”

“What?! That’s-“ You sigh, not wanting to alarm Ellie any more than you already have. “Okay. I’ll be there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”

“Wow, no shame at all. I salute you. Toodles!” Wade hangs up before you realize he misunderstood you.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks.

“Nothing, just… My parents are here.”

“Your… Parents?”

“Kind of have to have those to exist, usually,” you remark, and she snorts.

“I know- I- Well, we’ve known each other for a while, and you don’t really talk about them, so I sort of assumed…” Ellie trails off.

“Oh, um, yeah, no, they’re very alive,” you confirm with an awkward chuckle.

“Right. I’ll go get ‘Kio, and we’ll all go, okay?”

“Uh- Um- Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“My parents, they kind of… They- I love you. And I’m not ashamed of you.”

“But they’ll be ashamed of you,” Ellie understands.

“I haven’t seen them in so long, they don’t even know that I like girls, let alone that I’m dating two, or that they’re both alphas… I want you and Yukio to come with me, but, if they start to- If they’re how they are, I-“

“Give my energy to helping you instead of hurting them,” Ellie uses Piotr’s words.

“Perfect,” you agree, and Ellie smiles back, but it falters. You didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I’ll go get Yukio. You get changed, okay?”

“Mhm,” you agree, and she heads off to the bathroom. You steal one of Ellie’s band tees and an oversized cardigan of Yukio’s for comfort, finding a pair of high-waisted bottoms to tuck the tee shirt in. You throw on a pair of sneakers, and when the girls emerge from the bathroom, you pop in to freshen up.

Once you’re done, Yukio’s caught up on the situation and the three of you make your way to the front offices.

Wade meets you outside.

“Oh em gee, Y/N, you’ll never believe it, I actually went to high school with both of your parents.”

“Uh… Cool?” You respond, because you’re not entirely sure how to.

“Yeah, uh, I get now that it’s probably not really good news that they’re here, huh? No wonder I found you doing that the other day.”

“Doing what?” Yukio and Ellie ask, though for some reason, Ellie’s is tinged with suspicion, maybe even anger.

“I- Listen, it’s not a big deal, I got my prescription updated and all that good stuff, okay?” You prime them. “I was thinking about killing myself the other day and Wade caught me.”

“Thinking?! You’re gonna call holding the fucking tip of an arrow to your wrist thinking?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ellie sounds as angry as Wade does, but she looks pained. This is why you didn’t tell them.

“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Yukio argues, but she looks hurt, too.

“I mean, I was just considering if it would be more painful than jumping off of the turret,” you mumble, your defense embarrassingly weak.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ellie decides, and Yukio nods. You three follow Wade to Xavier’s office. Wade breezes in, but you’re practically stuck in the doorway, nervous to look at even the backs of their heads, before they turn around.

“Y/N,” your mom says with a grin, but you know all too well how fake that is. She approaches you, pulls you into a hug, and you want nothing more than to push her away and scrub yourself clean. She doesn’t really love you. The second you speak out of turn, or make a mistake, or give her any excuse, she’ll remind you of your worth. (Or, rather, the lack thereof.)

She slips back into her seat next to your father, in front of the desk where Xavier sits, simply observing.

“It’s been so long,” your father says, but his smile is almost blatantly fake. “Your hair, it’s different.”

“Like you said, it’s been a while,” you say, giving a grimace and an awkward chuckle.

“I don’t think I like it,” he says, like he’s giving his opinion on a sculpture in an art exhibit by some long-dead artist who doesn’t care what he thinks. Like it’s something just… Objective.

“Not sure what to do about that,” you reply sheepishly.

You don’t fully realize that you’re holding Ellie’s hand until she squeezes it reassuringly, three times. A secret code. You step further in to make room for the girls.

“So, uh, I have to ask… Why the sudden visit?”

“Well, we got an e-mail about your medicine, and we wanted to come check on you. Make sure this is the right environment for you,” your mother explains.

“You weren’t sure before you stopped talking to me for two years?” You half-joke, playing dumb.

“Has it really been two years?” A normal person would be asking this rhetorically, and they’d be embarrassed. Your mother, though, is simply trying to gaslight you.

“Longer,” you assure her.

“I thought this place was supposed to provide conversion therapy,” your father says, eyeing your hand, then Ellie’s other hand. “You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses to your mother.

“Wow, maybe my mom dying when I was young was for the best. Better than this for sure,” Wade jokes, gently elbowing your side. You chuckle, grateful for even the slightest ounce of comic relief.

“You’re even more of a freak than you were in high school.” You squeeze Ellie’s hand tight as your father’s expression darkens even further.

“Funny you should say that, considering-“

“Wade,” your mother cuts him off.

That’s weird, to say the least. You just file that away for later. You have bigger fish to fry, like surviving this visit.

“Y/N, why’d you go for a check-up at all? You barely needed the anti-depressants in the first place,” your mother wonders.

“Because it wasn’t barely. Why else would they raise the dosage?” You ask, and the expression on her face is as stupid as the question she asked.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” your father scolds, like he didn’t just call your mother a fucking liar himself. “You are so ungrateful for everything we’ve done for you, do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry, what have you done for her, exactly? Answer quickly, please,” Ellie retorts.

“El-“ you start, but realize this isn’t anger, but advocacy.

“Well, we sheltered and fed her for over a decade,” your father remarks, smirking like he’s won.

“That’s your job!” Wade argues.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N… I politely asked that you refrain from visiting the campus, and while I appreciate your concern for Y/N’s well-being, I must ask that you remain respectful of her, her fellow students, and my staff. Causing unnecessary conflict is exactly the reason you were almost banned when you last visited,” Professor Xavier finally speaks.

“Almost banned?!” Wade wheezes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and Wade’s laughter immediately ceases. “I was cheating in school, according to- To Dad.” The word is poison in your mouth.

“Come on, we all know you’re not smart enough to get those grades on your own. Probably screwing some teacher, just like Mom.”

“That’s enough,” Ellie snarls, eyes glowing orange.

“I never screwed a teacher!” Your mother protests at the same time.

“Oh, that’s right, you just blew Mr. Morin. My bad. Wow, Y/N, you really must be something special for all these alphas to be fawning over you. Maybe I did fuck up once or twice, after all, I’ve heard daddy issues-“

“Well, you visited! Now get the fuck out,” Wade chirps.

“Mr. L/N, must I repeat myself? I know you and Mrs. L/N were interested in a tour. Perhaps a less crowded area would help ease your minds,” Xavier reminds you all of his presence once more.

“That sounds like a great idea,” your father agrees.

“I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, maybe you could show us your room first and I could lie down for a bit in there?”

“I-“ You look to the girls, not wanting them to have to deal with her alone.

“Actually, Miss Phimister and Miss Kitsuna would be perfect additions to a rescue team. The orphanage your friend Russell came from was actually part of a network for mutant trafficking, and we found another hub in Maine. The jet takes off in fifteen minutes, and you two will be back in time for dinner. Better get ready and briefed.”

“But-“ Yukio starts, looking to you.

“Go, be superheroes,” you tell them, and they head out. “Uh, how about we swing by the library first, to give them time to change, and then to our room?”

“You share a room with them? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“We were roommates before we started dating,” you correct him.

“Dating… Aw, I bet you really think that’s what it is, too. Having parents in a sham of a marriage really did a number on you, huh?” Your father condescends.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up how fixated you are on her sexuality. Do you like to picture it, you goddamn creep?” Wade defends you, and your skin crawls. You’d never thought of it that way before.

“Let’s just get that tour started, ‘kay?” You squeak. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner they’ll be on their way, hopefully.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Wade says. “Come on, Textbook, let’s go.”

“You didn’t just call me-“

“Oh, but I did, Textbook. Hey, Y/N, did you know that was your dad’s nickname in highschool? ‘Cause he was so fuckin’ easy to shove in a locker.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh and failing.

“Just show us the library already, Y/N,” your mother says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You take your parents to the library, as requested. Wade keeps pace with you while your parents fall back. You can’t hear their exact words, but you know your parents are bickering.

“You never said it was this bad.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s definitely been worse,” you admit, busying your eyes with the paintings that line the walls so that you don’t have to meet Wade’s gaze. You might just cry if you do; you can feel the sympathy radiating off of him.

In these past few months, Wade’s been more of a father than your dad, even more of a mother than your mom, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel more justified in how you feel about your parents. In fact, it just makes you feel worse, and even if you’ve never actually expressed it, you’re still ashamed of the fact that you wish Wade was your father instead. He actually cares, while your parents are simply legally obligated.

From the day you met, Wade’s always been there for you. If you were to tell your parents what you almost did the other day, they’d just call you attention-seeking and insult you in other ways. All they’d do is make you want to try again.

You and Wade stop at the entrance to the library and wait for your parents to catch up. They do, and you open the double doors to reveal the room.

“It’s like Beauty and the Beast,” your mother gapes.

“I thought so, too,” you agree, attempting a smile, but your parents just ignore you, wandering around the large room. Your mother excuses herself after a few minutes of spinning, saying that the dizziness is making her headache worse.

“All these books and you’re still… The way you are,” your father comments, looking at you with such disdain.

“Winner of the science fair with her loving partners, three years in a row?” Wade questions. “Oh, or maybe you’re talking about the fact that she’s a published poet. How embarrassing for you, I’m sure.”

“Wade,” you protest under your breath, embarrassed. They don’t even know that stuff. After middle school, you stopped telling them about your accomplishments. You figured out that all they’d do is ruin them for you.

“No, no, trust me. It’s more about the fact that she’s slutting around with alphas and won’t even save us the embarrassment of them being girls,” you father spats.

“That’s enough,” Wade snarls.

“Oh, that’s right, we can’t forget that she’s yours, too. I guess anything with a dick is daddy considering I was too busy putting food on the table to play dollies,” he remarks, and you suddenly feel light-headed.

“Seriously, Textbook, I really don’t want to hurt you, especially not in front of Y/N, but I fucking will if you make me.”

“Just go,” you urge Wade, starting to feel a bit dizzy, surely from the stress. You brace yourself on him, disguising it as a touch meant to comfort him. He looks concerned as the edges of your vision start to darken a little.“I- What you’re doing, I appreciate it, but-“

“You appreciate it? You appreciate him disrespecting me, disrespecting our family?!”

“Our family?!” You finally snap. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you couldn’t do that. You just couldn’t. And now we’re a family?! No. No, you…” You start to pant, your face feeling even hotter than before. “You… I hate you,” you manage to get out before your world goes completely dark.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N! I’m so prou-“

But when Wade turns to you, you’re halfway to the ground. He catches you, though, and he catches a whiff of something… Familiar.

Lavender. It’s not just the Wilson scent, sure, but it’d be too much of a coincidence. You smell just like him. You are him, or, rather, made of him.

He’s torn between ecstatic and furious.

“Hey, can we get some help over here?” your father calls out to no one. It’s not a school day, and lots of students are out on missions. He reaches out to you for once in your life, but Wade’s now sitting on the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“No,” Wade argues. “Not yours. Mine.”

“What?” You father asks incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s. Not. Yours,” Wade repeats, and the more he inhales your scent, the more out of control yet calm he feels. Like he’s in the eye of a hurricane. “My baby. Mine.”

“You’re not saying…” your father trails off as Wade gets up, still cradling you. Wade has to take you to your room; help make you a nest, now. He can smell it on you.

You’re in heat.

He gets to your room quickly, practically tossing you onto your bed. Wait… Isn’t your mom supposed to be here?

And that’s when he hears the sound of pills spilling onto the floor.

He nearly rips the bathroom door off of its hinges. Luckily, your mother spilled what Wade quickly realizes is suppressants, and not your prescription.

“You. You could’ve killed her. You are very, very lucky that my baby-“

“Our baby,” your mother corrects.

“No, you take pills, you can’t even smell her, let alone feel her like I can. It- It’s so much it fucking hurts. I’ll say it again, you’re very lucky my baby is in heat, or your arteries would be emptying in that shower. Now, go. Don’t come back.”

You groan in pain, stirring, and your mother takes Wade’s advice. Wade calls Yukio. Then Ellie. Then Yukio. Then Ellie.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“You need to turn around. Now. I don’t have the time to explain. It’s Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” Ellie, always skeptical, asks.

“Obviously fucking not, or I wouldn’t be calling. She’s in heat.”

“But-“

“I said that I don’t have time to explain, fucking turn around! I’m on the verge of going fucking feral, Ellie. You both need to get here, now.”

“Wade, get out,” Ellie immediately demands.

“I can’t,” he admits.

“Get out! Shit, Wolverine! We need to turn around!”

“I can’t. It’s not like that I swear, it’s… I’m going fucking crazy, just one of you will do, but someone needs to get here.”

“Wade, go.”

“I would never hurt her! Come home!” Wade barks before hanging up. He returns to your room to find you’ve made a nest instinctively - thank goodness for Yukio’s affinity for pillows and blankets - and now you’re curled up in pain in the center of it.

“Wade,” you whimper. He’s scared to step closer, not sure if he’s what you want, even if you despise who you thought was your father. “What’s happening to me? Everything hurts.”

“I really don’t know how to say this, but… You’re in heat.”

“But I’m a beta,” you argue, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s what we all thought. But… Remember how you didn’t smell like anything before? Uh, let me start over. When did you start on your anti-depressants?”

“I was about twelve,” you confirm, not sure what that means.

“Yeah, I think those were suppressants. That it’s always been suppressants, no matter what the bottles said. Until you got a prescription without your mother knowing. Do you understand why your mother would do that?”

You shake your head, and he approaches the bed, sitting down carefully as not to disturb your work.

“Her boyfriend around the time she got pregnant with you was a beta. We know him as Textbook,” Wade teases, before continuing: “But, what no one realizes is that he was at Niagara Falls on spring break around the time when you were conceived, and she was hanging out with her next-door neighbor the whole time. Her next-door neighbor was me.”

“Oh, so I’m your highschool mistake,” you say, connecting the dots.

“Huh?”

“Ha, well, whenever my parents- Well, I guess not my parents, but that’s beside the point, uh, whenever they argue and it gets really bad, my father- Well, not my father, but, uh-“

“Continue,” Wade urges.

“Basically, sometimes he uses ‘a mistake I made in highschool’ as code for ‘Y/N,’” you explain. “But the truth is, I’m the mistake you made in highschool.”

“You’re not a mistake,” he disagrees. “You’re- You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Lots of things are made by accident, but that doesn’t make them mistakes! Penicillin, potato chips, Post-It notes, popsicles! They were never supposed to exist but they do and the world is much better off with them in it.”

“You really do have a lot of useless knowledge,” you realize.

“So do you, that’s why our team always wins trivia night.” Wade slips off his boots, joining you in your rearranged bed. “C’mere,” he suggests, guiding your head to his neck.

“S’really you,” you mumble, already weary, and Wade worries for what’s to come. He almost doesn’t even want to let the girls in. He could get you pain medicine, he could probably even find sedatives. Then no one would ever be able to even touch you, let alone hurt you. “Lavender. You never mentioned the lavender, just the sandalwood.”

“I didn't think you’d be impressed,” Wade admits.

“It’s relaxing,” you tell him. “It’s nice to have things in common with someone.”

“You smell like roses, too, not just lavender,” he makes sure you know.

“Yeah, but I think that’s mostly concentrated in an area I’d rather not discuss with you.”

“Well, just make sure that if you do decide to do anything more with them than cuddle, which I can gladly go through the rest of my life without knowing, bee-tee-dubs, that the girls are wearing alpha condoms, especially if one of them knots you. Standard condoms work in a pinch if it’s just for one, y’know, go, but for heats they’re basically useless because of everything I just said. If they hurt you, I will make their deaths look like accidents.”

“S’not like I can get pregnant anyway…” You mumble, embarrassed. “I’m- I’m really glad it’s you. I- I wished so many times that it was you instead of him. Ow, ugh, that one was bad,” you groan, massaging your stomach.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Ellie is furious with herself.

“Yukio, you don’t get it, I smelled her. She smelled like an omega, but I thought- I assumed she was cheating on us. That maybe she didn’t want to be with us like that was because she wanted to- I don’t know, to be on top? It seems so stupid now.”

“Hey, I noticed she smelled different, too. There were other signs we both missed, anyways. Think about how emotional she’s been lately, or how much farther we’ve been going in other ways. How clingy she’s been, too.”

“I guess I didn’t really notice it because I liked her being more open and needing us more,” Ellie admits. “She- She almost fucking killed herself. And I thought cheating was what she was hiding. I- I just-“

“You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Yukio insists. “We’re on our way back, and Wade’s there to protect her.”

Speaking of Wade being there to protect you, he continues to comfort you as the pain gets worse.

“S’too hot,” you complain, and he releases you from his hold, rising from the bed. He knows he’ll have to leave you soon, because you’re likely going to need privacy before the girls get home, but it’s hard to part from you knowing you’re in pain.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And after that, I’m just gonna stand guard outside the door until your girls get here. I know there’s some stuff you need to do, and that’s only gonna get worse.”

“It’s already awful,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Good luck, kid. I love you.”

Wade gets a case of bottled water from the school’s industrial-sized pantry, bringing it to your room and tearing it open for you before leaving once more. You take one, immediately guzzling it down.

In privacy, you take off Yukio’s cardigan and your bottoms, leaving you in Ellie’s tee shirt and your underwear. You decide to go ahead and free yourself from the constriction that is your bra, feeling a bit embarrassed that you’re not leaving much to the girls’ imagination for your first time together. You eventually decide to undress completely, wondering when the hell your girls are gonna get here.

[yungbud]

Hi my love! When you have time could you write an fluffy & smutty imagine where the reader gets insecure & worries or compares themselves to Ashley? (Halsey) & Dom finds out & shows the reader how much they mean to him & how much he loves them daddy kink in there with the smut please & a lot of praise & saying "I'll take care of you pretty girl" 🥺

Word count:4.1k

TW?: mostly angst and fluff, but mentions of daddy kink and adult themes obviously its smut.

A/n: anything for you my lil nugget 🥺 Smut is at the bottom you horny cunts. I hope it was everything you wanted and more <33

*rewrite

You knew better. Unfortunately, you were self destructive and couldn't help yourself. It was 3AM and Dom was fast asleep beside you, and had been for hours. You, however, had chosen to watch a video before bed. It was titled “Yungblud being cute for 6 minutes straight.”, but of course one video turned to five or six more, until eventually you came along another video. This one was called “Halsey and yungblud cute moments.” and the cover photo was of them in onesies, one of Dom's arms wrapped around her and the other holding the camera. You could feel the pit begin to grow in your stomach. Glancing over at Dom to check he was still asleep, you pressed play on the video, flipping over so you were facing him, so that if he did wake up he wouldn’t see what was on the screen.

It was ridiculous, honestly. How could you be jealous of her when you were the one laying right next to him. It broke your heart the way he looked at her, you couldn’t help but wonder... is that how he looks at you? Why would he? She’s so beautiful, look at jawline, look at those eyes and her voice. Oh god... her voice, she's a musician. You loved music, but you had never been musically inclined and at best you could go hard on the triangle. But her, she understood it all, down to the tour life. When he was overwhelmed with work or couldn’t find a melody, she could help, when he didn’t know how to deal with all the attention, she could help. She was like the perfect mentor/ girlfriend combo. She connected with him in ways you would never be able to. She got it.

Your finger hovered over part 2 of the video, a moment of hesitation before pressing it. You tapped twice more to skip past the person's intro, wasting no time in getting to the painful stuff. 

One of the first clips was Halsey talking about the night they met. You knew it was unhealthy, but you couldn’t look away. She described it so beautifully, taking a moment to mention that of course she would because she's a writer and that's how she saw the world, her world was so beautiful. Dom deserved to live in her world. 

She went on to say that they had met up in a bar to chat, to which you remembered why. It wasn’t a coincidence, Dom liked her music. He looked up to her. Just another way you could never be who he needed. 

You couldn’t help it. He’d made the trade down of the century and everyone knew it. You paused the video momentarily, subduing the verbal attack on your ears and laying your phone down on your chest. Heavy breaths slid past your lips as you tried to calm yourself from a full blown breakdown.

 You glanced once more over at Dom, ensuring he was asleep before letting a single tear slip down your face. You used the blanket to wipe it away, basking in the shitty feeling you had created for yourself. You decided that was enough of that, shutting off your phone and plugging it up for the night. After laying there silently for a moment you scooted a bit away from Dom. 

You didn’t really feel like being held by him tonight.

----

The first thought in your head the next morning was of the events of last night, the same shitty feeling digging itself into the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck.” You sighed

“Sorry, I was borrowing one of Dom’s shirts. I didn’t mean to wake you.”  You turned your head to acknowledge the presence in the room. It was Tom, bent over and digging through a pile of Dom’s clothes.

“All good.” You murmured, flipping onto your stomach and burying your face in the pillow. It smelled like Dom.

Soon after you heard the door shut behind Tom as he left, your head lifting from the pillow. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t really feel like being around Dom today. You couldn’t get past the feeling that he was ultimately worse off with you, that he had settled for less.

You hated the way you felt, your face drooping back into the pillow in an attempt to hide and ended up dozing off, the late night pity marathon catching up with you.

About an hour later you were awoken to Dom’s lips on your forehead. Your eyes met momentarily as you blinked the sleep out of them, reaching upwards in a stretch.

“ ‘ello sleepy head.” Dom says, planting another kiss, this time to your nose. You roll over, replanting your face in the pillow once again, “Are you going back to sleep?” He asks

“Tired.” You mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow.

“It’s 1pm.” no response “How late did you stay up last night?” He asks, laying his head on the pillow next to yours. You shrugged.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” You shifted your head so that you were looking at him, cheek still pressed softly against your pillow “Are you feeling a bit sick? Is it cramps? I can make you a cup of tea and get you some pain killers.” He continued, offering to help you in any way he could. He just wanted to know what was wrong with you, so he could help you. He hated the idea of you up in bed all alone feeling ill. He considered skipping the studio today, he was already cutting it close on time.

“No, I feel fine. Just need a nap. I must’ve stayed up later than I realized, s’all.” You knew you needed to tell him. Every silent moment was filled with you trying to convince yourself to just say something to him. Just talk about it. Just let him in.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be out of the house at the studio, but Tom and Adam are here if you need them. I’ll tell them to be quiet so you can get some rest.” You smiled in response, your eyes closing as he rubbed his thumb lovingly against your cheek “Hey, I love you.” he says, your eyes opening as you mumbled back an I love you of your own, your lips meeting in a chaste kiss before he stood back up and slipped out the door.

As much as you would’ve loved to, you didn’t sleep at all after he left. Tom and Adam had made good on their promise to stay quiet, but it didn’t make much of a difference when that little voice in your head wouldn’t shut up. You opted for distracting yourself with your phone, scrolling through instagram and hoping the memes would brighten your mood. For the most part they did, acting as a simple distraction. 

Once you felt a bit better, you decided part of the reason you felt so bad today and last night was partially due to the fact that you hadn’t had anything to eat. You went to the kitchen to prepare yourself lunch, hearing Tom and Adam talking quietly in the other room.

While you were preparing your food you accidentally bumped into a stack of dirty dishes that had built up in the kitchen. You didn’t see what happened and when you turned to check nothing looked broken, but it was loud.

“Y/n?” Tom asks, tilting his head to get a better look into the kitchen.

“Hm?” You respond after a few moments of quiet deliberation. You weren’t exactly ready to be observed as awake, but you didn’t have any other choice, besides blaming it on an intruder who broke in with the intent of stealing the beloved orange tree outside, but when they arrived in the kitchen and were met with such a disgraceful mess decided they had no choice but to clean up after us. Of course, that might have stirred up a bit of a panic. They loved that orange tree, after all.

“Oh you’re finally up. Are you feeling alright? Dom said he thought you maybe came down with something.” Adam says

“I’m alright, thanks for asking. I’m just making myself lunch.”

“Come sit with us while you eat. We’re playing uno.” Tom invites. When you’re done making yourself food, you decide maybe it would be best to join them. It’s not good for your mental health to be stuffed up in your room pitying yourself all day.

You sat with your food in front of you, watching silently as they played.

“You wanna be dealt in the next round? It’s more fun with three players.” Tom offers, you give him a nod in response as your mouth is full of food. As you nod, Adam plays a red six, which ultimately leads to his demise as Tom then plays three red draw 2’s, stopping Adams hand as he goes to pick up and continuing to lay a red skip, then a yellow one, changes the color back to red and ends on his own red 3. You all laughed as Adam was absolutely massacred, almost choking on your lunch.

“There ain’t no coming back from that. Just tap out man.” You say through your laughter, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Adam. You all had small conversation as you finished your lunch, but soon you were done and the cards were passed out.

After a game or two, the round was paused as Adam stood up to get himself a glass of water, Tom and you shouting out your own drink orders from your place in the living room. By the time Adam was back at the table the running conversation had died down a bit. You began to think about why you’d been in bed all day, and the fact that Dom still attributed it to a small sickness. You felt the insecurity growing inside you once again, and you finally decided to talk about it.

“Did you guys like Ashley?” You ask, as inconspicuously as you could manage.  You watch as they glance at each other, taking a sip of your drink to occupy your mouth.

“Yeah, she was cool,” Tom says, Adam nodding in confirmation “Why?”

“Just curious, I guess. Did you guys ever hang out?” You tried to play it off as casual conversation, but you got the feeling they were picking up on the fact that there was something more under the surface.

“Not really. Not without Dom, even then it was rare. Who’s turn was it?” Tom continued, feeding into your curiosity while trying to maintain the card game.

“Yours, I think.” You paused for a moment, thinking of your next question “Do you think she was better for him than I am?” Your eyes met with Tom’s as the words left your mouth. He stayed silent for a moment and you couldn’t tell what the emotion on his face was. It felt weird, confiding in your boyfriend’s friends. Usually you could tell what your friends were thinking, or have an idea about what they might say, but you didn’t know these two like that.

“Like how?” He asked, nodding towards you to silently mention it was your turn.

“I dunno, they have the same career.” they let out a small laugh at that.

“She knows how to play a guitar so she loves him more?” Adam says

“Well, no, but…” you tried to remember what you were anxious about “she gets it. She knows what it's like to be on the road all the time and not see your family, she knows about the mental toll being in the public eye has and how to deal with it, she knows how to help if he’s nervous about performing.”

“What makes you assume that?” Tom asks

“She’s been doing it so long.”

“Well, yeah, but knowing how to do that isn’t a part of the job description. It’s less about knowing how to be famous and more about knowing the person you’re with. If it was about that, most people in Dom’s life don't get it. But we get Dom, and that’s what he cares about. You get him, so you have nothing to worry about.” Tom says softly. He made a surprisingly good therapist. 

You nodded, picking up 4 cards and sorting through them in your hand.

“But that doesn't mean you get to hide in your room cause you’re insecure. Just cause we’re talking about it doesn’t mean you don’t still need to tell him.” Tom continues, his chin resting in his hand as he looks at you.

“Yeah, of course.” You agree

~~~

You could hear Dom the second he walked in the house, engaging in a small conversation with the boys before making his way up the stairs. You heard his footsteps trail down the hallway and eventually meet your bedroom door, your eyes closing as you listened to it creak open.

“Love? Are you up?” Dom whispered, shutting the door softly behind him. You remained silent, trying to regulate your breathing like that of someone who’s asleep. He sighed, which made your heart crumple a bit. You wondered if you should respond, he might’ve had a hard day, but the nerves took over and you remained silent. 

“You’re still sleeping?” He asked, partially to himself, before exiting the room once more. You could hear him talking with Tom from outside the door.

“Has Y/N been asleep all day?”

“Uh, no. She came out and ate lunch and played uno with us around 2. Is she asleep now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

You planned on talking it out with him, and up until he walked into the house you were, but you were suddenly overcome with intense nerves and all you wanted to do was hide.  You figured you would get a good night's rest and talk it out with him in the morning, that way if it went badly he would be out for most of the day at the studio and you wouldn’t have to sit in awkward silence as you tried to sleep.

He entered the room once again, stripping himself of his clothes as he preferred to sleep half naked, before joining you in bed. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you into him and wrapping you both in the blankets. Flipping over to face him, you nuzzled closer into his arms.

“Y/N?” He asks again, shifting to see if you’re awake. You hum in response this time, curious as to what he might have to say.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, his hand returning to your cheek as it was this morning. You nod, letting out a small, genuine yawn as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

“How was your day?” You ask, shifting the conversation. 

“It was good. We finally got that song done, I think i’m gonna play with it a bit more tomorrow though. It’s good but I think it could be better.”

“You always think it can be better.”

“It always can.” He states simply, making you smile. You loved that about him, his pure determination and dedication to his craft. It can always be better.

“How was your day? Tom said you guys played a bit of uno, who won?”

“It was alright. Yeah, him and Adam were playing when I came down so I decided to join them. I think overall it was probably Tom though, I think he was cheating.” Dom laughed a little at the claim, brushing his fingers through your mess of a hair.

“So...” You began, needing to get a word out so you wouldn’t bail on talking about this. God, you hated confrontation. Especially when it was about something you were feeling. 

Dom hummed in response, the gentle reminder to continue breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I wasn’t sick today.”

“No?” He encouraged

“No. I was a bit tired though. But, that wasn’t the problem. I was watching youtube last night and I came across a video someone made. It was, like, a compilation of cute moments or whatever so I watched it cause it was cute. Then I watched another, and a few more, and eventually I came across a video that was called ‘Halsey and YUNGBLUD being soulmates for 3 minutes’... and I watched it.” He lets out a small, quiet snort, not entirely catching onto  the vibe of the conversation.

“Jeez, how do they come up with this shit.” He remarked lovingly

“Heh, yeah. It’s just… I watched it and I saw the way you talked about and looked at her… It just got me thinking, yenno?”

“I don’t. What’d it get you thinkin’ about, beautiful?”

“I just felt like maybe you regretted being with me. Maybe you’re still bummed that you guys broke up and you ended up with me. Like maybe you still miss her.” You admit. It’s silent for a moment as he takes it all in, you almost expect him to confirm your suspicions.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I made you feel like that.” He took a moment to think carefully about his next words “I know it must be hard to hear me talk about someone else like that, you can’t really escape my past relationships because of who I am. I honestly never thought of that. I love you, okay? Not anybody else. Obviously she and I had something, but it’s completely in the past and I don’t regret a thing because it led me to you, and I love you so much. You’re my fookin soulmate, I mean it. I’m not gonna let that slip out of your head ever again.” He said, punctuating it with a passionate kiss.

You expected the kiss to end rather quickly, but it didn’t. It kept going, building in intensity as you scooted closer to one another. 

“I love you.” You whisper, breaking the kiss momentarily

“I love you so much, pretty girl” He responds, his hand coming up to hold your jaw.

“Hmm, show me.” You whisper, pulling him closer. His hand slides down your side and onto your thigh as your lips meet again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling away lightly before indulging in the kiss once again.

Dom’s hands didn’t stay in one place for long, moving about your body as you made out, pausing his actions for a moment to take your shirt off, placing a kiss to each of your breasts before moving his lips up to your neck, leaving little marks for you to find in the morning. A chill ran down your back as he bit down on your ear, his hands massaging your breasts before reaching behind you and unbuckling your bra, throwing it off to the side and shifting his attention to your nipple. Taking it into his mouth, he presses his tongue flat against it as you lie down to give him a better angle.

His tongue flicking against your nipple while his hand plays with your other nipple. He swapped between which he used his mouth on and which he used his hand, making sure to give them both equal attention,  your hands tangling themself into his hair while he did so. When he was satisfied he pulled away, causing you to let out a small whimper as you felt his lips leave you, making their way down your stomach in a series of wet, open mouthed kisses.

When he made it to your underwear he licked a single stripe, taking his his sweet, sweet time. First, kissing his way up one thigh, then back down and ghosting his lips over the area you needed him both, taking a moment to inhale your scent before kissing his way back up the other leg, and right back down. 

“Please.” You whine

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl.” He hushed, pulling your panties down your legs and glancing up at you as he did so, mimicking your pout before placing a chaste kiss on your clit. You leant your head back, closing your eyes as you waited patiently for him to begin. 

He started off slowly, licking up your slit as he took his time with you. Dom loved to use his tongue anytime he could, you loved it too. When he ate you out, it wasn’t just tongue, he made sure to pay attention to your clit and use his fingers when needed but on nights like tonight, where he really wanted to drive you crazy, he made sure to use a lot of tongue.

“You taste so good, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning against you, his hands wrapped around your thighs as he lost himself in you, holding you like if he didn’t you would take his meal away. You tried your best to suppress the moans he was pulling out of you, knowing Adam and Tom were just rooms away. The way he was working you left you wishing you had come to him with this sooner. Your hips came up to meet his actions, your hand placed firmly on the back of his head, pushing him as far into you as he could go, eager to meet your release. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, ride daddy’s face. Let daddy show you how much you mean to him.” He hums, taking a moment to catch his breath. You do as you’re told, the request putting you in anything but a bratty mood. You let out a small moan as he continues his actions, your hips setting the pace.

Once again, it started off slow, until you began to work yourself up. Your hand reached down, tangling itself in his hair once again, tugging as you tried to push yourself further down, your hips speeding up while you bite your tongue to keep down the moans that clawed their way up your throat.

You could feel the pressure building up in your stomach, squeaking out to Dom that you were gonna cum before releasing on his tongue. He let you remain there for a minute, riding out your high while he massaged and kissed your thighs. When you had fully come down you move yourself off his face, making your way down to his bulge where you began to unbutton his pants. His hand quickly came down to stop you.

“Tonight’s supposed to be about you.”

“I wanna make you feel good too.” You say, giving him a small pout. He stops to think for a moment before taking off his pants pulling you over him, giving himself a few painfully slow strokes before slipping himself inside of you. Your hips rocked carefully against him, still sensitive from your last orgasm. His hands continued to massage your hips as you found your pace, finding it harder and harder to remain silent.

“You’re so beautiful, pretty girl. Daddy loves to watch you bounce on his cock.” Dom growls, his hips coming up to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, you give up on holding back your moans at this point as it’s already very obvious to anyone in the house what's happening upstairs. 

The bed was creaking, your skin  slapping together as he thrust into you, unable to cease the  loud moans falling past your lips. Your legs began to shake as you approached your second release. Dom pulls you close, holding you, the gentle gesture in sharp contrast with the way he’s pounding away at you.

“Please can I cum.” You whimper

“One moment,” he interrupted himself with a groan “I wanna cum with ya, love.”

You held on as best you could, melting into his grasp as he worked towards finishing himself off. Soon after he growled a barely audible “Cum.” signifying his release. You moaned against each other, Dom pulling you closer as close wasn’t close enough. He maintained his actions, riding through your orgasm with one hand in your hair and the other lovingly stroking your thigh.

“Daddy’s got you babygirl.” He whispers into your ear, hushing you as you come down from your high.

When you finally felt well enough to sit up, your muscles hurt from the strain so you and Dom decided to have a bath.

He got up to run the bath water just the way you liked it and insisted on carrying you there, because ‘You’re hurtin’ so you can’t walk.’

You didn’t mind, though, laying your head on his shoulder as he carried you princess style into the bathroom. Luckily, the boys were in their rooms with the doors closed, presumably to suppress some of the noise.

The warm watered soothed your aching as you sat with Dom behind you, his wet hands stroking your arms with his head buried in your neck while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

After that night, you didn’t think you’d ever question your relationship with Dom again.

[heauxzenji]

Brainrot Kinktober - 10/1

nice guys finish last

Hate sex: Shigeru Yahaba x Fem!Reader

Warnings: oral sex (f. receiving), sex (protected), kinda unhealthy relationship? Lmfaoooo idk how to tag a hate fuck but that’s what it is... frat boys. frat au- frat boys always come with a warning.

Word Count: 1.7k

Brainrot Kinktober Mlist

Of all the people in your contemporary issues seminar, it was just your luck that you had to be paired with Shigeru Yahaba for your midterm project. He was the arrogant, know-it-all, frat boy type that you loathed. It wasn’t that you knew you’d get a bad grade, actually quite the opposite; you both had some of the highest marks in the class- no, it was the fact that you had to spend time with someone who had such an inflated ego, and made it a point to let everyone know that his dad was on the university board of trustees or that his fraternity won the greek wars the past 2 years in a row- Every. Time. He. Opened. His. mouth. But begrudgingly, you had to do this to pass.

After texting back and forth sporadically for a few days, you had agreed to meet and work on the paper in your dorm, as you told Yahaba there was no way in hell you were stepping foot into his frat’s house. You felt a lot better doing the assignment on your terms this way. He, however, decided to show up almost an hour late to the pre-arranged meeting time, only further fuelling your disdain.

“Sorry,” he said flatly, tossing his backpack down to the floor. “Our pledges had a mission that ran over time and as Pledge Master I-“

“I don’t care,” you cut him off. “Let’s just get this project over with, yeah?”

You both set up your laptops and sat in an uncomfortable silence. Every once in a while, one of you would mention the topic at hand for the project, discussing a detail or commenting on the formatting of the paper you had to co-author. But mostly, the air was riddled with a heaviness, a lingering tension that was as close to breaking as possible. It was about an hour and a half before he opened his mouth to actually make conversation- and of course, he chose to press the issue.

“You know… I never really knew what your whole deal was with me,” he chuckled. “You seem to be the only person on this campus that has it out for me…”

“I don’t have it out for you,” you replied. “I just simply don’t like you.” You went back to work, typing feverishly in an attempt to draw your silence back in.

“But… why?” His tone changed, almost to one of desperation. One that let you know that he wanted you to validate him. But you could never give him that satisfaction.

“Because trustfund boys like you are a waste of time, space, and energy!” You yelled. Yahaba’s eyes widened.

“Well at least I don’t think I’m better than everybody for being a loner without friends!” He yelled back.

“At least I don’t have to fucking pay for friends,” you spat. “I worked for everything I have, I worked hard to get here! You think you should just be able to get by because daddy’s money keeps the school afloat!”

Your faces were lingering mere inches from each other, anger boiling over into a sickening feeling of contempt- but also an overwhelming arousal? The feeling of those sinfully familiar butterflies welled up in your abdomen as you stared into his eyes.

It was in a fluid motion that his lips found yours, teeth feverishly tugging at your bottom lip to allow entrance to your mouth. Your head was spinning as you tried to comprehend your current position- but your senses were overriding thought. You melted into the kiss, allowing your jaw to fall open just enough for Yahaba to swipe his tongue against yours. You paused for a second, stopping to look him in the eyes again, seeing his now hooded with an entirely different story than the hateful narrative you had been writing for them the entire semester.

“If we’re going to do this,” you started, taking the time to take a deep inhale before you finished your sentence:

“If we’re going to do this, you better not fucking tell anyone- or you’re dead.”

“Scouts honor,” Yahaba replied, licking his lips and giving you a shit-eating grin. Even though you were thoroughly convinced he had never been a scout, you couldn’t be bothered to care. He kissed you once more, pushing you into the couch before starting to sloppily trail kisses down your jawline, neck, and collarbones. He placed both hands at your waist, pinning you to the surface below as he used his teeth to pull up your shirt, feathering more kisses down your torso. You watched him wistfully, mindlessly following his lead.

You began to kick off your leggings, wriggling them down your thighs while Yahaba had removed his shirt. He found his way back to your mouth, placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses to it as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your slowly dampening underwear, tossing them to the floor. He ran a finger up your now glistening slit- the sudden sensation of which earned a gasp of surprise from you. Examining his finger, he slowly licked your arousal from it.

“Delicious,” he smirked, positioning his head and body in between your legs, his own feet dangling from the couch. He looked up at you one last time.

“I hope you’re ready for this....” he teased. He wasted no time, flattening his tongue against your core. You inhaled sharply, one hand finding his hair and the other palming one of your now exposed breasts. You rolled your nipple between your fingers as he went to work, lapping at your folds with an almost sinfully slow pace.

“Fuck I need- MORE!” You could barely get the last word out when you were jolted by the feeling of suction his mouth had made on your clit. Slowly, Yahaba had slid a finger at your slit, slowly pushing it within your plush walls, several soft moans escaping your lips. He curled his finger inside of you once or twice before lazily slipping another in, making sure to keep the pressure also building around your clit, rapidly darting his tongue against it.

He released you from his mouth with a pop, fingers still pumping away. He was motivated by the moans you were so desperately holding back- he wasn’t supposed to be making you feel this good. You hated him, you hated what he stood for- why give him the satisfaction of having you come undone at his touch?

“Come on, y/n,” he coaxed. “I know you’re a raging fucking bitch- but can you sound real pretty for me? Let me hear how pretty you sound, tell me how good my fingers feel inside your pretty little hole...”

“Hmmmph~ fuck,” you whined. He quickened his pace. “It feels so- mmmm- so good.”

“Good girl.” His mouth found its way to your clit once again as he removed his fingers from your cunt, bringing them to your lips. You quickly opened your mouth for them, tasting your essence and humming as you wrapped your lips around them. Your eyes fluttered closed as you could feel the knot in your abdomen slowly starting to rip.

“I’m going to c-“ you choked out a half sentence, stopping as you felt your climax ripped away from you as Yahaba removed his mouth from the bundle of nerves, leaving your spasming pussy desperate for attention.

“No you’re not,” he growled. He tore his joggers from his body, boxers following immediately after. Spitting into his hand, he stroked his already hardened cock; looking at you lustfully. He used his free hand to reach into the pocket of his joggers, pulling out his wallet, followed by a condom.

“I’m always prepared,” he winked. As much as you wanted to smack the smug look off of his face, you knew that he would be able to scratch the growing itch you had. You just wish he wasn’t able to talk through it.

“Shut up,” you retorted. “Just fuck me before I change my mind.” You swivelled your hips in anticipation, watching him prepare himself. He lined himself up with your core, sliding himself against your opening.

“Shiiiit,” he hissed, slowly sinking into you. Your head flew back as the feeling of fullness overtook your lower half. Yahaba started moving at an even pace, snapping his hips against you with each thrust. You threw your arm around his side, coaxing him to move a little faster.

“For someone who can’t stand me, you sure are needy,” Yahaba laughed, continuing to pull himself in and out of you at a teasingly slow rate.

“I said shut up and fuck me- that’s all you need to be doing,” you commanded.

He bent down even closer to you, bucking himself into you deeply, attaching his tongue to the sweet spot just below your ear and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. He started pounding away at your pussy, satiated by the stream of curses and needy moans spilling from your lips. Your nails absentmindedly dug into his back, clawing at him to make sure you could feel every inch of him dragging through your soaking wet walls. The familiar knot in the bottom of your stomach was building itself up yet again, only made larger by Yahaba pressing his hand against your abdomen to deliver more quick and hard thrusts, hitting at just the perfect angle to cause you to snap.

“Fuckfuckfuck I’m- oh my god- I’m cumming!” You choked out as your vision went blurred. Yahaba didn’t let up, continuing to thrust as you rode out the high, your walls spasming around him. Once you went limp, he pulled out, hair still perfectly coiffed and sticking to his forehead from the sweat. He began to dress himself again as you lay sprawled on the couch, your body beginning to prickle with sensation again.

“Wait,” you paused. “You didn-”

“Nah,” he threw his shirt back on. He hadn’t finished himself. You were a little hurt- did he think you were trash?

“I wanted to prove to you that even if you hate me, I’m a pretty good guy… a good guy would never let you go unfinished.”

The hurt you had felt turned into the contempt you knew instinctively.

“Fuck you,” you huffed, pulling your t-shirt back over your own head.

“You just did,” he smirked.

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Infrangible

AFGHSAGHJS THIS IS SO LATE IS NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE LMAO

In my defense, I stopped being a person long ago and now, in all the ways except physical, I happen to be a potato. BUT ANYWAY :’) This is for the Renegades Ship Week hosted by @greasicookies <3 (Thanks again!), for day 5, which is Maxpie. The prompt is “secrets”! <3

I had a tough time writing this because I’m going through a lot of stuff rn :’) still, I hope you can enjoy it x’ddd.

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @obsidianfr3sk @the-wee-woo-rita and afsghagshja @all-weather-is-bad (because this is a very...me fic lol and I think you’re already used to my sad attempt at humor haahahaah i’M SORRY AGSHJAKL) AND @lackadae because agshjs I made a reference to one of your drawings, hon :’) (I promise once again, to catch up with your content once I feel better afsghjak).

And that’s it. I hope you like it <3

When Max turned nine, he reached the conclusion that everybody forgot their early years at some point. Before, Adrian had already explained to him that wasn’t quite true, because he misunderstood Max’s statement and thought he was feeling bad about himself for not being able to recall certain things. He told him that, unlike what he thought –which was false because that’s not what Max meant- people usually couldn’t store those memories from when they were younger than three.

“Some people do.” He said. “But it’s normal if you don’t remember anything from when you were…I don’t know. Two.”

“Do you remember anything from when you were two?” Max asked him.

From the other side of the glass, Adrian scrunched up his nose. And then, obviously, he saw himself in the need to adjust his glasses.

“I’m not quite sure whether I was two or not. But I do know I was younger than five.” He started. “There was a small canal on the way to the apartment. When it rained, it would grow a lot. It didn’t have big torrents or anything, but it did grow a lot. The water usually went higher than my ankles. But the thing was…that every time  it grew, it became infested with turtles.”

He paused for a second.

“I really liked turtles.” He continued, shrugging. “My mother used to let me walk down to the water, as long as she was right behind me, obviously; one day, when we were coming back from the city, she stopped to attend a call. I got too impatient and went down alone when she wasn’t looking. The next thing I remember is that, just when I was getting up after catching a turtle, I felt her tugging me by the back of my shirt. The turtle fell on its shell.”

At that point, Max realized he had been staring at how he kept on fidgeting with his pen instead of looking him in the eye, but he continued doing so, because he didn’t like it when Adrian’s voice turned that serious.

“…She had never screamed at me like that.” He said, as if he were talking to himself and then, to erase the tension, he tried to scoff. “I don’t remember what she said, but I remember that she said it so loud I told her she was scaring the turtle. Then I started crying. Like, a lot. I think she was terrified too.”

In the end, everything turned too quiet for his liking, and Max did something his dad had advised him to do for times like these, when he just didn’t know what came next: Improvise.

“I didn’t know you liked turtles.”

“…Well, I did. I really liked turtles when I was younger.”

Max had seen a couple of turtles in his life, but not as many as Adrian had seen, he supposed, because Max had never stepped outside, except when he was a baby.

Which was exactly the point.

He didn’t have memories from when he was a baby, or a toddler. Most of the people who had come to talk to him had said they remembered events that were either too sad (like Adrian) or meaningful in their lives. Max didn’t have anything like that. In fact, his first –very blurry- memory was standing on the edge of the quarantine, with his hands pressed against the crystal, and then licking it.

According to his dads, he was between three and four (“He was three, Simon. What are you talking about?” “He was born in November.” “It wasn’t November yet.” “We had just celebrated his birthday. He was four.” “HE WASN’T FOUR, SIMON! HE WAS THREE! THREE! We were celebrating that his quarantine had just been built!” “IT WAS THE SAME EVENT, HUGH!”) and Aunt Tamaya, plus the both of them, were in the hallway. For some reason, the fact that his eyes were so huge (they were still big. But they were bigger when he was a baby) came off as odd to Tamaya. And the moment they made eye contact, he licked the glass.

Nobody knew why. Not even himself. The adults remembered it better than he did, of course, but none of them had ever been able to guess the reasoning behind it. They often expressed Max had been a very strange baby, mostly because of his lack of social skills. It’s not like he had chosen that, and it’s not like his fathers would’ve allowed it to happen if they had had any other option. But Max wasn’t willing to stand there and pretend that he knew what he was doing, either.

Most of the time, he didn’t.

He barely held any memories of the nurses that had ever been in charge of his care, but, for obvious reasons, he remembered Dad. It was always easier to remember the person who had taken care of you the most, he supposed. And Max knew, among a lot of things, that it wasn’t his other dad’s fault. Though, sometimes, he couldn’t help but blame him.

Again, he didn’t know why, but there were those days, when he needed he the most, where a voice inside of his head told him that, if Simon loved him enough, he would just sacrifice his powers to be with him. His powers weren’t that useful for combat anyway.

“Okay, but that’s kinda mean.” Adrian told him the first time he opened up about it, the night before he attended the Trials to choose the members of his patrolling team. “Pops might not have combat powers, but they’re as important as the rest of the members’. That’s why they work so well as a team, you know? Every power can be extremely helpful during a battle, as long as you know how to use it.”

Max wasn’t doing anything in particular that day. Nothing besides listening to Adrian and sitting on the floor , at least.

“But if every power is useful…” He said, tilting his head to the side. “…Why are you allowed to reject certain aspirants?”

Adrian frowned a little, not in the sense that he looked angry at Max. Rather, he was confused by the question and was trying to word the answer in a way that sounded rational.

“Because…” He gulped and clicked his tongue. “…Like I said…uhm…the Council is an extremely good team. They’ve been doing this for a while. Us, the patrolling leaders are…allowed to reject certain prodigies because we don’t have as much experience as them. And…we might not know how to use somebody’s powers, and that’s very dangerous. We don’t want people dying, do we?”

When he said that, something clicked inside Max’s brain, and he nodded in automatic. Obviously, a few years ago, a non-prodigy teacher had taught him how to read, and the moment Adrian notified him it was his year to be in the Trials, he managed to read the manual and the rules for the event, from a booklet and a pamphlet (respectively) he had asked his dad to bring for him. He didn’t get much new information, different from the one he heard on TV or the one presented in the posters. However, amongst the rules, there was a section that talked about banned powers, which contained only two categories:

-Complete telekinesis.

-Stardust modelling.

“Yeah.” Dad told him. He was bathing him in the quarantine’s bathroom (Of course. Where else?). “Stardust catchers…which….are able to model stardust, are extremely dangerous and there’s not much research about them. Nobody really knows how they work, and it would be pretty difficult for us to… handle a prodigy like that.”

“Like me.”

Dad had always had a pretty specific routine he had to follow when bathing him. If he missed or misplaced a step, he acted like would explode or something. Also, Max didn’t understand why, but ever since he started growing thicker hair, Dad became pretty strict on the fact they should take care of it so it would grow healthy. Hence why they had a full hair routine that they did in the bathtub. That day, the statement caught him so off-guard he grabbed the wrong bottle, and then, when he realized it, he was already pouring the dense liquid (that looked more like a paste to him) on Max’s head. Cursing under his breath, he placed his other hand in the middle so it would fall over his palm, washed Max’s head and started the routine all over again, before changing the subject:

“About complete telekinesis…there’s obviously a lot of research about that power. We know how to manage with that. But telekinetic prodigies are not …very accepted in our society. They’re pointed at…Frowned upon. In the worst of cases, other prodigies hunt them down and then kill them.”

In that moment, Max came to the conclusion that all that changing the subject thing had been in vain.

Because, from his part, the answer was exactly the same:

“Like me.”

And Dad didn’t like that, for he started scratching his scalp harder, accidentally.

“No. It’s nothing like you.” He said. “You’re not like that, Max. Society hates telekinesis because some evil dude decided to use his powers, his telekinesis, for awful reasons and stained prodigy’s names. You’re not like that. You’re not abusive, or selfish or evil. And I don’t want to hear you comparing yourself to him ever again. Understood?”

To this day, that was the most aggressive form of validation someone had ever given him, but Max took it anyway, because he trusted Dad, and if he had said something like that, then there had to be a clear reason behind it.

“Understood.” He whispered.

And he tried, he really tried, to believe it. But, like many other things, no matter how hard Max tried, he was still severely confused. Not that he didn’t know about the Age of Anarchy, or the parties involved in the Age of Anarchy.

The quarantine, needless to say, could get pretty boring most of the time. Max had to do a lot of things to kill time, and some of those activities involved reading books that children shouldn’t be reading. He did read some children’s books, but then he would find himself looking through history articles and books, and reading the chapters that interested him the most. For instance, he was confident he knew about the Age of Anarchy, but one thing was knowing about it, and another, different thing, was having an opinion about in regards to it.

Max didn’t know if he had something to say about the topic. If he did, it was a very incomplete idea, and it was very likely he wouldn’t be able to phrase it correctly.

The group of people Max talked the most to were adults, and those adults, especially the ones who had experienced the Age of Anarchy and somehow managed to make it out alive, refused to talk about it. As for the few children he had talked to…

Well, about them…

Long story short, they had lives.

They all had lives outside of a glass, unlike Max. Maybe they weren’t the most interesting of lives, but at least they for sure had to be more interesting than his’. They didn’t have a pre-established schedule, where a designated person would come in to feed him or extract blood samples from his body, to then take them to the laboratory. They didn’t have to hear a total of seven alarms to remind him what he had to do: Wake up and get dressed, have breakfast and brush his teeth, enter the virtual sessions with his teachers, take a shower, have his blood samples taken,  start doing his homework –if he had any- and do whatever he wanted once he was finished, have dinner, brush his teeth and go to bed, and then start all over again.

That moment, when he had spare time, would be the same one normal kids used to go out with their friends, like Adrian did. To go to the park and get themselves a scarily huge wound at the center of their knee. To live. To breathe air. To do…literally anything that wasn’t this.

Because Max was different from the many children he hadn’t yet gotten the opportunity to meet or talk to, because, obviously, they wouldn’t want to spend the whole day hanging out with a person…like him.

The only way Max could see two out of the three people in his family was through a crystal wall. And he couldn’t kiss them, he couldn’t touch them… sometimes he even wondered if he knew how their voices sounded, because, after all, Dad’s voice sounded the tiniest bit different once he crossed that infamous glass door.

He couldn’t walk through the streets of Gatlon, because, for starters, he didn’t know them. And if he dared to go out there, he would get killed on spot for having accidentally neutralized a prodigy who didn’t want to be neutralized.

Other kids had nannies whom they complained about when their parents couldn’t look after them (at least that’s the kind of things he saw on the TV shows he watched) but Max had patrol units that would move from one corner of the room to another, ready to attack anyone who came closer than necessary to him, because the only one who could take care of him in person, was Hugh.

Other kids could go out freely, without being scared of anything at all. They could get hurt while having fun with their friends and family. They could laugh until they cried with them. They could hug them, sleep in the same bed as them. They could walk their pets, go on road trips, go to amusement stores, water parks…

They could experience the current world; watch all the new events that were happening every day, in first hand.

They didn’t have to read about the past, or the people from the past to keep themselves entertained. They didn’t have the need to do that. At all.

They were living the lives Max couldn’t have, because he was too dangerous for that.

And obviously, that’s why he couldn’t just…go around asking other kids about what was their favorite bug, their favorite planet…or their opinions about Ace Anarchy, and if Pops (Simon) saying “Alec, with an A as in Abusive Swine” made them laugh.

Besides, he hadn’t even met that many kids his age. Or kids, for that matter.

He was aware Adrian wasn’t exactly a grown up, but he wasn’t a kid either, so, he usually didn’t make it into that list.

In fact, just like the banned powers in that manual, there were only two kids in Max’s list of acquaintances.

Aunt Tamaya’s first baby was born without powers, when Max was like four years old, and his dads were way too excited about it (Weird thing to brag about out loud, honestly, because all the recruits in the Headquarters were betting ridiculous amounts of money on which powers the Thunderbaby would have –Max could hear them- and one day they just heard The Dread Warden storming into the hallway, euphorically screaming “GUESS WHAT, MY LITTLE CHERUB BABY? YOUR COUSIN IS ABSOLUTELY FREAKING POWERLESS!”), for they thought Max would finally be able to have a friend who was more or less his age. Dad was the one who brought him in, two weeks after he was born. He was still tiny, red and chubby, and wrapped in his three different blankets that way, he looked like a bloated marshmallow.

Aunt Tamaya, her husband, Pops, Adrian, Aunt Kasumi and Uncle Evander were outside (as always) waiting to see what happened…and, it was extremely odd for Max to admit it, but he couldn’t remember much about that moment, even though he was already older than three. There was, however, a video taken by Uncle Evander where, if you narrowed your eyes hard enough, you could see the moment Max burst into tears right after kissing the baby’s cheek.

Neil was his friend.

At least, Max considered him to be his friend. Still, they had an age gap of four whole years, and a part of him was waiting until he was a little older so they could be on the same page. Because sometimes, when Neil couldn’t comprehend something semi-important that Max had just said, things could get pretty awkward, because there were occasions when, if Neil got too frustrated over anything, he would start crying, and his sobs often summoned his mother all the way from across the building. She never particularly tried to put the blame on Max. In fact, she hadn’t even glared at him not once, ever.

But she did choose to take him with her, into her office, or ask Adrian to babysit him while he calmed down.  Afterwards, he usually didn’t come back to the quarantine.

“It’s not your fault, Max.” Pops would tell him, always. “It’s just that…Neil...he’s younger than you. There are things that might be…easy to you, but that are super complicated to him. And you might be able to do things that he can’t, and he can’t understand why he can’t, so he gets super confused and angry and that’s why he cries and Tamaya has to come and comfort him.”

“That, and because she’s like a...very freaky bird mom who hears her children cry and comes around with her super sonic enhanced sense of hea—“

“Hugh, don’t be rude.”

Every time they had that discussion in front of him, Max could never understand why Pops said Dad was being rude. He was right, to a certain extent. Aunt Tamaya was just…being a mom.

And that’s what moms did.

At least, that’s what Max had read and seen on TV because families like his’ were…super rare to find in his cartoons or favorite books. In fact, the times when he had seen himself represented in any of the things were so few that, for the longest time, Max had this weird, messed up idea that biological men could give birth. He thought that Adrian, apart from the fact that he was the closest to him, looked more similar to Simon, and that had to mean he had given birth to him, while Hugh had been the one to give birth to Max.

One year, when Max was six, they finished Lady Indomitable’s gigantic golden statue, placed downtown. It was late June, and though the city had previously looked covered in colors, that day it just looked…white and golden. That’s the best way Max  could find to put it into words.

According to Max’s weather application, the heat was unbearable that day (good thing he couldn’t feel anything because the temperature in the quarantine was always regulated) yet, according to what he was seeing in one of his screens, a great percentage of the citizens of Gatlon were marching in the streets carrying floating lanterns, headed towards downtown where the event was being held.

The Council was standing in front of the covered statue. All of them except Blacklight, who had stayed to take care of the Headquarters, and Max could see him from where he was. They gave a speech about Lady Indomitable together, and as they started revealing the statue, Tsunami sang a song that was supposed to be one of Lady Indomitable’s favorite ones, and that Max was too young to recognize (he supposed). In his opinion, it was a cute event, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t utterly confused the moment he saw Adrian taking one step ahead to be the first one to let go of his floating lantern, which was different from the other ones, because his’ was bigger, and it had a big “I”. Besides, people waited a couple of seconds until it was stable above their heads to let go of their own floating lanterns.

It still looked cute to him, but now it looked weird as well. So he got up from his chair, and walked towards the edge, pressing his hands against the glass. He hoped that would be enough to magically catch Evander’s attention, who was, at the moment, using his chair as a swing, as he typed a number in his computer, copying it from his calculator and eating from his salad every now and then. Obviously, Max’s telepathic call wasn’t enough, and he had to knock on the glass a couple of times, loudly. Even then, Uncle Evander didn’t look up in his direction.

But he did hear him, because he did respond.

“It’s not gonna work, Maximus. I’m not getting you out.”

As a side note, Max considered telling him his full name was Maximilian and not Maximus, because that was way before he realized it was a nickname. Nevertheless, he just let it pass, for the simple reason he had better things to ask. That’s why he proceeded to knock again, instead of speaking.

“What is it?”

“I wanna ask you something.”

Evander tried to steady himself in the chair without falling on his back, and once he succeeded, he came closer to the quarantine, with his arms over his hips.

“Why is Adrian doing that?” He asked, just because he wasn’t able to find another way to phrase it, while pointing at the screen behind him; Evander narrowed his eyes following his finger, as if he hadn’t been watching the event himself from a livestream on his phone. A few seconds later, he seemed to realize what he was talking about, and bit his upper lip, before pouting barely a little.

Then, he clicked his tongue.

“Because that’s his mom. And today’s her birthday.”

And it’s not that Max was insensitive enough not to recognize that it was very sad, but at the same time those single words were enough to make the idea he had of his life fall apart. All the things he thought he had already managed to understand felt fake and incorrect, and it was so fast it almost made him feel dizzy.

“She’s not his mom.” He declared.

Evander opened his eyes very widely and, next thing he knew, was that, for some reason, he looked nervous. Which, to say the least, was very…unlike Evander. He was usually super…confident, and, in Dad’s words: “He walks with his back too straight for a person who says some dumb shit every time he opens his mouth”.

At that moment, his back wasn’t straight at all, and he kept on wiping the sweat off his palms in the suit.

“…I mean…she’s not…alive anymore. But… that doesn’t mean that…”

“Noooo. I didn’t mean that.” Max cut him off. “She’s not her mom, because Adrian already has a mom.”

He stopped suddenly. Max could almost see his brain working at full speed, trying to process the data he had just received. Then, he blinked, arching his eyebrow.

“Who’s…who’s his mom?” He asked, getting closer to the crystal, and crouching down to be at Max’s height (Evander was almost too tall for his own sake). “Do Simon or Hugh…?”

“No. I mean she’s not his mom because Simon’s his mom.” Max stated, confident enough to move a mountain with his raw determination and his bare hands, which, needless to say, did nothing but make Evander even more confused.

Not that Max couldn’t understand why.

He was a brand new, redeemed person now.

But back then he wasn’t.

“…Simon is what, you said?”

“Adrian’s mom.” Max reaffirmed.

Still bewildered, Evander gawked. Perhaps he understood where that confusion was coming from but, at the same time, maybe he was too disturbed to ask for additional information. Max didn’t know which one of the two would make him feel more embarrassed, especially taking into account the next thing Evander said:

“That is the weirdest shit somebody has ever said to me, and I’ve talked to the Puppeteer an unhealthy amount of times.”

He wasn’t the one who explained to him the way his own family worked. On the contrary, he immediately told his dads about it, and next time the both of them came to talk to him, they tried to make him understand the concept of homosexual couples.

And they failed.

Miserably.

And he was using that term, because after that talk, Max went through life for a while saying that his ethnicity was Gay, because both of his dads were gay. Over and over again, they tried to correct him, but nothing seemed to work, and Max kept on spreading the information that he was gay (something he didn’t know yet) until Aunt Kasumi decided to intervene and, for his birthday, she got him a children’s book called All in Rainbow, which, according to the information in the first page, was actually a translation from a Latin American book written by two lesbians (one of them non-binary) and illustrated by the same woman who had made the Anarchists’ and the Renegades’ graphic novels and was also a Latina.

That book was something similar to a gay encyclopedia. It was narrated by this girl named Phoenix, because it followed her throughout her school and her daily life, where she came across different people and families. After every short story, there was an informative section explaining everything in regards to the new person’s identity, including their flag, the meaning of said flag, and the explanation of certain terms. Max really enjoyed it, and, in fact, he ended up going through it more than once. When he tried to persuade Adrian into reading it too, he admitted he already had, when he was younger,  and proceeded to make a comment about how pretty the name “Phoenix” was.

It was only then that Max was able to understand how his own family worked, and how freaking inept he had sounded when he decided it was a great idea to use it as an ethnicity.

That book was, in fact, the cue for all the grown ups in his life to start buying books for him, which he was grateful for, except for the one that he, ironically enough, had gotten from Uncle Evander. Sure, he appreciated that he had spent money on that,  but Max didn’t appreciate the fact that the plot was about a dog that was sent away to a school for dogs but made everyone believe he was in jail so he could escape. The drawings were cute, but he just couldn’t find the moral of the story and he didn’t like that.

His dads, from their part, got him a book about two frogs that, at least to Max, acted as if they were a couple; Aunt Tamaya was the one of the short books without drawings.

As for Aunt Kasumi…she usually brought a lot of educational books; every time she overheard him expressing something that was making him confused, she brought him a book about it, including that time she heard him asking Ruby Tucker “So, are you always bleeding?” completely out of context.

Max supposed that it had a lot to do with the fact that Aunt Kasumi was in charge of Child Services, and she spent a lot of time with children, especially because she liked to volunteer in orphanages, having been in one herself when she was a little girl. She usually moved in prodigy orphanages, for she was one to know the poor conditions they sometimes presented.

And…to say the least, she wasn’t a woman of many words. She was very reserved with everything she did. And, besides, it was none of Max’s business. After all, he was just a kid.

But, in this case, it kind of involved him.

Kind of.

For the simple reason that there were two names in the list of people his age Max had talked to. The first one was Neil (who wasn’t even his age. He was just close to that) and the second one…

The second one involved Aunt Kasumi.

Just like people were able to overhear his conversations through the quarantine, Max was able to overhear the conversations they were having on the outside, especially when he was trying to do it on purpose.

Every time he was too bored, in other words.

Some of the things older people said were confusing, but, over time, Max had learned to store that information, so he could comprehend it better in the future. He didn’t know at what level that was healthy, yet he still did it because, literally, he didn’t have anything better to do.

During extremely busy days, the Council chose to spend the night in the Headquarters, just in case, and while they could sleep in the common room, if Pops was too insistent on wanting to be close to the quarantine, they slept in the hallway.

In Max’s hallway.

Of course, Dad would sleep with him inside the quarantine but, in order to make it feel more like a pajama party, they slept close to the edge of the “room” (if it could be called that way), so close to the Councils’ inflatable beds, they could’ve touched them if there hadn’t been a wall in between.

When they were sleeping in that hallway, there wasn’t a patrol looking over Max, because they were the patrol and, every two hours, they changed turns to stay awake. All of them except Dad, who stayed the entire night with Max. The others often got up and started walking around the quarantine according to their ages. That is, Aunt Tamaya went first, followed by Pops, then Aunt Kasumi, and Uncle Evander at the end. However, since it wasn’t like they were too used to having many hours of sleep, Kasumi and Evander usually got up at the same time and patrolled together.

That night, Max was having trouble sleeping. Dad was hugging him, which made him feel very comfortable, but, at the same time, before he wrapped his arms around him, he had been moving way too much, and that had made Max feel uneasy, because a part of him, though he knew it was highly possible it wasn’t true, was feeding the annoying worm at the back of his brain that told him he was the one making Dad uneasy. That Dad was moving and couldn’t sleep because he didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Pops. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Adrian, even. Anyone but Max.

Which, again, he knew things…weren’t like that. But that little, nameless, uninvited worm was always telling him that, over and over again, determined to repeat those awful words until they made so much noise they made him cry.

And even then, when he was already crying, the worm ate deeper into his brain and told him to stop because, in the end, who was he crying for anyway?

Who was he crying for, if nobody was here to see or hear him?

That night, of course, he didn’t cry, for the simple reason that…well, he did have somebody who would hear him cry, and maybe comfort him like Aunt Tamaya comforted Neil when he was crying…

But he didn’t want Dad to do that.

Not today.

Not because he were mad at him, but because he feared that, if he did, then Dad would be the one who would get mad.

Besides, that night he got extremely busy trying to overhear the conversation between Kasumi and Evander who, the moment they got up, started talking as they walked, first at a volume so low their voices could’ve been considered murmurs, but then, with every second, the issue started escalating.

And it wasn’t that they were arguing, it was that they weren’t exactly happy with each other, nor did they seem to manage to get to a mutual agreement.

Max felt like that time he was watching a movie with his earphones on, and instead of paying attention to the plot, he kept trying to identify which sounds were dominant in his left ear, and which ones were dominant in his right ear, because Uncle Evander and Aunt Kasumi were walking around the quarantine, and the echoes of their voices were floating right behind them, making it almost impossible for Max to decipher their messages word by word.

At least, until they stopped in front of him. That is, very close to the inflatable mattresses, too. And with just one eye open, he was able to tell Aunt Kasumi wasn’t amused, with her arms so tight across her chest that way, and with Uncle Evander standing more straight than necessary (because, yes, Dad was right about that...sometimes... because Max had read somewhere that tall people had to be really careful with their posture to avoid spine deformities or have less complications when they were older) waving his –as Aunt Tamaya would’ve called them- Hot Cheeto fingers right in front of her face, in a way so aggressive she sometimes had to lean backwards not to get one of her eyes poked out.

“…and it won’t look good for the organization. It won’t look good, Kasumi. You know why?”

“Yes, Vandy. I know why. I already knew before, yet you took the time to explain it to me another seven times. I mean, thank you, I guess, but—“

“If I kept on explaining it to you, it’s because I didn’t…and I don’t know what’s not clicking.”

“What do you mean with what’s not clicking?” And she tilted her head to the side. “…Are you still talking to me?”

“Don’t play dumb, Kasumi. Especially not in front of me, because I know you.”

“Right. But I still don’t get what you’re referring to. What’s not clicking about what, exactly?”

Evander laughed in a way Max would’ve just…understood if she had decided to punch him in the face so he would stop.

“We’re a big organization, Kasumi. People talk.”

“Of course that people talk. I mean, our citizens support our cause and our government system. In fact, statistically, more than half of the population do, but sometimes there are things that… are for their own good but they will refuse to understand and accept them anyway. And that’s normal. We might be the law, but we can’t control how the masses think, you know?”

“For their own good, you say. Beneficial.”

“Exactly.”

“Beneficial for who, if you’d be so kind?” Evander laughed again. “As far as I understand, we’re talking about one single problem, from a single person. It won’t bring anything beneficial, as you call it, for our organization, or for our system…if anything, it will damage it and make us lose credibility.”

“…Why?”

As a response, he started flapping his arms around, as if he were trying to point at something invisible. Or at something that wasn’t really there.

And this time, Aunt Kasumi didn’t try to pretend she was seeing it, and remained silent until Evander realized he would have to make himself understood.

“Because…” He clenched his fists, sighing loudly, almost like he was certain he was right and Aunt Kasumi wasn’t. “Our policy. Remember that? You know, a thing that actually exists and you helped write?”

She didn’t respond.

“Our policy as Renegades, it’s that we shall keep our people safe, and that includes prodigy and non-prodigy citizens. We shall preserve their lives no matter the cost, and create a safe environment where all can coexist and protect each other. That means that no prodigy individual with questionable reasons is to be allowed to cross that gate and disturb the peace or, worse, put somebody’s life at risk.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Yes, you should be, because we wrote it, for fuck’s sake.”

“Evander, please. There’s no need to curse or—“

“…But you know what that means? It means that we can’t just…go against that policy and expect our citizens, our recruits, even, to still take us seriously.”

“Oh, but I’m following that policy because, as you might remember, we also pledged to assist anyone whose life was at risk, and people who, day by day, have to live under very vulnerable circumstances. It is our job to intervene and take them to a safer place, where their quality of life can improve, isn’t it?”

“It is, but that applies for people who aren’t dangerous to society.”

At that point, Max had both his eyes open, and he was seeing the scene more clearly.

In fact, everything was so clear, that he was able to read the confusion in Aunt Kasumi’s expression, even before she said:

“…This is a kid we’re talking about.”

“She is dangerous.”

“She’s not dangerous, Evander. She's a kid. Sure, her behavior has caused her to go bouncing from orphanage to orphanage like a rubber ball but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be helped, that doesn’t mean we should just turn our backs at her, and that doesn’t mean she’s dangerous.”

“You know damn well her behavior’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, I am, because that’s the only thing that should concern us at the moment.”

“No, it’s not?”

“It is. Because she’s a kid…and, honestly, Vandy…” Aunt Kasumi sighed. “… I know we were raised thinking life is war, but… the truth is, people are not born evil. Or dangerous, for that matter. Take your time and think about it, and  you can talk to me again once you’ve calmed down, because you must be pretty much aware I don't appreciate this tone. Besides, it’s not like this little argument is going to stop me anyway.” She shrugged.

“…after all, I already talked to Hugh.”

“…And what did he say?”

“It’s not my place to tell you that. Ask him.”

Max never knew whether he had taken that suggestion or not but, knowing Evander, he just assumed he hadn’t. And, to be honest, he never asked Dad about it either. He just stood and watched how everything proceeded to go down and chaos unleashed.

Though, he had to admit, unlike what had happened with other “big” events, this one specific chaos was rather discrete. A kind of well-kept secret.

In fact, the only explicit hint that something would happen in the next few days, was the little disturbance caused by Team Frostbite (it was always Team Frostbite. Max had no idea why everyone was so…willing to put up with their…issues so much, and without hesitation) when it was their turn to patrol around the quarantine and Evander came around, holding his notepad, and muttered something to them.

“Whom?!” Genissa Clark, Frostbite, snapped immediately.

Evander frowned and, judging by the way his moustache moved, he also pouted, before turning at Mack Baxter, Aftershock, to start talking to him instead.

“Do you have any idea of what she’s talking about?” He clicked his tongue. “Like…okay, nevermind…”

When Max looked up, he saw the exact moment when Evander realized he was listening to the conversation, so he lowered his tone once again.  Yet, Max was still able to see the million ways in which Genissa Clark's face contorted and, in the end, the first second Evander shut his mouth, she declared:

“We’re not available for that. Perhaps that task should be assigned to Team Sketch or Team Peregrine. They’re always lollygagging around, it’s about time they get some real responsibi—“

“That’s a no, then. Alright. Thanks for your cooperation, Team Frostbite. Or, lack of, more likely. Do better next time, okay?”

If Max wanted to be honest with himself, it hadn’t taken him much time to realize he wasn’t fond of any of the members in Team Frostbite. Or Frostbite herself. In fact, he considered her to be almost insufferable, and, again, he couldn’t quite understand why they were allowed to boss everybody around. To a certain extent, they reminded him of the popular kids (who were also bullies) in every movie he had ever watched. They weren’t nice. Not even likeable.

Maybe Max was just very specific on the type of people he liked.

Or maybe he liked everyone and their mom, except Team Frostbite, because he didn’t know any better than that, while  at the same time he knew better than liking Team Frostbite.

But he didn’t know better than liking Margaret White, because…well…

She hadn’t done anything particularly awful for him to have an opinion as strong as Uncle Evander’s about her.

She came on a Friday.

Not that she exclusively came to talk to him.

She, in fact, arrived alongside Aunt Kasumi, who was wearing her civilian clothes –High-waisted jeans and a baby blue shirt, damp with sweat because it was hot outside- and kept leaving her car key on every table that came across her, before coming back to it to grab them.

At first, Max wasn’t able to see Margaret very well, mostly because he was distracted with his online classes, and she was taken straight to Dad’s office, along with Adrian’s entire team. And though Max didn’t see much, he was able to catch a glimpse on how Adrian kept on trying to grab her hand, and she insisted on pulling away.

At some point, he had read about that too.

The Renegades accepted recruits from ages 14 and up, talking about patrolling. However, they had a child protection program, where, basically, they assisted orphan prodigy children with behavioral issues or, though only few people liked to admit it, potential to be a part of the organization when they were older. Adrian didn’t like it and, strangely enough, out of everyone, Evander didn’t like it either. Nevertheless, Evander was one to get more aggressive when it came to child recruitment, which, thankfully, wasn’t common at all.

In fact, those cases were so rare, that they referred to them as “exceptions”. After all, children were not allowed into the Trials. As far as Max knew, they weren’t placed in patrol units. On the contrary, they were given small positions in the organization, and their paychecks were directed to their respective savings account, something that Pops was in charge of. However, they could use that money for their personal needs or something they wanted to buy, as the few children recruits resided in orphanages around Gatlon and went back there after their shift was over. Max supposed that sometimes their caretakers refused to buy them something because it wasn’t good for their health and it must be very satisfying to tell them it was their money (That’s what Adrian always did when Dad refused to buy something for him).

(That, or he went and asked Pops for that same thing).

Usually, they could have cash withdrawals just by presenting their Renegade Recruit ID because, obviously, they didn’t have an official ID yet.

And not only that. The children recruits were assigned a patrol unit with older members to look after them, or help them with anything they needed. Taking into account the conversation he had overheard, he supposed that duty had fallen on Adrian’s team (A theory that was later confirmed to be true by Adrian himself).

They were never left unsupervised, just like Max.

The day Margaret arrived, for a couple of minutes, maybe hours, Max was submerged in his own little world, and in the assignment his last teacher had told him to do. It was just him, his colored pencils, his paper sheets, his notes, his head, his hands, and the miniature planet Earth that his quarantine supposed, against the real world that he had never stepped on.

But every now and then, a little piece of the unknown, mysterious real world came running to his encounter and talked to him, sometimes in the most sudden, unsolicited way.

Sometimes it was Dad opening the door without calling. Sometimes it was Adrian pressing a new drawing against the crystal. Sometimes it was Pops, making a little “Psst” sound to get his attention.

Sometimes it was three little knocks, and the girl that was producing them with her knuckles.

Back then, Margaret’s hair was longer, to the point where she could tie it in a high ponytail, decorated with a blue bow, which combined with his orphanage uniform: A white polo, with the institution’s symbol by the right side of her chest, beneath a cobalt blue skirt with suspenders, long white socks and black scholar shoes.

He saw her and recognized she was real the first time, but Max still gave himself a couple of seconds to grasp the fact that she was really there.

Well, not there-there.

That she was there, as in, through the glass.

And she was calling him, even if she wasn’t saying anything. In fact, she was just there, eating from a chocolate bar with puffed rice. Her free hand was still over the glass.

And she was waiting.

So, he figured he didn’t want to keep her waiting anymore, and leaving his task and his tools behind, Max walked in her direction. And like it always happened, he stopped right before bumping his forehead against the hard, translucent surface.

Margaret took another bite from her chocolate, with an arched eyebrow, but she said nothing. From afar, Max hadn’t been able to really appreciate her features, but now that he was closer, he realized she was taller than him; her small, brown eyes were making her lashes look bigger; her black hair looked thicker and he was able to conclude that her skin tone was more or less like Pops’, maybe a little darker. She had a mark over her cheek, and at first Max thought it was a mole or a birthmark…until, of course, he realized that moles weren’t (or, at least, shouldn’t be) purple, and realized it was a bruise.

He didn’t ask her about it. Adrian had once told him that there were people who might not want to talk about their bruises or open wounds, not because the stories behind them were painful to tell, but because they were too embarrassing and telling embarrassing stories was an inconvenience.

“…well… now that I think about it…” He said right after. “…That’s not it. No. Not really. Sometimes your wounds’ backstories are painful. Or sometimes…you just want to keep them a secret, you know? And secrets are…sort of important.”

He believed every word.

Hence why, instead of saying something too nosy about that bruise, a little slowly at first, Max started lifting his hand up, until he reached the spot where Margaret’s was, and pressed his palm there. When she stared at his palm in confusion, Max clarified:

“Hugh five. You know?" Max giggled a little." As in… the Captain? Hugh? ...No?"

She didn’t laugh. And that was odd because Adrian would’ve.

Margaret wasn’t Adrian, sadly. And, it seemed to be, she hadn’t had an older sibling to tell her that some things just…weren’t adequate as icebreakers to start a conversation. Because, like Adrian had said, there were certain things other people might not want to talk about.

“Are you sick?” She directly asked.

Max was still “pressing” his hand against hers.

Gulping hard, he felt his throat boiling hot, almost as if it were growing blisters.

“No.” He said in a hoarse voice. “Why?”

Not pulling away either, Margaret said:

“The other day, Sister Malinda brought a very tiny baby into the orphanage. They were so small they had to take them to the medical wing.” She took another bite from her chocolate, and kept on speaking with her mouth full. “I sneaked out of my room to see them, and they were inside this little glass box that helped  keeping them alive. Sister Tam told me so.”

Max kept quiet for a while. He would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t have a little curiosity about the name, but Margaret solved everything that had to be solved even if he didn’t ask her to.

“Sister Tam was named after Thunderbird. She’s younger than the other nuns.”

He guessed so.

Aunt Tamaya’s real name had been revealed to the general public on the 13th year into the Age of Anarchy, when she reappeared after being away for months thanks to an accident that involved Queen Bee and a cliff or something like that (Max couldn’t quite understand it, and Aunt Tamaya couldn’t remember much about it either. If she did, then she just didn’t desire to talk about it). It wasn’t a fun anecdote or anything like that but, according to his dads, the name Tamaya topped the lists for the most female-assigned names for at least a year, and the same thing happened in the 20th year into the Age of Anarchy...however, by the time she was buried, the world didn’t know Lady Indomitable’s real name, and for an entire month, people used Regina instead of Georgia. When Max asked why, Dad answered that, when attending public events, Lady Indomitable used to wear a pair of shiny golden R-shaped earrings that caused everybody in Gatlon to develop mass hysteria and made themselves believe that those Rs meant Regina, when in reality, according to Lady Indomitable herself, one of them meant “Rawles”, and the other “Renegade”. In fact, Oscar Silva (Smokescreen, one of the members of Adrian’s team) had once said that one of his cousins, who lived in Mexico, had been named Renata Regina (Though nobody knew what the heck that first name was, and Oscar had a really peculiar way to pronounce Regina) because she was born a few days after Lady Indomitable’s decease.

“I knew that.” Max lied.

“Sure, buddy. I bet you did.” Margaret chuckled. And there, Max realized she thought she was too clever.

Which, he didn’t doubt she was. He wasn’t in the position to state that. At least, not yet.

But what he was in the position to state, was that, if she thought herself to be clever, then it was his opportunity to think of himself as clever too. After all, he had been reading his whole life because he didn’t have anything else to do.

If Margaret was clever, then so was he.

“You’re talking about an incubator.” He said.

Margaret looked up out of a sudden (Max hoped she hadn’t gotten dizzy). He could still see the chocolate, that at this point should’ve been mush, stored in the inside of her right cheek.

“Uh?” She asked, struggling to keep her mouth closed.

Max gulped, and tapped the surface with his fingers.

“The thing where they put the little baby. It’s called an incubator. That’s where they put pre-term babies, because they’re not ready to survive outside of their mother’s womb. Sometimes their lungs don’t work on their own, sometimes their hearts are too fast or too slow…”

“You look too old to be a baby.” She observed. “Are your powers something related to that? Like, are you a baby who doesn’t look like a baby?”

For a second, Max thought about quoting Evander that time he had boldly stated that Simon was Adrian’s mom, but he didn’t because he wasn’t in the mood to curse.

“…No. First, this is not an incubator. And second,  I’m a kid.” He answered. “I’m not a baby.”

“Then why are you here?”

The short answer was that, honestly, that was none of her business. And the even shorter answer, was:

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret. And secrets are sort of important.”

“A secret.” She repeated, as if tasting the word. “…You don’t look like you want to be here. Are you allowed to come out?”

The short answer was still that it was none of her business. But, if he wanted to be honest, for some reason, he didn’t want to give that answer. Because, to be fair, she would find out on her own sooner or later. Because, yes, people talked, and while his dads were kind of secretive about him, everyone in the headquarters knew him. Her being clueless was just a temporary event that would vanish into thin air in a blink.

And, for some reason, he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Maybe tell her something that wasn’t real. Maybe… tell her something that wasn’t necessarily true but that he wanted it to be. Maybe something that was more interesting than what he was, in reality; maybe something that would make the worm in his brain go away for two weeks.

"I can't get out." He finally decided. "Because this glass is infrangible."

Then, he knocked on it three times.

"See?"

Margaret tilted her hair to the side, looking like a cat.

"What does that word mean?"

And dumb as it sounded, Max felt a twinge in his stomach along with a violent wave of pride. Because, even if it was hard for him to admit it, he was hoping she would ask that.

He wanted her to ask that.

"It means you can't break it."

Margaret's eyes seemed bigger. But just as she was separating her lips to speak, somebody behind her cleared their throat.

That's when Max spotted Aunt Kasumi leaned against a wall with her arms crossed. When Margaret looked over her shoulder, she found her there too. But while Max waved at her, Margaret remained inexpressive.

"You're very far from the restroom, Maggie." Kasumi said, in a serious tone. Afterwards, she massaged her temples.

"Please, darling. Just… help me here, okay? We have to go back to the office."

And she didn't seem mad, but rather disappointed.

When it came to Aunt Kasumi, that was enough. Max knew that, and Margaret knew that too. That's why they both removed their hands from the glass, and Margaret started going away.

However, before she was too far, Max asked:

"Why are you here?"

And Margaret turned around, smiling.

"If you're not telling me, I'm not telling you." She sentenced. Then, she proceeded to imitate his voice as she said:

"It's a secret."

And for a while, obviously, it remained that way. A secret. But it wasn't long before they both knew everything they needed to know.

Margaret was integrated into the janitorial team, but, for a while, people talked about her and her powers, and Max couldn’t help but remember what Dad had told him in the bathtub, and the conversation between Evander and Kasumi.

Yet, more than scared, Max felt… something he didn't know what it was. In fact, he wasn't scared of her. More likely, a part of him felt that he knew what it was like to be her, because maybe they weren't that different after all.

People were scared of them both.

But he wasn't scared of her. No, not really.

He hoped she wasn’t scared of him either.

Maybe they could've been very good friends, even through the infrangible glass that kept him from getting pointed at, frowned upon or killed.

[lesbian-in-leather]

So it's a little late but I finally made the extended version of this post

I'm just going to rewatch the trailer and write down all of my thoughts, but actually expand on everything this time (and it'll actually be mostly in order)

Maybe it's just the cut for the trailer, but the lawyer scene feels very rushed. BBC made it comedic in its own right, not just a setup, but here it feels very much like "have some exposition so we can get to the ghosts". The ghosts should not be the only point of comedy - they're important, sure, but "Samantha" and "Jay" should be able to carry a scene by themselves

"Samantha" doesn't think it through. At all. She cuts off the lawyer after his first buyer suggestion, and "Jay" doesn't seem to be on board with the idea. In the OG, they were both into this (admittedly bad) idea, so the responsibility was on both of them. Yes they rushed into it, but it was way more thought out than just hearing the words "bed and breakfast" and deciding that's your new plan

Why did they age down Pat for "Pete". I hate it. He's younger and skinnier and there's no reason. Like yeah, the OG doesn't have AMAZING diversity, but it's better than this - don't take out diversity in a remake. Didn't think I'd have to spell that one out

The sage joke is admittedly funny. However, it gives us some insight into the ghosts that I'm not the biggest fan of, and let's us see a lot of their new designs. Let's go across, shall we?

"Issac" is so much less dignified than Thomas. I understand that Thomas isn't always as poised as he'd like to think, but there's a level of class that's missing from "Issac", right down to the way he stands

"Flower" looks high. How can a ghost be high, you ask? No idea. But here we are.

"Sasappis" (I read in an article that this is a character name and I believe tis the Native American guy) has such a tiny reaction I almost missed it. He barely moves while everyone else freaks out. I'm hoping they didn't create this character out of the 'emotionless Native American' stereotype but... I guess we'll see

"Hetty" is the replacement for Lady B, and she's super expressive, protective of the others, and so much younger. She was supposed to be a grumpy mother/grandmother figure - why is she literally leaping in front of the others to protect them? That should be the Captain's job but they've axed him so I guess it falls to her now. Also, why did they make everyone so young?? Like, none of the ghosts look over 35. Why. This was unnecessary and, quite frankly, stupid. Why is everyone at this house dying so young? Just so they can market them as fuckable???? L o a t h i n g

Viking Man also barely moved. He seems interested in the sage and is basically a "cooler" version of Robin as far as I can tell. They seem to have taken away the joy of Robin's character, leaving only Some Guy which would be bad in any genre, but ESPECIALLY a comedy. He has potential in theory, but I feel they aren't going to utalise it

"Trevor". I have so much loathing for this man. Let's have some overall analysis, shall we? First of all, we'll start with, what I hope is a well known fact: Julian is not a good person. I love him as a character and he is starting to learn and grow, but at no point does the BBC or the other characters try to justify his behaviour. CBS saw this, and made Trevor. Trevor is younger than Julian (because for some reason they AGED EVERYONE DOWN), which also makes people far more likely to excuse his actions. They seem to be trying to make him a 'loveable fuckup' who makes bad choices because of privaledge, and I am. So worried. That they're going to try and excuse his actions. He already feels like a writer's self-insert and that never bodes well, especially in this type of character. Mark my words, they're going to market him as the 'relateable' one while having him spout misogynistic views (probably also homophobic and maybe even mildly racist/xenophobic ones too)

MOVING ON

Why is "Pete" sarcastic? I don't like it. Pat wouldn't be the one yelling aggressive comments while everyone's actually doing something together - he should be happy! Encouraging! He should be trying to catch up to the moving group instead of attempting to draw attention away from it!

Everyone looked so happy for the dead relative when she moved on. Hate that - it was so funny in BBC when they were like 'fuck off why does she get to leave' - having "Pete" be happy is fine, but the rest of them? WHY IS "HETTY" HAPPY.

Oh look, "Travor" actively flicks "Pete's" arrow to cause him pain. Why. That was so unecessary. None of the ghosts should try to hurt each other out of pure malice, and they certainly shouldn't get joy from it. It feels like CBS is trying to turn us against "Pete" and put us on "Trevor's" side, which I called, but am not a fan of.

And here she is. "Alberta". What the FUCK did they do to Kitty. She has Kitty's colour palette and fits the diversity demographic, but that is where the resemblance stops. Kitty is SUCH a wonderful character because she was an upper class black woman who was allowed to be soft and sweet and innocent and the others all protected her and I LOVED IT. Do you want to hear some fun descriptors they gave to "Alberta" in this article?

"In her time, she dated a bootlegger and has “seen it all,” and is a bit of a diva. Though tough and not one to take crap from anyone, she has a maternal streak and often acts as the protective den mother to the “family” of ghosts"

This is not only far closer to so many stereotypes, but it's the polar opposite of Kitty!! Having a flapper was a pretty cool idea but she could have had the same character traits as Kitty! Why change that! There was NO REASON TO RUIN HER. Also is it just me, or does it seem like they've made way too many of them sarcastic? Like, they've taken away Alison's snarky streak but given sarcastic lines to way too many of the characters

Also can I just take a moment to question the sheer amount of ghosts they've included. I understand that technically there's about the same amount. But with so much less of American history to draw on and the questionable character choices they've made, it feels like there are so many undefineable characters. Like, how do we differentiate them?? Even in the trailer there are so many scenes where most of them are just... standing around. In BBC, they're all so distinct and you get so much out of rewatches because they're all always doing something - look in the background of any shot and the ghosts who aren't talking have a reason to be there! But in this they're just... standing around. Do better.

I've just realised I'm only 0:59 seconds into a 2:16 trailer so I'm going to split this into two parts

Part two is here

[primatechnosynthpop]

Wow! Against all odds, I finally got around to actually writing the follow-up to I'm Gonna Be The Anti-Hero that's existed exclusively in my head for months! Well uh here it is :3

---

The secret underground room beneath Plymouth rock was dark and silent as always, save for the faint dripping of water through a crack in the ceiling. It figured that, after living there for countless centuries, the structural integrity would finally begin to erode. That dripping sound, although highly irritating when it first started a month or so ago, had now settled into background noise which John Smith paid no attention to. He was a pilgrim, not a witch; it wasn't like the water could hurt him.

Then again, he realized a few moments too late one rainy spring day, perhaps he should have reevaluated that statement. He was minding his own business sitting in his chair and reminiscing about the very old days (that was the only thing he could really do anymore, slowly decaying as his body was) when the soft and steady dripping suddenly escalated at an exponential rate into what sounded like a small waterfall. He turned his head to see a semi-transparent humanoid figure taking shape out of the water pooling in the corner--strangely tinted red, as though the water were mixed with blood. As the old pilgrim watched, jaw agape, the figure strode purposefully toward him, taking on a more solid form as it did so.

"What are you doing here, intruder?" John Smith demanded, one hand tightening around the hilt of his sword while his other hand reached behind his back to fumble for his musket.

"This secret underground room isn't government sanctioned," the stranger hissed. (Although... was he a stranger? John Smith somehow felt that he'd seen this youngster once before, but he couldn't quite place where or when.) "And you have no official identification registering you as a legal citizen. Not to mention, you haven't been paying taxes... disgraceful."

Before John Smith had the chance to concoct a retort or draw either of his weapons, the masked man's hands were around his throat and crushing his windpipe with a force that could only be driven by an inhuman amount of bloodlust. And within seconds, the life of a pilgrim that had been extended for centuries past its expiration date was finally put to an end.

*

"I can't believe they want us to make a clown movie at a time like this."

"I can believe it," Neil replied without looking up from the shopping list in his hand. "The studio wants a lot from us, remember? They're not going to care how sad we are. Anyway, it's been four months--" The emotions bubbling up within him refused to let his voice stay level, so he gritted his teeth and hissed out the rest of his sentence rather than let himself start crying in the middle of the dollar store. "We should be over it by now."

"Neil..." Kevin began in the way he'd often addressed Neil over the past few months--brow furrowed, voice edged with an obvious and vaguely patronizing concern--only to trail off and shake his head with a sigh. Apparently he'd finally given up on trying to make Neil feel better, which was just fine by him, because things are never gonna go back to the way they were before and it's my fault and I don't deserve to feel good about it.

"Anyway, we've got what we came for," Neil muttered, waving his hand in the general direction of Kevin's shopping basket without looking him in the eyes. "Let's go."

At the checkout counter, the cashier frowned and shook her head when Neil offered her a five-dollar bill. "Sorry," she told them, "But all this is going to cost $29.99."

"What? But we don't have that kind of money!" Neil lamented. "And we got this stuff from the clearance section... plus this is the dollar store, so shouldn't everything just cost a dollar?"

For a visual aid as he spoke, he grabbed one of the items they were ringing up--a bargain pack of multicoloured clown wigs--and shook it in the cashier's face. Apparently unmoved by his bargaining, she pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

"Maybe you should have checked the price tags first, sir."

"Huh? But, but..." Neil trailed off when he looked down at the price tag on the item in his hands. The bright orange tag had the original price, $7.50, crossed out and replaced with $2.35... but then below that, scribbled in tiny and barely legible font, it read "just kidding, it's actually eleven dollars now." "Aw, man," he groaned, tossing the pack down on the conveyor belt and sticking his hands in his pockets. "Just our luck."

Kevin had a thoughtful look in his eyes while he drove them home empty-handed. When he pulled up outside the clubhouse a few minutes later and they climbed out of the truck, he suddenly laid a hand on Neil's shoulder.

"Say, Neil, let's not get discouraged," he said. "I've got another idea for how we could get our hands on some props."

"Really?" Neil asked, perking up despite himself. "How?"

"Well, I think--" Kevin broke off as unexpectedly as he'd started, encouraging smile briefly dipping into a grimace. "...You know what, I'll take care of it myself. You can hold down the fort here, okay? I won't be long."

Neil's brow furrowed. "Okay, but what are you...?"

Without explaining himself any further, Kevin clapped him firmly on the back, hopped back into his truck, and drove off. Neil watched him recede down the road with bewilderment. Being all secretive like that wasn't like Kevin... Unless he's trying to protect me from something, he realized with a twinge of bitterness. That would be just like him, the way things had been recently. Ever since the past winter, and what had happened with Ryan, Kevin's latent big-brother-ish tendencies had escalated; now he watched over Neil like a hawk and freaked out every time he so much as stubbed his toe. Under different circumstances Neil would have relished being fussed over, but now it was more annoying than anything else. The thing was, he didn't deserve it. If anything... his fingers strayed up to absentmindedly fidget with the four-leaf clover pinned to his shirt. I deserve to have bad luck. I deserve to suffer, after what I did to Ryan.

Still, there wasn't much he could do about it now, and he wasn't going to say no to having the clubhouse to himself for a while. With a sigh, he disentangled his fingers from the clover's leaves, ran a hand through his overgrown bangs, and turned to head inside. Maybe he could play cards or something to pass the time.

*

A thick layer of dust had settled over everything in Ryan's house. That made sense, of course. It had been four months--no, five, since Ryan hadn't come home once while he was being a vigilante--since anyone had set foot there. Even so, Kevin was unprepared for the full-scale assault on his lungs when he opened the door, and promptly broke into a coughing fit.

"Man, good thing Neil stayed home," he thought aloud as he batted thick, swirling clouds of dust and spiderwebs out of his face. "The way things have been going for him lately..."

He'd probably choke to death on all this dust, he thought but didn't say aloud, and then felt bad for thinking it in the first place. Kevin didn't understand what had happened to Neil in the course of the past few days, but ever since picking up that clover, he seemed to be having a run of uncharacteristically bad luck. Whether it was random chance or something more suspicious was afoot, it sure wasn't doing much for his already thoroughly frayed nerves.

"Alright, calm down, James," he muttered to himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and ideally dispel the rest of the dust. "Focus. Concentrate. What are you here for? Props for your webisode. Right."

Keeping that objective in mind, he made his way past the front entrance and into the living room. There, a few objects were strewn around that caught his eye: a mannequin bust wearing a colourful wig; an eccentrically patterned jacket draped over a chair; a brush dipped into a rusted metal container filled with what he hoped was red paint. After looking around a little more he found a large cardboard box filled with mutilated stuffed animals, which he mostly emptied out and started filling with the useful items he came across.

All the while, a persistent feeling of unease stirred in his gut, becoming increasingly hard to ignore with each belonging of Ryan's he packed away. This is wrong. I shouldn't steal from him. Kevin paused and looked down at the box in his arms with a frown. One of the items sticking out the top, a blank-faced doll head, seemed to stare accusingly back at him. For a moment he saw it not as a plastic figure, but as a human form encased in ice and then broken apart. He blinked and the illusion quickly vanished, but an unsettling feeling remained in its wake. Neil was right; it had been months already. So why did going through Ryan's things make him feel so dirty? Ryan didn't need any of this stuff anymore. He was gone. Wasn't he?

With a weary sigh that, had anyone been around to ask, he would have accredited to the physical exertion of carrying heavy stuff around, Kevin set the box down and stepped back to survey the room he was in now. If he remembered right, this kind of room was called a study--there was an armchair with a few suspicious stains lurking beneath the dust, a desk strewn with papers all scrawled full of nonsense like the ravings of a mad scientist, and an ornate bookshelf. He wandered over to the latter furniture piece and ran his hands along the spines of the books, letting their leathery texture ground him in the present. He noticed several unusual bibles and other ancient texts, and a stash of calendars, some of which he was pretty sure had originally belonged to him or Neil; the up-to-date calendars and one of the more normal-looking bibles went into the box, while he decided everything else was better left where it was.

There was one other set of books he recognized: a teen fantasy series that Neil had often gushed about. Thinking back to the previous fall and all the events he normally tried not to think about, he experimentally lifted one of the fantasy books off the shelf. At once, just as he remembered from when Neil showed him, the bookshelf rumbled to the side and revealed a narrow staircase descending into the basement.

If anyone asked him, Kevin couldn't really say what compelled him to go down those stairs. The secret chamber was as empty as he remembered, with nothing down there that could possibly be of use for the webisode. And without a lantern, he could barely even see the only things that were there to speak of: the paintings of Ryan's ancestors.

"Ryan..." The name manifested on Kevin's lips unexpectedly as he stared, squinting through the dust and darkness, at the row of portraits grinning lopsidedly back at him. He knew the paintings couldn't hear him--hell, they weren't even paintings of Ryan himself, just his relatives. But their faces were practically identical to him, that face he hadn't seen in person for nearly half a year, and that alone was enough to clog up his throat with unbearable emotions.

The thought of It's a good thing Neil isn't here for this surfaced again, and this time Kevin had to agree with himself. Losing a close friend was... well, there was no way not to take it hard. But Neil seemed to have taken it particularly hard, even blaming himself, to the point where any mention of Ryan would immediately send him straight back into a depressive spiral no matter how happy he'd been a moment earlier. That was why Kevin had kept this idea a secret from his friend in the first place--that, and he wasn't sure if it was going to pan out and didn't want to get Neil's hopes up. He figured that if Neil asked where he got all the stuff he'd found, he'd just say it was from a garage sale.

Now, looking into the achingly familiar manic blue eyes of those portraits mounted on the wall, Kevin thought of those news reports about the mysterious killings that had been going on around town. If that really was Ryan, and he was somehow still alive...

"Why?" he whispered. Without really thinking, he reached out and pressed his hand against the painting as if to cup its cheek. "Why haven't you come home, Ryan? Where are you?"

*

The target was at home, alone in her bedroom playing video games. Casual, unbothered by any harm her actions may have caused. Shameful. In an icy swirl of perhaps not-so-righteous fury, the vigilante took form in the corner of her room and crept up behind her. With an average build and no weapons at the ready, she would be no trouble to dispose of.

"Playing dead in order to toy with an innocent man's feelings," he growled. "Some people would call it ghosting. I call it a crime punishable by death."

"Jesus christ, what the fuck?!" Wendy yelped as she spun to face the vigilante. "How'd you get in here?"

"You shouldn't worry about that," he told her, gloved hands already flexing in anticipation of tightening around her neck. Or perhaps this time he'd thrust his hand straight through her chest and rip out her heart--an appropriate punishment for her crimes. "You'll have plenty of time to figure it out once I send you to hell."

"Okay, seriously? What is happening here?" Eyes narrowed, Wendy put her game on pause and got to her feet to stare the vigilante down. "You said something about me playing dead..." Her eyes suddenly widened with recognition, and the vigilante waited for the fear to set in along with it, but instead she shook her head and laughed. A pitying laugh. "Wait, you're not friends with that, uh, that filmmaker guy, are you? Geez, I seriously must have dodged a bullet there."

"Filmmaker..." the vigilante murmured as the word echoed in his mind. Yes, that's right. The man she stood up was a filmmaker... of a sort. (How did he know that? How did he even know who this woman was? Those questions weren't worth dwelling on, he decided.) "You may have thought you dodged a bullet back then, but I'm here to see that the bullet circles back around and destroys you like you deserve."

Wendy crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow, any trace of fear on her face outmatched by her sad, pitying smile. "Sure, keep the edgy sayings coming, Mr. Hot Topic. And what's with the getup, anyway?" she added with a nod to the vigilante's predominantly dark outfit. "Must be kinda warm."

Warm? The vigilante snorted derisively. No, of course he wasn't too warm. His blood, as it always had for as far back as he could clearly remember, ran cold like that of a snake. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been warm. And he certainly couldn't remember a time when he'd worn anything other than his current ensemble. Rather than waste time telling this insufferable woman as much, though, he simply took a few purposeful strides to close the distance between them, hands extended and more than ready to kill.

"Ugh, get away from me, creep!"

In a startlingly swift motion, Wendy's leg shot out and connected with the vigilante's ankles, sending him toppling to the floor. He hissed in irration, though not in pain--when his sensations were already perpetually numb, it would take a lot more than that to hurt him--and got to his feet, dusting himself off with a scowl. In the few seconds this took, Wendy grabbed a baseball bat from the corner of the room. Now she stood brandishing it in perfect athletic form with a battle-ready glint in her eye.

"Not another step, you hear me?" When the vigilante didn't dignify her with a response, she gritted her teeth and gave the bat a twirl--attempting to show off, it seemed, but her hands shook slightly and she nearly dropped the bat, only barely managing to regain her grip on it. "My mom is in the other room right now, and... well, she hasn't done anything wrong, so you don't want to punish her, right? And if anything happens to me..."

He stiffened at Wendy's mention of her mother. An innocent citizen? That was the type of person a vigilante was meant to protect at all costs; otherwise vigilante justice was no better than the police. But no one is innocent in this city. Even so, he understood the implicit threat--not that Wendy's mother would bring him down herself, but that either woman could very well call the police. And the last thing he wanted was to get law enforcement involved.

"...Fine," he snarled at last, turning on his heel with a twirl of his vigilante cape. "You can live a while longer. But I'll be back, and then you'll regret your sins."

He heard her gasp but didn't bother sparing her another glance as he let his form dissolve into a splash of red-tinted ice, sinking through her floorboards and off to thwart another criminal.

*

Slowly and carefully as a technician deactivating a bomb, Neil set the three of spades down across the top of the three other cards he'd lined up on the table. The humble beginnings of a tower stood for a moment, and he held his breath eagerly as he reached for another card to place on top, only for it to suddenly shudder and collapse like an anime girl who'd stood in the rain for too long.

"Dang it!" Neil threw his hands in the air in exasperation. When he did, a droplet of his own blood landed on his glasses, and he realized with a start that his hand was bleeding--just a paper cut, but still, he'd better wash up.

As he ran his hand under cold water, transfixed by the sight of the blood swirling down the drain, a sudden cracking noise rang out just above him. His head snapped up to stare at the spontaneously cracked bathroom mirror. His reflection stared back, stricken and gaunt, as shards of shattered glass rained down into the sink, where they mixed with the water and the blood. Neil shivered, his breath quickening.

Icy water... ice, blood, broken mirrors. All mixed together. Shattered. Blood, guts, ice, mixed together, down the drain. My fault my fault my fault my fault--

"No," he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his nails into his scalp as hard as he could. "No! I didn't do it, I didn't... I didn't mean to..."

Deep breaths, a voice in the back of his head reminded him. It sounded like Kevin's voice, worried to the point of being slightly patronizing. Neil grimaced, annoyed at his own brain for manifesting its self-preservation in such a way, but he complied nonetheless. Keeping his eyes wrenched shut, he took several deep breaths in and out until his heartbeat slowed to normal--he hadn't even noticed it speeding up--and his hands didn't shake when he lowered them away from his head.

"Hey, you know what'd really make me feel better?" he said aloud to nobody in particular, putting on a broad smile and wiping his hands off on a towel. "A nice hot bath! Yep, that'll counteract my blood running cold, alright..."

He ran his hands up and down his arms as he spoke, although he didn't know who he was trying to fool; the chill that had settled into his bones had nothing to do with the temperature. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure who this whole performance of forced cheerfulness was meant for... the studio, maybe. He wouldn't put it past them to hide cameras everywhere. Either way, even if it wouldn't fix his psychological issues, a bath really would be pretty nice. He put the plug in and started running the tub, with the water temperature set just hot enough that it would scald him a little at first.

He wasn't sure exactly what happened when he sat down on the edge of the tub to take his socks off, whether he slipped on something or leaned too far back or what, but suddenly he lost balance. And by the time he realized he was falling backward, he only had a split-second to curse his rotten luck before his head connected with the wall and he blacked out.

*

In the end, Kevin managed to get a pretty good haul from Ryan's house. In addition to the stuff he and Neil could use for their webisode, he'd retrieved the calendars and a couple other things it looked like Ryan had stolen from them, as well as their old communicator wristwatches. (He wasn't sure if the watches fell into the camp of things Ryan had stolen, or if they'd just brought them over to his place for a sleepover once and forgotten them there. Either way, Kevin figured it could come in handy to start using them again.)

"Hey, Neil," he called as he stepped into the clubhouse with the box in his arms and kicked the door shut behind him. "I'm back."

There was no reply. Frowning, Kevin set the box down with a slight grunt of effort and wandered through the living room and down the hall. There were a few playing cards scattered on the table, suggesting that Neil had been trying to make a house of cards but given up halfway. Kevin couldn't really blame him for that; assembling cards in such a way that they'd actually stay upright was yet another thing that had been more in Ryan's ballpark than in either of theirs. Still, that didn't explain where Neil was now...

"Neil? You there, bud?" Still being met with no answer, Kevin came to a stop outside the bathroom door, which was ajar with water pooling out from inside. "Oh, man, that's not a good sign..."

He gave a tentative knock, and when there was still no response, grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. The sight that met his eyes when he did so immediately made his breath hitch and his blood run cold. The broken mirror over the vanity reflected his slack-jawed expression as he stared at the overflowing bathtub, the pair of still-clothed legs dangling over the rim, and the smudge of blood on the wall leading down to the head of the man those legs belonged to, slumped inside the tub with his head submerged in the water.

"Neil!!"

Kevin sprinted across the room to lift Neil out of the tub. It then took him a few seconds longer to turn off the faucet and pull the plug, as by that point the shock had turned to dread and his hands were shaking. Once the water was slowly starting to drain, he fell to his knees and pulled Neil tight to his chest, one hand clutching at the back of his soaked-through t-shirt while the other fumbled across the back of his head searching for the source of the blood. It didn't take long for him to find the slightly matted patch of damp hair indicating where Neil had banged his head against the wall. Kevin swallowed hard as dread leapt up to claw at his throat. The only question is... how long was he submerged?

"Neil," he whispered, and was almost embarrassed to hear how hoarsely his own voice came out. "Wake up. Please."

No response. Kevin reluctantly pulled back to hold Neil at an arm's length, and shuddered at how limply his friend's body flopped forward. He noticed, with a white-hot jolt of irrational anger, that the four-leaf clover was still in place. Fat lot of good that thing's done for him. He grabbed the clover and crumpled it in his fist, all the while tears pressed against the back of his eyes; he struggled not to let them fall. Damn it... first Ryan, now Neil... What kind of protector was he? What kind of friend?

He slammed his fist, the useless clover still clenched within, against the drenched floor tiles. At that moment, the lightbulb above his head exploded and sent sparking wires raining down around him. As soon as electricity met water, it sent a nasty shock through Kevin's veins; he screamed out of equal parts surprise and pain and scrambled up onto the countertop, which was barely wide enough to support him.

On the floor below, Neil's body convulsed. Then his eyes snapped open and he drew in a gasp that turned into a scream halfway through. Although touching his friend's hand sent the current through his own body for a moment, Kevin was quick to grab him anyway, and he managed to pull Neil safely out of the electrified water and into a fierce embrace. Neil kept shrieking, and he squirmed frantically around, not seeming to recognize his surroundings at first.

"It's alright, Neil," Kevin assured him despite how hard his own heart was pounding. "I've got you."

"Oh..." Neil's body slackened, and he pulled back to blink slowly at Kevin, realization dawning in his eyes. His cheeks coloured with embarrassment and he ducked his head. "Uh, thanks."

Neither of them said anything else, for lack of ability or perhaps willingness to put it into words. After a moment, Kevin realized he was still holding the clover, and he handed it back to Neil, who took it with a dip of his head and a murmur of acknowledgement, and pinned it to his soaking wet t-shirt.

Somehow out of everything in the room, themselves included, that little scrap of plant matter was still intact. And although he wasn't superstitious, that simple fact was what would stick in Kevin's mind for the rest of the day, turning it over until he could only conclude: Yep, there's definitely something weird going on with that thing.

*

Despite the many months he'd prowled the city, this was the vigilante's first time in the hideout of a proper gang. It looked about the way he expected: dimly lit, no windows, weapons hung up on the wall and cigarette butts littering the floor. The gang members, dressed primarily in leather jackets with a few in denim, lounged in chairs leaning too far back, or on top of tables, or on their motorcycles parked right in the middle of the room. Most of them didn't even notice the vigilante as he approached. They were too caught up chattering and cackling amongst themselves like a nest of overgrown crows. The one gang member who did seem to notice the vigilante from the get-go simply looked up at him with raised eyebrows and addressed him once he got close enough to strike.

"Hey, haven't seen you around before. Looking to join the club?"

"Hardly," he snarled. "This whole place is crawling with criminals."

The whole room broke into laughter at that. The vigilante gritted his teeth, fists clenching at his sides. These people were different from the criminals he'd taken down before; between their numbers and all the weapons they had easy access to, they might just pose a serious threat if he wasn't careful.

"You're the ones, aren't you?" he went on once the laughter had died down and the gang members were all watching him with a mix of bemusement and curiosity. No trace of fear amongst them yet, but that would change... "Throwing bricks at innocent people, even seeking to damage their property. Absolutely detestable."

"Woah, hang on," another of the gang members cut in sharply, reaching for a weapon as they stood. "First off, the whole brick throwing thing was months ago. Second of all, we never did that to innocent people, you know!"

"Yeah!" yet another gang member cut in, pumping her fist in the air. "Only to those losers who blew up our boss!"

...Boss?

The vigilante slowly turned, a deeper chill than normal running down his spine, as a strangely familiar smug cackle echoed from behind him. He came face-to-face with a man in a tank top and baseball cap, sneering at him with his arms crossed. Max. Gulping, the vigilante took a step backward. He's their boss?

(How did he know that name? How had he known Wendy's name either, for that matter? Why, out of all the criminals in the city, did a select few ignite disproportionate resentment within him? He'd dealt with some of these people before, he knew, but when he tried to remember when and how it all just turned to slush in his brain.)

"Yep, those losers got what was coming to 'em," Max said. "Except not really, 'cause they didn't suffer enough. But it's okay, we'll get 'em extra hard next time."

"No..." For reasons he couldn't quite explain, the vigilante's voice shook with equal parts fury and sudden fear. "Don't you dare hurt them."

"Huh?" Max tilted his head, already slightly squinted eyes narrowing further. "Heyyy, wait a minute, aren't you one of--?"

Before he could finish that thought, the vigilante was upon him with a karate chop to the windpipe. It was a more reckless attack than he'd planned, and even as Max stumbled backward coughing, he could hear the rest of the gang grabbing their weapons and running up behind him. But it was fine; the vigilante could take them all on and then some. He could kill any number of people if it was for the sake of defending his friends.

(Friends? Did he have friends? Somehow it felt that he must have, once. But that was strange, because the only thing he could clearly remember himself ever being was a cold-blooded vigilante.)

*

"Don't you see? Society's the one to blame! It's society's fault that he had no choice but to become this way!"

As Kevin delivered this speech, waving his arms dramatically toward the focus of the scene, Neil spun the video camera around to point it toward himself. Hopefully the studio would think of the disorienting cinematography for this webisode as a bold artistic choice rather than thinking of it as amateurish and embarrassing. He then leapt back, breaking into maniacal laughter with his prop gun raised in the air. Under ideal circumstances, this role might have been better suited to Ryan, but... well, they couldn't stay hung up on him forever; they had a job to do.

"Eh-heh-heh! Thanks to society, I have the urge to kill!" Neil twirled around to show off his clown costume, while just out of frame, Kevin hastily put on a wig and fake mustache. "And now... I'll kill this innocent man, who's different than the guy who was talking a minute ago!"

(It was fascinating--fascinating and dumb--how a broken mirror and a bit of blood could set him off, but something as heavy as a gun in his hand only brought him the faintest twinge of discomfort, easily ignored for the sake of making a webisode. After all, as Kevin had assured him many times over the past few months, it was the gun and its villainous weilder who were to blame for what had happened to Ryan. On an intellectual level Neil knew that was true--and besides, if he hadn't deflected that bullet, all three of them would have died. But knowing that did nothing to redirect when and why the darkness in his brain manifested.)

Now, much to Neil's surprise as he took aim with his prop gun, Kevin shouted "Cut!" and walked across the abandoned lot they were filming in to turn the camera off.

Neil lowered the gun, confused, as his costar removed his costume with that now all-too-familiar look of concern etched across his face. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know... somehow I've just got a bad feeling about this," Kevin muttered. "Maybe try firing into the air a couple times first."

Neil complied, and was met with the expected result from the prop: a couple of clicks indicating an empty chamber. "You worry too much these days, Kev," he said as he fired one more blank into the sky and then lowered the prop again. "It's not a real gun; it can't--"

As he spoke, his finger accidentally pressed the trigger again, and he broke off with a yelp at the sudden burst of pain in his right foot. He dropped the apparently very real gun with a clatter and clutched at his injured appendage, losing his balance in the process. Kevin swore under his breath and rushed forward to catch him. Before his friend could reach him, Neil's other foot came down on a wide crack in the pavement. A chill ran through him, momentarily distracting him from the throbbing pain, but it passed as quickly as it arose without seeming to trigger any effects.

"By god, what's happening to you?" Kevin exclaimed as he grabbed Neil by the shoulders and held him upright. "You've been so unlucky lately, it... it almost seems like a curse."

"A curse?" Neil stiffened, but quickly forced himself to shrug and morphed his grimace into a dismissive eye-roll. "Pfft, what are you talking about? There's no curse! I've just been, y'know, having an off-day..."

"Neil." There was that concerned look again, that almost parental tone of voice, as Kevin stared him down and tightened his grip on Neil's shoulders. "A couple hours ago you almost died, and now... you can tell something weird is going on, right? And, look--" He sighed, gaze darkening. "I don't exactly know how to fix it, but whatever's happening, I can't just sit back and watch you succumb to it. I can't lose you, too, Neil... not after..."

He trailed off with a faint warble in his voice, lowering his head. Neil gulped, a heavy weight surfacing in his chest. It was true; though he hated to admit it, at this point it was hard to deny that he was cursed. And yet, even as his foot throbbed around the spot where the bullet was lodged and his shoe was slowly stained from within by his own blood, it was hard to convince himself that he should accept help. On some level, didn't he deserve this? Wasn't this a fitting comeuppance for getting one of his friends killed?

Yet here was his other friend, clutching at him ever tighter to the point where his grip on Neil's shoulders was nearly as painful as hitting his head or getting mildly electrocuted or shooting himself in the foot. I'm not the only one who lost Ryan, he reminded himself--another thing he knew perfectly well on an intellectual level, but easy to forget in practice. Kevin is hurting too. I shouldn't make him hurt any more.

"Fine, I admit it," he sighed, letting his tensed-up shoulders slump. "I'm unlucky, okay? And if you think it's possible--" He tore the clover off his shirt and glared down at it-- "then we're going to beat this thing."

*

For as tough as the gang presented themselves, it must have been most of these people's first time in an actual fight. The vigilante swerved to avoid weak punches, clumsy kicks, poor attempts at stabbing. It all blended together after a while, and he stopped thinking of the gang members as individuals; they were just an indistinguishable swarm of insects whose attacks were easily dodged. Unimportant, save for their leader.

The vigilante had Max pinned to the floor now, holding his thrashing form in place with one arm while he brought his other fist down on the ruffian's face, over and over, as hard as he could. Not every blow connected cleanly, and Max had managed to bite him several times already, but that was irrelevant. Criminals must be brought to justice. That was why the vigilante hated these people, wasn't it? Because they were criminals. Yes, what other reason could he have, when this was all he'd ever been?

And then, just as he managed to land a blow to Max's jaw that left him defiantly spitting out blood and a couple of teeth, the vigilante's spine snapped.

It took a moment for him to register what had happened. He just heard a loud crack, and a sharp pain shot through him, and suddenly he couldn't hold his legs in place and collapsed. Max wasted no time taking advantage; he delivered a kick to the vigilante's gut that sent him flying back across the room, where he hit a wall and slumped to the ground, gasping in breathless agony. At once the other gang members closed in on him. Grimacing, the vigilante drew himself up onto his hands and knees, then braced himself against the wall and, with a far greater strain of effort than expected, dragged himself upright. By the time he'd managed to get to his feet, dozens of knives were inches away from him.

Then, to his surprise, Max pushed through to the front of the crowd and held his arms out to hold back his underlings. "Nuh-uh, this one's mine," he told them, sneering as though oblivious to the blood dribbling from between his lips. "I said I'd get him twice tomorrow, and I meant it."

The vigilante flinched as Max took a swipe at him. But rather than a fist connecting with his face, he was met only with the shock of exposure as the bully grabbed his mask and triumphantly yanked it off his face. He was left dumbfounded, blinking, as his vision readjusted to the light.

Wait a minute, I remember--

And then came the punch, square in the nose. Ryan yelped, pressing his gloved hand over his nose to stop the bleeding. When he dodged another punch, his body failed to cooperate and he crashed to the ground again, back aching furiously and heart pounding against his ribcage.

How and why his back had broken, he couldn't say, but one thing was clear: he was horrendously outmatched. Max was saying something now, gloating as he advanced on Ryan with a dagger in his hands, but Ryan couldn't make out the words over the blood rushing in his head. Why on earth had he gotten into a fight like this in the first place? What was he doing? He had to get out of there!

With that thought, yet another thing happened that Ryan didn't entirely understand. (Ryan didn't understand, but the vigilante did. It was one of the few things the vigilante knew: dissolve, reform, enact ruthless vengeance, dissolve again.) His body shuddered, and suddenly he found his solid flesh and bone giving way to a slurry of blood and ice that slipped through the cracks in the floor and disappeared. Then he was formless, freefalling through the dark, or at least that was what it felt like. When he took shape again it felt like dragging himself out of quicksand. Yet when he raised his slowly resolidifying head and looked around, he found himself in the basement of his own home, staring up at the portraits of his ancestors that had started it all.

No. Not started it all. "I had a life before this," he whispered, voice raw with the shock of memory and too many months spent speaking in an inhuman growl. "My name is Ryan, I have a life and a job and friends, I..."

Yes, that's right. Friends. Where were they? He closed his eyes and tried to remember. Each recent memory that took form in his mind was accompanied by a crashing wave of guilt and regret, and soon his body shook and tears pricked at his wrenched-shut eyes. That's right... I became a vigilante, and I teamed up with such a horrible person, let him manipulate me, all because I was too afraid to go back and apologize. And then...

The last thing he remembered, just after the flash of light and shock of paralyzing cold, was the sound of a gunshot, something shattering, and Neil screaming.

"Oh, dear god," Ryan whispered. He raised his head, opening his eyes and lowering his hands from his newly tear-stained face, and sat back on his heels as though worshipping the paintings before him. "What have I become?"

*

The ropes were just slightly too tight around Neil's limbs to be comfortable; he couldn't resist squirming a little as Kevin laid out the open bible on the end table next to his proton pack and began reading from it.

"Okay, um, let's see... ex-or-ciz-amus te, omnis immunde spiritus..." He squinted at the yellowed, faded pages, biting his lip. "Omni satanica pot-es-tas, omnis incurs--incursio infernalis adversarii... uh..."

"You're doing great," Neil called from his position tied to the bed frame; Kevin gave him a weary smile and thumbs up.

As Kevin continued reciting the verse, occasionally stumbling over a particularly tricky Latin word, the room's temperature eventually dropped a few degrees. Neil shivered, but his heartbeat picked up in excitement. He could feel something stirring in his blood like ripples on a lake, and when the furniture in the room began to quiver, so too did his body in eager anticipation.

"...Crux sacra sit mihi lux! Nunquam draco sit mihi dux..." A chill wind swept through the room; Kevin gritted his teeth, one hand pressing down on the bible to hold its pages in place while he grabbed his proton pack with the other. "Vade retro Satana! Nun-quam-suade mihi vana!"

The furniture rumbled louder. Neil's eyes widened as an entire bookcase lifted off the ground. "Kevin, watch out!"

"Hang on, Neil, I'm almost done. Uh, where was I... sunt mala quae libas..."

"No, Kevin, the--"

"Just one more line, okay? Ipse ven--"

"KEVIN!"

That last terrified yell was what it took for Kevin to finally turn, just in time to see the six-foot block of polished oak fly directly into him. Neil shrieked and thrashed against his bindings with all his might, but even if he weren't tied up, there was nothing he could have done. The bookcase came crashing down, its contents spilling out onto the floor around it in a flurry of paper. And when the dust settled, Kevin was pinned beneath it, unmoving.

"N... no..." Neil whimpered. Dread tightened like a noose around his throat as the horrible thought seeped into his mind: This is because of me. Now I've gotten them both killed.

"Oh, yes, what a tragedy... just your luck, isn't it?"

Neil's blood ran cold. He raised his head to see the translucent, smoke-shrouded figure of a giant clover looming over him. Its four leaves, dark green tipped with crimson and speckled with barnacles, opened down the middle to reveal a row of needle-sharp fangs. For a second, "Where did you come from?" was on the tip of Neil's tongue. But it was just as well that he was too terrified to speak, because no sooner than the question appeared in his mind, he realized the obvious answer. Oh, right. This is the demon that cursed me.

"Don't worry, your friend is alive... for now," the demon jeered. "But that could change. It's so easy for accidents to happen, you know?"

As if to demonstrate, the demon's leaves fluttered and suddenly a fire sprang up dangerously close to the scattered pile of books on the floor. When Neil screamed in protest, the demon laughed, and part of the ceiling gave in, sending down a controlled shower of debris to put out the fire before anything flammable could catch.

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Neil exclaimed with a shake of his head; he'd be almost exasperated if he weren't so terrified. "You're really powerful and want to hurt people, geez, not exactly a challenging concept. So, what do I have to do?"

That question seemed to give the demon pause. "...Do?"

"You know, to appease you or whatever. If you're threatening me with Kevin's life, then there must be something you want from me, right?" An idea occurred to Neil just then, and his already hammering heart beat even harder, to the point where he hoped the demon couldn't hear it and tell how freaked out he was. "Hey, it must suck having to be a clover. What if a lawnmower or forest fire had gotten to you before I did? And if you like hurting people so much..." He paused, smirking as the demon leaned toward him with obvious interest. "Wouldn't it be easier just to possess my whole body instead of wasting time messing with my luck?"

"That's..." The demon hesitated, its leaves curling up in what looked like excitement. "Ah. Ah-ha-ha! You're a clever little mortal, aren't you?"

"But don't get it twisted," he put in, glaring defiantly up at the demon despite hardly being in a position to threaten anyone. "You have to promise not to hurt anyone else. Especially not Kevin."

"It's a deal!"

Before Neil could stop and reconsider whether this was really a good idea, the demon dove toward him, row of fangs wide open as though it were going to bite his head off. He flinched a split-second before something cold and stinging like nettles clamped around him.

When he opened his eyes again, the world was tinted dark green as if viewed through a dingy screen, his head felt hazy... and he couldn't move, at least not of his own volition. Even opening his eyes just then wasn't his decision. He heard himself cackle, felt his arms and legs flex far harder than he'd known he was physically capable of flexing, breaking the ropes that bound him to the bed frame and setting his body free to do whatever the demon wanted.

"Hah..." the demon muttered in his voice as it made him walk over to where Kevin lay, still trapped and unconscious. The demon knelt down and poked experimentally at Kevin's shoulder and forearm. "This one has more muscle. It might have been a better choice for possession, if it wasn't so damaged already..."

For one petrifying moment, the demon grabbed Kevin's head and stared intently at him, stretching Neil's face into a grin so wide it made his whole face ache, and Neil's mind raced with horrible thoughts of things the demon might make his own hands inflict upon his poor helpless friend. But the demon simply laughed and dropped Kevin, who let out a low groan as his head lolled to the side--an indication that at least he really was still alive. But all of a sudden Neil had trouble believing that small mercy was really worth it.

"Ah, well, this body will do," the demon decided. "Let's take it out on the town and see how long it lasts!"

*

This time when the vigilante materialized in Wendy's room, she did little more than roll her eyes and move to grab her baseball bat. However, rather than try to attack her or even growl out any threats, the vigilante took two shaky steps and then collapsed, catching himself against her dresser. Wendy's eyes widened as she took a closer look at his face. His mask was off now, revealing a pair of striking blue eyes glistening with obvious distress, cheeks flushed with exertion, and a streak of half-dried blood running from his bruised nose. And when he spoke, it wasn't in the gravelly tone she'd heard from him before, but in a quiet higher-pitched voice--almost a whimper.

"Please... tell me..."

Wendy hung back, caught between a sharp tug of sympathy in her heart and a very rational wariness based on their previous encounter. The vigilante tried to walk again, and again nearly fell; his face wrenched up and he let out a pained hiss. At that, sympathy won out over rationality. Wendy edged toward him with her baseball bat in hand, and when she was close enough, held it out to him.

"Hey, uh... here. It's not exactly medically sanctioned, but maybe you could use this like a cane?"

"Oh... good idea, thank you!" He broke into a grin, and Wendy shivered; somehow he was far scarier when his eyes were bright and cheerful. "Terribly sorry for how I treated you last time, by the way. I really wasn't myself."

"Uh-huh?" While the vigilante tested out the makeshift cane, Wendy sat down on her bed, arms crossed. "And who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Ryan... or at least I think I still am." His smile faltered, and he looked away, anxiously running a hand through his hair. It was starting to come unpinned, and his hat was askew; evidently he'd been through a lot in the few hours it had been since their first encounter. "It's been... strange, lately. I don't think I'm entirely human anymore, if I ever was. But I came back here because there's something I want to understand."

"You want to know why I ghosted your friend?" It was just a guess, but Ryan nodded; Wendy smiled privately to herself for having figured it out. "Alright, I can tell you..."

She uncrossed her arms and leaned back on her bed, thinking back to the disastrous date she'd gone on several months prior. It was a story she'd recited many times to friends, relatives, other first dates as sort of a half-joking warning ("So, as long as you don't blow it as much as that guy did, we should be good...") and the more she told it, the more warped and exaggerated it became within her memory. But when she really thought back on it now, it hadn't been so disastrous at all--pretty damn awkward, sure, but not even close to the worst date she'd been on.

"Kevin actually seemed really sweet," she recalled, smiling despite herself at the memory of his big dorky grin. "I would have gone on a second date with him. But then, first thing the next morning, I read in the news that some guy got arrested right outside the restaurant while we were on our date. And the criminal's name? Neil. Same name as the 'friend' Kevin had said was helping him out." She shrugged, lips twisting into a frown. "I just got kinda freaked out, you know? Like, 'oh geez, did I go on a date with a drug dealer or serial killer or something?' Of course it probably wasn't anything that serious, and pretending to be dead was probably an overreaction, but... well, what's done is done."

Wendy was so caught up in her own memories as she explained all this that she wasn't really observing Ryan's reactions. Once she concluded her story, she glanced over to find him sitting on the floor with his legs tucked up awkwardly beneath him, the baseball bat in his lap; he was staring at the floor, expression unreadable. He stayed like that for a long moment, not seeming to notice that Wendy had stopped talking, until she cleared her throat. Then he jumped to attention, eyes flashing like those of a woodland cryptid in headlights.

"Ah! Yes, of course... well, I still don't entirely understand, but I think I resent you less now." Ryan tilted his head and shot her another shiver-inducing grin. (Whether it was supposed to be threatening or not, she had no idea.) "And you're right; I almost forgot--we're all criminals too, Neil and probably even Kevin and especially myself! So how can I be a vigilante?" He answered his own rhetorical question with a shake of his head, manic grin softening into a melancholy smile. "It's ridiculous. I've been so foolish."

With that, his body began to ripple, losing a little of its solidity. But before he could break apart and dissolve through the floorboards like last time, a chirpy little beep-beep-beedle-beep noise rang out. Ryan's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced down at an accessory around his wrist... Wait, is that one of those communicator watches like the one Kevin had?

If it was, Ryan wasn't quick to answer it. He simply stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at the beeping device in silence. Although she knew even less about Ryan than she knew about his apparently only slightly more normal friends, and she didn't normally care to get too involved in the personal affairs of strangers, he was still in the middle of Wendy's bedroom. And the longer that little jingle repeated, the more annoying it got. So she cleared her throat again and asked, in as polite a tone as she could manage given the circumstances,

"So, are you gonna answer that, or what?"

*

It was a stupid, pointless idea. Not an idea at all, really. Just the last scraps of... not even hope, that was pretty much deplenished at the moment, but effort. The effort not to let everything fall apart even further than it already had.

Kevin had woken with a throbbing pain throughout pretty much his whole body. Judging by the crushing weight pressing down on his torso, he was lucky to have woken up at all. The only parts of him not pinned down were his head and right arm, and even those hurt to move, though at least the spinning in his head put some degree of separation between himself and his broken body. Forget about trying to wriggle free when it hurt just to breathe.

So there he was, stuck, the shelf slowly crushing the air out of him, and Neil was gone. Where to, he didn't know. When he craned his neck he could see the empty bed frame, and the ropes broken and discarded at the foot of it. The bible he'd gotten from Ryan's house was facedown beside the tipped-over end table, next to a crushed and twisted lump of metal and plastic that he was horrified to recognize as his beloved proton pack. So wherever Neil was now, he must have still been cursed... or worse. And there was nothing Kevin could do about it.

Unless. Grimacing at the way his joints twinged, he raised his unpinned arm above his head. There on his wrist, perfectly intact despite everything he'd been through, was his communicator wristwatch. In all the hubbub of that day, he'd never gotten around to mentioning them to Neil, so his friend wouldn't be wearing his. But what if...?

It was stupid. It was pointless. There was no way in hell. But it was the only thing he could do. In a display so lacking in dignity that he was grateful nobody was around to see it, Kevin used his teeth and tongue for lack of a free hand to dial in the frequency and send off a signal. The watch's screen flashed in affirmation; he let his head flop against the floor with a weary sigh. Now all he could do was wait.

When he was at Ryan's house going through his things, and he found those communicator wristwatches, he'd only found two of them. And although that could have meant a dozen different things, there was just one wild, far-fetched possibility that any last semblance of hope now rested upon: that the third watch was missing because Ryan was alive, and he was still wearing his.

He didn't expect to get a response. By the time he did, he was struggling to stay awake--funny thing, trying to breathe with fifty pounds of wood pressed directly on your chest really takes it out of you. But he snapped to attention, or the closest he could get when his head was swimming and his body was beginning to go numb from lack of circulation, the moment he heard that voice crackling through the speaker.

"H-hello? Kevin?"

The relief that coursed through his veins was so overwhelming, especially on top of everything else, that he could only laugh--only for it to quickly turn into hacking as his ribs offered a sharp jab of protest. He raised his sleeve to wipe away a streak of blood that dribbled from his lips before speaking into the watch.

"Ryan. Where are you?" He regretted wasting time with that question the moment he asked it; he could tell from the way his organs felt like they were curling in on themselves as he spoke that he didn't have the energy for a full conversation. So before Ryan could stammer out a proper response, Kevin continued: "Neil is in trouble. You've gotta help him."

"What?" The shrill uptick of anxiety in Ryan's voice was palpable, and even just hearing that voice in and of itself stirred up a whole miasma of feelings that there was no time to properly react to. "What's going on? Are you okay? You sound--"

"I'm fine," Kevin lied through gritted teeth. "And... I don't know exactly where Neil is, but I know he's in trouble." A choking mix of emotions and his own blood swelled in his throat as his slowly blurring gaze wandered to the facedown bible. "I've tried to do some stuff today that I couldn't do without you. I-- we need you, Ryan. So, please... help."

With that final plea, something broke within him like a dam that he hadn't even realized was cracking. His arm flopped to the ground, wrist landing near his ear, where the communicator watch kept emitting Ryan's voice as it slowly rose in pitch until he was almost shouting. But even as his friend called frantically out to him, Kevin found it harder to make out the words. He groaned, letting his head loll to the side and his eyes fall shut. The last sensation he was aware of as darkness closed around him was that there was something wet on his face.

*

"Kevin, are you still there? Hello? Kevin!"

He wasn't responding. Why wouldn't he be responding, if the situation was so urgent? Maybe because he couldn't respond. Because he was--

"What are you going to do?" Wendy's voice cut into the swirl of panic Ryan was rapidly descending into. She hovered over his shoulder, peering down at the watch with wide, anxious eyes. The watch's screen had gone dark. No signal. Yes, indeed, what to do?

"What else? I have to save Neil."

If Kevin didn't know where Neil was, then there was no way that Ryan should have been able to instantly find him. But when he closed his eyes and let his vigilante instincts take over, he found that he didn't have to know where someone was. Whatever dark magic was infused in him now, letting him exist in this not-quite-human state even after what should by all accounts have been his death, it was hardwired for vengeance. And saving Neil meant exacting vigilante justice on whoever or whatever was harming him. With that in mind, the vigilante dissolved in a flurry of blood-tinted ice and reformed seconds later in the place it somehow knew it needed to be.

The first thing Ryan noticed when he appeared on the rooftop was the storm brewing overhead. He raised his eyebrows at that; earlier that day there hadn't been a cloud in the sky--and for that matter, when he looked around, it appeared that most of the sky was still perfectly clear, with the storm clouds being localized around this building. The second thing he noticed, upon peering over the edge of the roof, was that he wasn't on just any rooftop, but a skyscraper that towered above every other building in the vicinity. Lastly, he noticed a flagpole at the far corner of the rooftop, several feet away from him. And that was when his gaze fell upon Neil.

Neil was laughing as he swayed back and forth, clad in a brightly patterned jacket that wasn't his usual style at all, his arms and legs wrapped tight around the tall metal pole. Above him, the dark clouds lit up in a flash, followed almost instantly by a rumble of thunder. Although these particular stormclouds didn't come with rain, Ryan shivered. An incredulous exclamation was on the tip of his tongue (What on earth are you doing, stop it, you'll be killed!) when Neil locked eyes with Ryan, and he realized with a jolt of horror that this wasn't Neil at all--his body, yes, but someone or something else was controlling it. His mouth was stretched into a grin far wider than what a human face could normally achieve, and rather than their usual brown, his eyes glowed a sickly shade of green.

"Why, if it isn't my dear friend Ryan!" Neil--or whatever was piloting him--called, raising one arm off the pole in an exaggerated wave. "Oh boy, the guy I got this body from is sure surprised to see you alive! And as much as I'd love to send you plummeting off the edge of this building, I did promise not to hurt anyone else, so..." He waved his hand in a circle, unnaturally glowing eyes crinkling with amusement. "How about instead I pull you in a little closer so you can get a nice good look when your friend's body fries?"

With that, a sudden gust of wind blew into Ryan from behind, sending him stumbling forward. When he attempted to regain his footing, his broken spine betrayed him once again and he flopped to the ground with an undignified oof just a few feet away from the base of the flagpole. Grimacing, he pushed himself up and crawled the remaining short distance to grab Neil's ankle. As he did so, he noticed there was a bloodstained hole in his friend's shoe, and that his pant leg was slightly damp and already bore a few singe marks. Between that and whatever had happened to Kevin... he shuddered at the thought of what his friends had gone through in his absence.

"Nice try, vigilante," the thing in Neil's body jeered. "But I've gotta say, you don't pose much of a threat since I broke your spine."

He stomped his other foot down on Ryan's hand; Ryan yelped and instinctively released his grip. And at the very instant he let go, in such perfectly unlucky timing that only a supernatural entity could orchestrate, the stormclouds above them opened up with a searing, crackling, blindingly bright lighting strike.

Neil tilted his head back and laughed at the top of his lungs as countless volts of electricity tore through him. That horrendous laughter drowned out Ryan's screams of protest, not that there was anything he could do anyway in his current state, when he couldn't so much as get to his feet. All he could do was lay there and gape in horror as Neil's body shuddered and his flesh began to sizzle and burn.

Though it felt like an eternity of torture, the lightning strike couldn't have lasted for more than a few seconds. When it ended, Neil dropped like a ragdoll into Ryan's arms. Ryan, too stricken to even check for a pulse, simply stared blankly into his friend's glazed-over eyes. Then Neil blinked, and his eyes were glowing green again, and he laughed, the sound rougher now that it was being produced by a charred set of lungs.

"Ah-ha-ha-ha! I wasn't expecting this body to survive that! Can you believe Neil is still kicking in here?" He tapped a finger against his head, then sat up with a playful kick of his legs. "...Or is he? It would be just like a demon to lie, wouldn't it?" He grabbed Ryan's chin with his burnt and blackened fingernails and forcefully tilted his head up so their gazes met. "You can't tell, can you, vigilante? So, how hard are you willing to throw your broken body around to try and save someone who might already be toast? Maybe you should just give up and go on with your day, hmm?"

While the demon taunted him, Ryan's mind raced to concoct a plan. Some miraculous last-minute solution that would fix everything... Neil would be able to think of one. Perhaps he already had. But that wouldn't do them any good when Neil was trapped and helpless within his own mind. If this really was a demon, and a powerful one at that, the only thing that might work was an impromptu exorcism.

"Crux sacra sit mihi lux! Nunquam draco sit mihi dux! Vade retro Satana!" Reciting the passage from memory as rapidly as he could without tripping over his tongue, Ryan grabbed Neil by the wrists and held him tight while he hissed and tried to jerk away. "Nunquamsuade mihi vana! Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena bibas!"

An ungodly noise somewhere between a shriek and a roar erupted from Neil as he tossed his head back and convulsed. It was far too visually similar for comfort to his electrocution less than a minute prior, and Ryan wondered if the demon was doing it that way on purpose in an attempt to scare him into stopping. If so, it wouldn't work. Even if this process was as painful for Neil as it was for the demon possessing him, it had to be done.

Sure enough, as the final line of the chant echoed across the rooftop, Neil shuddered and slumped to the ground next to Ryan. When their gazes met this time, the demonic glow was gone, but Neil was breathing fast and shallow and his eyes were wide with lingering terror.

"Ryan," he whispered. "You're... alive."

"I think so," he replied with a tentative smile. "It's all a little confusing. But we're going to be okay now, Neil."

However, no sooner had those words left his mouth than Neil stiffened up again, eyes momentarily flashing green. "No," he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head as if to dispel the demon's grasp. "Not yet. Still gotta... get rid of it..." He grabbed Ryan's hands and held them desperately tight, like a scared child clinging to their parent or older sibling. His eyes flashed once more, and this time when the glow faded, his face bore a strained smile. "I've got an idea. Ryan, don't freak out."

And with that, before Ryan could process what was happening and reach out to stop him, Neil sprung to his feet and took a running leap off the edge of the building.

*

For a while now, Neil had been having unusually vivid dreams. They weren't always nightmares, but they often were. Dreams about different worlds, different realities, different lives. Ones where him and Kevin and Ryan weren't all friends. Or worse, ones where they still were, but that wasn't enough to save them. One of those recent dreams, which began as an exciting fantasy only to devolve into a nightmare, was about some kind of flying vehicle. Ever since having that dream, Neil had made two vows to himself. Firstly, that as soon as he gathered the funds to afford it, he'd go back to school and complete his aeronautical engineering degree. Secondly, to always carry a parachute, just in case.

But the demon possessing him had no way of knowing that, now did it? And it wouldn't want to still be trapped inside a host body that was splattered all over the pavement. That was what Neil was banking on, at least. Otherwise he might really be in trouble.

As he fell, a stinging sensation rippled through his body. He shuddered, yet there was a smile on his face--no longer a grin stretched unnaturally wide, but an expression of his own volition--and his heart pounded not with terror but with exhilaration and boundless relief. Sure enough, the demon leapt forth from him and departed in a swirl of green smoke. And with it gone, he wasted no time in engaging the parachute--just in time to slow his acceleration enough that the fall wouldn't kill him.

Admittedly, he didn't exactly come down gracefully. He landed in a tangle of limbs and fabric that he had to shrug off the borrowed jacket, parachute and all, in order to escape, and the landing was just rough enough to deliver a painful reminder of the electrical burns covering the better part of his body. Still, Neil couldn't stop grinning as he gingerly picked himself up and dusted himself off. He was alive and no longer possessed; that was a win in his book.

When he craned his neck to look up at the roof, he thought he saw Ryan still sitting there. Neil grimaced as he recalled what the demon had said about breaking Ryan's back; hopefully that injury was undone with the demon being vanquished, but since Neil's injuries were still there, maybe that wasn't so. Either way, he couldn't just leave his friend up there alone.

As quickly as he could run with a bullet wound in his foot, he entered the building and took the closest elevator to the rooftop. But by the time the elevator chimed and its doors slid open, the rooftop was abandoned, with no sign of Ryan save for an abandoned hat, cape, and gloves, and a slowly fading dark red stain.

*

If Kevin hadn't already been surprised to wake up alive the first time, he sure as hell was now. The only reason he knew he was alive at all was the deep, persistent ache that wracked practically his entire body. That, and the warmth of the hand laid atop his own.

Forcing his eyes open with a pained groan, he turned his head to see the man sitting at his bedside. Ryan squeezed his hand and flashed him a sad smile when their eyes met. His vigilante costume was gone, traded for a simple dress shirt and tie, and his hair fell unpinned around his visibly tired face; the chair he sat in, upon closer inspection, was an old-fashioned wheelchair.

With some effort, Kevin pushed himself into a sitting position. Looking around, he found that he was laying on the couch in the living room with his chest bandaged. How Ryan had managed to pull him out from beneath the bookcase, he had no idea, but he sure wasn't going to complain about it.

"Ryan, you... you're hurt?" It was a stupid question--why else would he be in a wheelchair? "Did the demon...?"

"It's gone now," Ryan responded. "But..." His gaze lowered, and he dropped his hands into his lap to fidget with the blanket draped over his legs. "It was a costly victory, I'm afraid. In order to defeat the demon, Neil--"

His tearful speech was interrupted by the distant bang of the front door being thrown open.

"Geez, you could've told me you were going straight home!" Neil's indignant voice rang out down the hall. "I wandered all over town looking for you."

Ryan's head snapped up, and he and Kevin turned in unison to see their friend running toward them with a slightly crooked gait. With a cry of joyous disbelief, Ryan opened his arms, and Neil tackled him in an embrace that nearly sent him toppling over; Kevin had to lean forward to grab the back of Ryan's chair to keep him upright as he and Neil clung to each other.

"Neil, you're alive! I-I thought..."

"It's okay, Ryan," said Neil. Then, pulling back and glancing at Kevin with a melancholy smile: "I think we're all going to be okay."

*

"So, what do you think?"

As the ending credits rolled on their latest webisode, Neil and Kevin turned to face Ryan with matching expectant grins.

"Well..." Ryan drummed his fingers against the keys of the laptop and tried to think of something positive to say. "The costumes you used were a lot more fashionable than usual--wait, hold on. Weren't those my clothes?"

They were in Kevin's truck parked outside the studio's headquarters, with Neil in the passenger seat and Ryan in the back. It had taken a little over a week for them to recover to the point where they could comfortably climb inside a vehicle, let alone Kevin being able to actually drive, and the studio had already sent them several notes warning them that their pay would be docked for submitting their webisode behind schedule.

"Ah, yeah, sorry about that," Kevin muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"To be fair, if he hadn't broken into your house and stolen a bunch of stuff from you, he couldn't have called you on your communicator watch," Neil interjected cheerfully. "Or tried to do an exorcism... but I guess that didn't really work out for him anyway."

"Hey, c'mon, it wasn't stealing!" Kevin gave Neil a gentle shove, prompting him to briefly wince but laugh anyway. "If we'd known you were still alive, we wouldn't have taken your stuff, Ryan, honest."

"Ah, I'll have to remember that for next time," Ryan quipped. He closed the laptop and handed it back to Neil, who tucked it away inside an oversized shoulder bag. "Well, that may not have been the best webisode we've made, but I can tell you two did your best."

"Yeah, it'll be way better once we get back to making them as a trio," Neil said.

It was still amazing to Ryan that his friends were so quick to accept him back after all he'd done. If anything, it made him feel worse about his prolonged absence, because he knew now that he could have come back at any point and they would have been glad to have him. It was easy to fall into regret when thinking of all that had gone wrong, and all that could easily have gone even worse. But the fact was, they were together again now--altered by what they'd gone through, and not entirely for the better, but still themselves.

And despite it all, the preceding events and the possibility that another horrible thing could happen to them in the future, he found himself agreeing with Neil's hopeful statement.

"Indeed..." Ryan reached out and took Neil and Kevin's hands in his own. They smiled back at him with the same residual traces of relief in their eyes that Ryan had felt every so often over the past week--relief that they were still there to smile at each other. "Gentlemen, I look forward to working with you again."

¤--END--¤

[bluebirdsbluebells]

You Get What You Get - part one

Summary: One mistake. One little mistake. That was all it took for everything to suddenly flip. You knew that you should’ve stayed in that night, and you were right from the beginning. You should’ve never let the blonde from the beach walk you home, you were paying the price for it.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader (Topper x reader too but it’s not romanticized like at all)

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: swearing, angst, Topper being a control biatch, fighting

My masterlist!

A/N: okay so I know that I just started the “Made You Up” series like a week or two ago, but I finished Outer Banks and I’ve seen a lot of really great fics on here, so I decided to write one of my own! I haven’t seen many on here where the Obx crew are actually going to school, so I thought that I would incorporate that into it heavily. It’s going to take a little bit for JJ and Y/N to kind of… get familiar with each other so please be patient; this chapter was just more about introducing Y/N and a snippet of her life. Hope you guys enjoy it! My writing is still a little rusty…

_______________________________________________________________________

Seven times. That’s how many times he had asked you. Seven times. Topper wouldn’t quit it. Over and over and over, and by the fifth time you were starting to get a little peeved. It wasn’t that you didn’t like partying, but you had schoolwork to do. Loads and loads of schoolwork, and the deadline was Sunday night. That was the next day. You didn’t have time to follow Topper and his crazy ass friends to some kegger on the beach; grinding down on the work was the only thing that mattered to you. All you needed was a set of good headphones, a big glass of ice water, some chips and salsa, and you would be set for the night.

But Topper just wasn’t letting up.

“Please Y/N?” He begged, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. You groaned under your breath as you stepped back. His hands slid down your arms, and then they fell to his side. “Please?”

“Topper,” you sighed heavily. “We’ve been over this. Last week I had two overdue assignments. I don’t want Mrs. Markey to-”

“You’ll have plenty of time to get them finished tomorrow, okay?” He pleaded, but you just shook your head, sinking down in front of your desk. You had left the curtains open, and in the horizon you could see the sun was beginning to set. It would be only a matter of time before it would be too late to head out. Surely Topper would give up at some point, but then again he was a pretty stubborn guy. Seven months together and he had proved that to you thoroughly.

“Topper, I’m serious,” you said, shaking your head at him again. His shoulders sank as he stared at you, and then he glanced to the side as if he was trying to keep it together. You knew that he was upset, but you also knew that you couldn’t just leave. 

School was your top priority. It was your junior year after all; the hardest grade so far. That was what everyone had told you when you were still a sophomore, and boy were they ever right. You had thought that the tenth grade was tough, but junior year had really shown you every trick it had up its sleeve. Assignments due almost every weekend, tests and quizzes nearly every week, endless amounts of studying and review, countless flashcards to be made… you just couldn’t keep up. But with your parents being on the wealthier side, you knew that you had to try and make them proud by creating a solid future for yourself. Nowadays it seemed like grades were the only way to really get their attention. It wasn’t their fault -- they were busy people -- but over time it had taken a little bit of a toll on you.

“Y/N,” Topper started again. “I just don’t think this is very fair.”

“Fair?” You asked, craning your neck around to give him a look. “I have grades that I need to keep up with Topper.”

“You have a ninety-five average, you’ll be fine,” he answered shortly, his head dropping slightly to the side as he looked at you. You could see the tense flex of his jaw when he spoke.

“It took a lot of work to get where I am,” you replied, turning back to the books and papers in front of you. With your thumb you pulled open your laptop and punched in your password, but just as you were about to begin on your first assignment the screen was slammed shut.

“Hey!” You yelled, looking up at Topper with a glare. 

“It’s one night,” Topper said, his brows drawing together. “Come on.” “I said no.” “You’re being stubborn, Y/N. I only want what’s best for you, okay? And going out to have a little fun would be good for you.” You frowned at him. “Good for me?” “You haven’t been out in ages. I’m just trying to look out for you! I want to make sure that you keep up your social life.” “My social life?”

“You haven’t gone out with me in over three weeks.” Topper stared down at you hardly, and you felt your shoulders sag. It was true, you hadn’t been out with him in ages, but to be fair you had been busy with volunteering and working and school. There wasn’t much time for anything else.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” “Do you not like spending time with me anymore?” Topper asked, and your jaw dropped open with shock at the accusation.

“No! That’s not it! I said that I was busy with-” “I think you’re putting school before me.” You exhaled slowly, trying to control the emotions that you were feeling. Frustration was slowly bubbly up inside of you. He just didn’t get it. His parents would probably pass everything down to him. He probably wouldn’t have to work a day in his life. Even though your parents were ‘rich’ they weren’t making things easy for you. They had made it very clear that if you wanted something, you would have to work for it just like everyone else. In a way you admired them, because you knew how hard they worked to get where they were too.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea tonight, that’s all. If it was any other night, I would’ve gone. I’m sorry Topper.”

He rolled his tongue along his teeth, then let out a snort of a laugh. “You say that every fucking time. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, just tell me. In order to be in a relationship you kind of need to see the other person.”

There was an angry pit that was beginning to form in your stomach, and then all of a sudden you were on your feet, staring up at Topper with frustration and guilt. “Fine!” You snapped. “I’ll go.”

You hated giving Topper the satisfaction that he had won you over yet again, but you knew that if you didn’t play the good girlfriend role, the night would be a whole hell of a lot worse. You didn’t have much of a choice except to climb into the backseat of Rafe’s fucking whatever kind of new car -- BMW most likely -- that he had and plaster on a fake grin. 

It seemed like the ignored homework was already starting to have its effect on you, and you could feel the weight as you stepped out of the car and out onto the sand. You didn’t know where Rafe parked it, but you knew that you were absolutely not going home with him. You didn’t mind plenty of things, but drinking and driving was one that you just couldn’t condone.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Topper yelled as he spotted the roaring fire. His hand instantly snaked its way around your waist, and you were pulled tightly against his side as you headed towards the beach, following the sounds of the laughter, music and shouting.

You were always shocked that these kinds of things rarely got shut down. They were loud, messy and at least one fight always broke out. Normally between a Kook and a Pogue, but sometimes it was just playful banter between friends that turned into something else very quickly. Keggers were just wild in general. You didn’t hate them, but you could think of a few different preferred ways to spend your evenings, your homework being one of them.

“Topper?” You heard a voice from behind you, and Topper spun around, causing you to be dragged along as well. You were met with the grin of Kelce, one of Topper’s other friends. Kelce wasn’t as bad as Rafe, but he wasn’t fantastic either. None of Topper’s friends were anything special, but you would never dare to say anything.

“Kelce,” Topper greeted under his breath, as if to say ‘you son of a bitch’. “Knew you’d be around here.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kelce replied, slapping Topper on the back. Your boyfriend's grip loosened on you, and you looked around, trying to see if you could spot any more familiar faces. Your two best friends -- Emerson and Scarlett -- had said that they were probably going to hit the kegger, but it was unlikely that you would spot them. The darkness was taking over the place quickly, and even with the roaring fire it was tough to make out exact faces. 

You were a little tense at the beginning of the night, mostly because of Topper’s friends, but as soon as you got a beer in your hand you loosened up a little. Topper and you even danced a little bit, which made you laugh a little more than you thought it would, but the moment was quickly ruined when Rafe pulled Topper away, saying that he needed to show him something. After getting yourself another beer, you followed absentmindedly, and the sight that you were met with was one that you didn’t think you’d see. “What are you doing?” You asked Topper as he pressed his nose down to the hood of some random parked car. Coke. Cocaine. He was doing drugs, right there in front of you. “You want some?” Rafe asked, raising one brow as you stared at the two boys. You glared at Rafe, then looked back at Topper, who wiped his nose quickly before rocking back on his heels. He hooted out, and Rafe began to grin as he slapped his back, congratulating him. You shook your head at the two of them, feeling a pit starting to grow in your stomach. “You dragged me all the way out here just so that you could ditch to do drugs?” You asked, and your words were cold, but they were also laced with the slightest hint of disappointment. It wasn’t anything that you hadn’t expected from Topper, but it still was disheartening to see.

You had never done anything other than smoked weed, and you hadn’t planned on doing anything worse than that.

Topper seemed to snap out of his excited state, and he narrowed his eyes at you. “You didn’t have to follow us.”

You snorted. “I meant to the kegger, not here. Jesus Topper.”

Rafe and him exchanged glances, and then Rafe shook his head at you.

“Let the boy do what he wants, would you?” Rafe scoffed, and the comment made you tense up. Oh, how you wished that Topper would let you do what you wanted. Why was it always about him?

“I’m gonna go,” you mumbled, backing away slowly, and Topper rolled his eyes at you, a laugh escaping from his lips.

“Oh don’t be so uptight Y/N!” He yelled, but you had already turned and were headed back to the party. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone, mostly because the chances of it being worth your time were slim to none, so you started towards the water. The amount of people dwindled the closer you got to the ocean, and you were grateful for that; just a few couples making out here and there, but it wasn’t an issue to you. It was more peaceful with the waves and the moon -- which was only partially hidden behind a cloud.

You sank down in the sand, liking the way its coolness grazed your legs. You were definitely buzzed from the beers and shots that you had taken, but you weren’t bad enough that you couldn’t make it home. You knew you would be fine.

“Shit!” Someone cursed behind you, and you turned your neck, frowning slightly at the racket. A boy was stumbling through the grass, a beer in his hand. It sloshed out of the bottle with every step that he took, and it looked like he was swatting at something… or stumbling over something? You couldn’t really tell. “You okay?” You called, and the boy looked up, his face pinched up as he tried to find the girl who matched the voice. “Shit!” Was his only reply, and then he darted out of the grass, stumbling down the sand and damn near running you over.

“Jesus!” You muttered, scooching away from the boy. He looked around him once, then twice, then his eyes landed on you. He ran one hand through his messy blonde hair as he stared down at you, as if he was trying to see if he recognized you. “What happened?” You asked when he didn’t say anything, and then you looked back towards the grass, trying to see if someone else was there, but you couldn’t spot anyone.

“Well,” the boy started, and then he plopped down beside you, only a few feet away. “I was taking a piss and then I see something moving in the grass. You know what it was?” He glanced over at you, then placed the bottle up to his lips, taking one quick swig before continuing. “Fucking snake.”

Your eyes widened, and you brought a hand up to your mouth.

“No way,” you said, and he nodded, brushing his hair back from his face. You then squinted at him, because he did look familiar. The blonde hair, blue eyes, muscle tee and cargo shorts with scraped up black boots. You recognized him from school. You couldn’t quite remember his name, but you knew it was something short… Joe? No. You shook your head at yourself, and the boy looked back over at you.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked, face scrunching up at you. “Party is back there sweetheart.” He flicked his thumb over his shoulder, and you looked back towards the crowd. Your cheeks got slightly red at the pet name, but you brushed it off.

“Just needed some air,” you replied, shrugging slightly as you wrapped your arms around your knees. “What, the air over there wasn’t good enough?” The boy asked snarkily, and you rolled your eyes at him, glancing over once more. “Funny,” you commented. “Don’t know, I had a lot of homework to do and-”

“Homework?” The boy asked, his eyes widening as his eyebrows shot up. He then clicked his tongue at you, his tongue swiping out over his lower lip. “I wouldn’t be so worried about homework if I were you.”

You rolled your eyes at him again. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh really?” He asked, and then he twisted his body to face yours. “Try me.” You opened your mouth, then closed it again. How would you explain everything? It was just mainly your parents, but it was also you. The pressure that you put on yourself; your need to feel accomplished; your need to feel good at something. All your life you hadn’t really felt like you had a knack at anything. Some people in the obx were good at surfing, or good at fishing or drawing or singing or golfing. You didn’t really have anything like that, so you just always turned to school. Your grades felt validating, and therefore you felt validated. It was a hard situation to explain to a boy that you vaguely recognized, and it wasn’t one that you really talked about. 

“I’m waiting,” he said, and then pretended to check an imaginary watch.

“I just like school, that’s all.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“Don’t get invited much?” The boy teased, and he poked the tip of his boot against your flip flop. You swallowed hardly, shaking your head at him defensively.

“Not true!”

“Oh.” The boy smirked at you, and he placed the bottle in the sand beside him. “That’s the real winner.” “It is not!” You defended, crossing your arms over your chest tightly. “I get invited to plenty of things!” “But don’t like them?” He narrowed his eyes. “Sounds fishy to me sweetheart.” “Don’t call me that,” you snapped, and he only grinned back at you. The flash of his wickedly straight, white teeth seemed to flick a switch inside you, and you suddenly realized where he was from. Rafe’s sister Sarah was dating one of his friends. The friend was John B, and the boy in front of you was JJ. JJ Maybanks. He was one year above you, and you knew he had some classes with Topper because Topper had complained about him before. “Those trashy Pogues,” Topper would say. “I’m going to slaughter them all one day. Especially that fucking JJ.” He was a troublemaker, that was for sure. Always getting kicked out of class or scoring himself a detention. That was when he actually showed up to school. Him and John B used to skip all the time, but ever since John B started dating Sarah he had spontaneously decided that he wanted to better his education. Not for JJ though.

“I recognize you,” you blurted, and JJ cocked his head, a light hum of curiosity escaping his lips. “You’re JJ.”

“Am I?” He replied, wiggling his eyebrows, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Even though you knew that he wasn’t the best kid, you felt comfortable with him all of a sudden. A lot less tense than you had been with Topper and Rafe.

“You’re in senior year.” “Kind of.” He shrugged, and you frowned at him.

“Kind of?” “When I show up,” JJ replied smugly, and then he gave you a quick wink that made a blush creep to your cheeks. “Thought I hadn’t seen you around much,” you answered, and he smirked at you, brushing his blonde hair back out of his eyes.

“So you look for me then? Makes sense sweetheart, I would look for me too.”

“I-” “Now I know you’re walking the halls though…” He shrugged, “maybe I’ll show up more often.” The back of your neck got hot, and you opened and closed your mouth. You probably looked fucking stupid, but you didn’t know what to say back. In the pit of your stomach you felt a tiny flip, and you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or his response. There was no way that he didn’t know who you were. It was a cocky kind of thing to say, but if Topper knew him, he definitely knew Topper, and if they both knew each other, the chances of JJ knowing you were pretty high. You had never really had a conversation with him before; only ever really seen him in passing, so you weren’t sure, but Topper made it pretty clear to everyone that you were his girl.  “I should get going,” you blurted suddenly, and JJ let out a laugh. It was low and rumbled from the back of his throat, and all of a sudden there was a shiver that shot down your spine. You stood up quickly, brushing the sand off of your shorts. JJ stood up too, doing the same to his own clothes.

“I can walk you,” he said, and it was more a statement than a suggestion. “T-that’s okay,” you started, glancing over your shoulder. You had no idea what Topper was doing, but you just prayed that he wouldn’t notice you slipping away. He would most likely bash you about it the next day, but you didn’t care. You had had enough of the kegger anyways.

“No, it’s seriously fine,” JJ replied casually, and he tilted his head at you. “Unless you’re scared?” “Scared of you?” You snorted. “Why would I be?” “Cause I’m a Pogue and you’re a pretty little princess Kook.” You frowned at him, slightly taken aback. There was always banter between the Pogues and the Kooks, but it had never really mattered to you. Of course you should’ve known that it would’ve made a difference to JJ though. Him and his friends were all anti-pogue. Well, that was until it came to Sarah. You really had no idea though.

“Of course,” you replied shortly, rolling your eyes again. “Well, a Kook girl needs to get back to her homework. So if you would please excuse me, I need to get out of here.” “You’re excused.” JJ bowed in front of you, and you let out a short giggle, then bit your lip, trying to hold it back. That was definitely the alcohol. “But I’m coming with you.” “You can’t!” You replied, and you started walking backwards away from him, but he followed, holding his hands up in defense. “But I can,” JJ said, and the right side of his mouth perked up into a lopsided grin. “Literally try and stop me baby. You can’t do it.” The name made your stomach flip, but again you brushed it off. You turned away from him and began walking along the beach, but you could hear him following you; kicking sand around and throwing rocks. “So why were you really hiding?” JJ finally asked after a good ten minutes of silence. You were about another ten minutes from your place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, tipping your head back to look up at the sky. A few clouds drifted past, but it was mostly clear. A nice night. You wouldn’t be closing the curtains, you knew that for sure.

“I think you do,” JJ answered smugly, and you glanced over at him. He had jogged to catch up with you, and he was running his fingers through his hair as he spoke. “What happened? Your friends ditch you? Had a bad trip? Some crazy bitch try and hit on you?” You laughed. “Yes to the last one. He’s trying to follow me home.” JJ gave you a look to that one, and you let out another laugh, starting to relax again. You were worried that Topper was following you, or that Rafe would drive up in his fucking BMW and just slaughter the two of you, but it was nothing but a worry. Topper probably hadn’t even noticed that you had left, and Rafe was probably too high to even step inside his car. “I’m being serious,” JJ continued. “What happened?” “I’m being serious too! I was having a great time sitting in silence, and then all of a sudden this weirdo-” “Hey!” JJ nudged you lightly, and your skin got warm at his touch. “I’m the one trying to keep the weirdo’s away, alright?” “Alright,” you answered, giving him a bit of a side-eye. He was grinning to himself. “And seriously, I didn’t want to go in the first place. It was time for me to leave.” “Someone must’ve made you go though,” JJ said quietly, and he kicked a rock along the sand. “Topper?” Ah, so he did know. 

“Uh yeah,” you mumbled uncomfortably. “He did.”

The houses were beginning to get larger, and you knew that you were getting closer to your place. Fairly soon you would have to tell JJ to leave, just in case Topper or someone was waiting. You just couldn’t risk it.

“There she is!”

Oh fuck.

You spun around to face the road, which was a good fifteen feet away from the beach, but still giving Rafe and Topper the perfect view of you and JJ. You felt your stomach drop to two things. Rafe driving was the first, but the second was the argument you knew would be coming. There was no way Topper would be okay with you walking home with some other guy, especially not JJ. “Topper,” you breathed, and then you turned to JJ, shaking your head at him. “You gotta get out of here.” He frowned at you. “Why? I can take ‘em.” “No!” You said a little too forcefully, and JJ cocked a brow. You heard a car door slam, and turned around to see Topper stumbling around the side of the vehicle. He was heavily under the influence, it didn’t take a genius to see that. You could practically smell the liquor on his breath.

“Who’s that Y/N?” He yelled down at you.  He wasn’t even that far away -- maybe ten or fifteen feet -- but you knew that the low lighting mixed with his state was preventing him from seeing anything.

“Your cockblock!” JJ yelled before you could usher him away, and you saw as Topper tilted his head, his face twisting up in confusion.

“JJ? Is that you?” He yelled. “I’ll beat your bitch ass up!” “Oh really?” JJ called back, and he winked at you, sending a new wave through your body. A wave of fear. “If you can take me.” “JJ just walk away please,” you said, holding out your hands to try and steady him, but he was already making his way towards the car. Topper was doing the same; barrelling in your direction, fists clenched.

Even though you saw his arm swing up, you didn’t actually think that Topper would hit JJ. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, but then again it moved so quickly. One minute JJ was beside you, and then the next minute he was ramming his fist into the side of Topper’s face.

“Stop!” You yelled, and your stomach twisted up into several knots at the sound of the bone on bone contact. You rushed up the sand, and then through the grass, wondering what the hell you could do to stop them. Your mind was hazed, and you couldn’t seem to figure out anything, so you just kept yelling. “Topper stop that! JJ get off of him!” You tried to grab Topper’s fist as it swung back, but he was too strong, and it just slammed into JJ’s jaw. You could see the dark liquid that began to drip from his nose, and it made your knees go weak.

“You hit even worse when you’re wasted,” JJ whispered sharply at Topper, and your boyfriend let out an angry grunt, his knee ramming up into JJ’s stomach. You yelped out as JJ doubled over, and Topper jammed his knee into the side of the blonde’s face. “Topper!” You shrieked, and then you sunk to the ground beside JJ, your hands instantly grabbing his shoulders. You tried to get a better look at his face, but he shielded it from you, and you saw the blood that dripped off his chin and onto the grass. It made your stomach churn. “Get away from him Y/N,” Topper said lowly, and he grabbed your bicep, pulling you away from JJ, who was gasping on the ground. You tried to yank your arm out of Topper’s grip, but he only tightened it, his nails digging into your skin. You winced lightly, and he pulled you behind him. “No!” You yelled as Rafe’s arms wrapped around your torso. Your feet lifted from the ground, and you tried to kick back at Rafe, but he was holding onto you tight against his chest.

“Get just in the fucking car,” he muttered, throwing open the back door and trying to force you inside. It wouldn’t have mattered who the victim was in the situation; you hated seeing people hurt, and in that case, JJ was the one that was hurt. You knew that Topper could get angry, but you didn’t expect him to throw punches so openly in front of you. And hard ones too. You should’ve just denied letting JJ come along with you. You should’ve been harsher to him, then maybe he would’ve been okay.

“The fuck you doing with my girl, huh Pogue?” Topper growled, kicking JJ lightly in the side again. You watched as JJ looked over at you, then up at Topper. He sucked in a breath, then spit out the blood that had been collecting in his mouth. “Wow Topper,” JJ replied coldly. “How’d you ever manage to score her? Gave up your life insurance? Forfeit your pension plan? Paid her parents? Or maybe-” “Shut the fuck up!” Topper yelled, ramming his foot into JJ’s side once more before spinning on his heel. Rafe managed to finally get you into the back of the car, and he slammed the door quickly, narrowly missing your fingers.

You watched as Topper stormed around the side of the car, and when he climbed inside you knew that it was over for you.

“Fucking drive,” he spat to Rafe, who whistled lowly under his breath. “Topper I-” “I don’t want to hear it,” he cut you off, malice in his voice. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

You dropped your head, your heart sinking. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to think. It had all happened so fast. And JJ… it was all your fault. You shouldn’t have listened to Topper in the first place. You knew that staying at home was the best option, and you were paying the price for being right.

[the-hate-keeps-me-warm]

More than a memory

Sorry if this is formatted really horriblly I finished this up on mobile I hope you like this there’s about 2 paragraphs I cut of ruby nerding out

Once they got to Vacuo oscar was sorta unofficially a huntsman now laws are a lot looser here so he’s been saving quite a bit of money from going on missions after team rwby and Jaune came back it was weird they were only gone a month but so much had changed the merge was almost finished he could feel it every day he felt less like himself he didn’t even object when Theodore called him oz anymore he and ruby weren’t as close anymore whatever happened wherever they were changed her he got bits and pieces from Jaune and yang but the others kept quiet he knew that he’d be gone soon so he wanted to leave something for her kinda like proof that they ever met in the first place so he was now standing in a vacuan market at 12 am alone with a lot of lien on him this was probably a bad idea but at one point he heard ruby ramble about this gun shop that they were the best at what they do so he called made an appointment it just so happens they prefer to see let’s just say unofficial clients at night he knocked at the door it read “bikal bullets” it opened and an old owl faunas man opens it his large yellow eyes are piercing “hello mister pine headmaster theodore told me to expect you” oscar rubs his hands together “yes mister bikal he said to come late” mr Bikal leads him inside on the walls hang dozens of expensive weapons “so mr pine what are you looking for” oscar took the blue prints out of his bag and set them down on the drawing table “um im looking for something custom built its for a friend” mr bikal takes the blue prints and examines them “these are pretty impressive mr pine did you draft these yourself theses yourself” oscar nods “mostly i had a little help with the math part of it but the mechanical stuff i did myself” mr bikal nods “something like this will cost a good amount even with the discount you get for being school staff” oscar nods “do you have an estimate on the price and how long it'll take to make” mr bikal snaps his teeth “around 12000 lien and 2 weeks” oscar nods he had 140000 saved up but he did want to buy some more things for the others “alright i can uh i can afford that” mr bikal goes over to what looks like a drawing table and pins them up “i will start work immediately mr pine you make your payment on completion if you desire the school has credit with me the price includes 3 magazines and a case so that will also be custom made shall you pick it up or would you prefer its delivered” oscar stands uncomfortably as mr bikal starts measuring out pieces of fine metal “ill pick it up dont worry” mr bikal nods and says “alright mister pine your can go now its not a good look for a young man to be out so late especially so close to the red light district” oscars face gets red “yes of course” oscar leaves and walks back to the academy sneaking back into his dorm room was easy tho nora did pester him about where hed been he had left a note saying when he would be back for the next 2 weeks he kept a poker face nora helped him set up his bank account so the sudden spending of 12000 lien did give her pause so she decided to ask him about it

He was sitting on his bed reading some Treatise about some long-forgotten subject she knocked on the bedpost and he looks up “hey Nora did you need something” she sat at the end of his bed “hey what did you spend 12 thousand lien on” he hides his face “please don’t tell anyone it was on something for ruby” she smiles “ah young love I was worried that you wouldn’t make your move so what kind of thing sets you back 12 thousand it’s something big right” he nods his head “its a gun i-i had it commissioned for and it’s not really cause I’m trying to make a move or anything it’s more like a going away gift” Nora frowns and shakes his leg “where you going taking a vacation or something” he feels tears bite the edge of his eyes “Nora the merge it’s soon I know it won’t be long until I’m gone and I want you all to remember me but her especially I don’t want to be just a memory” he struggles to keep the tears at bay but nora pulls him into a hug tighter but somehow softer than her usual ones “hey you will never ever be just a memory you will always be you and even if your not you'll always be one of us we all love you so much” and then the damn breaks and he sobs into her shoulder “i don't wanna go away nora i want to live i wanna go to school see my aunt again” she rubs his back and says “i know sweetie you'll get to do all that ok i promise” he sniffles “nora i need you to do something for me if i do disappear ok i need you to go back to my aunt and tell her everything ok it can't be oz ok don't tell her how to find him it won't make sense i'll just hurt worse i dont want that for her” she nods “i won't ever have to do that ok but i promise” she holds him until he stops crying and they take a a a nap they always helped him calm down

Finally, after a long 2 weeks, he goes to pick it up when he goes inside Mr. Baikal shows him the box it’s a beautiful dark red mahogany wood he opens the case and looks at the pistol inside its silvered handle and barrel were beautiful he’s almost afraid to touch it the engravings were perfect exactly as he had drawn them if not better the moon and rose he had designed look perfect he takes it gently in his hands he looks down the sights the night sights glow a brilliant carmine red he looks at the magazine even it was of an amazing quality everything down to the smallest detail was exactly as he pictured it he sets it back into the case “thank you, mister, Bikal it's absolutely perfect” Mr. Bikal smiles and nods “I’m glad everything is to your satisfaction Mr pine if you find there is anything wrong with it or you want something changed everything I make comes with a lifetime warranty the paperwork is in the case as well as a certificate stating that I am in fact its builder” they shake hands and oscar takes it home in his bag he excitedly gets back to his dorm he sets it down still in his bag on his bed now all he have to do is give it to her

He sits on it for a few days but finally decides to just give it to her oz has his reservations about this but decided that oscar deserves this to maybe say goodbye in his own way

Ruby was going on walks around shade it’s something he noticed so he waited for her to go on one of those walks it was cool in vacuo at night the air was nice compared to the oppressive heat of the day she was meandering along the walkways he followed behind her a bit the case hung heavy in his bag even tho it wasn’t heavy at all after a while she sits at an old wooden bench overlooking the gardens he approaches and she perks up “oh hey oscar are you going somewhere” she says pointing to his bag he shakes his head “do you mind if I sit” she shakes her head “no go-ahead did you need to talk, something about Theodore?” he sits down on the other side of the bench gently setting his bag between them “no uh no I just uh I wanted to give you something” he opens his bag and takes the case out holding it out to her she takes it “it’s not my birthday is it this looks really nice you didn't have to do this” ruby says smiling “well i've been wanting to do something nice for you” oscar says rubbing the back of his neck she lifts the top and gasp gently lifting it from its case “oscar this is this is amazing” she drops the magazine and pulls the slide back making sure its clear and runs her hand along the engraving her symbol etched into the left side of the grip “oh thanks i uh actually designed it myself oz helped me with the math” she looks at him her eyes wide “oscar it took me 8 attempts to successfully design a functioning crescent rose gun design is really hard how long did you spend on this” oscar blushes “the idea kinda started in atlas i was gonna ask you to help me make one so i wouldn't have to rely on my cane but everything happen and when you were gone i kept messing with the idea and i kept thinking about you so i kinda ended up designing it for you more than me eventually do you like it” ruby scoffs “oscar do i like it i love it its probably the single greatest gift anyones ever given me” he smiles wide “really that makes me really happy I was worried you wouldn’t like it” she sets it back gently into its case “really Oscar it’s amazing you have a knack for design your gonna have to show me the draft notes and everything cause this is this is amazing I can’t wait to shoot it this is wow” she chokes up and he leans down “ruby are you ok” she nods wiping her face of nonexistent tears “no worries this is just really cool and sweet and god your so amazing” he felt his heart flutter and his cheeks heat up “the guy who built it that bikal guy you talked about was just as great as you always said” she puts a hand on his shoulder “are you telling me Hephaestus bikal made this Oscar” she says seriously “uh yeah why is that bad” she kisses his cheek and squeals “oh my god your amazing this is now even better god I could die happy wait his rates are insane how did you afford this” still recoiling from the kiss he bites his lip “uh huntsmen work” she narrows her eyes “how much did this cost Oscar it had to be expensive” he shakes his head “not telling it’s a gift you don’t need to worry about it just enjoy it” she punches his arm “I will but I am going to repay you for this somehow ok” “you already did” he says quietly he says rubbing the back of his neck “ruby I don’t really know how long I have left and I would like to spend at least some of it with you I understand if you don’t I know it might make it harder when I’m gone bu-whoa” he’s pulled into a hug she pulls his head into her shoulder and holds him tight “I wanna spend more time with you too but you will always be Oscar ok oz is oz you are you” he sighs and smiles “see what I mean by paying me back”

[dai-bendu-conlang]

Jesara! Uera'ah foh a'ain nevi sedoremak vrhu nak kewanan uu Dai Bendu. ¿A'ainah keel nev det zera? [tried] foh: Tumi eno'ah sooan, ji tumi eno'ah kai'an; tumi eno'ah imleoan, ji tumi eno'ah wanan (leoan?); tumi eno'ah (passion), ji tumi eno'ah (serenity); tumi eno'ah (chaos), ji tumi eno'ah aimato; tumi eno'ah keraian, ji tumi eno'ah Dai. [aiming for: Hello! I would like to translate the Jedi Code Mantra into Dai Bendu. How would you say this? I tried:] Qasreash!

i tried to translate some of the classic meditation mantra into dai bendu (the one everyone calls the code). there were some limitations in vocab, so i just went with the last part. i ended up translating it as "xai eno'ah imkerai'anak mellu, eno'ah dai", my attempt at "where (because of the force) there is no death, is the force." i didn't quite know where to put "mellu" though tbh

Have you done the Jedi mantra in Dai Bendu? Specifically the version which goes "Emotion, yet peace/Ignorance, yet knowledge" etc?

Hello! Sorry for the late reply, Tevya, we already discussed this on the server, but here for the public:

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.

Im tumi tamah soo’yth, ji xai enoah kai’an. Im tumi tamah delahm, ji xai enoah leo’yth. Im tumi tamah bexlyth, ji xai enoah maijah. Im tumi tamah chiiuth, ji xai enoah aimato. Im tumi tamah kerai’yth, ji xai enoah Dai.

Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.

Soo’yth, kyii kai’an. Delahm, kyii leo’yth. Bexlyth, kyii maijah. Chiiuth, kyii aimato. Kerai’yth, kyii Dai.

Life would be easier if we could just leave the code here, but unfortunately this is something the fandom fights and dissects over and over again. Therefore, we will elaborate a little on our word choices here and our interpretation of the code. First things first, we say this openly: This is, of course, yet another interpretation of the code. This is colored by our view on the Jedi and what we assume this code is supposed to mean and serve as. We don’t claim this is The Meaning Of The Code, but the way we understand it in English and then attempt to give it nuance in Dai Bendu. You are, of course, welcome to disregard this or make your own translation of it!

That being said, let’s get started with the purpose of the code. First, something about i’s history. Research done by the wonderful @ilummoss in this post.

What is now commonly called the “Jedi Code” originates from a 1987 roleplaying rulebook (Star Wars: The Roleplaying Game)

The second “yet” version shows up in Kanan: First Blood

This “code” is a mantra and not a code of conduct/law

Now let’s turn to the purpose of the Code/Mantra! The Jedi Code is one of the first things the younglings learn in the temple, which we assume means that you kind of learn it at the age you also end up learning nursery rhymes. You can see them chant it, repeat it. The purpose of mantras is to help focus/calm your mind. So, what conclusion can we draw from this? This Code is likely supposed to help the children focus on their connection to the Force so it must be an instrument to teach them how to interact with it.

From this, we draw our first conclusion: The second half of each line (peace, knowledge, serenity, harmony) is about the Force. The Force is all of these attributed.

Our second conclusion, derived from this, is that the first half of each line (emotion, ignorance, passion, chaos, death) are the things you bring with you into the Force. In moderation, all of these things are good. Being happy, knowing which knowledge is good for you, being passionate about something you love, knowing life can be a bit chaotic, and death, which is a part of life.

However, when you don’t keep those in check, they overwhelm you, twist and become negative. Contrasting Obi-Wan, who does feel emotion, deeply, and yet doesn’t get overwhelmed, while Anakin does and it ruins him, shows this very neatly. So these aspects can all be wonderful, but you have to be careful not to drag them with you into the Force or use them to access the Force in such a way.

Now, let’s get started on our translation. Let’s start easy with the nouns and do it line by line:

There is no emotion, there is peace. - Im tumi tamah soo’yth, ji xai enoah kai’an

soo’yth, nominalization of the verb soo, which means “to feel” in an emotional sense. kai’an, meaning “inner peace” As in being at peace with yourself e.g. basically the state required for Force Ghosting.

This line is pretty similar to its English equivalent. We wanted to emphasize that peace is not a state of being that’s everywhere or political, but it’s something inside you. The quiet in the eye of the storm.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. - Im tumi tamah delahm, ji xai enoah leo’yth

delahm is an interesting noun as it refers to “ignorance” as well as “the inability to help”. We wondered what kind of background a term such as ignorance has especially in the context of the Jedi valuing knowledge and learning a lot. As such we defined that “ignorance” would correspond more closely to the inability to help. As long as you know something, or aware of where you stand, you are not helpless. leo’yth is the nominalization of the verb leo meaning “to know” and so “knowledge”.

With this line, we really wanted to dig into this idea of knowledge is not just factual knowledge, but also wisdom. And if you act without wisdom, ignorant, perhaps even purposefully so, this is not something to favor. Of course nobody is expected to know everything, but you are supposed to remember, to know, that you can always ask others for help.

There is no passion, there is serenity. - Im tumi tamah bexlyth, ji xai enoah maijah

bexlyth is the nominalization of the verb bexl, which refers to covet/attached love and as the noun leans more into the concept of “passion” and “obsession”. maijah, on the other hand, translates as “serenity, calm, tranquillity”.

Our intention here was to elaborate on the huge dimension behind passion. Passion in and of itself is nothing bad, but it can be if it is done out of obsession. When considering that this mantra is used to interact with the Force, it might also demand that you leave every other thought behind and focus only on the Force.

There is no chaos, there is harmony. - Im tumi tamah chiiuth, ji xai enoah aimato

chiiuth means “chaos, destruction, unrest” where aimato is “harmony” and “cosmic balance”. Cosmic balance is here the state which we assume the Jedi want to achieve in the entire galaxy. When canon speaks of “there needs to be balance”, this is it.

Here we have chaos as everything that disrupts the harmony. Of course there is something such as good chaos, it would be quite boring if every day were the same, stagnant, but in this case we decide that chaos and destruction does not exist negatively in the Force. There are plants that require forest fires before they can sprout - the natural circle of life includes chaos and destruction, but only ever in a way that plays in harmony with its other parts, rebirth and healing.

There is no death, there is the Force - Im tumi tamah kerai’yth, ji xai enoah Dai

kerai’yth is the nominalization of the verb kerai, which means “to die”. This line is pretty much the same as the original version.

Now that we’ve got all the vocabulary done, let’s talk a bit about grammar. We’ll start with the first part of each sentence Im tumi tamah.

tamah is the present tense form of the temporary form of “to be”. We chose to use this instead of “enoah” to show that these states of being are temporary and not, like the Force and its attributes, eternal.

A little opposed to this is our choice of the consequential marker tumi. tumi marks a state of somethat that is currently happening and will continue to happen in the future. This is used mostly for statements of being. As you can see, this is in contrast to our choice of tamah, but the reason for that is hidden in our negation particle im.

Im, in this case, negates the whole expression. tumi tamah gives the speaker the understanding that something temporary is the current state of being, when negating this entire sentence, we get the translation that this temporary experience is not your new and eternal state of being.

Which brings us to the differences in syntax and overall translation. In the structure of the original Basic sentence, the negation only has scope over the noun. In There is no chaos, the “no” negates only “chaos”. The literal translation of the Dai Bendu version would be more along the lines of “Not is there any state of chaos”, which, of course, is a lot more wordy.

Now, on the flip side, we have there is. In Dai Bendu, we have ji xai enoah. ji means “but”. We inserted this preposition here to highlight the contrast and negation. The first half of each statement says what there is not, but that doesn’t mean you are lost because in the Force, you will find the other.

enoah is our eternal/permanent form of “to be”. The Force is eternal, it will forever be all these attributes the Jedi give to it. xai is our Force-influenced marker. It represents that an action took place because the Force destined it to be, it is “Force-willed” if you want. This makes the entire sentence a bit self-referential and implies that this state is eternal because the Force is and because the Force wants it to be. The Jedi believe singularly in the Light side of the Force and see the Dark as a corruption and poisoning of it. Therefore, the Force strives for peace, knowledge, serenity, harmony as much as it embodies it.

Now that we have discussed both statements, we can put together a full literal translation:

There is no emotion, there is peace turns into Not is there a state of emotion, but the Force wills there to be peace within itself. 

And that is, all in all, a pretty sweet mantra to hold onto.

Now! For some explanation on the shortened version. We know that both versions existed during the prequels at the same time, which suggests two things: either they were both passed on independently/complementary, or they are identical in meaning.

Emotion, yet peace - Soo’yth, kyii kai’an

The word “yet” is very interesting because its meaning is inherently “despite that/but/even though”, which means that this shortened form of the mantra can actually be read identically to the long one. By striking the negation out of the sentence, you need a preposition with that inherent negative meaning, which is something “yet” is capable of!

So in our reading of this shortened mantra, it’s identical to the long one, but given how many syllables the long one has, it’s no wonder they have the Initiates recite the short one. So there is no secret “oh no, the Jedi don’t acknowledge emotions so we need this updated better version of the code!” hidden away here.

[chilly-me-softly]

Every Little Thing’s Gonna Be Alright • Chapter 18

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17

"Wow girls you are... wow" Ben is pleasantly surprised as soon as he sees the two girls leave the room. Deb immediately approaches him and the two share a tender kiss while Evelyn looks down embarrassed at the compliment, suddenly feeling in their way.

Eventually the three of them make their way to the lift and Evelyn's heart misses a beat every time the lift stops at other floors, opening those doors so slowly it tortures her again and again by showing people she doesn't know, before finally arriving at the right one. And so she suddenly decides to get herself together. She went through a birth weeks before and nearly feels sick about a guy. Absolutely not.

The room is bright and warm, not making her regret wearing a strapless dress at all. There are already plenty of people around, small groups chatting and laughing. Ben at her side places a hand at the base of her back leading them forward to find Gareth Southgate, Harry Kane and his wife a few steps later.

"Ben, good to see you. And with two lovely ladies I can see"

"My girlfriend Deb and my sister Evelyn" he makes the introductions after shaking his manager's hand.

"Oh Evelyn, nice to finally meet you in person. Congratulations on your baby girl" the girl smiles trying to keep from glaring at the guy next to her as she shakes hands with everyone there.

"I'm sorry if he bothered you. My brother doesn't know where to draw the line"

"Nah next training session he'll get what he deserves" Kane teases him making everyone laugh under his brother's mock indignant look.

The round of introductions continues as Ben leads both of them around the room. She doesn't feel as nervous as she had imagined, everyone is so nice and friendly and the fact that she sees almost everyone at least once a week via a screen has helped to make the environment even more familiar despite not really knowing them. But it's only fair because she finds herself on the other side for a few minutes too, experiencing what it feels like to be known by everyone but not be known at the same time. It turns out that everyone seems to know her thanks to Ben's big mouth but if nothing else that had taken the pressure off of finding conversation topics.

"You know who just walked in, get ready" Deb whispers to her while Ben is busy having a conversation with James a few steps away from them. And Evelyn does everything in her power not to turn around, clutching her glass of water wishing it was something more at that moment.

"Oh finally! You're always late mat," Ben comments as soon as he sees Jack, the two of them exchanging the usual handshake as the boy laughs. And her gaze inevitably ends on him.  

The suit wraps his body properly, the tie is perfectly done and for a moment she wonders if someone has helped him. But there is no one at his side and she feels stupidly relieved. Their eyes meet for a brief moment and that is enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"Jack, do you remember my sister Evelyn?"

"How could I not. I mean we spent a whole day putting that cot together, did we?!" he steps forward leaning over slightly to leave a kiss on her cheek. And as he does the same greeting Deb, a trail of his scent reaches her nostrils. He looks so calm, as if nothing has happened, while she is in complete shambles. Again.  

"How's the baby? I hope the cot held up. I wasn't so convinced we'd be able to make it" Evelyn laughs partly and mostly at the absurdity of the situation.

"She's fine. And the cradle too, it's very comfortable. Not that I've... tried it out or anything" she replies, stumbling on a few words, wanting to facepalm herself, miming a gritted 'help me' to Deb when she's sure no one's looking.

"I need a refill. Eve are you coming with me?" Deb points to her glass before taking the girl under her arm and heading for the small bar area.

Evelyn sighs relieved once she walks away as Deb laughs, "Girl you are so hopeless"

"God why do I have to be so stupid?"

"Did I ever tell you about how I met your brother?" Evelyn shakes her head, interested in the story. Her brother had never been a fan of gossip, it was bad enough that he had let them know he was seeing someone let alone the whole story of how it happened.

"I was out with my friends and I was trying to impress this guy"

"You hooked up with my brother when you were interested in someone else?!" she asked amused as Deb shushed her with a hand gesture, taking the full glass and moving a little further aside.

"Let me finish. Anyway what I was saying, oh yeah I was trying to impress this guy. Nice looking bloke... but apparently he didn't see me. I reckon I spent hours dancing, fooling around with my friends trying to get his attention. But nothing"

"Until I practically ran into this guy who smiles at me and says you know it's not worth wasting time on someone who doesn't want you the way you want him"

"Ben" she states almost unnecessarily but Deb nods anyway smiling.

"Turns out he'd been watching me all night instead, only I was too busy being a fool to notice"

"So you're saying I need to look over?" Deb almost rolls her eyes in exasperation.  

"No. I'm telling you to open your eyes and look around. You feel stupid because you're trying so hard to hide your feelings. Let yourself go. If it goes well you'll have a decent person by your side, if it goes wrong... you'll get back up as usual"

"And if you're going to say you have a baby girl, I'm going to slap you. Right here in front of everyone" Evelyn immediately shuts her mouth, not wanting to challenge the girl who is more than capable of doing such a thing.

"You really know how to comfort people" she comments instead sarcastically glaring at her, trying to make her feel guilty at least a little.

"You don't need comfort, just a little push" she winks at her before they are interrupted by Ben dragging his girlfriend away to dance after making sure once again that everything is fine.

Evelyn stands there watching the two of them sway mindlessly in the middle of the dance floor and smiles. She remembers the first wedding their parents decided they were old enough to attend, how they hid under a table for almost half the reception to escape the entertainer and how Ben swore he would never dance like the groom and bride that day because 'too close, too much contact yuck'.

"What are you drinking?" a voice brings her back down to earth and when she turns her head she finds Jack at her side leaning against that counter with absolute nonchalance.

"Water"

"Oh. It definitely takes a bit of alcohol to get through these nights" he says with a hint of hilarity ordering a beer from the person behind the bar.

"I can't. I haven't touched a drop in ages now and I don't fancy making a fool of myself in front of everyone thanks"

"Something interesting. Sure you don't want some?"

"I'm glad my public humiliation excites you so much" Jack laughs before bringing the freshly served bottle closer to his lips.

"Besides, it doesn't seem to me they're forcing you to attend"

"I was so close to not coming in fact. Then I heard you were going to be there" their gazes intertwine as she tries to figure out if he's messing with her or if by some strange twist of fate she's misunderstood. But it's all there, in his ever so penetrating eyes. If she chooses not to see it, it's up to her.

"Are you two getting friendly?" she almost jumps on the spot not having heard him coming as Jack imperceptibly straightens his back.

"Something like that" Jack takes a long swig from his bottle, "I was just telling your sister that without alcohol these evenings are pretty boring"

"You're going to have to start looking for someone or we're going to start calling you Jack the boozer" Ben jokes as Deb scolds him for being rude and Jack shoots Evelyn a look before scoffing at him and taking another sip of that beer.

-

The first thing she thinks of as soon as the signal comes that they can leave is to run to her room as fast as she can to get rid of those heels. She had forgotten how confident they made her feel but also how uncomfortable they were after a while. That's why when Ben and Deb suggest her to go get something to eat with them, she flatly refuses. It's okay, she had a good night at the end and they deserve some time alone too without having to babysit her.

She heads for the lift as the two then head for the hotel exit, not taking long to get into the cubicle. Almost as the doors are about to close a hand blocks them and two people enter the lift. The door is about to close again but it's blocked again and she's about to huff loudly, dreading her plan, when her gaze meets Jack's. He approaches her as the doors finally close and the lift begins its ascent.

There is silence in the cubicle, Evelyn keeps her eyes on the display showing the current floor number, swaying slightly on her knees. When she feels something brush her hand along her side, first imperceptibly, so much so that she thinks she imagined it, then more firmly. The pinkie of Jack's hand searches for hers before intertwining and stupidly something inside her bursts, radiating a sudden warmth.

She doesn't look at him, instead keeping her gaze fixed on that number that keeps going up slowly. But she doesn't even do anything to interrupt that moment, enjoying the warmth released by that contact no matter how small and everything else.

The lift doors suddenly open and before she can realize it, the grip on her hand tightens and she finds herself in a hallway being led by Jack.

"What are you doing that's not my plan" she states confused but offering no resistance, curious as to what he might be up to.

"It's mine" he just says turning his head towards her for a second before taking the key card with his free hand and stopping in front of a door.

"I just want to spend some time with you. I can't waste this opportunity" he admits sincerely and she simply smiles at him waiting for him to open that door.

When she walks inside the first thing she does is let herself fall on the bed kicking off her heels, moaning at the feeling of freedom as Jack smiles closing the door behind him.

"Don't you dare use that against me. They were killing me"

"I didn't say anything" Jack raises his hands holding back a giggle and she tries to glare at him as he places his jacket on the chair nearby loosening his tie before sitting down on the bed next to her.

"Just know that you just ruined all my plans"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I could already see myself in my room getting rid of these heels and this dress, maybe a nice warm bath and a good refreshing sleep"

"Oh you can go if you want"

"Nah I'm here now" she says shrugging and he smiles before laying down next to her. They look into each other's eyes, both studying the other's face as if for the first time, until Evelyn sighs.

"I practically asked Deb never to leave me alone tonight and yet here I am" if she thinks about it it only makes her laugh.

"Were you afraid I might kidnap you?"

"That I might do something stupid actually"

"Like what?"

"Like be alone with you somewhere and-"

"And kiss me again. Is that what you're worried about?" Evelyn sighs closing her eyes but she can still feel his gaze on her, so persistent.

"Do you want to kiss me? Because I want to, so bad" she can hear his desire in his voice and she's thankful her eyes are closed and she can't see his expression too because that's the only reason she hasn't thrown herself at him frankly. She's struggling so much in that moment with her brain, and then here he comes.

"Can you open your eyes please?" he asks softly as she shakes her head, holding her breath when she hears him move.

"You know I stood outside your house I think for at least an hour that day. Hoping maybe you'd change your mind" he whispers catching her off guard, his voice closer now. And finally she gives in opening her eyes looking at him intently.

"Why?"

"Because whatever this is between us it's clear we both feel it Eve. I don't want to dance around it anymore"

"Jack I-"

"And I gave you your space because I knew you would need it. But all I've been doing is thinking about you, thinking about that kiss"

Evelyn sits on the edge of the bed at that point, leaning forward resting her elbows on her thighs and closing her fists in her hair. She feels him do the same as the bed moulds under their weight.

"You scare me. Because you make me feel things I thought I'd never feel again. Not as strong" a few seconds pass in which silence is the main protagonist, before he changes position kneeling in front of her. His hands go to release her hair from that hold, fingers to intertwine with each other.

"I know it's hard to trust and letting you go again after a breakup"

"That's the problem. I feel like I can trust you and that scares me because with Lucas I... we shared so much in such a short time and I even thought I loved him, and with you... I don't want that to happen again, I couldn't bear it"

"Little by little, allow yourself to be happy again. Let me in Eve" Evelyn's body comes forward imperceptibly as she pulls her hands from Jack's grasp, laying them immediately afterwards on his cheeks to pull him to her and make their lips meet. She stops thinking for once, following her feelings. And if she doesn't feel on the clouds, she doesn't know what describes that moment frankly.

"You don't know the confusion in my head right now" she giggles, resting her forehead against his. "I really want to turn my brain off sometimes"

"Oh I'm here for that" Jack grins mischievously pushing Evelyn backwards suddenly, causing her to lose her balance, and lie down next to her as she lets out a choked squeal in surprise before laughing. He moves closer to her again connecting their lips together smiling, he can't help but want more and more.

They can't break away but at the same time Evelyn doesn't want to rush things so she puts some space between them, deciding to take off that dress to get more comfortable and borrowing something from Jack's suitcase. She takes her time in the en-suite bathroom, sorting herself out and admiring in the mirror how those clothes are soaked in the boy's scent and she brings them to her nose stupidly before shaking her head and getting out of there.

Jack has changed too in the meantime, ditching his fancy shirt and trousers for something more comfortable, getting into bed and fiddling with his phone while waiting for her. It's a bit late but neither of them wants to close their eyes because it would mean ending the day and leaving, parting ways again.

"What will happen once we leave this room?" Evelyn voices her thoughts with a sigh causing him to look up from his phone which is immediately pushed aside.

"Come here" Jack holds out his hand to her and she walks over to him settling on his lap and letting his arms wrap around her.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen. You're gonna go back to your beautiful little girl and cuddle her because you've missed her so much and I'm gonna go back to my house and let my dog do that" the girl laughs as he leaves a kiss on her temple, "But we're gonna do everything we can to keep in touch like before or even more because I'm not leaving you now, that's for sure"

"Sorry, I just seem to need some comfort all the time"

"I'm here to give it to you. Whenever you need it. We said little by little right?" she kisses him again and each time a smile arises spontaneously on her lips. It's absurd, at the beginning of the day she had wished for it to pass as quickly as possible so she could go home to her little girl, but now she wishes it would last a little longer so she wouldn't have to be separated from Jack. To stay in that bubble they have created for themselves in those hours and in which they are so comfortable.

They talk and talk over and over until the yawns outweigh the words and then they give up, holding each other for what's left of the night taking all they can before they inevitably burst that bubble and test themselves in the tangled world they live in.

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Tag: @alexajanecollins @emwritesfootball @rosie7703

Chapter 19