#or my brothers explaining modern slang to me

[kanerallels]

Me translating Star Wars slang to my mom when we watch The Mandalorian

[fabuloustrash05]

My Review of Mutant Mayhem

Warning: SPOILERS

The animation was AMAZING!! From the colors to the facial expressions to the fight choreography, it all looks so good!

It took me a while for me to get used to the Turtles designs and voices but after finally seeing the movie and watching them talk and move, I can say now that I do love them, though I'm still not crazy about Raph's design…

If you know me then you know I'm not too big of a fan of the idea of Splinter not being a human at all, but for this movie it makes sense as to why he was always a rat and never human. Him being a rat from the start and hating humans ties in with the movies message about being accepted and even has a little connection/parallel with the main villain Superfly. I am still kind of upset that Splinter has no connection to Hamato Yoshi (that we know of rn).

Another reason why I don’t like the idea of Splinter never being a human or Hamato Yoshi is because I feel like it takes away the ninja aspect of their story, but the way they explain why they’ve ninjas was actually hilarious. Splinter and the boys learned how to be ninjas through YouTube tutorials, which makes so much sense for this day and age with how many people claim they are experts at something simply because they read or watch something online. 

Leo was my favorite turtle in this movie, I loved his personality/character and how serious but dorky he was. He’s trying so hard, I love his hopeless romantic side, and how he wants to listen to his dad but also have fun with his brothers, so he’s stuck in a tug or war with himself. He was precious and I love him.

Leo having a crush on April actually wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. His crush on her was genuinely sweet and it wasn't shoved down our throats like in other versions *cough* 2012 & Bayverse *cough* I like that he asks her to prom, which I thought was very cute and a nice ending for Leo.

I'm surprised how quickly they killed off Baxter Stockman, but his "son" Superfly was a really cool villain to take his place. Ice Cube did an amazing job! But I’m not full convinced Stockman is dead. There’s no evidence that he’s still alive but knows. Maybe they’ll pull an 03 Stockman and make come back as a robot in the sequel.

The other mutants were also really fun, but I wish they had more screen time. And truth I felt like they added too many Mutants and I felt like a few of them could've been removed from the film but overall they were a fun cast!

Mondo Gecko and Mikey instantly becoming besties was nice. And I loved Bebop and Rocksteady's Bromance.

Mikey twerking was NOT needed in this film.

I like how the "milking" joke actually came full circle when the turtles were kidnapped by Cynthia.

Splinter vs the TCRI soldiers was my second favorite part of the movie, The animation was so well done in the choreography of the fight was amazing and had great detail.

My overall favorite part was the sequence of the Turtles confronting each one of Superfly’s leads. How the scene would sync up and cut back-and-forth to each brother fighting different gang members. The music during the scene was so well done and the animation with how it tied in with each brother was peak cinema. 

April’s little arc of getting over being camera shy was cool and actually helped save the Turtles and NYC. But the April puking joke went on for too long. The fact they showed it longer than I excepted felt wrong.

I’m happy that Splinter got a girlfriend by the end but please don’t ever show us him making out with Scumbug ever again. *flashbacks to 2012 Raph making out with an ant*

My favorite joke was when the Turtles were like “Eventually Superfly will run out of cars to throw at us, right??” *Superfly turns to see he’s right new to a parking garage* LMFAO XD

There was a lot of modern day references and slang in this movie and a lot of people say this movie is gonna be outdated in 5-10 years but I feel that’s gonna be part of the movies charm. We’ll have to see in 5-10 years…

Superfly’s mutant army (Mondo Gecko, Bebop, Rocksteady, Leatherhead etc) got redeemed way too quick. All it took was one heartfelt speech and suddenly they weren’t down to kill all humans. Like they seemed really excited about it during the bowling scene?? Gave me Shrek 3 vibes. I was confident that Mondo Gecko was gonna change but all of them was unexpected but I’m happy regardless by the end that the Turtles have a bigger family.

I loved the sequence of the people of New York helping the Turtles and their mutant friends stop Superfly. I feel we’ve never seen that done before and in truth, New Yorkers ramming their cars into a giant kaiju Superfly IS something New Yorkers would do! XD

The ending I did not expect, the Turtles actually being excepted by all of New York, and actually getting to go to high school. This was so new and fresh, and I absolutely loved it and I can't wait to see more of it in the TV show and the sequel.

Also there’s a mid credit scene.

It starts off very cute with the Turtles doing high school shenanigans: Mikey in joining improv, Donnie with his “people” (lol), Raph joining the wrestling team, Leo and April starting a conspiracy vlog, and finally them at prom, but then it cuts to Cynthia, who it’s revealed she is secretly watching them. She talks to her second in command about wanting to catch the Turtles and get revenge. She then basically says that she “knows a guy” that can help and it cuts to a shot of someone outside the city….

SHREDDER IS COMING

But sadly no Casey…

[theweirdestroller]

Headcanons Pt 2 - Star Sanses

Part two of this headcanon saga! If anyone here knows me from my time on Wattpad, a lot of this may be new to you. I actually used to favor this trio before I looked deeper into Ink and Dream. I would like to say my opinions on the Apple Incident now look less like "wtf Dream, why weren't you a better brother???" and more like "wtf village, those are six-year-olds. Leave them alone." To be fair, I typically write the incident with the twins nearing their teens. So, y'know. But canonically, they're both like, six. Anyway! Stars, you're up! It's your turn on the headcanon chopping block! (they're all sympathetic btw)

Ink:

Really good at drawing but can't write a simple story to save his life

Actually pretty good at sewing. He can not only repair clothing, but make his own

Uses he/they pronouns but doesn't really understand gender. Blue has tried to explain it, but Ink just can't grasp the concept. Or forgets. It might actually be that he keeps forgetting

Despite being horrible at reading others' emotions, he's very good at making and keeping friends. It could be the general joy and carefree attitude he has, but people just really like him

So, with the paints, Ink is supposed to have a bit of each. And most of the time he does. But much like some people ignore certain feelings to cope, Ink will refuse to drink blue or red on certain days because he doesn't want to put up with those feelings if something happens to make them flare up

Has a severe case of leukophobia. He likes painting on his and his friends' bones because of this, but does not explain why

As much as he loves animals, he's scared to have a pet because he thinks he'll forget to take care of it

Despite all his fear of having a pet, he has raised multiple generations of butterflies! And has a pollinator garden

Dream:

Much like Nightmare, Dream forgave Nim for everything. Much like the Gang, Ink and Blue don't agree

Doesn't know how the modern world works. Nightmare remained awake for the 500 years Dream was in stone and it shows. Dream doesn't understand modern tech, modern clothes, or modern slang. Barely understands what a laptop is much less how it works. Never seen a hoodie before, but now he must have ten. "And what, Ink, in the multiverse is a yeet?!" Nightmare likes teasing him for it. Nightmare watched technology and style and weird slang grow. He has a smartphone and regularly shows other people all the pictures of stupid things the Gang did

Can't stand the taste or smell of apples. Which is weird, because Nightmare can, but the Gang thinks he can't

Can't talk to people. If he gets past his nerves, he's really charismatic, but he'd rather die than approach someone first. This was not an issue when he was little, or even newly freed

Likes climbing things, mainly mountains and other tall landforms, but he'll join Cross in scaling random buildings or people sometimes

His magic feels like someone injected cotton candy into your soul. It's sweet and fluffy, sugary, but you know too much is bad for you

Blue:

Okie dokie! The one normal one. He is the best cook out of the Stars. Just really good at following recipes

Has a pet, it's just Toby. Toby likes stealing Blue's attacks.

He has 20 HP, and it took so much training just to get there. He's also pretty good at dodging, but compared to other Sanses, he's not particularly skilled

Feels like he doesn't belong in the Stars. He'll walk into an AU next to literal gods and everyone's cheering. For all three of them. Doesn't really know what to do about these feelings

So, Blue's best friends are some of the strongest Sanses alive. And he regularly has to battle with their stupidity. This makes him incredibly intolerant to stupid/arrogant/idiotic people. He will call people out on rude behavior, bullying, or other such things. A lot of people love him for this. A lot of people, who I shall refer to as Karens, hate him for this.

I need to stress, Blue isn't mean to people, but you can't be a prick around him. He just won't put up with it, whether it affected him directly, or it just occurred near him

Despite being the only Sans out of the Gang and Stars that was younger than his Papyrus, he probably acts more like a fun yet responsible big brother than anyone else

And there are the Stars! I realized I never spat my stupid Hogwarts Sorting list and reasonings behind it, and I must do that next. Because Blue is a Gryffindor. And he's the only one of these three. So I'll do my sorting next, before moving on to other Sanses.

[the-technicolor-whiscash]

The generation gap between me and my brother who has to explain modern slang to me

[nullusnobody]

my brother asked me what "TLDR" meant and so i explained, but then my mom of course had to butt in with a snide comment about "short attention spans" and "too long didn't write" and just generally making fun of abbreviations and internet slang.

i always try and explain to her that internet talk is it's own language with it's own rules and how in this modern internet society different values are placed on different ways of speech, similar to actual handwriting.

and what annoys me so much is that she just ignores everything i say and continues believing that internet talk is stupid and a product of a lazy generation.

and i just hate people who think That Way. people who think so shallowly and can't see the bigger picture.

language itself is subject to change and experimentation. over the years, people on the internet have experimented and found ways of communicating their ideas through a medium that is so hostile to communication.

when i say "hostile to communication," i mean the fact that humans are social animals that mainly rely on voice inflections, rises in volume, and facial expressions to properly and effectively communicate. the internet offers none of that.

so it's amazing that we can even communicate effectively on the internet at all.

we use abbreviations like "brb" "ttyl" "ily" "tldr" etc. etc. to quickly and effectively get across a larger concept

there's Capitalization to show that a word is Special

we somehow even have question phrases that sound deadpan

and statements that sound unsure?

we have BIG WORDS to show excitement!

and those are just a few examples! there are probably plenty more that i can't think of right now!

my point is: internet communication is a language of it's own and it's disrespectful to treat it as some byproduct of "laziness"

[halloweenbitch2764]

Sinclairs, Thomas, Michael, Billy Loomis, Brahms, Jason and whoever tf u want reacting 2 their fem s/o begging them 2 step on her and 2 str8 up fuking beat her and then says sum shit like “Plz step on me, beat me, kick me, punch me, use me” ty my bro hav gud day hope I’m not a bother

TW: NSFW Content

This request made me laugh. I love it. Thanks for the request!

Bo Sinclair

His head will snap to you when you ask him to step on you

Will be caught off guard but quickly regain his composure

You won't notice you even caught him off guard

He'll give a cocky smirk and lick his lips

"Yeah? And why do you want me to do that darlin'?"

He nearly loses his mind when you tell him to use you

You certainly don't have to ask him twice

If he's horny enough he won't even wait to take you to the bedroom

He'll simply fuck you wherever you are

So be wise when you say it to him otherwise you may end up getting fucked in the grass/dirt/etc.

Vincent Sinclair

Unlike his twin, he doesn't quite understand what that means

He thinks you mean literally

And he's quite worried

Once you explain what it means he'll get flustered

He may have his moment of being a perv but that's on his terms, not you catching him off guard

He's flattered though

He's happy he's wearing a mask to hide the blush that bloomed over his face

He doesn't quite know how to respond to it but wants you to know he's appreciative of such a compliment

So he signs "thank you" and the next time you fuck you're in for a treat

Lester Sinclair

Like Bo, Lester knows what that means from his exposure to the "normal" world

The world outside of Ambrose

He hasn't heard that saying (step on me) in so long that it caught him off guard

And then he busted out laughing

But then the "use me" part registers and he gets flustered

He gets flustered easily by sexual stuff

At least for now

When he gets more comfortable then it's game on

As long as he doesn't have any chores to do and nobody's around he'll start getting frisky

He can and will fuck you outside of the privacy of his house

Just hope neither of his brothers pops in for a surprise visit

Thomas Hewitt

Confused as fuck

Why would you ask me to hurt you like that?

He knows you like a little pain but nothing like what you were saying

He took it literally

The "use me" part soared over his head since your requests before had caught him so off guard and so quickly confused him

He wouldn't ever do anything like that to you!

He's so much bigger he knows he could really hurt you

Once you explain what it means he's completely flustered

He thanks his lucky stars that his mask hides the blush on his face

Though his eyes show enough emotion for you to know exactly what he's thinking and feeling

Once you two get some alone time he's more than happy to fulfill your wishes

Michael Myers

Takes it literal

Because of course he does

He's confused though

But I mean, if you really wanted him to he would

He is a massive sadist after all

Once you notice he seems a bit confused by his body language, you explain

And really that's all it takes

Hope you don't have anywhere to be the rest of the day

And hope your legs don't give out the next day

Billy Loomis

Fuckboy in his element

Immediately horni

The horniest motherfucker

He knows exactly what you mean and the "use me" part is just an added bonus

He was going to do that anyways

He'll tease you before he actually does anything

"Is that right cutie? Want me to wreck that hot body of yours?"

Prepare for a long night

And not being able to walk straight the next day

Or two

Brahms Heelshire

Finds the saying amusing

He doesn't understand what it means but it's quite funny

Though the "use me" part automatically stands out

Because he has "selective hearing"

As in he's always looking for a reason to fuck

When you figure out he probably doesn't understand your modern slang you explain it to him

He's ready to go

Hope you're in the mood

Jason Voorhees

Alarmed at first

Why would you ask him to do such a thing??

He would never ever ever purposefully hurt you

Why would you want him to start now?

The "use me" part isn't heard as he's confused and alarmed about the rest of the abuse listed

Once you explain to him what it all means, he's completely flustered

Anything sexual flusters him to be fair

He loves you but it would be a while before he'd be comfortable with hurting you in the bedroom

So softer, gentler sex will have to suffice

[interact-if]

Day 5 of the interviews! let’s give it up for Ligia! :chinhands:

Ligia, author of Love the Guard, Be the King

Latino Heritage Month Featured Author

Mathias' heart has been bleeding since his father, the former King, decided to punish you for his mistakes. As the youngest child of a lesser bourgeois, you were raised in the castle, between the King’s cruelty, the Queen’s friendship, and  Mathias’s kindness (or supposed kindness?).

Now, more than twenty Carnivals since your arrival, the King is dead and the Queen’s sickness  worsens each day. As the azure taint spreads in the kingdom and the Opalean Wars come to an end, it’s Mathias’s time to sit on the throne.

Will the docile Prince become a kind King, a violent Monarch, or a ruthless Tyrant? Will you have any say in it? And how much will your relationship change?

Love the Guard, Be the King Demo | Author’s Kofi | Read more [here]

Tags: historical, romance

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT)

Q1: So, tell us a little bit about the projects you’re working on!

With pleasure! Right now, I’m working on three main projects. My personal Visual Novel project, “Love the Guard, Be the King,” a second Visual Novel I’ve been secretly working on with a good friend for the past 10 months or so, and I also have an ongoing book series about hot, quirky supervillains—but I’ll focus only on the first two cause that’s what we’re here for, right? Hahaha.

LtGBtK is a really intimist experience, focused more on the MC’s and RO’s character arcs and how we can change depending on our experiences and how we feel about them. The entire plot happens in only four days, but it takes into account almost 30 years of history—basically Mathias’s (the only RO) entire life!

“Crystal Library” has mystery, romance, magic, 6 ROs, and a ton of memorable scenes already. I’m working on the graphics and the programming for this one, while Coco Nichole (@dreamybard), one of my favorite writers ever, is the brilliant mind behind the plot and all of CL’s characters! I can’t wait to share this one with you all. Romance is optional in both. :)

Q2: What excites you most about using interactive fiction? What are some of the biggest challenges?

What I LOVE and FEAR about all types of interactive fiction is how it invites players to, on a much deeper level, be part of the narrative. When reading books, we all work hard to translate beautiful sentences and scenes into images in your head. We interact with it, yes, but when playing IFs, we also explore the narrative in a different way; we have so much more agency over what happens! We sometimes have different paths to choose from, beautiful illustrations to unlock, or character traits that change depending on our choices… it’s amazing, and, IMO, it’s a very unique way to experience narratives.

But it’s also very complex, very demanding, and it can easily get out of hand if you give the players too many options/branches to follow, mainly when working with small teams or, in my case for LtGBtK, alone. *takes a deep breath* I just hope I’m doing a good job. .-.

Q3: What has been something in your project you’ve had to do a weird amount of research for?

Besides programming lol basically everything. For LtGBtK, I’m trying to create this weird fantasy with a modern-medieval society (?), so I’m constantly researching medieval customs, traditions, tools, and weirdly specific stuff like socks. Did people wear socks in the medieval era? What were their playing cards made of? When was ice cream invented? How did they shave? How did kids become knights? What were their perfumes made of? And soaps? What did they eat? How different was their wine? And what kind of materials or slang or fabrics can I use, and what can I change without completely breaking immersion?

 And then I shove all that into a pot and adapt it to a world where Mathias can literally put the world on fire with a wave of his hands. ♥

Q4: Which of your characters is most like you? How?

I think I’m a mix of them all, but mainly Mandra and Rafa (one of my main characters in my supervillain books). They have wildly different personalities and stories, but those two have clear views of the kind of person they want to be, they’re not afraid of their soft sides, and they are ready to work hard to become good at what they love. Rafa has a specially strong connection to her brother, like my siblings and I, and Mand is often locked in an eternal state of wanting to be alone and wanting to be surrounded by family/loved ones, so I guess we meet there too!

Q5: Does your heritage influence your characters as you create them? (How? Why or why not?)

Yes! There are the very basic ways, like habits, names, food, family dynamics, settings (mainly in my books, which are all very Brazilian), and Holidays. And then there’s a more personal way that I’m not entirely sure I can explain because I lived in Brazil for 28 years, and I’m not sure I can put that into words. The classics of our literature are different, Art, architecture, and music developed differently, my country was violently colonized and still faces the results of that violence (including but not limited to structural racism, classism, misogyny etc), I learned some Capoeira in my physical education class at school, we call non-Brazilians “gringos,” and so on. This is my normal, and this is what my characters would see as normal too, because I don’t know any different.

At the very core, all my characters are influenced by my country’s history, by our relationship with other countries, and by the values my parents taught me, passed down to them by my Indigeous-Spanish-Portuguese-German foremothers/fathers. :P

The main, more palpable way my heritage influences my characters, though, is through humor and theme. I think Brazilians have a very specific, sharp, and often very smart kind of humor that, IMO, stems from the type of history our country has, and the way we look at life, sometimes translating pain into humor. As for themes, I usually write about what makes me angry... and there’s a lot in Brazil’s history and modern society that causes me that. :)

But all I know for sure is that I want to show the world Brazilians are much more than samba and soccer.

 Q6: What is something you love to see in interactive fiction?

Other people! In the same way I add my history and worldview to my creations, I always approach stories thinking that there’s a whole, well, history behind them. And I love that! Also, I adore choices that feel impactful + good friendships and family relationships + soft romances with mutual respect. ♥

Q7: Any advice to give?

Hmm. Be proud and celebrate who you are and where you’re from. Learning and understanding the world inside us is a life-long process, so it’s always a victory to discover new pieces of ourselves. :) Also, if you can, talk to people that come from different cultures than yours to expand your worldview, don’t be afraid to be soft (the world needs more kindness), and please study personal finance. Seriously. XD

[thefallenbibliophilequote]

Bucky Barnes having a girl headcanon

A/N: this all started from an ask that Kas got but then I started commenting on it and well it turned long so I decided to make it an official headcanon.

Okay so, if Bucky had a child it would be a girl. That is how my mind sees it.

She will be called Becca after Bucky's sister.

She would love to braid his hair and play with it and he just can't say no to her. So he braids her hair and she does his.

She would def put stickers on his metal arm, or even draw on it when he sleeps.

Alpine would be so protective of her, like a mom bc pets are very connected and protective over babies that grew up with them.

And she would love her uncle (godfather) Steve so so much!

Don't even get me started about how she will never be afraid of his metal arm but she would rather admire it, she would clutch it while they are walking and she will wrap it around her when she had a nightmare and she sneaked into her daddy's bed- she will insist on having his left arm around her keeping her safe.

The kids at her kindergarten? They are afraid of her but not because her father is Bucky, no they are scared of Her. Because she is very protective of her dad.

Am I going to start talking about her found family with the avengers? Abso-fucking-lutely

Natasha and her knives. Bucky wanted to be the first one to teach his girl self defense but Natasha beat him to it. He was not happy when he entered the house and saw daggers in the vaults with little Becca excitedly smiles at her aunt when she hit the target painted on the wall. He didn't let Natasha babysit for a month after that.

Clint would teach her ASL so she could talk to him.

Which reminds me

Bucky would teach her Romanian, and will call her by Romanian nicknames 😊

Tony and Bruce would help her with homework or show and tell! She loves just sitting in the lab when she is bored, colouring and asking the scientists about what they are doing. She started to use very advanced scientific terms casually (she used them wrongly but it is still cute)

Obviously she would love to play with Morgan and Cassie

Although one time Scott invited her over for a play date with Cassie and he shrinked with them into a princess castle

Bucky went crazy when he couldn't find her and Scott almost died when Bucky found out.

The hulk? He would be like Alpine. SMALL CHILD IS TINY. LITTLE CHILD NEEDS PROTECTION. HULK PROTECT BECCA.

Steve would be protective as hell. I mean, she would come to him with problems and he would help her with advice that does not include threats and daggers.

But on the other hand...

Steve is a little punk and Bucky used to take care of him back in the 40s (he still does now ofc)

So he will sneak out candies and such when Bucky would tell Becca no more. Bucky will then find Becca eating happily candies with Steve on the couch.

Thor would tell her all about the realms and she in turn would explain to him human terms and slang. He likes having tea parties with her. Lady Becca is a fine ruler of the Tower.

Now because I am me I have to include Loki... The thing about Loki is that I think kids would be attracted to him. He is the kind that would say kids are annoying but eventually will kind of like it. She is just so precious and so he gave in and now he is showing her magic and reads to her.

Okay I'm done with the found family (ha! Yeah right)

Bucky would constantly pick her up and just carry her around because she has him all wrapped around her little finger and he wants to hold her close.

He goes on missions less now after he had her (I guess this is technically a Bucky x reader but I want to focus on Bucky being a dad rn) and he is now mainly training other new agents.

So after Becca was born with those gorgeous blue eyes and brunette hair, Bucky would take endless pictures of her. Modern technology has never been more useful to him.

If Becca starts to cough? Over protective dad mode engaged! He would panic and contact doctors and see Cho or Bruce over every small thing😂 bc he is precious.

I said it before but pre-serum!Steve was sick a lot and Bucky was the one to take care of him... So he was always worried when Becca got sick

But she would be the one to reassure him

Because she is a tough one, just like her dad.

Oh and I almost forgot! (Found family again) Bucky wasn't fond of it at first but Peter was actually a good kid after he got to know him. He stopped his metal arm ffs so Bucky figured he can babysit her bc she would be safe. Especially bc of his Spidey senses that alert him whenever something might be wrong.

So peter became an older brother and you can bet that he got her to watch star wars and other nerdy stuff

And hey, her dad is a nerd too, she will be as well. LOTR? She has every book already.

Now back to Bucky.

He would do anything for his little girl

He never thought he would have a family after he got drafted into the war. And especially after he became the winter soldier. Because who would trust and love him enough to create a little baby with him?

Well he found the right girl

And then little Becca was born and he was in love with her

Becca loves her daddy so much, she is daddy's girl no doubt.

And just like she comes to him for nightmares, whenever she hears her dad having trouble sleeping she would get out of bed with her stuffed white wolf and she would come and ask him if he had a nightmare.

Then she would come to bed and give him the stuffed animal so he can hug it just like she does for comfort.

She is always surrounded by love from her big family and especially from her loving dad

So she always gives it back

And Bucky could not be happier that he has his little girl here with him.

The end.

... For now at least.

[chocolate-parfait]

I've never sent an ask before so I apologize if I'm doing something wrong, but could I maybe request some more Gen Z mc headcanons? I just love the idea of mc having a platonic younger/older sibling dynamic especially with Napoleon and Jean 🥺👉👈

dw, dw! here it is✨

Gen Z!MC (pt. 2) - ikevamp headcanons (Napoleon & Jean)

Napoleon

You and Napoleon get along amazingly from the start. Sure, there is a generational gap and many of the things you do or laugh at cannot be explained, but believe me when I say that his charisma and open mindedness make up for it, a lot.

Being the naturally caring person he is, he immediately takes you under his wing (he basically adopts you, like he did with Jean and Isaac). No one is allowed to lay a hand on you for the whole month, else they'd have to catch his hands and sword. Related to this, no matter how much you tell him that you can fight on your own, he will NOT let you. First, he will have you join on his sparring sessions with Jean and teach you the basics, maybe even tell you a thing or two on how to throw a punch, but he'd rather have you safe and sound than covered in bruises and bloody scars.

This may paint him in a slightly overprotective light, but you probably won't even notice it unless you're throwing yourself headfirst into danger. A creep is harassing a woman in the street? Napoleon will deal with it before you can move another step. He was a soldier and an emperor, he has fought for a future of peace and equality, and you, the fruit of his hard work, should avoid any kind of bloodshed.

On the other hand, if the fight is verbal, he will 100% support you and cheer you on. He absolutely adores it whenever he sees the eloquence and unwavering confidence with which you defend your ideals, and he wonders whether a father would be feeling the same way.

Another thing he appreciates about you, is your humor. Although sometimes it kinda upsets him and makes him think about the type of society you must be coming from (self deprecating jokes, mostly), he cannot help but get a good laugh or two whenever he sees you laughing at the most nonsensical things.

One day, he, you and Arthur were talking about your life in the 21st century, when you happened to mention a friend of yours. "..oh yeah! This actually reminds me of my friend, Joe. Though it's too bad that he died of ligma" "I'm so sorry to heart that... what's... what's ligma though? A new illness?" "🕴 L I G M A B A L L S 🕴" im sorry this joke is overused but its 1AM and i saw it on a jujutsu kaisen tiktok pls beare with me

(+ you and Arthur falling to the ground, tears in your eyes and the most horrible whale noises filling up the whole room)

Other times you come up with the most original and unusual phrases that don't match your usual speech at all. "MC, what were you doing before coming here?" "I had sworn an oath of solitude 'till the blight was purged from mine lands" "What..?" "I was in quarantine because of a global pandemic" Oh.

When the time comes for you to say goodbye, he will, of course, feel a heavy dagger in his heart, but he'll gladly let you return to your peaceful time, the place where you belong to the most. Knowing you, you'll surely be fine, after all.

Jean

He's confused at first. You're young, somewhere near his age back when he was alive, and according to what you told the others you come from a """relatively""" peaceful time. without considering police brutality, discriminations, wars in certain countries, and a pandemic. Let's just say that many of us can lead a life without going to war and such But why, why are you so cursed?

Saying that he's taken aback would be an understatement. He simply cannot get more than half of what you talk about, he's not a social butterfly and he struggles with being open with others; you, however, don't seem to mind it too much. You approach him, fearlessly and with genuinely good intentions only. He resists and tries putting distance between you, but there's something, something that makes him want to talk to you, laugh with you and understand you more.

Your arrival shows him that which he could not be. A simple teenager. An innocent person who peacefully lives without having to worry about traitors, incoming battles and the sight of dead comrades in a puddle of their down blood. You look so carefree in whatever you do, even when nervous and hesitant, and yet you do not lack depth. He has seen you defending your principles, the fire in your eyes and spirit wholly concentrated on your interlocutors. Could he have been like that, too, if he had been given the chance?

Ever since meeting you, he's become more and more determined to learn the basics which he had completely missed during a time of war. Reading and writing, for example. He's not as naive as to completely let go of all his sins, but the untainted side of him, which had survived so many years of slaughter and had tied the adjectives "saint" and "pure" to his name, pushed him to work hard for those simple yet rewarding goals.

He's utterly at a loss for words when you propose to help him out though, and even more when he sees the lack of judgmental sneer in your eyes. Could you really be so innocent? Or perhaps it's a sign of your maturity and benevolence? Maybe you two are not so different, after all. Sure, you may be one hell of an oddball, but he surely isn't that normal, either

Whether he likes it or not, Jean subconsciously starts considering you as a younger sibling, and he feels the need to protect you by sacrificing himself; he's the only one with stained hands, you should remain the way you are. Pure and childlike, like he used to be. This will bring you to butt heads every now and then, because yours is not a kindness that stems from ignorance, but from open mindedness and awareness. In the end, you're both mutually taking care of each other, and it's so wholesome that someone's younger brother might feel a bit jealous of your bond.

Teach him some modern songs and some slangs (Jean to the other residents: wassup, my fellow homies!), tell him about popular blockbusters and bestseller stories, do some popular challenges with him, like the chubby bunny one but using macarons instead. Jean will naturally develop a smile, and his usual dark aura will slowly dissipate, like a clear sky after a thunderstorm.

After the month passes by, he gets more and more nervous as the day of your departure gets closer. He's used to saying goodbyes before heading into battle, prepared not to come back alive anymore, but to do it with someone who will be alive, even if years and years after your present time? That's definitely a first for him. Nevertheless, knowing the time where you'll be going back to, he feels reassured, and is finally able, perhaps for the first time in his turbulent life, to say "goodbye" with a smile on his face

[akitokihojo]

Monster - Chapter 1

And, here we go. Chapter 1 of this monstrosity (no pun intended) is now up and running below, on AO3, and on FF.net.

I'm going to be completely and 100% honest with everyone before you start reading, so please heed this warning! This first chapter is rough in the sense where it contains a bit of brutality and the death of a child. So far, this is the only gruesome chapter, and while the gore is NOT detailed, I still want my more sensitive readers to be wary.

This is the most action-packed fic I've ever written, and also the most expansive world I've ever built (in my humble opinion). With that being said, while the setting is a bit more on the historical side, there are plenty of modern references. For instance, not in this chapter but in future ones, a bathroom is just a bathroom. I don't mention plumbing or the lack thereof. My attention and energy was on more important things and I just didn't care about those details, lol. Additionally, a lot of slang, jokes, and references are fairly modern. Don't @ me (but also do). All-in-all, what I'm trying to say is I built my own damn world where there is no historical accuracy, so don't go looking for it, lol.

Unless otherwise stated, I plan to post each new chapter every Friday. So, yeah... I think that's all I've got to say.... have fun! Enjoy! Thank you for reading! Ily! Bon Voyage! Don't hate me!

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The responsibility is ours.

Kagome gasped as her feet slid in the mud, the small decline of the path she and her younger brother hurried down gradually becoming more slippery as the rain began to pour harder. Through the noise of the droplets and the sloshing of their boots, she heard a slight commotion; horses’ huffs, heavy feet, and boisterous men barking orders. Initially, she’d figured it was the village men ushering their families indoors, their livestock into barns, their carts and tools under shelter, and their firewood into a dry place as the storm reared its ugly head. The sunset sky was shadowed in gloom, thunder making it’s entrance in the far distance as it was bound to be banging on their doors and windows in no time. But, at the tug of her arm by her sibling, her attention was shifted to the actual cause of it all: Naraku’s henchmen.

“Again?” She shuddered resentfully.

“Third time this month.” Sota confirmed, clenching his jaw as he slightly tugged his sister behind his smaller frame. He was perfectly aware that he was only twelve, well in the know that he stood no taller than her shoulders, but he’d be damned if he did nothing because of it.

This time, there wasn’t a hoard of them. No, there were merely four, all of which were already off of their horses on the main path through their little village, making demands and threatening anyone who got in the way of their objective.

Throughout the last four and a half years since Naraku rose as a fearsome demon that easily brought down peaceful powers and attempted to control the world Kagome knew, she’d become more than familiar with this procedure. It wasn’t until just recently that they’d started coming more often than a monthly visit, though. And, it was no secret what, or who, they were after.

Her.

Anyone of her kind, really.

She was different. She was hunted. Those like her were supposedly powerful, but matters being what they were had caused anyone who shared a similar fate to subdue their abilities to the point of total lack of recognition of their true potential. At least, that’s how it was in most cases. Because, if they were found out, they were killed on sight. The reason for it was entirely unknown. Naraku didn’t just target them, though; he made everyone’s lives hell, especially if they stood out in a supernatural manner. So, while she figured there had to be a yet-to-be-identified reason, she felt it was safe to assume it was also just because he could. Maybe he didn’t like the threat of other, similar forces that could collide against him. Maybe he was egotistical enough to think he was the only deserving being. Whatever the case, he was cruel.

Kagome’s kind had several names through the decades - so many, she hardly knew the correct term for herself. At one point, ages ago, they were called banshees. The title didn’t make sense whatsoever, given their powers and what a banshee actually was, and the story was so old that she didn’t know where the justification even stemmed from, but it caused them to be feared, and for that, she honestly wouldn’t have totally minded if the name stuck around. They were called priestesses, but then it sounded too peaceful, too practiced, and it painted them as “good.” They were called witches, mages, sorceresses, but they committed no typical magic of that sort. Kagome didn’t know a single spell, nor did she have nearly enough time in the day to pack an array of herbs, spices, and what have you into jars that were sealed with candle wax - though she had caught wind that there were some older women of her kind with the ability to curse. Now, they were called conjurers. Their abilities were that of the spirit, aiding with protection, purifying dark forces - passively or forcefully, bringing forth light, and more she was sure.

In Kagome’s unpopular opinion, given what they could do and what they supposedly stood for, priestess was more suitable a term, but she also understood that there was nothing holy about the world they lived in.

There was no birthmark of the conjurer. There was no dead giveaway of their kind. The powers were gifted at random, as far as she knew, not passed down through lineage. The only thing Naraku and his followers seemingly had to go off of was that conjurers were born female.

Sometimes, they’d conduct their mission by way of senseless inspections. They’d rip apart the insides of homes looking for all the wrong things in all the wrong places. Truthfully, with how absurd they carried themselves, it was obvious they didn’t know the telltale signs they were looking for and were wasting their time. Which was what made it clear that for them to be so clueless, even Naraku didn’t know all there was that made up a conjurer. They were ignorant and they were blind, but they were also relentless and ruthless.

The days where they singled women out were the worst. Kagome, so far, was spared that cruelty, but that didn’t make it any better. It was usually the more mature, the elderly, that received the short end of the stick.

More often than anything, they’d line up every woman and girl in town and go down the rows one-by-one, stimulating their nerves in one way or another to see if they could get a “conjurer’s reaction.” Kagome could only guess that meant a sudden surge of purification power. It was the main trait conjurers were known for; but they were going about it wrong. Screaming in their faces, threatening everyone, or jostling them around a bit wasn’t going to get the demons purified, no matter how much she wanted to toss something their way. Of course, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell them that.

Every so often, they’d come in a pack and create havoc with violence. They said it was their way to pressure people into giving up any information they might have, but in all honesty, the smiles some of the brute demons wore said they were bored and simply wanted a little entertainment. Apparently, screaming and pleading were equivalent to a musical number in their bloodlust eyes.

Their own little group of demon slayers that resided in the village helped prevent this from happening when they could, which was why the henchmen came in numbers. The demon slayers fought for a sense of control, not to kill. They would only allow so much, but belligerent violence was not an option. It was obvious that, as of late, their village was a targeted spot, one that got a little more attention than neighboring towns, and for what reason, no one knew. They didn’t have the fighting power to win that sort of fight, though, and the leader of the group of slayers was sensible enough to understand this and explain it to the masses that questioned them. They were made up of a handful of men with rigorous combat skills they didn’t learn from home, refused to take recruits below a certain age, and could only train so many at a time. As much as they’d all love to retaliate and end things for good, intuition was telling them not to in that manner. Even Kagome felt that. Deep in her gut, she knew that even if they could, killing them would only put the people of the village in a worse position. This wasn’t something that would stop by taking out the underlings. Not at all. Far from it. Anyone who was paying attention could see that they’d need to exterminate the head honcho in order for any positive difference to be made.

Unfortunately for them this time around, their little pack of demon slayers had left on a request to take care of a troublesome demon a little ways off just that morning. And, listening to the henchmen now, seeing them in their dark leather, their cloaks, feeling their dangerous energies wafting through the streets of their little town, Kagome could tell that they were going to do whatever they wanted tonight, despite the fact that it was just the four of them. It wouldn’t be horrible, and would most likely be a lineup, but they were definitely going to take their sweet time and see who they could break.

“There’s still time. They haven’t noticed you. We can hide you.” Her younger brother said, his tone more on the convicted side as opposed to suggestive. He should have known she wouldn’t have gone for it, though. So long as every other woman and girl had to stand in front of their villainous promises and vile breath, so long as her mother had to keep a straight face, Kagome would always stand there with them. She’d made a promise to her brother, her older cousin, and especially her mom that she’d never willingly out herself for no reason, but she just couldn’t bring herself to hide when everyone else had to stand through their harassment. She swore that if the demons were ever convinced an innocent was a conjurer, that was the reason to give herself over.

Never would Kagome allow another to mistakenly go down in her stead.

No one but her family knew of her powers, and until necessary, it would stay that way. According to her cousin, the more people that knew, the increased danger she was in.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She shook her head, minding her steps through the small slope of mud as she gently pulled her arm out of Sota’s grip.

“Miroku would say the same thing if he were with us.” He argued.

“Yeah, well he’s not. In fact, he’s probably getting himself into trouble by picking a fight with one of those goons.”

“Kagome, I have a bad feeling about this. Come on, just listen for once.”

“Okay,” She stopped, turning around to challenge his look. “Say something bad is going to happen. Knowing these assholes, you really think my absence will stop that?”

“No, but -“

“Right. They’re going to do something no matter what, correct?”

“Kagome -“

“And then what?”

“And then they’re wrong, but they didn’t get you.”

“How is that fair to the person they might hurt?”

“That person isn’t my sister.”

“What if it’s mom?”

Sota’s eyes slighted to the side, a heated huff leaving his lips just before he begrudgingly sealed them. His jaw clenched minutely as his head gave a little shake, brown eyes once more meeting his sibling’s. “Miroku and I will protect her.”

Kagome gave a fed up smile, sighing, rolling her eyes, and turning back on her heel to continue toward the main path. Families came out of their homes dressed in cloaks as they prepared to, once more, be harassed until Naraku’s men exhausted themselves, husbands and male relatives holding resentful expressions as they guarded their female family members until they couldn’t any longer.

“Kagome!”

“Sota, quit it. The louder you are, the more suspicious we become.” She quietly warned. Kagome heard her brother’s aggravated grumble before he jogged forward to catch up, his demeanor holding much like every other male in the village.

No one’s feet rushed toward the excitement. The tension of the town was up so dramatically that Kagome could physically feel the crushing weight of it all, the anxiety as they made their way closer to their disgusting visitors was causing her stomach to bubble and waver, and her throat constricted nervously as she and Sota finally met up with the crowd, her brown eyes scouring over shoulders to scout out her family. Sota’s hand encircled her wrist firmly, tugging her to the right as he found them and guided her over. Miroku stood tall in front of their mother, brows noticeably creased and indigo eyes straight ahead until he’d caught their movement in his peripheral vision. Immediately, his posture squared further, as if enlarging his shoulders so that he’d be able to successfully hide both Kagome and his aunt behind his frame. Her mother held out her hand for Kagome to take as soon as they were close enough, a peaceful smile unsurprisingly gracing her lips while she pulled her in, shoulder-to-shoulder. Somehow, no matter the circumstances, she always did her best to calm Kagome’s nerves with the simplest of sweet gestures. Sota took his spot before them, influenced by Miroku’s stature as he replicated it.

Allowing herself a brief moment, Kagome bowed her head further, bracing it on her older cousin’s shoulder. She shut her eyes, inhaling slowly, deeply, attempting to release her trepidation with a long and heated exhale before composing herself and straightening out.

“- But this is too much! Why the hell are you back again!? There’s no conjurer in our village! Don’t you fucking get that by now!?” A man shouted, livid, and it was evident she and her brother had missed the beginning of the argument playing out in the center of the uneven circle created by people.

“Get the fuck out of the way!” One of Naraku’s men yelled back.

“Not until you tell us why you’re back for the third time!”

“Would you rather we made ourselves at home!?” Silence from the opposing man answered his question clearly. “That’s what I fucking thought.” He spewed, and Kagome could hear the spittle fly out as he cursed. His attention returned to the general public, his tone shifting from vicious to gruff as he made his command. “Only girls ranging from ages five to twenty, line up! Now!”

Increased unsettlement coursed through the crowd, mothers and fathers clinging to their young daughters, little girls’ fearful whimpers polluting the air as they hid their faces in their parents’ legs, and even Kagome’s own mother’s hand tightened her grip as a breathy gasp left her lips - understanding that this meant her eighteen year old daughter was being sent into the fire without her. They were narrowing down, slimming the numbers, and the small smiles on the villains’ faces made Kagome assume that something last time may have tipped them off to lessen the demographic.

“What do I do?” Kagome whispered to her cousin, failing in her attempt to hide the sudden panic striking her.

“Nothing. You do nothing.” He urged quietly, shifting his head to look into his younger relative’s eyes. “Listen, Kagome, treat this like routine -“

“This isn’t routine.”

“Treat it like it is. Keep your head down.”

“If they -“

“No.”

“But, they’ll -“

“Kagome, no. You made us a promise.” Miroku reminded firmly, knowing exactly where her mind was traveling. In the case of an incident, which there seemed to be a higher chance of this time around, she may need to intercede.

She took a deep breath, straightening her face as much as possible so Naraku’s men wouldn’t grow suspicious as they impatiently yelled again for the girls to gather before them. “If this means they suspect something -“

“It may just be a tactic they’re using. For all we know, they have nothing and could leave here with the same. So, treat it like routine. Okay?”

“Promise.” Sota insisted during Kagome’s silence. The mens’ barking got louder, more demanding, as did the crying of little girls being pulled away from their parents. With the building weight in her chest, like a liquid filling her lungs quickly, the density making it almost impossible to take full breaths of air or move without falling forward, all she could muster was a meager nod before forcing herself to walk out. Miroku and Sota both leaned to opposite sides to part their shoulders for her to move through, her mother’s soft hand still lightly holding her own until she was far enough for their fingers to slide away from each other’s.

At most, there were about twenty girls in that age range to offer, and Kagome’s brown eyes drifted over the uneven row of heads as she approached, finding her friend in the mix trying to calm the little girl beside her. Sango glanced her way, as if feeling Kagome’s eyes on her, giving an apprehensive grin and waving her over.

“Ready?” Kagome asked, though it was completely rhetorical. It was just habit for these things. It was unavoidable, unexpected, and overall, impossible to be ready for. But, when they bounced the question off of each other, it was like one final reminder to stone.

Sango knew. Sango and her family were the one exception to the familial rule. She was Kagome’s closest friend and Miroku’s significant other. She was more than trustworthy. And, more importantly, had known since Kagome accidentally found out, herself, as a kid. Because, that’s how it was being a conjurer. You weren’t born knowing. You didn’t have an outward appearance that proclaimed your status much like demons did. It was always an accidental happenstance; in her case where she put a little too much oomph into her bow and arrow lessons and purified the evil - and life - right out of a passing crow demon after missing her target.

She remembered the feeling of total surprise, then tremendous fear because she thought she’d be in a lot of trouble. Kagome had literally thrown her bow to the ground like the thing, itself, was the culprit of the power. Miroku was gawking, Sango was covering her mouth with both hands, and their dad’s shared an identical, tight-lipped expression. Her papa was motionless for an overwhelmingly-tense sixty seconds before shifting his wide, curious eyes to her.

“Did you know you could do that?” He’d asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, daddy.” Kagome innocently answered, but she could feel the red, hot heat in her face from her lie. She was awful at those when it came to the people she was close to. Still was to this day. Give her a stranger and she could keep it straight, but in the face of friends and family, she cracked almost too easily. It was a guilt thing.

But then he’d laughed, ruffling his little girl’s hair before reassuring her that it was okay. He said they’d just have to go about her training a little differently from that point on to make sure accidents like that didn’t keep happening, and it was only because of him, his adventurism, his accessibility to knowledge from his travels, that she even discovered what she was in the first place.

Back then, though it wasn’t quite as dangerous to exist as a conjurer, her papa had still suggested they keep her abilities under wraps. She distinctly remembered binding that with a pinky promise after Sango’s dad had a private discussion with her own. Maybe it was because Sango’s dad was even more educated with the world, and knew the potential hardships that could come her way, being the leader of the demon slayers that he was - and still is. Honestly, the reasoning was hard to determine now because she didn’t put much thought into it when she could and should have. Being the young, spunky, loyal girl that she was, if her dad wanted her to keep a secret and held out his pinky to her, that was all the reason Kagome needed, and nothing pleased her more than making her papa proud. And, when he and her uncle were fatally wounded in a demon attack on their village, even though Naraku’s name had never once yet been muttered near her ears, he still made her do one final pinky promise to him saying, “Protect yourself for me, my little bird. Keep it in its cage. I love you so much, Kagome.”

She wasn’t even a teenager when that had happened. There was a part of her that wondered here and there if he was secretly clairvoyant, or if he merely studied the patterns throughout history of people of her kind and wanted nothing more than to keep her safe and make her life as easy as possible, given the reputation they had, their ever-changing titles, and the ignorance others had of their nature. If only he knew where she was now. Would he still ask his little bird to stay in the cage while the door was wide open?

“Ready. You?” Sango returned, standing straight and allowing the little girl to cling to her leg.

“Ready.” Kagome breathed.

Those not lined up hesitantly backed away, creating space and growing agonizingly silent as they seemingly held their breaths for those that were chosen. Kagome hated when they did that. It was like she could physically feel the onlookers’ anxiety, and it was the last thing she needed on top of that of those actually subjected and her own.

The four men walked back and forth, up and down the two rows of girls, criminal eyes taunting them with silent threats and menacing grins. It was creepy, but no longer was it fear-inducing. Kagome had a bad habit of not shying away anymore. Sure, she was nervous beyond belief, but the last thing she was afraid of were their snarls, scarred and dirty flesh, and crooked teeth. That, of all things, was the least intimidating factor for those who were calloused to the routine.

But, when an abrupt instruction was given by the leader, her already-loose expectations of “routine” fell apart completely.

“Hold out your left hands, palms up!”

Confusion soared through every individual, and Kagome met Sango’s brief side glance, minutely comforted by the fact that she wasn’t the only one without a clue as to what was going on. Questions weren’t allowed though, and even the little ones were well aware of that, so as the small group of men demanded everyone shut up and do it, all outward bafflement dissipated.

Slowly, Kagome raised her left palm, her arm outstretched, swallowing as she willed the slight trembling to cease. Brown eyes searched quickly as she waited for whatever to begin, weeding through the crowd and finding Miroku already pinning her with a stare. It was wary, but hard, his jaw visibly tense.

The sound of an unsheathing blade was unmistakable, and immediately Kagome’s attention bounced to her left where the leader danced the grip of a knife in his fingers, his lips curved downward into a permanent frown. The first girl in line couldn’t have been any older than fifteen, noticeably shaking as her anxious stare bounced from the man to the blade.

A man in the crowd began shouting, stirring, pushing forward through the heap of villagers to reach the forefront, “Hey! No! What are you going to do!? That’s my daughter; what are you going to do!? Don’t you dare touch -“ Abruptly silenced by a defensive elbow to the diaphragm, gifted by an all-too-fast demon.

The young teenager shuddered, not sure what to worry about first as the leader gave her no moment to react, grabbed her hand, extended it further, and gave a small slice with the tip of his knife to the center of her palm. She winced, a whimper easily escaping her mouth from the sharp pain, tears leaking from her eyes quicker than the blood that seeped from her laceration. And then he grabbed her hand in his, sealing their palms together as he stared her in the eyes for a moment. She was utterly terrified, wanting to pull away while knowing she shouldn’t, but as nothing else happened, the man released her, murmuring to stay in line as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his blade, his hand, then moved onto the next.

Kagome’s attention snapped back to Miroku as it dawned on her, his eyes holding the same idea as he gave a steady but stern shake of his head in retort. They were looking for the untrained conjurers. The conjurers who weren’t skilled in holding back. Everyone was already scared, and the wound inflicted a heightened sense of fight-or-flight. Then their hands gripping the victims’ - their demon hands against the victims’… they were working to spark a purification reaction, and they were going about it right this time. It wouldn’t be strong enough to kill them, nothing that small or unsuspecting would be, but it would hurt - much like the notorious fairytale of a vampire taking a quick step into the sunlight before swiftly turning around and heading back inside. And, that was all they needed.

Unbeknownst to everyone but Sango and Miroku, Kagome wasn’t completely helpless. Not only was she well-versed in subduing her powers, but alternatively speaking, she could knock a guy completely on his ass. She’d practiced. She’d practiced for hours at a time for several years now to see what she could do, what sort of strength she possessed, all on the far outskirts of the village, hiding near caves with only her friend and cousin who'd agreed, despite promises and secrets, that they all should try to be prepared for anything. By no means was she an expert, but she could handle her own for the most part and a situation like this was something she’d been well-conditioned for, for quite some time now.

Especially since she’d first received that message in a dream.

The responsibility is ours.

Whatever it meant, no matter how bleak it felt, it was a no-brainer that Kagome couldn’t go on without some sort of knowledge of her own potential.

She took a shallow breath, diverting her gaze to the goon before her as he happily took out his own blade, the other two following suit as they set out to narrow the time this was going to take. He stepped forward, grasping the wrist of the frightened and resistant girl beside Sango, who Sango had to hush into calming, telling her it would be done quickly. When nothing gratifying came from the occurrence, the man moved on to Sango, pinning her with a glare that she challenged right back. She hardly flinched at the slice of her skin, brown eyes never leaving the demonic ones of her assailant. When she shrugged a brow as he clasped their hands together, Kagome could practically see the heat rising in the man’s body language, quickly fuming from how audacious Sango was acting - which Kagome couldn’t help but respect, not knowing if the chuckle she forcefully swallowed was one of matched humor or nervousness.

The man threw Sango’s hand to the side, merely wiping her blood from his palm and blade on his pants before vehemently grabbing Kagome’s and extending her arm completely, bringing an inadvertent gasp to escape her throat. As the tip of his knife pierced her palm, dragging slowly to create a burning gash - one larger than Sango’s, so she suspected her nonchalant pass of amusement wasn’t as admissible as she’d thought - Kagome couldn’t stop the hiss that slid off her tongue, her brows creasing and jaw dropping as crimson dripped from her hand to the mud. With a clap, he pressed his palm to hers, fingers squeezing her small hand with unmitigated pressure. She felt a flurry in her abdomen, her diaphragm, her chest, warmth that drove her power, and that was her cue to hold her breath, to pretend everything was fine, to tell herself she was safe and trick her mind when she really wasn’t. She pretended she was holding Sota’s hand - the first person that came to mind, and the least intimidating one that she knew. Sota as an adult whose hand was finally bigger than hers. She couldn’t help but feel this was a huge insult to her younger brother, so she subconsciously apologized as she continued her visualization. It was like a lump built in her throat, the kind that grew too difficult to swallow, but she also felt completely in control, returning the man’s stare before he dropped her hand and moved onto the girl beside her.

“Shh,” Sango gently hushed the small child. “Everything’s fine now, but you have to stay quiet. Give me your hand.”

Kagome slowly let out her captive breath, the air she sucked in to replace it cold and not the least bit comforting despite the danger she’d evaded. She kept her palm face up but closer to her heart, cradling it for a moment as she tried to ignore the searing pain, diverting her attention to Sango and the kid. Her best friend was already looking up at her, using the long sleeve of her shirt to clean the blood from the girl’s hand and apply pressure so it’d stop bleeding, never minding the bleeding of her own palm. Thankfully, it only looked to be a little knick, and Kagome wondered if the creep of a demon that had handled them secretly had a soft spot for children.

“You okay?” Sango silently mouthed to Kagome. She nodded in reply, picking up the bottom hem of her own shirt and pressing it to her wound.

A sudden, deep, and broken yell punched through the air as one of the demons stumbled away, his hand yanked back, fingers furled in offense, and face twisted in rage. A little girl shrieked as he lunged forward, grabbing her by the collar of her cloak and pulling her out of the line, her feet stumbling to keep up as she cried apology after apology.

No. Conjurers weren’t common; now more than ever. How could there be two in one village? Especially one as small as theirs? How could there be more than one not even miles apart? How did Kagome not know? Didn’t conjurers have the ability to sense one another? She’d only assumed that was the case because of the seemingly-prophetic dreams she’d been having; because of the woman that had been coming to her in those very dreams. It was a weak hypothesis to go off of, but it was the only answer that made sense to Kagome. But, now there was a child being dragged into the center of where the town congregated, begging and pleading for her life while her mother screamed from the sidelines where she was being held at bay, and Kagome was none the wiser to her existence.

She wanted to yell that they were wrong, but how could they have been? It was a physical test. The accidental reaction of her powers was a dead giveaway. They couldn’t even lie their way out of this, or pretend the allegation was false. She was a conjurer. And they were about to kill her.

Kagome’s heart twisted and bunched painfully, that hard lump once more building in her throat, a murmured, “no,” barely leaving her parted lips, and her brown eyes caught a pleased grin on the approaching leader’s face that, just moments ago, seemed stuck in a scowl. He twirled his dagger in his fingers before kneeling down in front of the weeping girl.

“Found you.” He snickered, plunging the blade into her abdomen.

“No!” Kagome gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth in shock. The village was alight with terror, screams, cries, the rumble of defeat, the wailing of a grieving mother striking over all other sounds. Still, she was withheld from her little girl, reaching for her over the shoulder of the unforgiving demon who kept her away.

The knife was yanked free of the girl’s gut and she fell to her knees, her hands braced before her stomach as crimson crawled out, staining the front of her rain-soaked dress. Small hands weakly pressed into her abdomen, the wide look of horror, of pain, of fear etched into every inch of her expression as she gasped tremblingly. All too easily, the leader stood and walked away, not an ounce of remorse displayed.

“She was… she was just a kid.” A sympathetic village man stated morosely. “She wasn’t even ten yet.”

“She wasn’t dangerous!” Another testified.

“Would you like to be next?” A demon threatened, thinking his raised voice would retain order.

Kagome could hardly breathe, tears burning and brimming at her lower lid. All she could think to do was try to stop the bleeding, try to save the child, her feet moving on their own accord as she rushed out of line. Beyond the anger building in the crowd, the yelling growing louder, and the intense disturbance increasing rapidly and overwhelmingly, Kagome heard her name called multiple times. But, she couldn’t bring herself to listen, to stop, as she skidded to her knees in the mud, her arms catching the little girl as she fell forward. Her mother was finally freed, racing over and falling to the ground at her child’s side, helping through her weeping to lay her on her back.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here.” She soothed as best as she could, hovering over her daughter's face so the rain wouldn’t hit it, shaking fingers pushing sopping hair from her cheeks.

Kagome grabbed the length from the girl’s cloak that stuck out on her side, bunching it and pressing firmly into the wound. The choked gasp that came from the kid was agonizing, and Kagome apologized profusely, blinking away her own tears as she whipped her head around to take in the rousing group of people, fury evident in their tones, in their bodies, as they returned threats with the offending demons.

“Where’s the doctor!?” Kagome asked as loudly as she could, her soaked, dark hair whipping her in the face as she spun her head around to try and find their town's self-proclaimed physician. “Help! We need help!”

“He isn’t here; he left for herbs yesterday.” Sango informed as she dropped down beside Kagome.

“And he still isn’t back!?”

“The storm must have delayed him.” Sango shook her head in response, her brows creased together as she glanced over her shoulder to quickly mind the budding commotion before turning her worried expression back toward the crying child. “What can I do? How can I help?”

“I don’t - I don’t know.” Kagome stammered, her breathing growing heavier as she panicked, noticing the blood was barely halting, the stain in the girl’s dress expanding and absorbing through the cloth she pressed against the wound.

“Apply pressure!” Miroku instructed when he slid to his knees in the mud on their opposite side, careful of the girl’s mother.

“I am!” Kagome cried.

“Stay with me, baby! Stay with me! I’m right here, look at me!” The woman coo’d, sniffling and gasping with her tremors while the comforting smile never left her lips.

“Hey! Leave her! Let her die, or we’ll kill you too!” One of the vile men demanded, though his shouts went ignored, easily drowned out by the encroaching, enraged men who finally appeared fueled enough to physically challenge them. Kagome could only hope they’d hold the demons back so they’d have the chance to save her.

“Here, let me see!” Miroku pushed Kagome’s shaking hands away, pulling aside the cloth of the cloak to take a peek at the wound in her stomach. Kagome had to look away then, the sight of the thick blood seeping through too much to handle. Instead, she focused her attention on the little girl, crawling up to hold her cold, bleeding hand.

Scared, pained, blue eyes focused on Kagome as she took shuddering breaths, her chest convulsing slightly as her small voice broke with her cries. Little fingers softly gripped her hand in return, and the tiniest of smiles curved her lips upward, light beginning to dim from her irises.

“Miroku!” Kagome urged. She glanced back at him and noticed the hopeless expression on his face. One that claimed there was nothing anyone could do. Her heart dropped, a nauseating weight filling her stomach. Quickly, she turned back to the little girl, leaning an inch closer. “Kikyo and the other conjurers, they’re gonna win, okay? We’re gonna win. I promise.”

“Who’s…”

“You! What did you just say!?” Heavy steps sloshed in the mud toward them, his voice low, growling, dangerous.

Kagome had spoken up to be sure the girl had heard her over the yelling, but she hadn’t realized that it could have been heard by anyone else. She didn’t think about the ramifications. She didn’t think. She’d just wanted to fill the child with some form of final hope. What was wrong with that? Was it the fact that she’d said Naraku would fall?

She’d hardly had enough time to turn and react before she was grabbed by the hair and lifted to her feet, yelping as she was dragged back and away.

“You mentioned Kikyo!” He exclaimed, giving a forceful yank as Kagome loudly gasped from her constant stumbling, the pain on her scalp, the fear racing through her. In the thick of it, she’d forgotten Kikyo wasn’t a person who was widely known. She’d forgotten Kikyo was a secret beacon of hope to the surviving conjurers, who appeared in dreams and spoke in riddles.

“No!” Was all she could manage to reply, screamed brokenly, heard clearly throughout the number of villagers around as the action died down and all attention was on them.

“How do you know her!?”

She yelped again, forcefully pulled backward and released to only trip and fall over some tools.

“Tell me, wench!” He demanded, picking Kagome up by her throat and slamming her back against the wall of a home.

“I don’t!” She adamantly swore, still able to speak. His grip was there, but not choking.

“Liar!” He said, slapping her hard across the face. “How do you know Kikyo!?”

“I heard of her in passing!” Kagome cried, wincing from the sting before she was forced to look at him again.

“I find that hard to believe.” He growled, inching closer to her face. His hold on her throat tightened, cutting off air, thick fingers pinching painfully into the sides of her neck. “Where is she?”

“I - I don’t know.” She sputtered, wheezed, her tears hot as they glided down her face. The rain was nothing but a drizzle now, though the distant sound of thunder roared angrily. She was both cold and hot, her lungs begging for air as his hand pushed further against her windpipe.

“Stop it! Let her go!” Miroku barked, and his presence was just enough to distract Naraku’s henchman and cause him to release some tension from her throat. Kagome greedily sucked in as much air as she could, though he still constricted his fingers against her. It was like breathing through a straw.

Her cousin stood there, dark hair sticking to his temples, bloodied hands braced before him as if to reason. “She doesn’t know anything; she just told you!”

“Oh, another tough guy?” A demon behind him chuckled. “A little scrawny for that, don’t you think?”

“You have me wrong, I don’t want to fight. Release my cousin, and we’ll back away peacefully. She meant no harm.”

“The harm was done when she stepped out of place to save the girl!”

“She was a child!”

“She’s a conjurer! She has no place in this world!”

“She did! She did have a place in this world, and we all know it!”

“You best shut the fuck up, boy.” The leader said from the sidelines. “Word may carry that you’re on their side. Now, you wouldn’t want that. Would you?”

“Tell him to let go of her.” Miroku sternly ordered.

“Back off.”

“Let her go!”

“Suit yourself. Have some fun.” Their leader flicked a finger at the two other demons, allowing them to do as they pleased.

Miroku hissed a low, “Fuck,” before dodging a hit from one of the two demons enclosing in on him. He was able to throw one of his own, nailing an ugly bastard in the face before he was grabbed from behind, bulky arms wrapping under and over his shoulders to hold him in place. The other demon was eager while he arrogantly approached in front of him, smiling as he punched Miroku in the stomach.

“Stop! Miroku!” Kagome squirmed against her own offender’s grasp, her instincts beginning to kick in as she felt a wild sensation build in her veins. Something righteous whispered the power she held in her ear, told her to use her abilities to save her cousin, further fueling the heat that made her forget about the nip in the air.

“Kagome, don’t!” Miroku coughed, pinning her with his indigo gaze before his eyes pinched shut from a swift hit to his diaphragm, blood dribbling over his bottom lip and down his chin.

Control sucked Kagome back to the present, the earnest crackle of Miroku’s voice ringing in her ears and overpowering the one that told her to fight. The grip against her throat tightened again, closing off her air passage as red eyes turned back to her, the lines of his frown deep.

“Don’t, what?”

Kagome wasn’t sure if he actually expected an answer or not, but he’d made it physically impossible. She clawed her nails along the thick skin of his large hand, trying to pry him away so she could breathe. It was dire that she didn’t use her powers; she understood this. But, as the adrenaline raced violently through her body, it was growing increasingly harder to keep it subdued. She’d be killed in a heartbeat; she’d already witnessed their unforgiving lack of hesitation. Her mother and younger brother would have to watch. Her cousin, too. She’d promised everyone she would protect herself, and she'd promised herself that she would protect them. Above all that, a different, deeper, more rational voice spoke to her, drowning out the one that told her to take action just a moment ago, telling her that her fight was meant for somewhere else. Something bigger. She could practically feel the breath hitting her ear, urging her of the importance. It told her to swallow it, hold it at bay, keep it buried no matter how badly it burned for release at the underside of her flesh. Keep it in its cage.

Finally, the demon released his tight hold on her neck, opting to firmly grip the front of her shirt. His upper lip twitched in disdain while Kagome sputtered, and coughed, and gasped for air to fill her lungs.

“Don’t, what?” Naraku’s henchman repeated, this time a little lighter, and it was impossible to miss that he was visibly analyzing for any sort of body language that could tip him off.

“Fight.” Kagome attempted to say, though her voice came out incredibly raspy and broken.

“Like I’d be worried about what a girl as small as you could possibly do to me. Unless,” He cocked a brow. “I’d have a reason to worry. Unless, you’re a conjurer.”

She shook her head, scared to look away from him, hyperaware of any movement she made in that moment. She was absolutely terrified of letting him know she was lying, but what if her stiffness was what told him the truth? What if the vehemence behind her objection was exactly what he needed to convict her? Where was the happy medium? Was there one? Kagome’s bottom lip quivered, resisting the impulse to glance Miroku’s way when he continuously coughed, the sound slightly gurgled, scared the shift in her eyes would be mistaken for something else.

“How else would you know who Kikyo is?”

“I - I h-heard of her in p-passing.” Kagome said, still unable to use her voice, and she wondered if the strangulation was enough to damage her vocal cords or if her anxiety was the cause of it. “I-In a nearby town. By - by the r-river.”

The demon yanked her forward and slammed her back against the wall, the back of her head smacking the wood painfully. “Are you a fucking conjurer, wench!?”

“No!” Kagome wheezed, releasing her own hold on his fist to emphatically present the blunt cut on her palm to him before she repeatedly smacked it against his forearm, smearing hers and the little girl’s blood, showing him the exact reaction - or lack thereof - they were looking for in coming today in the first place.

“Let - let her go.” Miroku was on his knees, breathing impaired, holding his side with one hand while the other braced his weight in the mud. “She’s not a conjurer. She’s not. She can hardly even hunt. I have to take her everywhere. There’s no way anyone that knows her would believe she’s one of them.”

“Being a conjurer doesn’t have anything to do with hunting, boy!” One of them spit.

“Well, how the hell would anyone know!?” Sango shouted from the side, still seated on her knees beside the child. Her cheeks were flushed furiously, and her hands were held out inches from her chest, palms up, covered in blood that she was afraid would never wash off. Their attempts were in vain and the mother wept, clinging to her little girl, her face buried in her daughter’s still chest. “Conjurers are practically going extinct; you’re all winning! We don’t know what they can do! They probably don’t know what they can do! Conjurers either have to hide to save their lives, or they don’t even know they are one yet!”

For a brief second, Kagome allowed herself to glance beyond Sango’s head, finding her family. Her mother’s hands were cupped in front of her mouth, trembling as she never removed her eyes from her daughter. Her brow was creased deeply, concern etched so thick you’d think an artist may have been too heavy with their pen. Kagome couldn’t tell if her mom was breathing slowly, or if she was holding her breath. She couldn’t tell if her mom was saying a silent prayer, or if words could barely form in her mind as she had no choice but to watch the scene unfold. Her mother had to witness a daughter torn away from another; a daughter who held the same, supernatural fate as her own. Kagome could only imagine the stress that currently laced her mom’s system.

Before her stood both her brother and Sango’s, Sota bearing a wide expression, neck tense and lips parted uncertainly, and Kohaku wearing a more cautious grimace, watching apprehensively. Knowing her onlookers were nervous, worried, should have been the very thing to cause Kagome to proceed carefully, but instead it served as the switch that flicked on in her head. She was tired of living like this, done with the dreadful thought that this was their normal. This wasn’t going to continue.

She’d been waiting for a sign, waiting for her cue. Bags were packed and weapons were stored in a hiding place where they’d been training outside of the village. Miroku, Sango, and she had discussed a while ago that they were going to eventually leave together and find the called-upon conjurers, and join Kikyo to fight against Naraku. It was their - the conjurers’ - responsibility. As much as she wanted to know why, pleaded with the apparition of this seemingly all-powerful conjurer time and time again for an answer, at this point it was no longer deemed necessary. Not anymore. Kagome figured she’d hear this magical invitation telling her when and where - which was farfetched but a fair assumption given she barely had anything to go off of. She even thought she might have to wait a while longer until she was stronger, more trained in her capabilities, before Kikyo gave her some form of clear signal instead of these ominous, detail-lacking prophecies in her subconscience that she was currently getting every other night. But now a tick in her core, an itch in her chest, a steady deepening in her resolve told her the time was now. Screw waiting, screw messages, screw rolling over, screw self-pity, and screw Naraku. If he wanted a fight, if this was his initiation all along, his declaration of war, then he was finally going to get one.

“If that’s the case, bitch, then what were you telling the girl?” The demon holding her collar jerked her slightly to demand her attention, receiving it with vexation.

“I,” Kagome took as stable a breath as she could, her throat aching and voice pathetically weak, clearly evident now that it was due to the ruthless strangling she’d received. “I told her Kikyo would kill Naraku.”

“And, why the fuck would you say that?” He asked, almost surprised at her bold statement.

“I wanted her to go with hope, not fear.”

He guffawed, his chest pumping. “You don’t actually believe that!”

Without hesitation, as straight as she could manage while she halted his laughter, Kagome replied, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

His smile faded quickly, humor replaced with anger as his fists bunched tighter and he heatedly pulled Kagome away from the wall and threw her to the floor. Kagome landed on her front, quickly pressing herself to her hands and knees just before he pushed her belly down, her wrists sliding and giving out so the side of her face planted in the mud.

“Kagome -“ Her cousin called, stumblingly crawling her way before another demon kicked him in the side he’d been clutching, a tiny crunch being heard just as Miroku choked in pain.

“Miroku, stop! I’m fine!” She attempted to say clearly, a foot braced on her back.

“Enough.” The leader stated. “Everyone back in line. We haven’t finished yet.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” A man asked disbelievingly. “You don’t think you’ve done enough damage already!? Get the fuck out!”

“Yeah, get out of here!” Other villagers began to call out, joining in. “You aren’t welcome here! You’re only taking advantage because our demon slayers are gone!”

“You think that matters?” The leader chuckled. “Go ahead. Revolt. Fight back. Make us leave. See how quickly your entire village will be wasted the next time around. You see four of us and think you stand a chance. You see a large group of us and think you’re safe because you’ve got a little pack of demon slayers protecting you. Funny, that’s never stopped our inspections before, so I don’t see why you think that’d stop us now. Either way, not a single one of you would be left alive if we brought a fraction of the wild demons under Naraku’s control, and he wouldn’t bat an eye if we borrowed them to kill you all. In fact, that’s already in the plan if we don’t check in. You kill us all, congratulations, but you’ll be worse off. Compared to him, we’re the most compassionate monsters you’ll ever meet, and I suggest you learn to appreciate that. Now, get your girls back in line.”

“It’s okay, papa.” An older girl spoke. Kagome couldn’t see from where she lay, but she recognized the seventeen year-old’s voice. Ayumi. She was soft-spoken normally, but also fairly brave and kind. The only child of a widowed father, and a girl, like the rest of them, forced to grow up too soon.

Ayumi walked forward, having backed away from the rowdiness with the majority of the girls who hadn’t run back to the safety of their parents. Notching her chin upward, she raised her left palm, “Let them finish. They won’t seem so big forever.”

“Bold girl.” The demon complimented.

“Yeah. The more I find myself hoping the conjurers win, the bolder I feel.”

“Careful, now. You’ll wind up getting yourself killed.”

“Looks like being female might just get me killed, anyway. So, I might as well go down confident that Naraku is the true evil here, and evil never wins.”

“What a disgusting cliche.” He groaned. “Grow a brain and come up with something original before you spew that sort of shit. It’s embarrassing. Look, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but as the chick over there stated, we already are. We’re winning. Now, I won’t argue that we’re the bad guys here, but at this point in time, that doesn’t really matter.”

Ayumi swallowed thickly, eyes faltering downward for the smallest moment before she rose them to meet the red eyes of Naraku’s henchman. As sickeningly as that notion sat in her esophagus, Ayumi felt it would be worse if she’d sunken her shoulders at the validity of their power. By no means was she strong, and by no means was she actually all that courageous. Ayumi, true to heart, was a daydreamer, was a fantasy-enthusiast, was a soft, sweet, and hopeful wisher, was tired, was passive. So, while she could admit her stare wasn’t striking, her irises would never be vivid with the passionate heroism she dreamed about, her lips would never curve with a compelling and threatening snarl, she could also admit that just the act of matching his gaze was all she needed to do to defy defeat. With chapped lips parting, not a waver traveling over her tongue, she spoke. “Yes, it does.”

“Yes, it does.” Another girl agreed, approaching to stand beside Ayumi.

“The world hasn’t always been this way. Naraku only grew large less than five years ago.” A woman said, a mother, holding her fearful daughter in her arms. Several more girls got back in line, their shoulders a little more broadened than before. “I find it appalling how arrogant you all have gotten in such a short time. I assure you, conjurer, demon, human, or anything in between, I’d give them my trust sooner than I’d yield to the idea of life staying like this. Good and evil, the difference will always matter. So, yes. Yes, it does.”

“Inspirational.” One of Naraku’s demons remarked sarcastically, cringing.

“Hey, whatever blows your skirt up, lady.” The leader shrugged. “You can believe whatever you want. No sweat off my back. Funny enough, I’d put down all the money in my pockets right now to bet not a single one of them would return that trust, nor would they risk their lives to save you. I mean, not to play devil’s advocate or anything, but look at the twisted circumstances. What the fuck have you done to help them? Human’s are selfish; only looking out for themselves. You hate us showing up because you don’t want us to hurt you. It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with us hunting down conjurers, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with that little girl on the ground over there. If it did, you would have never watched it happen. If it did and it was just the ‘shock factor’ holding you back, you still would have done a little more than yell at us about how unfair it was. Oh, cry me a fucking river.” He grinned, stepping over to the first girl in the newly-formed line. There were less than half left that hadn’t been tested, and he got straight to work, unforgivingly slashing at the pre-teen’s palm and slapping his own to hers as he continued his heartless speech. “Even better, there’s two of your own on the floor, both of them getting quite the beating, and not a single fucking one of you did a damn thing to help. I understand the lad; that’s his - er - sister? Cousin? And, I mean, at least the chick tried to help the conjurer survive. I’ll give them kudos, but I think I speak for all of us non-humans when I say fuck the rest of you egotistical pricks. Oh no, my child might have a scar on her hand. Oh no, more trauma.” The leader mocked, his tone high and whiney. “Yeah, well, at least they’re not dead in the mud like little Suzie over there.”

There was a collective gasp from the audience at the harsh and morbid insensitivity. Still, no one challenged him. Someone should have, and no one said a thing.

Kagome tasted bile on the back of her tongue from the disgusting sentiments plaguing the thick, electric air. How cruel. She wanted to open her mouth and beg him to stop and just finish his job already, force her broken voice out to demolish his train of thought and hope he doesn’t mention the death for the remainder of his stay. The only thing stopping her was Miroku’s steady stare on her. It held more power than an order from his mouth to stay quiet ever could. With a foot on her back as a warning for more damage, the impending threat that he would easily be hurt again, and the fact that she’d said enough as it was, no matter how bold she felt in the face of this evil, she knew she was meant to face the source. She could only do that alive. So, begrudgingly, she obliged to his logical demand.

If they wanted them to finish, they needed to stop fighting. They needed to shut up. A double-edged sword. Like bowing their heads to the abuse. Enabling it. Allowing it so it ends quicker.

Kagome could feel her palms burning in the mud, a sense of humiliating defeat flooding her chest, making her feel sick to her stomach. She kept her eyes on Miroku, he kept his eyes on her. She tried to raise the volume of her thoughts, no matter how negative they were, to tune out the gasps and muffled cries of the young girls as they received the cut to their palms for testing.

How could she hold any form of power, yet still feel so powerless? How could she have the privilege of a voice, but feel so irrevocably silenced? She wanted to believe she could save everyone there if she just untied the knots concealing her abilities, but it physically pained her to understand that it was the wrong thing to do. It would be counterintuitive. It would wind up getting them all killed later. She could fight, but she also couldn’t.

“And, there you have it.” The leader finished by wiping his knife clean and slipping it back into the little holster on his hip, the hint of pride and sarcasm on his tongue. “Thank you so much for your cooperation and understanding. We’ll be seeing you.”

The demon holding Kagome down applied a small kick of pressure as he lifted off of her, chuckling as his dirty boots stuck in the mud with each step away.

There was an eerie silence, one that grew more deafening as the henchmen took their horses and disappeared from the village. It was heavy, thick, like sludge. Weighted with failure and death. Even the cries from the mother were muted. For a moment, Kagome thought that instead of drowning out the pained noises with her own thoughts, her brain had responded late to her distress by completely disabling her sense of hearing instead. But, she could hear the stickiness of the mud as she peeled herself from the ground to sit on her knees. She could hear feet slowly walking - most likely children rejoining their families. She could hear the thunder threatening them of the next onslaught of rain to come. The silence that captivated them was one that couldn’t be lifted with a simple, “Thank god that’s over.” No one could make it dissipate by asking if everyone was okay. Because, it didn’t matter.

And, that was something everyone, even the young, could recognize.

The small talk that would eventually come when everyone was back in their homes, the whispers, the crying, and maybe even tiny chuckles from people trying to find the little joys to get them through this, they would all be irrelevant. Because, outside there would be a blanket of despair thicker than the friction-inducing clouds hanging over them at this very moment, and it promised them there that it would stick around as long as it needed to.

“Hey,” A soft voice spoke in Kagome’s ear, a gentle, cold hand brushing her arm, and it was only when she gasped and jerked upright that she realized she’d been hanging her head, sights stuck on her hands on her thighs. “Sh, sh. It’s just me.” Her mother reassured, kneeling beside her and using her sleeve to try and wipe her face clean of some clumpy mud. “Are you alright, honey?”

Out of sheer reaction, she gave a meager nod.

“Look at me, Kagome. Look at me. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” Kagome said as convincingly as possible. When Miroku groaned, catching her mother’s attention and even her own, she was happy to have the focus off of her. Kohaku and Sango were beside him, trying to sit him up, freezing as he struggled.

“Come on, boy. Let’s get you home.” A couple, larger village men came over, better suited to help. One of them firmly clasped his hand in Miroku’s, quickly pulling him up to his feet so the pain wouldn’t be dragged out. Her cousin hissed at the shock, clenching his throat to try and swallow his grumble, and the two men supported him by pulling his arms over their shoulders.

“Can you stand?” Kagome’s mother asked.

“Yeah.” She whispered, not wanting to irritate her throat further and finding no real need to speak up right now. “I’m fine, mama. Don’t worry about me. Miroku needs your attention more.”

“Even if that were true, he’s kind of surrounded. I don’t think I’m needed there, love.” She replied, grabbing her by her elbow to support her as they stood together. “Sota, take her other side, please. Just in case.”

“Wait.” A broken voice called to them, trembling but by no means weak.

They all stopped just two steps in, looking over to the mother on the ground. Her daughter’s body, from head to toe, was covered by a long cloak belonging to one of the villagers beside her now, attempting to give comfort.

“Kikyo? Is that what you’d said? Kikyo?” She asked Kagome.

As clearly as she could, with a little nod of her head as she processed the question, Kagome said, “Yes.”

“Who is that?”

Kagome could feel the tension in her brow falter as the sympathetic, concerned curve in them wilted away to change more into dubiousness. “You - you don’t…” She didn’t know who Kikyo was. Even her own mother knew who Kikyo was. Her mom was the first to hear about her dreams before she started discussing them with the rest of her family. Had her daughter not had the same messages coming to her? Or, was she so confused, so distraught from them all, that she chose secrecy over being seen as insane?

“She’s a conjurer.” Kagome answered.

“Is she - is she a strong conjurer?”

“I think so.”

“I’m sorry, did your daughter never mention anything about Kikyo?” Sango carefully asked.

“N-no. Why would she?”

“We were just under the impression that she may have been sending survivors telepathic signals of sorts.” She said.

“That’s preposterous.” A man scoffed.

“Maybe. We heard it in passing. From an old man, no less.” Miroku said, discomfort laced in his tone.

“What - what could she possibly have had to say to a little girl?” The mother asked, her bottom lip quivering while her hand rested on her daughter’s chest.

“I’m sorry. I wish I knew.” The words were painful to speak. Not from her throat, but from the fact that she had to lie to a woman who’d had her everything stolen from her. A woman who, more than anyone, deserved the truth.

When she’d said what she’d said about Kikyo before, the little girl had muttered something in return before the demon tore Kagome away. It seemed like she was about to ask who Kikyo was. Kagome was sure now that the kid didn’t know. She hadn’t had the dreams, the premonitions, the one-sided conversations, nothing. She hadn’t had any communication with Kikyo, whatsoever. Maybe Kikyo was kind to exclude the young, and only spoke to the older, potentially more conditioned conjurers.

Or, maybe there was a possibility that Kagome was the only one.

And, it terrified her.

“Will she win? Kikyo? Will she defeat Naraku?” The crying mother asked.

Kagome was finding it hard to reply, to communicate. Her throat was tightening up as she watched the woman’s body begin to crumble once more toward her little girl’s; like she needed to be connected with her to prevent her from going cold. She could feel her eyes stinging, tears brimming, her fingers quaking and legs growing weak. Her cheeks felt hot and her chest wouldn’t allow a full breath of air - only unsteady, unmatched, quick puffs that burned. A hot hand slid into her right, her brother’s fingers tightening their grip, but she couldn’t control her body enough to grab it back.

“I refuse to believe otherwise.” Sango answered confidently.

The mother now sobbed, nodding in acknowledgment as she weeped over the covered body of her daughter. “Thank you.”

Kagome wanted to apologize profusely. For failing to protect her. For failing to try to protect her. For her loss. For the chance she was never given to learn to defend herself. For the silence she had to keep. The guilt was so heavy on her shoulders, she was ready to give in in front of them all, but the hand in hers pulled her back, made her move.

More villagers were moving toward the mother and child to help comfort while they removed the body, and that was the prime opportunity to get Kagome out of there. Sota could tell from the moment it started that she was going to break down, maybe even panic. He knew his sister, he knew the signs, he understood the stress she was under, and he wanted nothing more than to get her away and help her as best as he could. So, he disregarded everyone else and began pulling Kagome ahead. Miroku would have to move at a slower pace, Sango and Kohaku would stick by him and the men that helped, and he figured their mom would respect that they needed a moment of peace where they weren’t under more eyes than necessary.

Sota ignored the broken utterances of his name that came from his sister, he ignored the threatening weather, and he ignored anything that could potentially get in his way. He directed Kagome around their house, to the back, and toward the tree line of the woods. Three trees in past the shrubbery bush, on the opposite side of the trunk, Sota found the rope ladder to the treehouse their dad had built them hanging. Holding it steady, he released Kagome’s hand.

“Come on. Climb.”

-> | next chapter |

[imherongraystairstrash]

I don’t think this is along the line of your usual fics, at least I’ve only seen you post one thing in the TDA series, but would you be willing to write Kit and Kieran bonding after Kieran finds out that they’re related? Because I just feel like Kieran would be happy to have a family member that he actually likes, and isn’t a horrible person.

Yes! Kieran would be so happy to have a family member that doesn’t treat him horribly! I also want to apologize for posting this monster of a fic. I just had too much fun writing this! Kit’s POV is something I didn’t know I needed to write until now. ALSO, it broke my heart to write some of this so... You’re welcome. 

Characters: Kit & Kieran bonding times (platonicccc I don’t want anyone thinking this is anything other than platonic because, ew)

Notes: This is a couple of days before Kit goes to live with Jem and Tessa :)

...

Kit had been staring out into the distance for so long, time seems to have lost it’s essence. He kept telling himself to stop standing there and go back inside. Perhaps he should do some packing, since Jem Carstairs and Tessa Gray were going to come in a couple of days and take him to Devon. But all Kit had done this evening was this; looking out at LA and wondering how his life had changed so drastically in the span of a couple of months.

He had the balcony door open and turned to find Kieran standing there.

“Is it alright if I stay here?”

Kit simply nodded at him and then turned back to the view. It was a really nice view. Nothing like the one he had in his old house.  

Kieran rested his forearms on the railing and looked out at the city, just as Kit was doing. 

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Kieran asked. 

“Nope, go ahead.” 

“When you look out at this view,” Kieran said, “do you see what you would consider to be ‘home’?”

Kit shrugged. “I’ve never seen LA from here before, so it doesn’t really look like home. Except for that street over there; I used to pass it when I was going to school in the morning.”

Kieran squinted, trying to identify the street. He didn’t know why, but Kit sort of liked that he was actually putting in the effort to find the street he was talking about. Most people would shrug it off or nod and smile a fake smile, just so that they could end the small talk. It sort of felt like Kieran actually cared about what Kit said. 

“Is it the one that goes along that building with red lights?”

“Uhh,” Kit looked at the expanse of red lights, none of which were near the street he had been talking about. “Not really. It’s the one that has that stop sign at the end of it.”

“I’m afraid I do not have knowledge of what a ‘stop sign’ is or what it may look like.”

Kit’s eyes widened and he bit back the urge to say “wow”. How old was this guy? How secluded was Faerie? He didn’t ask those questions though, because they seemed rude. 

“It’s okay, Kieran. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to keep looking for it. I mean, it’s pretty small.”

“No, I want to find this path you had taken to your school in the past. It feels important.”

“Oh okay. Umm,” Kit looked at the street. “Oh, do you see that green car over there?”

“Hm. Oh yes! I do see it!”

“Okay, to the right of that road, is the street I was talking about.”

“Is there a woman and a man professing their love to one another, for all to see, on the lighter road, beside that bigger, darker road?”

Kit blinked. And then he understood. “Oh, you mean that couple making out on the sidewalk? Yeah, that’s the one.”

Kieran smiled, clearly proud he’d found the street. Kit smiled too, because it had been a little fun. Then his mind drifted and he thought about how Kieran was supposedly related to him. That was really weird. He also looked nothing like Kieran; but maybe that was because they weren’t that related.

“Hey, Kieran?”

“Yes?”

“How are we related again? Are we like cousins or something?”

“I think your great-great grandmother was my half sister?”

“Oh.” Kit said. “Well, I still don’t know what to call you. Are you like my great-great-great uncle, then?”

Kieran looked pensive. “Perhaps?”

“Cool.” 

“I was thinking it was a bit hot, actually.”

Kit felt his jaw drop. What the hell?

“What?”

Kieran looked at him surprised. “You said you were cold, but I think it’s rather warm outside. Hot, even.”

Kit released a breath in relief. “Oh, oh okay. Thank God.” 

“For what?”

“Oh, nothing.”

They looked out at the landscape in front of them. Kit was going to just let the silence hang, when he suddenly felt bad for his Triple-G Uncle (yes, he thought, that’s what I should call him). 

“Oh, Kieran?”

“Yes?” 

“When someone says ‘cool’ they usually mean, like…‘nice’.” 

Kieran looked at him and tilted his head to the side. “I don’t believe I follow…”

“It’s like… uh… you see, i—it’s hard to explain. Let me think.” Kit furrowed his eyebrows trying to figure out how to explain. “Well, it’s like saying ‘awesome’ or ‘great’, you know?”

Kieran pressed his lips together. “Oh. That makes a little bit of sense.”

“Oh, really? Cool! I thought what I just said just confused you even more.” 

“No, no. I think I understand now, especially after you used it in a sentence.”

“Huh. And you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

Kieran eyed him. “Even if I wanted to, I cannot lie. I’m Fae.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kit bit his lip. “I forget that sometimes.”

Kieran snorted. “I don’t.”

Kit pressed his lips together. He wanted to know more about his ancestors, and now was as good a time to ask. And when would he get a better opportunity to learn? Here was Kieran, who was raised in the Unseelie Court. Just ask, Kit, he thought. Just ask the stupid question already, before you leave and won’t ever be able to know. Just do it. 

Kit almost laughed because that reminded him of a vine he had first seen in second period math. Then, he shuddered because ugh, second period math. That class was torture unlike any he had ever endured. 

Anyways, what had he been thinking about? Oh yes; he had to ask Kieran his question.

“Christopher?”

Darn it. Just when he was going to ask his question. “Yeah?”

“I do not recall ever having a family member that has never tried to kill me or was cruel, save my brother, Adaon.”

“Oh,” Kit said, eyes wide as he shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “That’s um—that sucks, Kieran. I—I’m sorry?”

“Why do you apologize?”

Kit frowned, “I don’t know. That’s the sort of thing people say.”

Kieran hummed. “You mortals apologize too much.”

Kit didn’t have anything to say, other than ‘sorry’ which would be kinda dumb, considering what Kieran just said. So, he opted for silence.

“As I was saying,” Kieran continued. “I do not think I have had a good relationship with family members for a long time, so I hope you can forgive me if I do not keep good company; I don’t interact well with others because of my upbringing.”

“Oh.” Kit bit his lip, absentmindedly. What does this mean? 

As if reading his mind, Kieran added quickly. “I just thought that perhaps we could try to be each other's family?”

“Nobody’s ever wanted me to be their family member before.” Kit mumbled. 

“I can say the same for myself.” Kieran said. “I thought maybe we could talk and introduce ourselves better. I know family isn’t just blood but—”

“I’d like that.” Kit interrupted, without meaning to. “Get to know each other, I mean.” 

Kieran looked surprised. “You would?”

“Yeah. I mean, you seem pretty dope—I mean, interesting.” 

Kieran smiled. “You, too, seem ‘dope’”

Kit laughed at that. Maybe it would be fun to teach Kieran modern slang. 

“Okay, first things first though, nobody really calls me Christopher, unless I royally messed up. You can call me Kit, instead.”

And so they talked to one another. Nothing too deep. It was the type of conversation that has no real subject to it, and because of that, it was enjoyable. Kit got to ask his question about Faerie and Kieran asked him questions about the mundane world. Kit even showed him the Katy Perry left shark meme. Kieran’s face when Kit told him that there were people inside those costumes could have also been a meme. 

Kit did not know where life would take him. He supposed that living with Jem and Tessa couldn’t be too bad. Who knew? Maybe they won’t ignore him as his dad had. Then again, isn’t that what parents normally do with their children? Just pretend like they don’t exist, except for times when it’s convenient for them? 

It didn’t really matter, not right now. At least Kieran felt Kit was worth his time, and maybe, just maybe, he could have the relative he never had.

Yes, that would be nice.

...

Tagging some lovely people: @celias @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @hitheresomeoneusingthus @rinadragomir @youngreckless @aceofjesper @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @forjordelia @itsdaughterofthemoon 

If you want to be tagged in future fics, notify me! If you asked to be tagged and I didn’t tag you in this post, please remind me (my brain cells are gone at this point)

[readerinsertfanfiction]

The Bae’st of All

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Kyubae the bae’st bae of all aka Kyubei

Prompt: Seeing how Kyubei is named after an alias that the real Mitsuhide Akechi used (Juubei) the chances of fans getting a Kyubei route from Cybird are slim. However, it is simply impossible not to fall for this man. He is too good. So here have my attempt at writing a route.

The key of the previous chapter was (Romantic/Dramatic):

+4/+4

+4/+2

+4/+2

A/N: Vote DRAMATIC or ROMANTIC to determine which ending I’m going to write first. 

Chapters:

1.1| 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 5.1 | 5.2 | 6.1 | 6.2 | 7.1 | 7.2 | 8.1 | 8.2

Avatar Challenge 1| 3.1 Gacha POV | 1st Letter | 5.2 Gacha | Avatar Challenge 2 | 2nd Letter

“Back again, young miss?”

The marketman is much too eager when he spots me out from the crowd, hands wringing together as he eyes Hideyoshi next to me.

“I see you are in different company.”

Not liking the tone of that I’m about to explain when Hideyoshi steps in front of me, his expression like stone when he eyes the man behind the stand.

“I’m her brother, if you will and I don’t like that suggestive tone.”

I feel myself sweatdrop at this exclamation wondering if this is how Hideyoshi sees the rest of his female friends as well. He treated them all the same, just like me, but never expressed any interest.

“No, no, I wouldn’t dare. I was merely noting that the miss was with another man the other day, handsome lad I must say. Looks very dependable.”

Sweating himself out of that hole the marketman raises his hands towards Hideyoshi, his smile faltering as he turns towards me once more, his hand gesturing towards the timepieces on his table once more.

“It seems that the miss is from a fine line, however. With such a brother and that eye! Do you care to explore my humble stand some more?”

Hideyoshi gives me a blank look when I try to sneak a glance at him, wondering what his reaction will be. He remains stern, however, eyeing the man up close as he reaches out to one of the goods first.

“These are western goods, not?”

Opening one of the timepieces I gaze down the archaic design again from which our modern watches descent from.

“Let’s go, Hideyoshi. The sun is nearly down.”

Before the salesman can pitch his pretty talk again I quickly interrupt, tugging at Hideyoshi’s sleeve as I scuffle away from the stand. We still hadn’t finished our errand yet and the constant eyeing from the man was making me suspicious. Exhaling Hideyoshi agrees with me as he puts the item down, though I can tell from his eyes that he is still thinking about it, his brown eyes still set in contemplation and longing.  

“But maybe we can pick one for Nobunaga?”

My careful suggestion is immediately met with a bright smile and an eager nod as Hideyoshi eyes down the complete table, picking up an item occasionally as he checks out its little design and asks for my opinion.

(I better be careful with how much I pretend to know. This marketman seems to have it out for me.)

Back facing me Hideyoshi is still excitedly picking out a suitable timepiece for Nobunaga while I wait in the back, my eyes falling once more over at the salesman who has made his advance towards me.

“Can I help you?”

I purposefully raise my voice in the crowd, hoping that it will catch attention but a firm hand wrapped around my arm is already dragging me into the crowd as I watch Hideyoshi’s figure disappear.

“Hey! Stop!”

Raising my voice I fight against my captor as I struggle against the firm hold on my arm and the pace in which I’m pulled at. When I finally manage to free myself I’m slammed painfully into a wall as I come eye to eye with a pair of raging reds.

“Ya better shut up fast. I’m not afraid of rising hell in the streets.”

The firm warning leaves no room for doubt from my side as I stare at the white haired man, wild and unhinged with a wicked smile to come.

“What do you want from me?”

I try to maintain my composure as I face him, sounding out my question as my captor rolls his eyes at me, seemingly annoyed already by his catch. Though, I don’t think he is the type to let me go for being too annoying.

“Word travels fast about the new princess the Oda has. What else?”

His words make my heart sink as I wonder how many more times I’m to be a tool because Nobunaga makes enemies left and right. A kidnapping, really? I miserably wonder to myself which trope I’m subjected to next as I’m pulled away once more.

(The day is coming to an end fast. I wonder if Hideyoshi noticed me already?)

I’m stuck in a cave, my arms wrapped around my knees while Motonari (my captor) is making a fire.

(It is no use running. He has caught me three times already.)

I wallow to myself at all of my failed attempts and the patience that is obviously running thin with the pirate warlord that is holding me captive now.

“What are you planning to do with me?”

I suddenly voice out this curiosity as Motonari pokes the fire he has created, agitating it to grow. His face is firm and set but when he looks up at me he smiles that wicked smile once more, a crazy glint glossing over the man that had so attentively built the fire.

“What do ya think? The Oda values ya, even someone with gunpowder for brains knows what that means.”

He speaks so crudely, but I can still tell through that slang that he is from noble birth, articulate and eloquent. I wonder what has made him discard it all, what has made him decide to lower himself to this rank when he had it all.

“They don’t value me. I just got lucky.”

But dissuading Motonari was no easy task I found. The man was much sharper than his speech let on and his actions, though feral were much more calculated. He wasn’t about to reveal anything that he wasn’t willing to reveal.

“You tell me where you got your knowledge from.”

The change in tone and shift in language doesn’t escape me as Motonari eyes me dangerously from the other side of the cave, the fire between us giving him a near demonic glow. I suck in a breath as I wonder if he had been around when Kyubei and I last visited that market, or if someone had told him instead.

(Was this perhaps why Kyubei seemed in a hurry that day?)

Knowing that I’m not about to get this knowledge out of Motonari I press my lips firmly against each other, my mind wracking over spurning a plausible story when a shadow moves in from the corner of my eyes.

“Ye late.”

Motonari’s response is simple as he falls back in the sealord’s language he has adopted as his guise and I turn my head to face who his friend is.

Tall like a mountain, broad like the reach of the sun, but dark like the colours of the night and the depth of the sea on a skin resembling moonlight. There he stood, the man I had missed most.

“Kyubei?”

(What’s going on?)

**Gasps in Sengoku**

His name escapes me so easily, but the usual warm and reassuring smile from the man is gone as Kyubei ignores me, instead facing Motonari as he goes down on his knees.

“I had to lay low for a while. Security has tightened up around this area.”

Motonari narrows his eyes at the vassal, clearly not believing the man, but choosing to keep quiet nonetheless as he shrugs his shoulders, his chin pointing towards me.

“Aren’t ya glad to see her back? Heard ya are fond of her.”

Kyubei doesn’t react to the taunt Motonari throws at him as he remains kneeling. A scoff escapes the other as he pokes the fire between us some more, this time to put out the flames.

“Ya better not think of running. Tomorrow will be another long day and I promise I will break her legs this time.”

The words leave a chill in me as the heat of the fire slowly fades away, leaving me in the dark as the shapes of the men shift, readying themselves for the night.

[aer-in-wanderland]

hello! i see you're often dissatisfied with the official translations for tale of the nine tailed. i also always want to know exactly what the characters are saying and it saddens me to see changes in the translations. are there any translations of lee yeon/nam ji ah dialogue that you thought were particularly inaccurate? how would you render them?

Hello! I’m afraid you may have opened Pandora’s box with this one haha

First off, most (if not all) of the subs you’re seeing going around aren’t official translations but rather fansubs. Because fansubs go up as fast as possible there’s no time for review or editing, and this often means they leave a lot to be desired. As someone who has done a good amount of professional translation, I tend to put a lot of thought into ensuring that not only the content, but also the context and tone of my translations are accurate. It’s an art, not a science. 

To answer your question, though, there are a few Yeon/Ji Ah interactions I can think of where the subs particularly bugged me.

The first is from EP05, when Ji Ah presses Yeon to tell her how Ah Eum died. 

Yeon tells her, ‘It has nothing to do with you’ (or even more neutrally, ‘it’s unrelated to you’ but that’s an uncommon phrasing in English). The sub here was, ‘It’s none of your business,’ which is another way you could translate that, but it’s both less literal and also more callous than I felt Yeon was being here. 

In response, Ji Ah insists she knows it does (have something to do with her). Yeon’s response was subbed, ‘At times, it’s better to be in the dark. So live your life as the clueless person you have been.’ This is taking a lot of license and not in a good way. I would have translated Yeon’s response as follows:

Yeon: At times...there are times when knowing something becomes poison. Please just keep living as you are now, not knowing.  

First off, to my thinking there’s a big difference between ‘being in the dark’ and ‘knowledge can be poison,’ which is actually what he says. Second, he says absolutely nothing to the effect of ‘clueless person.’ He does literally say ‘not knowing anything,’ but I would have left out the ‘anything’ because it changes the tone of the sentence. It’s technically correct from a one-to-one translation standpoint, but ultimately wrong in terms of communicating what he means and how he means it. Finally, while he doesn’t literally say ‘please,’ what he does say (‘살아주라’) is the imperative form of the verb (to live) + ‘ju-da’ grammar pattern, which holds the implication that she is doing it for his sake. 

The sub here really bugged me because it made it sound like Yeon was condescending to Ji Ah, saying that she should just keep on being ignorant, when in fact he was asking her very plaintively to trust him and accept not knowing. Overall, I thought it misrepresented his character in an unflattering light so it stuck with me. 

Another example of a sub that bothered me is from EP12, when Ji Ah’s parents ask Yeon what he likes about Ji Ah and Yeon tells them being with her comforts him (paraphrasing). The translation of Ji Ah’s line that followed that was a bit problematic for me. The sub here read, ‘But Yeon made me realize...that we’re supposed to live in the shadows...of the people we rely on. I wanted to be that kind of person too.’ I would have translated this as:

Ji Ah: But I met Lee Yeon and came to understand: people live their lives in the shadow of someone they can depend upon. I have to become that type of person too.

You can see there’s not too much difference (other than the ‘supposed to’ and the ‘wanted to’ - not sure where they got that) and that’s because the main issue here is actually cultural. In English, if we say you’re living in someone’s shadow it’s a negative thing, but Ji Ah is actually making a reference to traditional Korean wedding vows, in which the groom pledged to become a tree and the bride his shadow. That’s obviously a carry-over from a more antiquated time in gender relations, but the image of the tree remains that of something that provides shelter from the elements. So, to live in someone’s shadow in this case actually means to live being protected and cared for by them. This is in direct contrast to her telling Yeon in EP06 not to be too good to her for fear that she’d come to depend on him. It shows character growth. And Ji Ah is saying that she also wants to be that someone for Yeon. 

Since there’s no way to explain that context in the subs, though, I might have taken some creative license and changed ‘shadow’ to ‘shelter’ or something to that effect. It would be more of a departure from the literal, but somewhat closer to the intended meaning. 

Another exchange that I felt could have been translated better was from the night scene on the beach in EP13 when Ji Ah asks Yeon if he remembers the first time he met her. 

Yeon: Of course I remember. I spent my life working to catch others, but you were the first person who chased after me so ferociously saying they were going to catch me. 

Ji Ah: At that time I should have just confessed ferociously. If I had, the time we could have spent being happy not knowing anything would've been just a little bit longer. 

I don’t remember exactly what the sub said, only that it left out the word ‘ferocious,’ which they both used. I thought it was a very Ji Ah thing to say - that she should have confessed ferociously instead of chasing him ferociously, and you can see Yeon look at her when she says it.  

Another thing that dropped out at times was the humour. One recurring joke they use plays off the word for ‘bastard,’ which translates literally as ‘baby dog’ or ‘child of a dog’ (kae-saekki). Putting ‘kae’ (dog) in front of anything turns it into a curse word actually. [Edit: It’s also used as an intensifier in modern slang similar to how the f-word is used in English]. As you might imagine, this gets a lot of mileage in relation to Rang, our resident 600-year old baby fox. So in EP03 when Yeon and Rang fight on the island, Yeon makes this joke:

Yeon: They say you’re supposed to raise wild children* with a firm hand (literally: hit them as you raise them), but I couldn’t do that, so I ended up raising a baby fox into a bastard (baby dog), didn’t I?

Rang: And who was the jerk who kicked that baby (saekki) to the curb? You treat me like a stray dog any chance you get. 

Yeon: My little brother, I’ll have to gift you a muzzle this Christmas. 

Because the dog jokes dropped out ‘muzzle’ became ‘mouthguard,’ which is less funny and also makes no sense out of context. [*Edit: Also, thinking about it again, I still would have used ‘muzzle’ since that implies that Yeon means to protect the world from Rang whereas ‘mouthguard’ is more about protecting Rang.]

[*Edit: the word used here is 호로자식, which many Koreans understand to mean something like a barbarian child, but the true origin, as it turns out, is a parentless child. It’s also used predominantly by grandpas/old men hehe]

Another funny moment came when Ji Ah asks Yeon for his phone number in EP04:

Yeon: Nice. Your character is very consistent. 

Ji Ah: I get that a lot.

There’s no good way to translate Ji Ah’s line, but she literally says ‘I hear that curse (yok) a lot,’ implying that people say this to her and mean it as an insult/in a ‘goddamn you’ sort of way...to which Yeon nods as if to say, ‘makes perfect sense.’ haha

Finally, there were times when the subs were just straight-up wrong. When Yeon is telling Ji Ah about how he met Ah Eum in EP05, he says she was so cute he hit her once and then sent her on her way. Ji Ah prompts him saying, ‘And then?’ To which Yeon responds that she went down the mountain in tears but then returned to chase after him with her bow in tow. The subtitle said something like ‘she left and returned within the day,’ and I honestly can only assume whoever was translating it wasn’t sure what was said and just wrote something likely based on context because it’s such a loose estimation.

Sorry this is so long. It’s nowhere near an exhaustive list, but hopefully it gives you an idea of some of the things that catch my attention when I watch the subbed version. If there are specific scenes you’d like to see me translate, feel free to send me another ask. =)

[ourimpavidheroine]

I got two different Asks about my headcanons for Wu and one of them was from like a week and a half ago, sorry about that, Anon! It’s been A Week. I’ll just answer this way, it’s easier than trying to cobble together two separate asks.

In any case, yes, I can give a sort of quick and dirty reference to Wu as I’ve written him in my fanfic. I don’t generally like doing this kind of thing but I get that people don’t want to dive in without at least a little bit of a clue as to how I see him. But I want to note that my first fic, Please Excuse My Penmanship, was written right after the show’s final episode in December of 2014 (I sat on it for two months before publishing it) and because of that it is not comic-compliant nor does it reference any sort of Word of God things that Bryke said after the show ended/on the DVD commentary.

I’ve been writing this utter behemoth of collected fics for over five years now and have done so.much.research. (Some of the history from Imperial China, for example, was so juicy that I wholeheartedly stole it and worked it into my fic.) My fic has fluff, it has angst, it has found family, it has slowly revealed backstory, it has politics, queer characters, neurodiverse characters, disabled characters, oh and a good half of it is focused on the Beifong family, so there’s them, too.

What my fic isn’t, however, is a crackship. I take it seriously; probably too seriously for someone who just wants a quick fun read on their phone between classes. So that’s good to know before diving in. 

Also, much of it is written in first person via Wu’s diaries. Some of you will probably just scroll right past this entire post now because of that but I’ll say this much: I’ve gotten, over the years, a great deal of comments from people telling me they normally loathe first person but loved Wu’s. So. It’s probably worth a try. In my not so humble author’s opinion.

With all that said - here he is!

Wu was born in the autumn of 156 (making him 4 years younger than Mako). His paternal grandfather was King Kuei’s son by his queen (making him a full-blood younger brother to Wu’s great-aunt). His paternal grandmother was a kitchen maid who was given consort status after her son was born. Both of Wu’s grandparents died before he was born. Wu’s father was the only royal of his generation to make it to adulthood and he was assassinated when Wu was five years old. Wu saw very little of him and has very few memories of him. 

Wu’s mother was a very high-ranking nobleman’s daughter whose estate was near Gaoling. She had much older parents and was an only child. (Through her Wu is very distantly related to the Beifongs and also to the Northern Water Tribe’s royal family. The premise being here is that all of the nobility around the world is related if you go far back enough.) She dies two days after Wu is born. She was very, very wealthy (like Bezos level wealthy) and Queen Hou-Ting sees to it that all of that wealth is taken care of in trust for Wu and it is still his even after the fall of Ba Sing Se.

Wu is Hou-Ting’s only direct heir and is raised in the Palace at Ba Sing Se. He has an extremely strict childhood (he never leaves the Upper Ring and only very rarely leaves the palace itself) and while he is extremely well-educated has very little contact with the outside world, much as his great-grandfather Kuei did.

When Hou-Ting is assassinated by the Red Lotus Wu is fifteen; he is rushed out of Ba Sing Se to the safety of Republic City, where he is mostly left on his own and goes to utter and complete pieces. He goes through several bodyguards before he is assigned Mako; by that time he is sixteen, has cut of his traditional queue, only wears modern suits, spends money like water, and watches every single mover/reads every single cheap novel/listens to the radio non-stop - which is where he learns all of that slang. He has zero social skills that do not involve him ruling a nation (which he is terrified to do). His weirdass behavior during Season 4 of TLOK is explained by his not having the first clue as to how real people live and thinking that he can learn by watching movers and reading romance novels. (We all know how that goes for him.)

He is an extremely self-centered person but not a selfish one; he also has a terrific crush on Mako that he has absolutely no idea how to handle due to inexperience. 

NOTE: I have not written homophobia into my version of this universe and so there is no coming out angst for any of my characters, canon or OC. There are no coming out stories at all, in fact. Many of my characters (canon and OC) are queer and I am very matter of fact about it; gay marriage is legal, polyamory is legal (although not necessarily practiced everywhere), trans people openly exist and it is simply par for the course.

By the time Wu leaves for Ba Sing Se to dismantle the monarchy he is just about to turn nineteen; it will take him two years to put provincial governments in place with an entire cadre of advisors and abdicate. He dislikes Ba Sing Se and recognizes that if he stays he will be under constant pressure to rule in one form or another, so he relocates to Republic City for good. (Mako does have something to do with where he relocates, but Wu wasn’t planning on sticking around regardless.) Many, many people are unhappy with him dismantling the monarchy and there’s a lot of political stuff in my fic regarding the Royalists.

Wu and Mako do get married. Eventually they will have four children together and Wu will have another spouse. (This is common among nobility in the former Earth Kingdom and is expected; it is not illegal in Republic City but isn’t the norm among the natives.) He buys Toph Beifong’s old mansion from Lin (her parents built it for Toph when she was pregnant with Lin but it has been sitting empty since Toph left Republic City) and remodels it and that’s where they live.

In my fic Wu has very curly hair that he pomades within an inch of its life (I’ve been loving all the fanart going around now where his hair curls!!) and he whines about it a lot. He is a very finicky eater and never really gets over bossing people around. He does a lot of charity work and is on all of The Best Committees. He’s an extrovert who loves parties and hosts a lot of them. He has ADHD and suffers from PTSD and writes and publishes very popular romance novels under a penname for several years before his family finds out about it. He will make an effort to cut the slang out of his speech and will eventually go back to sounding like a very well educated royal. He gets real pissy if people refer to him as “your Majesty” instead of “Your Highness” since he abdicated. He has zero idea how money works (and never will) but is known to bribe the fuck out of people to get what he wants (something that will give his husband gray hair). He does not hold himself accountable to anyone or anything and that will never really change for him. He mostly gets away with it because he does have a lot of charm for a dude who believes that he’s above everyone else.

He is a fairly unreliable narrator, bless his skinny little ass.

His best friend is Huan Beifong, and you’ll just have to read the fic to find out about that.

My pissy Wu can best be summed up by this gif of Prince:

[dancingkirby]

In which Azula learns to not judge a book by its cover

WARNING: Discussion of past rape.

To the surprise of both his parents, rather than moving back to the palace full-time after graduating from Capital University three years ago, Kazuo had elected to rent his own apartment in the Caldera.  A “bachelor’s pad,” Azula was pretty sure it was called in modern slang. Kazuo had said that this was because he’d wanted to take a stab at independent living, but Azula suspected that the real reason was so he could have a place to entertain various lady friends in private.  Azula didn’t care to think about that too much, and decided that as long as her son was diligently using protection and keeping everything consensual, she would keep quiet on the subject.  Besides, he wasn’t so caught up in his liaisons that he was neglecting his duties as a member of the Royal Family.  He showed up for every required event, and had inherited Azula’s knack for public appearances.

Last year, Kazuo had gotten into his first serious romantic relationship, and had taken the young lady to meet Azula and Tom-Tom.  Azula had initially been excited about her son finally thinking about settling down, but the meeting had not exactly gone well.  Kazuo’s girlfriend, who was named Kumi, had completely defied royal protocol and run up to shake Azula’s hand, even having the audacity to address her by her given name without so much as a “Princess” before it!  The young lady had then spent the entire encounter bragging about her accomplishments so that neither Azula nor Tom-Tom could get a word in edgewise.  Azula had made her displeasure known by giving Kumi death glares at every opportunity, yet this did nothing to curtail the woman.  Tom-Tom, of course, had been as unerringly polite as he always was. However, when Kumi finally left, he admitted that even he hadn’t cared for her much.  Neither of them was surprised when it turned out that Kumi had been in it simply for the status.  

Azula had been relieved when that was over.  On the other hand, poor Kazuo was heartbroken.  Then, this spring, a devastating earthquake had hit Shuhon, destroying most of the island’s natural gas deposits and killing tens of thousands of people.  It was the worst natural disaster to hit a home island in living memory.  Her son volunteered to take an extended trip there to help with the rebuilding process once the air was deemed safe to breathe, and Azula had thought it was probably for the best.  She’d hoped that the hard work would take his mind off his anguish.

What she hadn’t anticipated was that within weeks, Kazuo would write home that he’d met a girl in Shuhon and was going out with her.  And now, six months later, he was bringing her home with him.

Tonight was the big night, of both their reunion with Kazuo and introduction to his girlfriend…and they were late.  At this rate, the food would get here before her son would.  Azula began to worry that Kazuo had crashed his…what was it called again? Satomobile, that’s right.  Some young upstart in Republic City had started manufacturing them a couple of years ago, and now everyone in the Caldera wanted one.  Everyone except Azula, that is.  Those vehicles went entirely too fast for her liking.  

Just as Tom-Tom was attempting to talk Azula out of sending servants to look for the pair, there was a knock on the door.  Azula bid the person to come in, and felt enormously relieved as her beaming son ran straight past the servant announcing his arrival and into his parents’ arms.  

“Mom!  Dad!  I missed you both so much!” Kazuo exclaimed.  “Sorry we’re late…traffic was horrible.”  When they broke from their embrace, Azula appraised him with her sternest maternal gaze.  

“You have been gone entirely too long.  Your skin is all brown; did it never occur to you to wear a hat?” she demanded.  But she couldn’t keep the act up for long. Within seconds, she had cracked a smile, hugging Kazuo again.  

Tom-Tom cleared his throat.  

“Son, I believe you said that you wanted to introduce us to someone?” he prompted.  Azula finally got a glimpse at the young woman hanging back in a doorway, who fell into a kowtow as soon as she saw that Azula was looking at her.  Well, that was one point in her favor already.  

“You may rise,” Azula told her.  When the girl stood and walked into the room, Azula finally looked her over properly. She was quite tall and a little gangling.  However, seeing as how Kazuo had attained a height of 6’3’’ (just like his grandfather), it didn’t look as awkward as it might have.  Although her face was nothing memorable, her hair was glossy and reached down to her mid-back.  She was attired in a pretty yet modest outfit of a pink tunic and a matching set of red jacket and pants.  

“Mother, Father, this is Lady Botan,” Kazuo said.  

The girl was shaking like a leaf, but managed to get out, “P-princess Azula.  Prince Tom-Tom.  It is an honor to meet you.”

“And it is a delight to meet you too, Lady Botan,” Tom-Tom assured her.  This, combined with Kazuo placing a protective hand on her shoulder, made Botan look slightly more relaxed.  

“Yes, well, dinner will be ready shortly,” Azula added.  Then, at another knock on the door, “I stand corrected.  Dinner is ready now.”

The four of them sat at the table as the servants arranged the first course.  Azula gazed intently at Botan over her bowl of wontons in clear broth.  She was perfectly aware of how intimidating her appearance could be to those who weren’t close to her.  Although she would be sixty next month, she could pull off her trademark eyeliner and bright red lipstick as well as ever.  Plus, as this girl’s potential mother-in-law, was it not expected of her to be overbearing?  Her standards were exacting; none but the best would do for her only son.  

“So,” she began, “How did you come to meet Prince Kazuo?”

Botan jumped a little in her seat at being so abruptly addressed, and began, “Shuhon is my home island, Princess.  My dad, my sister, my brothers, and I were all contributing in any way we could.  We were lucky that our house escaped the worst of the damages…but anyway.  The first day I arrived there from Capital Island, I was carrying some heavy crates of medical supplies.   They slipped, and I would have dropped them all if Kazuo hadn’t run up just then to help!  And then we started talking, and something just…clicked.  He said his name was Kazuo, and I was like, ‘Oh, like the prince?’ and he was like ‘Uh…yeah.’  He didn’t end up actually telling me who he was until after our fourth date! Can you believe that?”

She gave a very annoying high-pitched laugh.  

“I see,” Azula responded.  She daintily picked up a wonton from her bowl with her chopsticks and popped it in her mouth, her eyes never leaving Botan’s.  Once she had swallowed her food, she continued, “My son called you Lady Botan.  That means you are a member of the nobility.  How could you possibly not have known who he was?”

“Azula…” Tom-Tom said softly.  However, his pleasant smile never left his face.  

“I don’t believe we have ever seen you at court, Lady Botan,” he said in an attempt to soften Azula’s words.  

“No, my mom was the one who was noble,” Botan explained.  “She was an only child and inherited the estate.  But she died when I was four, from cancer.  My dad’s just a silk merchant, and he didn’t see a reason to live at the Caldera after that.”

“Ah, yes, I remember hearing about that now,” Tom-Tom replied.  “Lady Ayako, wasn’t it?  I think I met her once or twice.  I offer my condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Botan said.  “But it’s okay.  I hardly remember her, so I’m just kind of used to it now, you know?” Another nervous giggle escaped her.

Their conversation had to be suspended at that moment, since the servants were clearing away their soup bowls; Azula noted that Botan had scarcely touched hers.  Then, two beautiful roast ducks were presented for their main course, skin sizzling and deep golden-brown.  They were accompanied by a sweet and spicy sauce, along with sides of rice, scallion pancakes, and mixed vegetables.  

“You’re in for a treat, Botan!” Kazuo said while grinning.  “They make the best roast duck here in the palace.  It was one of the things I missed the most when I was in Shuhon.”

Botan smiled back at him, although it looked a little strained.  

For a few minutes, they ate in silence.  However, Azula wasn’t quite done with her interrogation yet.  

“Prince Kazuo informed me that you are a recent graduate of Capital University,” she said.   “What was your major?”

“Psychology and sociology, Princess.  Double major,” Botan said.  At least that was a hopeful sign.  Perhaps this young lady wasn’t as unintelligent as she appeared.  

“Then you must have made the acquaintance of my friend Ty Lee,” Azula stated.

Botan nodded eagerly, seemingly relieved that they’d found some common ground.  “Yes.  She taught my Trauma Psych class.   She…well, it could be a difficult class at times, but it was always interesting.”

Azula raised an eyebrow, feeling annoyed for reasons she didn’t fully understand.  “Why ‘difficult?’  Is my friend too strict of a teacher for your liking?  Or are you simply averse to a little hard work?”

She heard intakes of breath from both her husband and son.  Botan’s face flooded with color.  “No, no, she was a great teacher!  Really nice.  It’s just…it was difficult for another reason…”  Her gaze darted frantically over to Kazuo.  He squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear, and she nodded.  

“We’re going to go take a walk,” he stated, glowering in Azula’s direction.  Before she could protest, Tom-Tom said, “Yes, that’s fine. I think it would be best for all of us.”

As soon as the younger two had left the room, Azula’s husband turned to her.  

“Azula, we have been married for twenty-seven years, and I love you more than anything.  You know that,” he said.  “Nevertheless, you went too far this time.  I thought that Botan was a perfectly nice young lady, and was trying her best.  You should consider apologizing to her when she returns.  I will certainly do so myself for not doing more to intervene.” His voice was as level as always, but it had a hint of underlying steel that Azula had only heard a handful of times during their marriage.  It meant that this was one of the rare occasions that Tom-Tom was genuinely angry at her.  And if something was sufficient to piss him off, then she knew it was serious.

“I didn’t think I was that…” Azula began somewhat lamely, only to cut herself off when she heard muffled sobs coming from down the hallway.  It was clear that Tom-Tom heard it too.

“…Right.  I’ll go apologize to her now,” she sighed in resignation as she got up from the table.

When she opened the door to their apartment, she heard Botan wailing, “She hated me! A..and I can’t blame her because I sounded like an idiot!”

Kazuo took her into his arms.  “Aw, no, sweetie, you did just fine.  Mom can be…difficult.  But I’m going to talk to her later tonight, and I think Dad already did.”

Azula waited in the shadows for a while, until Botan’s tears faded, and her mind wandered back to the day almost twenty-nine years ago when Tom-Tom had comforted her in much the same way.  It appeared that her son had turned out to be as good a man as his father.  

Finally, she cleared her throat, and both Kazuo and Botan’s head shot up.  

“If you wanted to say something to me, you might as well do it now,” she said.

Kazuo frowned. “I don’t think this is a good time, Mom…”

“No.”  Botan stepped out of Kazuo’s embrace.  “I…I want to tell her.  Alone.”

“Wow.  Are you sure?  That’s…I know that would be difficult for you, especially since this is just your first time meeting her.” Kazuo touched her shoulder again.  Botan looked down and took a deep breath.

“…Yes,” she finally said.

“Might I suggest doing this in my study instead of in the hallway?  The palace servants are quite proficient at making themselves almost invisible in order to eavesdrop,” Azula pointed out.  

“Good idea,” Kazuo admitted.  Then, to Botan, “One last time…are you really sure?  I don’t want you to feel pressured to do it if you’re not ready.”

The younger woman squared her shoulders.  “I’m ready.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Now,” Azula said, once they were both situated in comfortable upholstered chairs and free from any listening ears, “What was it you wanted to tell me?  I give you permission to speak freely.”

She was expecting for Botan to yell at her, to fling all sorts of insults.  What she actually said was somewhat surprising.

“I’d been wanting to meet you for so long, before I ever knew Kazuo,” she began. “You’re...you’re my hero. All that work you’ve done to raise awareness for sexual abuse, all the charities you run…and I read the book you co-wrote with Professor Ty Lee.  It was so comforting to me after…”

She broke off; tears were running down her face again.  Azula wordlessly gave her a handkerchief from the stack on her desk. Even though her own crying spells occurred nowhere nearly as frequently as they had in her youth, they still had the nasty tendency to blindside her every now and then.

Once Botan had gotten this latest burst of emotion under control, the words poured out of her like water from a burst dam.  She said, “I was nineteen.  A man who I had seen as one of my closest friends put something in my drink when we were at a party, and then he took me to his dorm room and…and raped me.  And everyone thought I was lying about it because he was so popular!  I tried to go to the campus police, and they wouldn’t press charges because they didn’t think there was enough evidence. All they said was that I shouldn’t have looked away from my drink.  I was so discouraged that I kept it from most of my family; didn’t even tell Kazuo until about a month ago…”

“And yet you told me, even after I upset you,” Azula pointed out.

“Yeah,” Botan acknowledged.  More scrubbing at her eyes, and she continued, “I know it seems weird.  But I thought if anyone would understand, you would. Your book helped me get through that. I kept telling myself that you had it so much worse than me, since I was an adult when it happened, and not…I mean, I’d had boyfriends before, and I couldn’t even remember much of it, and he wasn’t my dad, and I didn’t…didn’t…”

“Didn’t get pregnant?” Azula guessed.

“…yeah.”

“I see.”  She took a moment to figure out exactly how she wanted to say this.

“Trauma isn’t a competition,” she finally said as she rose from her chair and walked closer to Botan. “Just because yours was different from mine, doesn’t mean it wasn’t as real.  And…I apologize for my behavior, as difficult as it is for me to say that. You shouldn’t have had to feel compelled to share something so personal just to seek my approval.  At the same time, I am glad that my life’s work meant something to you.  My goal was that no abuse survivor should feel as alone as I did, or my father’s other prey did.  It appears as though there is still much work for me to do, though.  Perhaps my charities need a younger spokesperson who is more in touch with the times.  Someone like you…if you find that arrangement pleasing.”

Botan was struck speechless for a few moments.  Then, she breathed, “Of course I would, Princess. It would be such a great honor, and my dream job.  I just hope I can be worthy of it.”

“If you are seeking to become a part of the royal family, you’ll have to find some cause to champion,” Azula remarked.  “My brother is all about public service.  Now let us finish our dinner, shall we?  There is plum ice cream for dessert, which we won’t want to miss.”

“Sounds good,” Botan replied.

“It is Kazuo’s favorite flavor.  If you intend to marry my son, it would be wise of you to memorize all of his preferred foods, don’t you think?”

Perhaps she had found that perfect mate for her son that she

[thebestestboyo]

How Remus Started Working For Patton: Part Five And A Half

Master post

Since I am currently wracking my brain for ideas on the actual next chapter, I decided to write what happened when Roman had been dropped off at Logan's place! Enjoy!

Tw: Swearing

When Remus said he was dropping him at a friend place, he expected to be at some stripper's house, or at the apartment he and Virgil shared. He even wouldn't put it past him to just take him to work! (It had happened before, and while dull, was quiet enough to sleep under Remus's desk.)

But even so, he was most certainly unprepared to find himself at this impasse with the most gorgeous man he had ever met! Never mind the fact that he had that weird shield thing on his head and the house smelled vaguely of smoke.

Wait, did he himself even look decent?? Remus had just taken him directly from his apartment, he probably looked horrid!

"Apologies, my brother tends to whisk me to places at the most inopportune of moments, I doubt you'd actually want me here in the current state I'm in." Oh god this could have gone so much better if Remus had just let him fix his hair or something!

"While normally random men are not dropped off at my domicile for observation, you are Remus's brother it seems, so I can't blame you for showing up so spontaneously. Have you eaten anything yet? I still have some breakfast left over from earlier."

"Actually I just had coffee, but I don't want to intrude-"

This absolute Apollo of a man turned his head so fast to look Roman in the eye, that he wouldn't have been surprised if he heard his neck crack. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and I would be damned if someone in my house didn't eat at least something."

"It's really no trouble-"

Oh my, he hadn't even gotten his name yet, and already he was being lead to the kitchen by Remus's friend, sat down at the counter.

"Do you harbor any allergies?"

"Mm, shellfish, but other than that, no."

"Noted. I presume eggs are satisfactory?"

"Yes please! Oh, where are my manners, I'm Roman." Shoot he had his back turned! Ro couldn't do that cool prince thing where he kissed his hand!

"Dr Logan Quinn. If I may ask, why would your brother feel the need to drop you off here? You appear perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, are you sick?"

"Most certainly not! I am in pristine health, he's just overreacting."

Glancing back at him, Logan gave him a once over, then turning back. "I see. Then the dark shadows under your eyes are simply runny eyeshadow?"

Roman let out a gasp, a hand flying to his chest. "As if I would wear black eyeshadow to bed! Or at all for that matter, it makes me look unkept."

"While I do not know your normal-" He rummaged in his pocket for a set of...flash cards? "-vibe, I would not expect your typical state to be pajamas and socks with sandals either. I just thought to ask."

"My dearest Logan, are you worried about me too?" Fluttering his eyelashes, he couldn't help but smile at his words.

"Merely curious as to why you're here. I wouldn't say I know you well enough to worry too quite yet. Perhaps a bit, but not as much given the circumstances."

"You wound me! I've known you for...about ten minutes and you don't feel the same way I do for you?"

"If how you feel is 'confused and slightly concerned' then I feel exactly the same way."

Letting out a laugh, Ro set his chin across his hands, smiling wider. "Not quite, intrepid scientist."

Logan set a plate down in front of him, before opening his fridge again, giving Ro an eyeful of some suspicious-looking vials. Was that...squid ink?

"...what's that look on your face?"

"Is that...is that the squid ink my brother used on our cousin's car?" Roman resorted to using his brother as a conversation? He must be very overworked, or he would have thought he was losing his touch! Who talks about their gremlin brother on their first meeting?

"I presume so, I am not aware of any other supplier of raw squid ink that Remus would frequently visit."

God why did Logan have to speak so eloquently? Roman was a mess and this was his first impression on this absolute stunner of a man? "Do you happen to have any other scientific-"

"You probably don't want to hear about them, they aren't all that interesting in the eyes of others."

"No, no really! I'd love to see some, I have no idea what the original experiment was for but I'd absolutely love to learn if you'd be willing to talk about it...?"

Ok maybe this wasn't so bad of an idea, judging by the way that the scientist's eyes lit up. "Well, squids have been known to change color to match their surroundings, both for protection and sneaking up on prey. I was researching what exactly causes their skin to do this, and if it can be replicated, as it is a trait we have also seen in octopus, chameleons-"

Roman's food long forgotten, he focused solely on him, not even minding that he didn't understand several of the words within Logan's sentences. It was mind boggling that he could even know so much and still had things to add to his theories and his experiments, hands gesturing rapidly as he explained.

"That's the only part of what I've discovered thus far- my apologies, I rambled again didn't I?" His face began to tint pink under his glasses, an absolutely beautiful sight to glimpse.

"Not at all! It was quite interesting as far as I could understand, even if I don't know all the terms you mentioned." Maybe not all hope was lost for them to become...friends? Lovers? Roman wasn't sure right now, his brain was sorta fuzzy from the effects of his coffee beginning to wear off. He needed to put more caffeine in it next time, even if the taste was horridly bitter.

"Well, that's-" He took out another flashcard, that looked like it had Remus's handwriting on it? "Quite groovy if I say so myself, if you'd like you could come see the squid I have in the tank?"

"I would be happy to gaze upon the subjects of your scientific endevors, but are those flashcards made by my brother...?" Goddammit he had to stop bringing his brother into this!

"Yes, he has helped me with slang and thought it best to write me up some examples and reminders."

"Some of those are probably not typical slang."

"Yes, I was actually wondering about that..."

"Here, if you'd like, I'll check over them for you just to make sure he didn't fill them all with innuendos or whatever."

After Logan remembered the importance of breakfast (making Roman eat the breakfast he had previously ignored) the two of them walked to the in-home lab that was set up, Ro amazed at all the squid, as well as all the dick jokes that his brother had written in his explainations of modern slang. No people did not use 'mood' to show that they were horny! Most of the time anyways.

As the caffeine eventually left his system, and Logan got back to work with Ro sitting down at a small desk near him, it wasn't before long till Roman was passed out facedown on the counter. He really needed a better sleep schedule. But at least the thump of his head let Logan know, otherwise he probably would have fallen out of his chair.

At the very least, his mind decided to take pity on him, for once not giving him nightmares, and instead, let him imagine him and Logan, at the aquarium gazing into an abyss of squid.

He should really thank Remus later.