#who in turn suffered the moral injury of killing his own brother

[rewiredthethirdblog]

Comment by pepperjones926 on Reddit

The New London School Explosion. On the afternoon of March 18, 1937, the shop teacher at the school in New London, TX turned on an electric sander. Unbeknownst to him, there was a massive natural gas leak under the school. The sander sparked, which ignited the gas and caused a massive explosion that killed almost 300 students and teachers. It was absolutely horrific. The force of the explosion was so great that a two ton block of concrete crushed a car parked 200 feet away. This event is actually why natural gas has a smell now. They started adding it after the explosion so that something like this couldn’t ever happen again.

My grandfather was actually one of the survivors of the explosion. He never talked about it, even to his own family, so I didn’t really know too much about it (other than the fact that he’d survived) until after his death. Toward the end of his life, he’d suffered a series of strokes that left him pretty physically incapacitated, so my dad had given him a voice-activated tape recorder and suggested maybe he could record his memoirs for his grandkids to listen to someday. As it turns out, he did. We have hours and hours of cassette tapes of him telling the story of his (actually very interesting) life, including a big section on the New London school explosion. For the sake of everyone’s privacy, I’ll call my grandfather Papa and use an initial for anyone else.

Papa was in eighth grade when it happened, in his English class at about 3:00 PM on a Thursday afternoon. At the beginning of class, Papa and his buddy T had been messing around and being loud in the back of the classroom (as eighth grade boys often do). His teacher, Miss M, had enough of their disruptions and made Papa switch seats with another student. He moved into the girl’s desk in the front row, and she moved back into his desk in the back of the room. When the school exploded, they were taking a test on the book Ivanhoe. Papa was knocked out for a short time, and when he woke up, he couldn’t see anything because the dust was so thick. He looked down and saw that his pencil had blown clear through his hand. When the dust cleared, he saw that the whole back of the room was gone. I won’t go into details, but there were bodies (and parts of bodies) everywhere. The students in the front half of the room survived. The students in the back half did not. That included Papa’s friend T and the little girl who’d been forced to take Papa’s desk because of his misbehavior at the beginning of class. If he hadn’t been acting up, he would have been killed and she would have lived. He carried the guilt of her death until the day he died.

Papa’s classroom was on the second floor. There wasn’t any way to get to the room other than the open cavity of the explosion. After the few seconds of initial shock wore off, he and another classmate jumped into action. They were the only two kids in the class who hadn’t been badly injured. They made a tourniquet out of a sock and a shoelace for a girl with a severe injury to her arm and dug out their teacher, who was alive, but badly injured. By then, men were running up underneath the hole, so Papa and the other boy started lowering the injured to them. Then those who could walk, including Papa, climbed down. He ran off to look for his older brother, B, to see if he was OK.

As it turned out, B had been supposed to be in Geometry class. However, he and his buddy had snuck out to go fishing. The explosion happened as they were opening the door to head out to the parking lot. The force of the blast sent them tumbling head over foot across the lot. They were both banged up and dazed, but they survived. The rest of their Geometry class was killed. I don’t know that there’s a moral in the fact that both my grandfather and his brother survived because they were misbehaving that day. I do know that it weighed very heavily on both of them for he rest of their lives.

There’s a lot more to his story about the day and the aftermath (most of it absolutely horrific), but I won’t go into all of it here. A few small tidbits though:

- Papa and the boy who helped him rescue the other students from their classroom were both awarded medals and certificates of valor for their actions that day.

- Nearly every family in town lost a child - some all of their children. I’m sure you can imagine the extreme toll this took on everyone’s mental health. Papa described New London in the months following the explosion as a “town with no children.” To help with the healing process, the oil companies actively recruited families with kids to transfer in, so that there was some sense of normalcy when school started again in the fall.

- Papa had played French horn in the school band. However, when school started up again, he was asked to switch to trumpet, as the entire trumpet section had been killed.

A few years later, my grandfather went on to fight in World War II, and he saw some of the worst conflict in the Pacific (including Peleliu and the liberation of Manila). But he said that nothing he saw during the war was ever as bad as what he saw the day of the explosion. I’m always amazed that more people don’t know about it. It was major international news at the time.

EDIT: Holy cow! I’m overwhelmed by the amount of interest this has brought. Thank you for all of the awards and comments! To address a couple of things people mentioned in the comments:

- There is a small museum at the site of the explosion in New London. If you’re ever out that way, I do recommend checking it out. It is very well done and incredibly moving. My grandfather’s story, while amazing, is just one of many that day.

- A couple people mentioned the telegram from Hitler. Yes, it’s there at the museum. This was a few years before he came into full power, but he was an up-and-coming political figure in Germany at the time. I looked it up online. The original is in German, but the translation reads, “On the occasion of the terrible explosion at New London, Tex, which took so many young lives, I want to assure your Excellency of my and the German people‘s sincere sympathy. - Adolph Hitler, German Reichs Chancellor.”

- I don’t know the details, but I do know from some things my grandmother said, that Papa had some PTSD, both from the explosion and the war.

- We did get the recordings converted to digital files, which we have stored in several safe locations. A number of years ago I under took the project of transcribing everything and putting together a book of my grandfathers total memoirs. In addition to the school explosion, he really lived a fascinating life. As a little kid, he was present for one of the most famous circus disasters of all time (the Corsicana elephant rampage), and he saw some of the fiercest action in the Pacific as an engineer for the Army Air Force during WW2. He also went from being the dirt poor son of an oil field worker to a pretty successful salesman. Later in life, at the same time my dad went to graduate school, Papa decided to go back to school and get his masters as well, which led to a career shift to become a college professor, and he taught in both Louisiana and Hong Kong. He was really a very interesting guy. Sadly, he had his two strokes when I was pretty young, and he died when I was 14, so all of my memories of him are of a pretty ill man in a wheelchair. Working on transcribing his memoirs, I feel like I got to know him better after his death than I ever did in life. I am so thankful for that. I compiled the memoirs into a book that we published just for family members. In addition to my grandfather’s personal photographs (he kept a camera with him all throughout the war), there are a number of pictures that I pulled from online, so we couldn’t publish it as it is due to copyright issues. But maybe someday I will go back and reformat everything to submit to the Library of Congress or for wider distribution.

- You want a happy story about him to help counter the explosion? This is a good one. :-) At the start of WW2, while he was in basic training, a girl named Kitty sent her brother Keith a goofy picture of herself splashing around in the creek behind their family farm in TX. The picture of Kitty caught the attention of Keith's bunkmate, Papa, who decided to write Kitty a smart alecky note of his own, jokingly criticizing her manners for showing her ugly bare feet in public. Kitty was not amused. She wrote him a scathing letter, and received a very apologetic note from Papa in response. This began a written correspondence that continued throughout the war. Papa wrote faithfully from some of the most remote, dangerous locations in the Pacific. She sent him news of the home front and taunted him with descriptions of fried chicken dinners. He sent her pictures of crocodiles and told her of the orphaned children he cared for after the Liberation of Manila. When Papa came back to the US in 1946, he made a trip out to the farm to see his old friend Keith and to finally meet Kitty face to face. That was on a Friday. They were engaged the following Wednesday and were happily married for over 50 years.

Edit #2 for a typo.

Edit #3 - u/The_Essayist_8 brought this video clip to my attention, and it’s a pretty good account of the event. There are firsthand survivor stories, including one quite similar to my grandfather’s situation, only this man traded seats with another student so that he could sit near the girl he liked. He survived, the other student did not. Worth a watch, but be warned that it’s pretty heartbreaking. https://youtu.be/aKt01p3DJRw

[stxleslyds]

You always seem down on the idea of the Batfam. I mean, it is hard to take seriously when writers make Bruce hostile or downright abusive towards his kids, or when Batfam members never interact. But do you think the concept itself is good, and it's just been the victim of bad writing? Or do you think the Batfam is a bad idea that can never work?

Hi there Anon! Thank you for the ask!

Hmm, this is a difficult question. Maybe I can answer this better if I do it in parts because the concept of “Batfamily” is used in different ways currently. A way to separate them can be, DC’s Batfamily, Fandom’s Batfamily and Fandom’s Batfamily lore being introduced in comics’ canon.

DC’s Batfamily:

My rejection of this version of Batfamily comes from all angles, it is not a good concept within comics lore anymore, it’s badly written and used to hide and move on from truly horrendous actions done by Bruce towards the rest of the family, and DC uses the concept of “Batfamily” that fandom has become so attached to, so they can profit off of it without writing anything of real essence with it.

Why did I say that the Batfamily isn’t a good concept anymore? Well, because the Batfamily that I first came across in comics included, Bruce, Dick, Alfred, Barbara, Tim and Cassandra. It was rather small and their books interconnected and had pretty solid relationships with one another. Dick and Tim got along and spent time together, Barbara mentored Cass so she could become Batgirl and so on and so forth. The family was smaller and more connected. But they still had problems and bad habits then. So, I liked them as a group of people that worked together and the name they received was “Batfamily” as a way for DC to profit from it.

Right now, the Batfamily is huge, I don’t know if you have seen those splash pages with all the members of it for Rebirth and Infinite Frontier, but those promotional pages were crazy big, characters like Harley and Clownhunter are now considered part of the “Batfamily” and all that. Then there is the kind of characters like Cass, Steph and Kate who are all connected to Batman but that haven’t been appearing in books for very long, so putting them on that page really feels like DC is trying to prove that their “Batfamily” actually has women on it, but it’s just for show.

And then there is Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian, the most recognizable faces of the Batfamily aside from Bruce and Alfred (but Alfred is dead now so he doesn’t really count), all of them have had issues with Bruce or are indifferent to the existence of one another. Yes, Tom Taylor has included Tim in Dick’s book but here is the thing, it feels like he put him there just to make fans shut up about the lack of content with both of them acting as they used to do. But its false and lazy, Taylor just brought Tim to the book but we don’t get to see Tim and Dick interact in ways that can explain why they drifted off, it kinda seems like all those years where Dick and Tim were pulled apart never happened to DC and that makes me think “cash grab”. I would have loved to see them interact again if it meant that we would have some solid story for them to develop their relationship once more.

At the end of Rebirth, Damian was pissed off at Bruce and they had a fight and Damian left the manor completely. Bruce beat up Jason, then gave him a hug but still told him that he was banned from Gotham and all that abuse and manipulation was swept under the rug when DC came out with Urban Legends: Cheer, all they did with that story is lie and made-up stories about Jason wanting Bruce to go on a killing spree so Gotham can finally be the home to his beloved family (lies, lies, lies).

On top of all that we have the neglect, abuse and manipulation that Bruce had going on with Dick, ever since Bruce manipulated Dick into joining Spyral his actions haven’t faced any consequences (the family still believes that Dick was the one who lied about dying). And as recently as the end of Rebirth, Dick suffered from a head injury that left him amnesiac and Bruce absolutely didn’t care enough to look after him when he was so vulnerable and alone. DC had the audacity of having Bruce say that he was looking after Dick while Dick went from one villain manipulating and hurting him to another, and if we look at Batman’s run, we can see that he spent some of that time in a weird pit or playing catch the pussy with Selina in a tropical island.

So, taking all those things into account, I honestly believe that the Batfamily is a concept that absolutely does not belong in comics. If it were to be taken seriously then DC should come up with (organic, not forced) stories that make these characters connect once again, but they have to be careful, just because they can connect it doesn’t mean that everyone gets along and they have group chats and eat dinner together of Fridays, that would be a blatant lie and just too out there for their kind of dynamic, so, they should take things slow, start re-building what once was an make it better (if they want to make it work and feel like less of a cash grab).

I heard that there is a book with Cass and Steph being mentored as Batgirls by Barbara coming out in December, that to me is a good thing, what was done in Robin #5 was awful, Jason didn’t have or want to be there, Tim, what the hell was Tim doing there? The only ones that have gotten along with Damian and have had a solid relationship with him were Dick and Steph. Dick had a very nice moment with Damian in that issue, but Steph didn’t, they preferred to have Jason wanting to hug Damian instead (what the actual hell was that?).

Fandom’s Batfamily:

Fandom is a place where people can take any concept from anywhere and transform it into whatever they please. This fandom is just like any other in that matter, but I have noticed that sometimes the Batfamily Fandom tends to blur the lines between what’s fanon and canon. Their lore is so deep and established among people that they sometimes (willingly or not) make new readers or other people believe that how things and perceived in fandom is how things actually are in comics, and that is a huge problem.

Things like “Dick sent Jason to Arkham when the Joker was just a cell away”, “Jason has pit madness and when he gets mad his eyes turn glowy green”, “Dick was a horrendous brother to Jason before Jason died”, “Jason would be good friends with Tim and Cass”, “Jason is the only one that sees the world differently from Bruce and the other robins because he is the only one that comes from a life with no luxury” and so on and on and on…

All of those things are sometimes treated as the absolute truth by fandom and no matter how many times people have debunked and explained that those things aren’t part of comics’ canon because they are simply not true, fandom stills treats those things as the basis of their Batfamily lore.

That lore would be actually fascinating if people didn’t lose sight so easily of the fact that at the end of the day none of that lore can be applied to comics’ canon.

When you enter this fandom things can be extremely confusing and the way some of the characters are characterized are completely different to their canon characterizations, I knew that the Dick fandom was writing about was not real, but I had no idea that Tim being a coffee addict that hasn’t slept in five months and is an absolute genius in everything and anything that he does was completely out of character for him, I just thought that was true to his character in comics too. Something like that happened to me when I took a peek at Jason’s side of fandom, by that time I had read Red Hood/Arsenal, UtRH and New 52 RHatO (yeah in that order, Red Hood/Arsenal wasn’t finished yet though), with the already conflicting characterizations of those books, the first look that I had at fandom’s Jason confused me even more. After considering all those I decided that the Jason that I wanted to see and actually looked appealing to me was UtRH Jason.

Not all people in fandom read comics and that is ABSOLUTELY VALID, I have zero problems with people not liking the comic characterizations of the “Batfamily” characters, but that in itself also creates a rift between fans themselves.

Fandom’s Batfamily lore being introduced in comics’ canon:

This is obviously the intersection of the other two points and this is the biggest problem that I have with the Batfamily concept. The fandom lore has been leaking into comic’s canon for a while now but right now we are kinda drowning in it. Decisions that have been made recently in DC like, Jason giving up his guns, the group chats in Nightwing issues, the family dinners that were hinted at in Cheer #6, and Bruce having had at the ready a Red Hood suit for Jason with a Batman logo in its chest, have been proof enough that DC is planning on skipping any kind of solid writing for these characters to actually get along. We are never going to see these people sit down and talk about their differences and respect each other’s work ethics.

We are never going to get stories of actual essence that prove that these characters understand and care for each other, we are just going to be told that “all is good” and now everyone loves one another and they will build from there.

That is a problem for me.

-

And it also takes away duality from Gotham’s vigilantes, I know I say this too much but it’s the truth, putting all these characters under the ruling of Batman makes them all bland. Jason shouldn’t be part of any sort of group that involves Bruce! My god, I don’t want to see them interact anymore! Bruce has been absolute trash to Jason ever since he came back from the dead and I am tired of DC trying to make them be on good terms!

Jason and Bruce not getting along can co-exist with the fact that Jason isn’t a villain to Batman’s legendary hero. Jason is his own character, with his own morals and he doesn’t need a bat symbol on his chest or book logo to be relevant. Same with Dick, Tim and Barbara, let them be characters that can stand on their own because they have already done that!

Barbara as Oracle worked WITH Batman if she wanted, she had her own logo and had passed on the mantle of Batgirl because he had grown out of it.

Dick is Nightwing and has become an even better hero than Batman could even aspire to become, he has contacts with everyone in the DC universe, has led countless teams, he doesn’t NEED a batman logo on his book or to be constantly dragged back to him just to make the Bat more compelling.

Jason, my sweet Jason, he had his own logo! It was gorgeous and then Lobdell had the audacity to stamp a Batman logo in the middle of the book name and in Jason’s chest! Have we gone absolutely mad? Why did they do that? Lobdell’s constant back and forth with Jason and his feelings for Bruce, he respects him and he doesn’t, he kills and he doesn’t… each issue felt like a new take on the character! It was crazy!

And that has happened with everyone in the “family”. I will end this by saying that Bruce/Batman being at the centre of this “Batfamily” dynamic is the most laughable thing in the DC Universe. Batman isn’t family to any of the people that they constantly surround him with, he is a piece of shit.

Anyway Anon, I hope this answer doesn’t ruin your day and that you understand that even though I really don’t like the “Batfamily” concept, you and everyone else are allowed and encouraged to think differently!

Hope you have a marvellous day Anon!

[askaceattorney]

Manfred Von Karma Character Essay

Dear Dakadondon,

I’m going to give it a go on a character essay on my favorite villain, Manfred Von Karma. I haven’t been able to find any on him and I feel like he’s often overlooked as the nothing-but-evil villain when there is so much more to him than meets the eye.

When we are first introduced to Manfred Von Karma, he both is the final boss of the game and a foil for both Phoenix Wright and his rival, Miles Edgeworth. He represents the karma brought down upon Miles Edgeworth’s shoulders by his actions in the first game, thus his name “karma” or “ Karuma,” which means “karma” in Japanese. This works in the same way with Franziska Von Karma representing Phoenix Wright’s karma in AA2. Since we are focusing on Manfred Von Karma, he will be our main focus.

We are introduced to Manfred Von Karma as Miles Edgeworth’s mentor, but it is in AA2 we find out he is much more than a mentor. He was also a father figure of sorts to Miles Edgeworth. This relationship is often overlooked, even by the game itself. We are told by Franziska Von Karma how Miles Edgeworth was like her little brother, but nowhere in the game does it ever mention or demonstrate how Miles Edgeworth would be the son of Manfred Von Karma. Even the anime never truly focuses on that portion. As a result, we, as the players, are like Godot in how we miss the obvious red on white part of the case, and instead focus on the mentor and student relationship.  Like anyone, why would we believe someone as twisted and vindictive as Manfred Von Karma would consider Miles Edgeworth as a son? Yet, this same man considered him the student under Von Karma? If Sebastian Debeste’s relationship with his father could be father/son and mentor/student, why wouldn’t the same also apply to Manfred Von Karma and Miles Edgeworth?

To understand this father/son relationship Miles Edgeworth shares with Manfred Von Karma, we first need to understand why it is overlooked or taken out throughout the game. After losing his father, Miles Edgeworth practically lost everything. If we are to assume his father was the only family he ever had in his life, then this would mean he became an orphan. He was alone without anyone to care for or love him. All of a sudden, this Prosecutor, who had gone up against his father in court, takes him in under his wing. He gives Miles Edgeworth food, a home, a little sister, a family, education and training to become a Prosecutor. Before, Miles Edgeworth only had his father, now under the Von Karmas, he has a family. Manfred Von Karma gave Miles Edgeworth much more than his biological father ever did, when we take into account the mentioned family of Manfred Von Karma than just Franziska: a niece, a possible extra sibling(s) and a mother.

In the head of Miles Edgeworth, he is not deserving of this. He mentally believes he is responsible for the murder of his own father. He isn’t deserving of a family, a home or any of these things. This is a similar mentality he will eventually have with Phoenix later on after Turnabout Goodbyes. In turn, we have Manfred Von Karma, who is simply using Miles and his genius to have as his own. He knows of his crime of having murdered this boy’s father and yet is willing to provide this boy with a better life. It feels off for Manfred Von Karma, if we were to assume he’s your typical devilish bad guy with no moral compass. Though, if we were to take AAI2 into account in how he praises his wife’s cooking, despite being an amateur, and was willing to defend Delicia Scone’s innocence for no other reason other than, “she is innocent,” we can assume he does have some form of moral compass. At the very least, he is capable of love for those he considers family and will protect those he considers innocent. If we are to assume that he does love his family, or at least is capable of such, we can assume that there was a tiny bit of compassion he had in taking in Miles Edgeworth. Even if we were to reason that Manfred Von Karma was simply using Miles Edgeworth to cover up his own crime, no one can deny that Manfred Von Karma could’ve made him into a Cinderella or killed him under his care.

Of course, many would disagree this man would have a heart, if only because the game seems to imply that Manfred Von Karma took in Miles Edgeworth to beat the dead horse that was Gregory Edgeworth. Except, that would imply that Manfred Von Karma believes in spirits and was so passionate that he was willing to raise a child with severe trauma, nightmares and phobias. To put it simply, raising Miles Edgeworth, for Manfred Von Karma, would have been a nightmare in itself. Not only because he’d be having sleepless nights from a child, then teenager being up in the middle of the night because of nightmares, but also having to calm him down every time an earthquake hit, perhaps having to deal with Miles Edgeworth’s fear of elevators and there are the effects of DL-6 that took a toll on Miles Edgeworth. Anyone who knows anyone that deals with severe trauma will tell you that each day, minute and second that person is still living is a miracle. This is something Manfred Von Karma would be having to face every morning and night. For Miles Edgeworth, he believes he killed his own father and is not deserving of anything. Perhaps being a Prosecutor is his way of punishing himself, but it is also a goal he strives for that was placed upon him by Manfred Von Karma himself. You could say that Manfred Von Karma gave Miles Edgeworth a reason to live.

Knowing this, it makes sense why Manfred Von Karma framed Miles Edgeworth for the murder of Robert Hammond. This wasn’t about him ruining Miles Edgeworth’s life or revenge against Gregory Edgeworth. This was Manfred Von Karma running away from his problems, from his own guilt. We see in Turnabout Reminiscence how quickly Manfred Von Karma was willing to leave an investigation unfinished the moment he loses control. If you were to fail that game, before Manfred Von Karma demands Miles Edgeworth and young Franziska to no longer proceed in the investigation, he will stop the investigation right away or Franziska will win. It’s only after he demands there to be no more investigation that he no longer stops the investigation, but instead it is Calisto Yew or Tyrell Badd, who at one point sends his security to kick Miles Edgeworth and Franziska out. This means that the reason Manfred Von Karma wanted Miles Edgeworth to stop the investigation was because he no longer had control over the outcome. This makes sense for his character, who also left IS-7 after the events of DL-6. He’s the kind of man to run away from his troubles. If Miles Edgeworth’s trauma was trouble for Manfred Von Karma that he can’t ever get rid of, he will proceed to get rid of Miles Edgeworth instead.

The problem with Manfred Von Karma framing Miles Edgeworth for murder is that this adds another problem. Miles Edgeworth is now the supposed son of Manfred Von Karma. Keep in mind this is a man who obsesses over perfection. To frame his own son for murder goes against being the perfect father. Aside from his own personal problems, Manfred Von Karma has no reason to get rid of Miles Edgeworth. Miles Edgeworth, while did suffer a few losses, is a valuable asset to Manfred Von Karma. He is Manfred Von Karma’s proud disciple and, if we were to assume he only has daughters, the only son he’s got. He is willing to throw away Miles Edgeworth, for what? Because of his own personal problems? Because he knows all of Miles Edgeworth’s troubles are caused by him? Because the only way to fix Miles Edgeworth is to admit that he was and is a terrible murderer and a criminal?

Much like how Manfred Von Karma represented the karma built upon all the deeds Miles Edgeworth had done, the same can also be said in reverse. For Manfred Von Karma, Miles Edgeworth is the result of his own karma. That karma will never go away and, so long as Miles Edgeworth continues to live in the Prosecutor’s circle, the karma of Manfred Von Karma will haunt him for the rest of his life, unless he decides to find closure. Whether that closure be through death or reconnecting with Miles Edgeworth, unless it is met, Manfred Von Karma will always be troubled by the karma he’s placed upon himself.

To describe Manfred Von Karma is someone that is obsessed with being perfect in every way to a fault. He has family, friends, people he loves and cares about, but is also a coward to face whatever troubles come his way. He is the opposite of Phoenix Wright, who is willing to face what he’s faulted and try to make things right. Manfred Von Karma represents a side to humanity none of us want to admit. We are very narcissistic and strive to be better than everyone else. Then, the moment we run into trouble where our true colors are shown, we tend to hide or run away like Manfred Von Karma. 

When you consider the events of IS-7, it’s clear Manfred Von Karma made many mistakes in how he approached the case. He refused help from his detective, he continually tried to fight against the Defense that he was right, he used threatening tactics to force the Defendant to confess to a crime he didn’t commit, he overlooked other crimes that happened such as the two missing boys, and he changed the case file to the Defendant being the culprit - even though he accused him of being an accomplice to the crime. While he didn’t forge the Autopsy Report, he placed the blame of the penalty he received from his boss on the Defense, who didn’t do anything wrong. To add insult to injury, he orphaned and traumatized a child that now is under his care. Manfred Von Karma continually ran away from his issues, the vile acts that he has done. As a result, he refuses to acknowledge Miles Edgeworth as his son. If he can’t acknowledge it, why should the game?

Manfred Von Karma is one of the most morally gray characters in the AA game. He represents the worst of all humanity. He’s definitely not one to sympathize with, but not because we can’t, but because we don’t want to. I consider the best villains as those you could become at any point in time. Someone like Kristoph Gavin or Dahlia Hawthorne would be much harder to see in ourselves, since their circumstances came from other bad circumstances. Manfred Von Karma, I can see in anyone no matter the circumstances or life they live. So long as you believe yourself to be better than anyone else, you will always become another Manfred Von Karma. 

Ironically enough, I do see a redemption arc in Manfred Von Karma, if he was to ever live after Turnabout Goodbyes. The reason is because, believe it or not, I did have issues with Narcissism about ten or so years ago. Of course, I wasn’t as bad as Manfred Von Karma, but I can also relate to him. As such, I also know that it only takes seeing yourself as better than everyone else to void yourself of all empathy or compassion for others. This also includes thinking your opinions are correct or others’ opinions are problematic. All it takes for a redemption arc is realizing where you’re wrong, apologizing, and making things right. Of course, you can’t erase your history, but you can make a better future, especially for those you have hurt. Luckily, we have Franziska Von Karma and Miles Edgeworth to demonstrate what Manfred Von Karma could’ve been.

- Mod Edgeworth

[17wishbones]

Here is Chapter VII: War’s End (Part 2). I low-key cried writing this because, wow, I really do love this Flame Hashira so so so so so so much. I got a bit distracted reading other fanfiction and all that but here comes the second part. Now, this has spoilers from the manga/movie, so get to watching it as soon as possible. However, if you don’t mind it, go ahead and have a read! Please enjoy!

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                                            Chapter VII: War’s End (Part 2)

Bright rays of the sun beat down on you as you stood before the oceanfront. The wind blew through your locks and along your skin. In your hands was a net and a few fish caught in them. You ogled them with a tight squint. ‘I know this handwork-’

“_____! _____!”

Your eyes widen. “That can’t be. . .” You slowly turned around and was blessed with a beautiful sight. “Mother? Father? You’re both. . .” Tears flowed like a river as you tackled them in an overdue embrace. You couldn’t swallow the sorrow that crept over your body when you thought to have lost them.

“We’re both what? Other than waiting for you to come home?” Your father was a tall man, standing halfway over six foot. His thick dreads touched the small of his back and his salt and pepper beard filled out his face. He was a handsome man still.

“You must be thirsty, _____. Come on in and drink. You’ve caught enough fish to last us a while.” Your mother was a beauty herself. She had a clean shaven head, a strong jawline, and the legs of an Amazon.

They stood tall while you remained short. You didn’t receive the end of the tall gene pool but that didn’t make you any harder to love, even though they joked about your height all the time. The two of them loved you so much.

Your mother, Oolade, wiped your tears away as your father, Uzoma, got the net of fish from the shore. “We shall eat as kings and queens together!” He shouted. “Look at the bounty our daughter has gathered!”

“I am proud of you, my sweet _____.”

“Mother, Father, please, you are embarrassing me!” You laughed. “Kyōjurō would love nothing more than to meet you both.”

“Kyōjurō?” They both questioned in unison.

“Oh.” Your mind went blank a moment. ‘Why did I say that? Kyōjurō? Who-who is that? His name sounds familiar.’

“Never mind that. Come.” You didn’t even think twice as you followed your mother to your quaint house on the shore that your father built by hand. It was just as you remembered.

“Oolade found some wild rice to make with as well. We’re going to have a feast!”

‘What was I even doing before? I must have been daydreaming.’ There was no questioning this surreal feeling as your parents showered you with love and laughter.

Overwhelmed with a sense of unbridled joy, you thought to never leave him.

You blinked. ‘Him?’ You questioned blankly. ‘Who is this him?’

Time had passed but the scenery didn’t change. “Hey, I’m going to step outside for some air.”

“Hurry back so that you may bless the food before we feast.” Your parents’ smiles, even though forever imprinted in your mind, suddenly dulled in comparison to the image of this fiery man.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You slowly opened them and saw an outlined path towards the woods. You instinctively followed it to a rip into another space. You gasped aloud as you caught a young child making their way to this shining orb floating within a bundle of sunflowers.

The child turned to you, frightened and with the needle pointing towards you. They were sweating and shaking with fear.

“What are you doing here?” 

“How did you find me!? You’re not supposed to be able to enter into your own unconsciousness!”

“It’s mine… isn’t it?” You took a step forward.

“_____? _____!” Oolade and Uzoma came running toward the border with sadness filling their eyes. “What are you doing? Come back!”

“_____, don’t leave us!”

You didn’t heed their words, but their voices wretched your heart. “You plan to do something? For what cost?”

“Destroying your core will allow me to sleep peacefully and see my family again!”

“And that’s the best way to go about it?” You ignored their calls as you pressed forward towards the child. “Your good dream will end and so shall you succumb to your pain.” Your eyes softened. “You will die a sad death. To a demon.”

“How do you know how I feel!? You just had a good dream!”

“A bittersweet dream. My parents have long since passed. They no longer live in this world. Even this cannot bring them back forever or give me peace.”

The child backed up until he was just a footstep away from your core. “Come any closer and I’ll do it!” 

You stopped your approach and knelt down, holding your arms out. “Then you choose. Live your life or succumb to an eternal slumber?”

The child had wanted a good dream of his family, to be happy, but when he saw the look on your face, the look of pain and suffering from even getting a glimpse of what life could have been with them spread over your face.

He dropped the needle and ran to you full throttle, crying his heart out as he embraced you tight around your neck.

This was the right thing to do. Even as good as the dream would be, it would hurt all the more to have it taken away.

The faux warmth of the child disappeared and your eyes fluttered open to an ungodly sight that made you want to throw up.

“What the hell!?” You stood on top of flesh. “Intestines!?”

Rengoku flashed past you by one moment and returned the next. “You’re awake, Sunflower!”

“Did the demon become a train!?”

“So it seems, yes! Kamado and Hashibira are going for the neck. Our job—”

“Is to protect the passengers at all costs.”

“Nn! You take care of this cart and I’ll do the other four!”

“Just one?”

“Your safety is of utmost importance! Aid Golden Boy and the Demon girl as needed!” He kissed you quiet before dashing off in a blaze, hushing your protests.

“That man…” you drew your Nichirin blade, “Is so…” your short dash in the cart made easy work of the disgusting, fleshy tendrils, “Annoying!” But you couldn’t argue with his command or logic. He was sound in the midst of danger.

What you did was light work, and by the looks of it, Zenitsu and Nezuko had the other three sorted as Tanjiro and Inosuke ran for the front of the train. You hummed, slightly irritated at your position. You were getting into none of the action, but you knew how fast Rengoku and Zenitsu were moving by the back and forth teetering of the carts.

‘This train could topple at any moment, especially with all of this monstrous bulk. So, there’s no telling when it’ll--’ A shrill filled the air, disorienting you as the train of muscle crumpled up and fell right off the track. If it weren’t for the demon’s flesh and that Demon Slayer footwork, people onboard would have been seriously injured.

You checked those in your assigned cart and then where Zenitsu and Nezuko were. “Are you guys alright?” 

“Mm, mm!” Nezuko nodded as you came over to the slightly slumped Zenitsu.

“Great!” You took him by the shoulders and started shaking him away. “Zenitsu? Zenitsu! Wake up!” He was still asleep, but he only incurred very few injuries as Nezuko had. “At least you two are alright. You really held your own, Nezuko. I’m a little jealous I didn’t get to help out much at all.”

Nezuko, no matter if tired or full of spunk, was just a beauty to look at. You understood why Zenitsu was so smitten with her though he feigned himself a well-groomed ladies man. She offered a soft sound as a response before she leaned up against you. 

Parts of the demon’s body slowly faded from existence, leaving now broken windows with an open view to the outside. Rengoku stood over Tanjiro, instructing him as he laid on the ground. Nezuko picked up her brother’s scent and slowly headed outside. Zenitsu followed her sleepily as you grabbed a few people and exited yourself.

Suddenly, the earth shook and dust flew everywhere as something else landed unto the field. You couldn’t believe your own eyes! The aura spiked high as it circled around the tattoo-marked Upper Moon demon. The shine in those eyes were as hungry, monstrous, and devilish as their appearance.

In the blink of an eye, he was just moments away from striking Tanjiro. “Fire Breathing! Second Form! Rising Scorching Sun!” Rengoku’s quick thinking saved him. “I don’t understand why you’d target a wounded person.”

“I thought he’d just get in the way between you and me.”

You froze. You had never seen a demon so fast like this one. It was just as scary as that time in Asakusa. The aura you ingested made you run on instinct, quelling the thoughts of fear or nervousness. 

This one looked too toxic. You’d be sick for days. Not to mention, this demon only had eyes for Rengoku.

“You and I have something to talk about? It’s our first time meeting and I already hate you.” Rengoku replied.

“Is that so?” Akaza mused. “I really hate weak humans,” in terms of Tanjiro and others, “When I look at weaklings, I just feel disgusted.”

“It looks like you and I have different moral values in regards to things.”

“I see. Then I have a wonderful proposal. How about you become a demon, too?” 

“No chance.” Rengoku declined.

“I know your strength just by looking at you. You’re a pillar, right?” Akaza’s interest in Rengoku shined through his symbolic eyes. “Your battle spirit is quite polished. You’re getting close to Supreme Territory.”

“I am the Fire Hashira, Rengoku Kyōjurō.”

“And I’m Akaza.”

They both exchanged names but withheld their stances. Akaza came to kill and eat any humans as well as convert the strongest ones into those he could. However, no matter the strength, Rengoku was defiant in every sense of the matter when it came to slaying demons and protecting the weak who could not fight for themselves.

But you weren’t out of the clear, however. “Ah, seems like I have a two for one deal.” To your chagrin, the demon noticed you next. “Why don’t you consider becoming a demon, too?” He saw your spirit as well, one with potential of being his punching bag. “As a demon, you can become stronger. That wonderful sword style of yours will keep on improving and we can fight forever! Otherwise, you’ll never reach Supreme Territory and do you know why?”

Silence.

“Because you’re human. Because you’ll grow old. Because you’ll die.” Akaza pointed his finger at Rengoku. “Become a demon, Kyōjurō. You can train for a hundred years. Two hundred years. You can become stronger.”

His face grew dark as he pointed at the likes of everyone in the vicinity, truly disgusted by what he saw before him. Rengoku looked none too pleased with you inserted into the situation. ‘Don’t worry, _____. I will protect you, the children, everyone! Nobody here will die or turn into a demon while I still stand!’ He felt overprotective over you, and found it fit to fulfill his duty not only as a demon slayer, but as a man.

Rengoku couldn’t stand that look of dread and worry filling your eyes. “Growing old and dying is the beauty of the fleeting creature called a human being. Because they grow old. Because they die. They are tremendous. Lovable. What they call ‘strength’ isn’t a word that is used in regards to the body.” He wouldn’t let Akaza spout such untrue words. “This boy isn’t weak. Don’t insult him. I’ll say it over and over again. You and I have different moral values.” His sunset eyes widen menacingly. “No matter what kind of motivation I have, I will not become a demon.”

“I see.” Akaza stanced. “Technique Deployment. Destructive Kill: Compass Needle!” Akaza prepared to fight. “If you won’t become a demon, then I’ll kill you!”

Air waves and flames lit up the area as both Rengoku and Akaza moved at blinding speeds. Pillar versus Upper Moon. You were stuck in place, unable to move. The sudden gravity of the situation skyrocketed and your body froze. Your breath shifted, becoming uneven and quick.

“DON’T MOVE!! If your wounds open, it’ll be fatal! Standby, soldier!!”

Rengoku’s serious voice brought you back, but he demanded no one interfered. Inosoke, who stood at Tanjiro’s side, felt helpless.

It was an explosion of power that erupted, and emerging from the dusty cocoon was an unscathed, healed Akaza and a battered Rengoku. “Kyōjurō…?” His blood-soaked uniform recalled his humanity, his mortality. You were in a state of distress.

Akaza praised him, and employed the idea of becoming a demon, where all his wounds, his crushed eye, and his organs would heal in moments. He’d become stronger, faster, and more powerful than before, but the answer was still no.

Rengoku raised his blade and stared on with a dazzling, one-eyed smile. “I will fulfill my duties! I won’t let anyone die here!”

“You really should become a demon so that we can fight for all eternity!”

“Full Focus Breathing. Flame Breathing. Esoterica. Ninth Style: Purgatory!”

“Technique Deployment. Destructive Kill: Obliteration Style!”

They clashed in one final blow, and the results after the dust cleared terrorized you with your unknown and worst fears.

Akaza punched through Rengoku who held his blade upright. It was but a second before he tightened his grip and slashed at Akaza’s neck which surprised the demon. Rengoku, even as death approached him, remained resilient as he caught Akaza’s other hand, tightened his innards around his arm, and dug his blade further across. As the demon screamed for release, Rengoku screamed for his defeat.

“INOSUKE, MOOOOVE!!! MOVE FOR RENGOKU-SAN!!!”

Tanjiro’s shout broke you from your shock. Opportunity to strike was now or never. At the speed they ran, they wouldn’t reach Akaza as he struggled for release as the sun was due to rise. 

‘Full Focus Breathing. Fire breathing. First form: Unknowing Fire!’

It was a split second decision that made all the difference, and thanks to Inosuke. As Akaza panicked upon seeing Inosuke preparing to jump, Akaza suddenly felt weightless below. ‘What? My legs!’

Inosuke stopped just in time, leaving the final slash to Rengoku who pushed with all of his might and brought his searing blade through Akaza’s neck.

“You sneaky bit— oh no! The sun! I have to go, I have to— AHHHH!!”

Dawn broke over the horizon and Akaza’s body disintegrated.

“Kyōjurō!” You helped him to his knees, seeing the condition that he was in. “You’re hurt. Maybe if we can get you bandaged up, we can—”

“I’m sorry, My Sunflower. My stomach won’t close. I will die very soon.” He turned and addressed Tanjiro. “Kamado, my boy. Let’s have a final chat.”

Tanjiro ran over, huffing as tears stained his cheeks. “Rengoku-san, don’t talk too much! Help will be here soon. Just hold on!”

“Just listen to me. Return to the Rengoku Estate. There should be notes about the ‘Dance of the Fire God’. My father read them  many times. I didn’t read them myself, however, so I don’t know what’s inside them. And for the both of you, tell Senjuro to pursue the path that he thinks is right, as his heart tells him to. And tell my father to take care of his body. And also...” He leaned in. “Kamado, my boy, I believe in your sister. I accept her as a member of the Demon Slayers.”

Droplets of water dripped from Tanjiro’s big eyes.

“I saw that girl protect the humans inside the train despite bleeding out. Those that protect humans and fight demons are Demon Slayers, no matter what anyone else says. Live with your chest high. You, Hashibira, Golden Boy, and her will become great pillars.” His attention finally landed on you.“My Sunflower.” He weakly raised his blood-smeared hand, touching your cheek. “Never give up. I will be watching over you.”

Rivers flowed down your desolate face. “Wait for me over the bridge when I cross. And meet me in the next life.” You found his hands and held them in yours. “I-I l-” Words became lost as you choked on every letter, unable to contain the sadness corrupting your mind and heart.

It hurt him to see you like this, and it devastated him more that he wouldn’t be able to comfort you and grow old together. “My life flashed before my eyes and my most wonderful memories were of you. Your warm smile, your touch, your praises, it makes me more determined than ever to be with you wherever we may go or be.”

The last thing he’d feel was your lips on his, stained with his blood. “I’ll never forget you, Kyōjurō!” You said with as much enthusiasm as you could. “I-I love you!”

Rengoku couldn’t help but to smile. “I love you, too, My Sunflower. Set your heart ablaze. . .”

“And move forward.”

Rengoku peered past you and Tanjiro, spotting a familiar shape. ‘Mother?’ You and Tanjiro looked back but saw nothing. But an enveloping aura past you two and surrounded Rengoku. ‘Did I do everything right? Was I able to fulfill everything I was supposed to carry out?’ 

‘You did a wonderful job.’ A smile to him, a smile to her, and his head drooped. His body rested peacefully in your arms and his fiery aura dispersed as it was no more.

‘Kyōjurō!’ You were too choked up as you sobbed loudly and ugly. Your heart ached just like it had when your parents were eaten by demons.

Your world darkened, stained in your tears and his blood. What was this victory worth now that he was gone? 

It was worth every saved life here, and you knew that. It was going to weigh on your heart how you didn’t help him sooner, but his face discouraged you. He took the brunt of Akaza’s assault and held on until the very end.

You mourned over him from that day and weeks later. No one had seen you since the Mugen Train incident. Rengoku had done so much to keep everyone safe, taking his last breath on the battlefield. It had been a hard pill to swallow, one that you had not fully been accepting of even though you were there to see him off.

Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Nezuko missed seeing you around. And especially Senjuro, but you needed to separate yourself and become better. You were no use to anyone lying on your back and crying your eyes out.

With the Nichirin blade in your possession, you carried on silently with a memory of him attached at your hip. His haori? Cleaned, pressed, and framed on the wall. For as long as you lived, his legend would be immortalized. On your shoulders, you carried the burden of loss. Sometimes, it’d hurt so much, your chest would heave and you’d clutch part of your left breast, where the pain ran deep as tears stung your eyes.

You left Senjuro with a kind yet sad smile as you didn’t want to hear the ugly mutterings of his father’s distant, drunk voice. His aura dripped in a drab blue, his melancholy nature surely melting at the loss of not only his wife but now his eldest son.

You hadn’t forgotten about those you loved. You’d be back for them. - - - - - - - - - -  Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII (Part 1) / (Part 2) / (Part 3)

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Blood in the Library

Well, I finished it even though I was planning on posting it tomorrow. Not my grandest piece, but to me it has a delectable taste of whump and a little comfort seasoning. Mmmm yum. You can tell I'm hungry. Anway, this is shorter than normal, but, not to be a spoiler, still has my classic cliffhanger.

Warnings: gorey descriptions of blood, collapse/loss of consciousness, descriptions of murder, begging, descriptions of someone's lack of weight and muscles

~

Then he just... collapsed?

Fell down the stairs in epic slow-mo, eyes turning white just before his head cracked against the concrete surface. Face growing into a snowy blanch as his injuries caught up to his rapidly tiring body.

Civilian rushed forward in a desperate attempt to catch him, but it was an effort close to pointless. He had already fallen deep into a pit of blackness and painless sleep.

Civilian scooped up his fevered body and hugged him close. His bloody head lolled limply across her chest until it settled in the crease of her shoulder, content to just rest there for eternity.

Civilian's eyes scouted his body, taking in the countless bruises and pools of blood. It was a horrendous sight- one that would make a squeamish person retch with revolting nausea. But she wasn't one for that, so she pressed her hands firmly against the worst of the bubbling blood geysers to staunch the streaming flow.

When the blood flow minimized to a manageable amount, she grabbed her phone and proceeded to call the ambulance, but a weak hand stopped her.

Civilian looked down to see fluttering indigo-colored eyes meeting her own rustic browns. They were, indeed, more than beautiful- dare say, gorgeous to some degree. Civilian couldn't help but admire them. The way green swirled into navy... it was a sight that she didn't want to stop seeing.

But of course, her wish was denied when the poking and prodding of the situation reminded her that the injured man was awake and quite distressed.

"No," he begged. "No...nnn, no stop stop... phsl-phslease please no." His shaky hand floated about aimlessly, but the dark azure eyes guaranteed the intensity of the weakly said plea.

For a split second, Civilian was dumbfounded before realizing that she needed to comfort and soothe the man.

"Hey," she set down the phone. Immediately, the man's anguished features relaxed, looking approvingly at the laid phone.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," she told him, not quite understanding his sudden placidity- the painless look of serenity in those irises. It was as if all agony faded with the simple gesture, but the quivering of his lips and sporadic twitches determined otherwise.

"Not that," he slurred in incomplete syllables, his eyes closing despite his best efforts to stay conscious.

"Okay," Civilian went to pick up her phone again, to call the much needed paramedic, but a sudden outburst from the man made her drop the phone, startled.

"No amb'lanch," he cried, but it was a waste if energy. His head dropped back against her, eyes rolling backwards once again. Civilian shook him to the waking world.

"Who are you?" She asked as if that would give her some clearance about not calling the ambulance.

"Villain..." He mumbled, slurred and incoherent, but Civilian heard it as if it was screamed at her. Then, his eyes shut all the way and he was lost to the world.

Civilian dropped the man and scurried to her feet, hands grappling at her cheeks. It was... Villain. One of the most feared criminals in the whole city. The one who strung people up by wires to slowly kill them in the most gruesome way possible.

The one that even heroes didn't dare to cross.

And he was passed out at her feet, bleeding and barely breathing.

She should've turned him in. Turned him in so that the proper authorities could finally arrest the menace that plagued the city- especially now that he was subdued and probably very compliant.

Yet... he was shivering. Shivering from the cold, exhaustion, and pain. It would be merciless to leave him to suffer- possibly die- alone. Civilian had some morals affer all.

Villain didn't. That much was clear from the way he razed cities to the ground. It was clear from the way he mercilessly slaughtered innocents. And it was more than clear when he threw bombs in front of traffic to kill and destroy everything within a half mile radius.

But he was injured.

But he had killed so many others without even blinking an eye.

No one else had to die.

Now, Civilian was not a model of muscles. She was more accurately described as a "bag of bones". Heck, some people even told her to go to a doctor- she had grown in size since then, but still.

So, linking her arms and dragging the villain a foot unlocked new muscles that she didn't even know she had. Not that she had the muscles, but after walking just a little bit, she was exhausted and sore.

"How?" She sighed and slumped down to the ground. The villain was still asleep, not bothered by the ninety degree turn Civilian maneuvered him in.

The library that Civilian volunteered at was lazily sitting itself against the sunset in a silhouetted painting. The stairs leading up to it- the ones Villain fell down- weren't too tall... ish? No, they towered over the pair, guarding the marbled building. White pillars supported the small tiled canopy with vigor, giving the quaint building a classic Roman Empire vibe.

Inside was a small isolated office where Civilian spent her lunch break. It had an expresso machine to satisfy her zealous cravings for the brunette liquid with white creamer topping.

It also had a couple comfortable bean bags that were perfect for the villain to recline upon until he woke up. It wasn't like Civilian was planning on actually tending to the vibrant red gashes. Dragging him to a heated room was enough- a gifted treasure to the villain, she believed- and it would be unlawful to go any further.

It took maybe an hour until the fit figure and skinny one barged through the glass door- the only portion of the exterior that did not hold that Pompeii look. Civilian was dripping with sweat, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Villain had not moved. His face was still and lubricant.

Civilian laid Villain upon the red castle-like carpet that spread through the hallway of the library before shutting the dark sky out, closing the door and locking it.

She then took Villain to the earlier mentioned office with more ease for the red carpet made him slide like a bolt drenched in WD-40. She opened the office. Thankfully, unlike every other room in the building, the walls barricading it were made of plaster, not transparent diamond-shaped panel windows.

She laid him upon a gray beanbag and assessed his wounds before turning to leave.

But a small whimper made her spin back around.

Villain was awake, taking in his surroundings with dazed interest- not really understanding, but realizing his situation, or dilemma, depending on what his half-delirious mind thought. Finally, after a few slow moments of searching the walls for some hidden answer, those dazzling- and slightly familiar- eyes landed on the tiny body of Civilian.

Civilian didn't know what to say. Any statement her mind conjured was shot down with a contradicting question of "what if he asks this" or "won't that make me seem like I care for him".

So she settled on a simple question that anyone would've ask anyone.

"How are you feeling?"

The villain took a while to make sense of the peculiar question. He was, in fact, never asked that from anyone.

Not even-

He shuddered, not wanting to think of the one person who might've once cared for him.

"Weird," the villain replied, eyes shifting downwards to study the masterpiece done on him. Like paint, once it dried on the flesh-covered canvas, it would be an artist's hard work.

The end result.

"Like how?" Civilian wondered, despite her natural instincts to leave.

"Dizzy? Pain, hurts. Don't know," Villain forced himself to meet those kind looking eyes.

"You lost a lot of blood," Civilian answered, setting her body next to his. "I'm pretty sure these need stitches."

Villain nodded, blue eyes ragged with an uncharacteristic emotion. Fear, almost.

"You... Civ'lian?" Villain slurred, his body threatening to shut down once again.

"Yes," Civilian replied. "I am. And you are Villain." The words tasted like hot sauce in her mouth. She just admitted outloud to herself that she was caring for a villain. The most notoriously evil villain in the city, if that fact wasn't stated enough.

"Know you..."

"No, I think you are delirious."

"No. Know you," the villain asserted.

"Okay... who did this to you?" Civilian asked, watching the rapidly fading Villain's face.

"My boss and m' brother," the villain responded, his eyes slipping shut. "...Hero."

The world seemed to stop as the last word was uttered. Hero?

Those eyes. The familiar captivating gaze held in those blueberry-flavored irises. The notable green swirls, speckles of black dust... those were Hero's eyes.

Those were her boyfriend's eyes.

[paragonrobits]

A few AtLA takes I’ve heard of lately that I just have to address.

“aang should have let go of Katara to grow as a character” Firstly, and before everything else, he did. otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to access the Avatar State on his own. It is explicitly stated that the only reason he COULDN’T throughout season three was because of an energy blockage caused by his injuries, and his fight with Ozai produced some high velocity acupuncture to deal with that problem.

Letting go, in this case, does not constitute ‘losing the ability to feel romantic attraction and love for’. Letting go constitutes not prioritizing her well-being over the world, or at least not having that be his most important focus. Discussion on this topic is probably best left to people who understand the nature of the chakras, or at least the real life religious views that the show takes inspiration from, but I have gathered that it’s a great deal more complicated than the simplified takes often seen here.

“Jet shouldn’t have died” honestly, I don’t get why people are so fixated on this guy; he only appears in a handful of episodes, he’s a pompous and obnoxiously cocky guy in almost all of them, and he was just never that interesting to me. but, okay, people react differently to characters. there’s other factors at play besides personal dislike or likes.

And an important fact is this: the series concerns a war. In war, people die.

His death is not a moral judgment, or an aesop. Rather, there’s a point to be made that there is no meaning to random death. It happens; when nonbenders get into a fight with benders, they die. Jet most likely died a horrific, slow and painful death from internal bleeding as a result of the effective leader of his country treating him as an obstacle to be removed. It’s unfair, horrible and also true enough to life.

Sometimes a tragedy is just a tragedy. I don’t think there’s a moral here. Sometimes, people die, and there’s not much more to be said than that. Is it fair? Maybe. Maybe not. But in war, people die, whether they are good or not.

“Azula should have been redeemed during the course of the series” let’s analyze this one here.

Azula, the most outright bigoted, Fire Nation supremacist and ruthless people in a culture that is specifically selecting for those traits. Azula, who very explicitly does not care about anyone or anything except her people’s prosperity and her father’s approval, to the point that even her own ambition is a distant third. Azula, who sneers at everyone else as being a ‘barbarian peasant’ and actively takes pleasure in their suffering, confusion and loss.

Azula who, at a very young and developmentally critical age, was throwing rocks at baby turtle-ducks (and this would most likely severely injure or even kill them), burns dolls, and shows absolutely no empathy for her grieving uncle, doesn’t even feel the slightest bit of concern for her cousin’s death in battle, and is positively gleeful about what she claims is her brother’s impending murder.

Azula is many things. But she was not in the right situation to come to Team Avatar’s side during in-series events.

For instance, I’ve seen people claiming that they could have saved her, and as Azula prizes loyalty, she might have turned towards their side. And I have to say: no. She wouldn’t. She would view them as weak, for not dispatching an enemy, or even be angry, believing them to be underestimating her or not taking her seriously. And while she does value loyalty, its as a subset towards something more important to her: immediate utility. They are enemies. She wouldn’t care about their reasons for not killing her, other than that she wouldn’t return the gesture.

Azula, even as a child, is a sadistic bully with so many red flags that she is blatantly just following her father’s example, and she completely buys into Fire Nation propaganda. Ultimately she has no reason to ally with Team Avatar during in-show events. She only cares about her nation’s prosperity, her father’s love, and she believes she HAS his love. Nothing else matters to her. She would have no reason to view Aang and company as anything other than targets or threats.

The most important point here, though, is... you know that plan at the end of the series? That plan to commit genocide upon the entire Earth Kingdom by burning it to the ground with the power of Sozin’s Comet? To kill every single person there and rule over the ashes, to repeat the atrocities they commited upon the Air Nomads a hundred years ago?

That was, specifically, Azula’s idea. And she is distraught and hurt that Ozai doesn’t give her permission to join in. She really, REALLY wanted to participate in another genocide.

This tells you much about her mindset during the events of the series.

[the--sad--hatter]

Red - One-Shot (Loki x Reader)

Pairing: Loki/Reader 

Warnings: Injury, blood, moral compass shifting. 

Summary: When the cost of being a hero is too high, what will become of you? And when you’re on the precipice of change, who’s the person who helps you? 

Scores of hero’s had battled him before you had your turn, and it was only luck that placed you in his path when he was already exhausted. Or maybe it wasn’t luck at all.

 Maybe it was fate.

 Whatever it was, it was the crucible in which your downfall was contained. You might have been an Avenger, a fighter, a hero, but you were not equipped to fight a god and survive, let alone win. But he was already weakened by the Widows bite, his ribs bruised by the Captains Shield, his energy depleted by the witches power, his flesh scorched by Iron Man’s repulsors, his spirit sapped by his brothers ego. He had been battled into near submission and when you drove your dagger into his chest, he could not stop it. The blade pierced his skin, sliding between his ribs with ease, and crimson blood poured from the wound you had inflicted, spilling over your hand.

 His blood was cold, dripping down your wrist like icy water and coating your hand like a scarlet glove.  

You both moved in tandem, looking down at the dagger, each as equally shocked as the other. Your breath crystallised in the cold air as you gasped, heart hammering in your chest. It was in the moment you realised you may have slain Loki, that you realised you really didn’t want to. Fear gripped your heart, squeezing until it hurt so much that you couldn’t breathe.

 Had you just killed someone, killed the god of Mischief?

 “You missed.” He whispered, his voice filled with sympathy.

 You’d just stabbed him, and he was showing you sympathy? You dragged your eyes away from the terrible wound you’d inflicted, from your fingers wrapped around the handle of the blade sticking out of his chest. His words settled over the fog around your mind and seeped through it, until they made some kind of sense.

 “I missed?” You repeated hopefully, pleading with your eyes.

 His face softened exponentially as he gave you a small and fleeting smile.

 “Yes. You did not pierce my heart with your dagger.” He clarified, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and very carefully pulling your hand away until you released your grip on the fateful blade.

 You let him manoeuvre your shaking hand away, trying and failing to swallow down the whimper in your throat as blood continued to pulse out the edges of his wound.

 “Wait! No! Stop!” You yelped as he grasped the handle, stalling him before he could pull it out.

 “I must remove it so my body can begin to heal it.” He sighed, his already pale skin growing paler by the second.

 Right, Asgardian, or something. Not human. He probably wouldn’t bleed to death if he removed it, hopefully. You ignored the incessant buzzing in your ears, vaguely familiar voices demanding information, begging for assurances of your safety. All your attention was reserved for Loki, and for what you had done to him. He yanked the blade out in one swift movement, before you had a chance to prepare for it. Crimson liquid welled up in the gash left behind, streaming out of it in an alarming stream, and your hands moved of their own accord, twisting to press against the wound in a fruitless attempt to keep any more of his blood from spilling out. His blood was, quite literally, on your hands.

 What the hell had you done?

 You had trained for this, every day for months. You had been trained to be a hero by the best of them, but you hadn’t prepared yourself for what it meant to be a killer. Adrenaline and training had pushed you forward in your task, and only when the blade had sunk deep and it was too late, did you realise what your task really was.

 “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You whimpered, choking on the fucking useless apology. “Please don’t die. I don’t want you to die.”

 “You don’t want me to die, or you don’t want to be my killer?” He chuckled weakly, devoid of humour and dripping with weariness.

 But even as he had asked the harsh but fair question, his hand cupped your cheek, gently lifting your face until you met his eyes. There was absolutely no anger in his gaze, none. No rage, no hate, no disdain. Just exhaustion, pain, and sympathy.

 “I don’t want you to die.” You admitted.

 You didn’t want to kill him, you didn’t want to kill anyone, you knew that now. But more than that, you didn’t like that he was hurt, and you couldn’t bear to see him injured any further. He was supposed to be the villain here, but he was the one comforting his attempted assassin, and the hero’s were the one ‘s who had put the knife in your hand and told you where to strike.

 Good and bad weren’t simple concepts right now, they weren’t black and white. They were just red, blood red.

 “In that, we have common ground. I would prefer to survive this as well.” He sassed, and against all odd you found a laugh bubbling out of your chest.

 “There, that’s much better.” He crowed softly, tracing the edge of your smile with his thumb.

 “Why? I hurt you. I…” You whispered against his fingertips.

 “You’re not like the others, you’re not like anyone. Of all those who have hurt me, and there have been many, you are the first to show any kind of remorse. Strong enough to stab a god, and kind enough to cry for him.” He explained. “You are not like them.”

 Your heart had been hanging on by a flimsy thread, but his admittance obliterated it. You could feel the fissure’s running through it, feel it tremble in your chest, and just as it was about to crumble into dust, he wrapped his arm around your waist and strode forwards, leading you with him in some kind of tragic waltz across the battlefield. Darkness fell over the two of you as he backed you into the shadows of a nearby building, pressing you further into the darkness as the sky shook and the familiar figure of Thor fell from the clouds and landed on the concrete.

 Loki’s arms fell away from you and he stepped to the side, letting you see what he’d left behind. You, held aloft in his grip, eyes filled with fear. An illusion, meant for Thor.

 “LOKI!” Thor bellowed. “Unhand her, and face me brother!”

 “Step out of the shadows, show him you are quite safe.” Loki, the real Loki whispered.

 An offer, not a challenge. One you didn’t understand the point of.

 “Or?” You asked.

 “Let The Avengers watch you burn into ash at my hand, and escape them and the life you so clearly do not want.”

 He was offering to kill you. To have your team watch you die. A cruel offer, a dark one, but…

 You didn’t want this life, he was right. And you never really had, you had only gone along with everybody else’s plans for you. You had let Earth’s Mightiest Hero’s mould you, twist you into one of them, suit you up as an Avenger, never once really telling you what that might mean. What it might cost you.

 Cruel, Dark, and Justified.

 “Kill me.” You hissed decisively.

 They would suffer, but they would survive. You weren’t close to them, not really. There would be some guilt, a little anger, and then they would move on. They would be more affected by having lost something to Loki, than actually having lost you. So you didn’t feel a shred of guilt as illusory flames roared to life over your doppelgänger.

 Thor’s roar was all rage, and not pain. His eyes were fixed upon the fake Loki, and not the smouldering remains of what he believed to be you. Loki’s illusion moved in tandem with him, both conjuring a glowing blue cube from nowhere. In the distance you saw the rest of The Avengers converge upon the scene, and you turned your back on them, concerning yourself with the only thing that mattered anymore.

 “Take me away.” You begged, ripping the jacket of your super suit off and pressing it to Loki’s wound.  

 The hero was dead, long live whatever the hell you were going to become now.

 “Come. Freedom awaits us.” Loki whispered in your ear, wrapping his arm around you once again as the world bled into blue.

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[zer0pm]

Imagine if Alucard‘s heart beats loudly only for you.

A/N: WARNING!! This be long!!

Alright, I think it’s safe to say that we all agree that Alucard effin’ deserved better in S3, dammit. I don’t know what the writers were thinking, but if they aimed to place him on his dad’s path, there were better ways to do it. Just saying. Here’s some fluff to give our boy the love he needs.

-

-

Alucard has been awake for some time now, his golden eyes gaze upon the serene look on your face as you slept. He wore a look of longing and adoration as his fingers brush gently across your skin, caressing your back in long strokes. The sensation of his touch stirred you pleasantly in your sleep and you released a familiar and satisfied sigh. The sound made the dhampir’s heart swell along with his ego. Gently, he pulls you further into his embrace with the intent to feel your soothing heartbeat against his chest and allow your warmth to envelop him.

As if out of instinct, you wrap your arms around his slender waist and angle your head to slightly face him. Your ear presses against his chest and he watches you smile at the sound of his heart. Beating only for you.

In that moment, Alucard was in awe. There were very few moments where he had ever felt his own heart pulse within. Although he is half-vampire and therefore possesses a biology that functions differently from humans, that mortal side of him kept his beat faint, even almost non-existent. His father, an age-defining genius, argued that a beating heart has no function within an immortal. His mother, on the other hand, claims that it was his body’s way of telling him that it yearns still for a warmth that only human life can give. Of course, there was a scientific explanation for it; however, his mother, a doctor, an individual of medicine and science, suggests that the secret behind her son’s heartbeats stems from a hidden desire for something...romantic. One that defies rational reason. After nearly choking on his wine listening to her outlandish implication, Alucard outwardly denied such a theory to which she chuckled off humorously along with his father. Despite how the he felt, the idea was firmly planted within Alucard’s mind. It certainly puzzled him, but in time he did not care to waste any further thoughts to understand it then. Until he met you.

After his parents were gone from this world, you stumbled into his life. Or rather, you had picked a fight right outside his castle. He was mourning for both his mother and father, missing the company of his friends Trevor and Sypha, and was slowly slipping into the madness of loneliness and depression until his acute hearing picked up the clashing of swords at his front door. He wasted no time in checking out the commotion, wary that his domain may be under attack and saw you fighting what appears to be two foreign warriors. You seemed to hold your own rather well, but Alucard did not dwell on this and instead shouted at you three to cease your battle.

He demanded an explanation with teeth bared, clearly angered to have his peace disturbed. You were the first to speak up, claimed the two you cross blades with were vampire hunters trying to pass themselves off as hapless travelers in search for training and guidance. You added that, in reality, they take advantage of the hosts who accommodate them and kill them for their own gain. The foreigners denied the accusations and called you a petty highwayman, trying to kill them and take their belongings, fabricating stories with a silver tongue to sway favor.

Alucard looked back and forth between the two parties. He didn’t know who to trust. If it was in his nature, he would have killed you all and get back to wallowing. But he is not that kind of man. The foreigners appeared sincere, a brother-sister pair wandering the world with wide-eyes in pursuit of a greater purpose. Meanwhile, there was you. You, he honestly could not place. But there was something about you that drew him in, and while your story compared to the foreigners seemed incredibly outlandish, he could not find it within himself to immediately conclude that you were lying. You were a curious thing to him.

Alucard somehow felt responsible for the ordeal and thus the burden of resolving it fell on him. He offered the ultimatum, leave or die. It was such a simple plan that could easily unravel the true intentions you and the two foreigners held. And like a fish on a hook, the bait was taken. The foreigners apparently thought they no longer needed to uphold their charade and moved to strike down both you and him with bow and sword raised.

A stupid mistake. And as quickly as they moved, Alucard was faster. With a single thought, his blade answered the unspoken call. A swing, and two bodies fell to the ground with their throats slit. He did not even bother to watch the two foreigners bleed out as he noticed you collapse to your knees. Without showing any reservation, and on pure instinct, he lifts you into his arms and carried you inside his castle towards his mother and father’s laboratory.

He placed you atop one of the cushioned seats and analyzed your injuries. Several cuts and gashes here and there, but nothing severe and you were visibly exhausted. Apparently you were fighting for an extended period of time. Even though Alucard defeated them with ease, you did not have the same combative advantages. He noted first a particularly nasty gash atop your forehead to which he then swiftly proceeded to clean and apply salve on much to your protest.

“It is not as bad as it looks,” you said with a wince.

He ignored you, “When you stop bleeding, I’ll take your word for it.”

You released an indignant huff, but otherwise allowed him to do his work. He felt you watch him from the corner of your eye and wondered then what you were thinking. After a moment of silence, you relaxed before letting out a meek “thank you.”

“It is nothing,” shrugged the dhampir. There was another shortlived pause before curiosity got the best of him. “How did you know of their true nature?” He already had an idea, but wanted to ask regardless if not to have a better understanding of you.

With a deep breath, you regaled your tale. Apparently, the foreigners were taken in by your kin, admitting that they seemed a good, friendly pair of lost travelers just trying to find a place to belong. But one day under the cover of night, they hid away into your kin’s sleeping quarters, seduced them, and slew them before taking off with their valuables. The next day, you returned from the market in time for one of your loved ones to reveal all of this to you before dying in your arms. When you had finished, Alucard could see that tears threatened to spill from your eyes but you managed to restrain through sheer will. He knew you did not want him to see your pain, it was a sentiment he was all too familiar with.

The dhampir spoke before he could stop himself, “Forgive me.”

You shook your head. “It is not your fault, nor was it your burden to bear. I did not want other poor souls to suffer the same fate. Which is why I had to find them and punish them for their crimes before they had the chance to strike again.”

“It seems I am lucky, then. You have my utmost gratitude for coming to my aid.”

“Ha,” you huffed lightly. “You looked like you could have handled them yourself, see past their deception.”

“How do you know I am not simply that naive?”

“Are you?”

Alucard responds, “I confess, I do not know. At the moment, my situation is delicate. I probably would have welcomed any friendly face to my company should they present themselves.”

You seemed surprised by his honesty, even he did not know why he would confess such a thing, but at the moment, he felt that he could trust you. You offered an amicable smile. “In that case, you, sir, owe me. Big.” There was an unmissable, playful glint in your eyes when you said this.

The dhampir laughs, a rumble deep within his chest that resonated in his voice. He has not laughed like that since his adventure with his speaker and hunter. And even then it felt like such a long time ago. “Undoubtedly,” he added with a smirk.

There was a comfortable moment between you two before you casted a glance to one of the open windows that led to the outside. The day was still young. “I should get going, then. Pay my final respects to my kin at home before leaving Wallachia.”

“Leave Wallachia?”, his brow raises. “Where will you go?”

“I’m not sure, really. Anywhere that will allow me to...heal my wounds, I suppose.”

It was in that moment that Alucard was assured of this blooming and unspoken kinship between you and he. He already admitted to himself that he rather liked you and would like to get to know you better, perhaps even allow you to help him combat his loneliness. For this reason, his next words flowed effortlessly.

“You shall stay here.”

You were shocked, clearly taken aback by this unexpected offer and was stumbling with your words of protest, “I-I can’t possibly- You don’t know me, sir.”

“I know that you are selfless, possess a strong moral compass, and went out of your way from God-knows-where to spare me, a stranger, from the machinations of ingrates. You did not need to do so, let alone warn me, yet you did so, anyways.” Alucard closes his eyes for a brief moment in pensive thought before continuing, “I understand what it means to mourn for those you loved deeply. Please. This is the least I can offer, allow me to thank you and give you the space and time to mend your wounds. All of them.”

For a moment, he thought you would refuse and you did not immediately answer. Your brows furrow in deep thought, your lips in a thin line. He was about to apologize for speaking out of turn when you spoke first.

“Very well, then...”, you conceded with a grateful and almost saddened smile. Your eyes met his with sincere intent. “And perhaps you will not have to mend yours alone, as well.”

Ba-dump.

That was the first time Alucard had ever felt his heart do that. It was such a surprising feeling that, in his shock, he thought he was dying. But he was surely fine and became curious to learn what caused it, eyeing you from his peripheral vision. He was certain you did something.

Suddenly, your eyes widened and your body stiffened so fast that Alucard thought you would jump out of the chair. “I’m so sorry, I was so caught up with what happened earlier that I never asked for your name.”

Again, he steals another moment of careful consideration, his golden eyes bore deeply into your gaze before answering, “My friends call me Adrian.”

And thus how your agreement came to be. Some time has passed and during that time, you two have grown closer. Alucard found himself enjoying your company immensely and expressed genuine interest in learning everything about you and you to him. You never seemed bored in his company which pleased him greatly as once he overheard someone describe him as a “cold spot in the room.” He was certain that the person didn’t mean to harm him with these words, but it affected him, nonetheless and Alucard feared that he would be subjected to an eternal life alone. But your presence changed that thought, your kindness and genuity showed him that he did not need to face his depression on his own. He cannot remember a time when he has smiled so much and has you to thank for that. Even as your wounds healed and you had plenty of opportunity to leave, you stayed by his side and continued to be his light. And he did not question you one bit.

Ba-dump.

That alien sensation began to feel familiar to him the longer he is with you. His heart remained still in the beginning yet now every once in awhile, it would pound for a single pulse in your presence, growing in rhythm and intensity as time with you went on until he was certain he could dance to the beat. When you would look his way, it skipped. When you would look away when he caught you, it quickened. It was such a tortuous, wonderous sensation.

His heart stopped completely when you declared that you loved him and it began to pound instantly when he felt the sweet press of your lips against his. Never in his life did he felt the need to breathe until he tasted you. It became too much, too blissfully suffocating that he feared that he could drown within you forever and never rise up again. As if sensing the intensity of his growing addiction to you, you pulled from him and placed your head atop his chest, your ear above his pounding heart.

“I can hear your heartbeat. Is this the human side of you?”

“It is a side only you know.”

It went on like this for some time. As your affection for one another grew intensely, your innocent intimacy turned into a needy hunger. He felt like a starved man each time you two touched each other desperately but had no idea how to sate the burning inside until you gave him his answer by lifting his nightshirt and-

“Adrian?”

The drowsy sound of your voice pulled him from his wonderful reminiscing and his golden eyes met you.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, but...did you sleep at all?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a hint of worry in your voice

He replied reassuringly, “A little bit.”

“Was it that bad?”

He raises his brow at the subtle teasing under your tone. “Actually, I’ve been waiting for you to wake for another round.”

You laughed and would have continued to laugh before your voice was choked by a yawn. Your eyes were beginning to droop again. “I’m sorry, Adrian. As tempting as that sounds-”

He silences you with a chaste kiss upon your lips.

“Shh. I only slightly jest,” he smiles. “Go back to sleep.”

“Only slightly jest,” you teased again.

Alucard lifts you effortlessly to place your body atop his. “It will be a long morning when you wake.”

You looked at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes and a sly curve to your lips. “Promise?” challenged you.

Badump.

When Alucard finally regains himself, he grins at you with a lecherous flash of his fangs and squeezes your bottom generously before pressing you against his hips. The dhampir now has a newfound restlessness and was making you aware of you of it. His smirk curved with pride at your blush from the feel of him.

“Sleep, you idiot,” he commands lowly before placing a final and firm kiss upon your lips then tucking the top of your head beneath his chin. Although you huffed in slight frustration yourself, you listened to your love and fell back to sleep with a content and impatient sigh.

It was moments like these before the break of dawn when nothing else in the world mattered but the two of you lying together in complete peace, your hearts beating in blissful harmony- did he find happiness renewed.

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Fic: Wayward Souls

(Over the Garden Wall in FusionFall, requested by @tonixman, might be due for a part ii because I kinda like this idea.)

As another soldier spawned from the nearby Resurrect ‘Em in a flash of gold fire, Wirt asked himself yet again why he was even there.  He couldn’t fight on the battlefield: All he could do was help the ones who did during recovery.  And, for the most part, that was a joke since the Resurrect ‘Ems did most of the work.

The newly revived fusion fighter was unconscious--maybe it was their first time or they suffered a particularly bad death.  One of the other field aids dragged them onto a nearby mat to rest, double-checking them for injuries in case the process wasn’t complete. That too was just a formality at this point. So long as the Resurrect ‘Em worked, the body should be completely healed.  The real issue was that it took people a little longer to catch up to their own deaths mentally.  

Wirt watched on the sidelines as their helmet and armor was removed, and all of a sudden pictured Sara lying in their place.  Right: Other than the seriousness of the invasion, that was good reason for him to be there.  His crush had joined the war effort as soon as she could sign-up.  If he couldn’t protect the people he cared about on the warfront, the least he could do was offer some support.

Someone called for him, pulling him out of his thoughts, “We’re out of tea.  Brew another batch.”

“Right!”  He jogged over to the table of outdoor appliances to get to work.  At first, it annoyed him a little that they set up this camp just outside of a suburb when they could be working from any of the homes open to fusion fighters--they were even in-view. He got used to it though, considering himself to be in a much better position than the ones who barely gave themselves the time to dust off before charging into battle once again.  The aids needed to be just as swift and prepared.

While there was often at least one medic among them, their main job was to brace soldiers after resurrecting.  Denied the rest typically given after dying, their souls needed to recover most.  Assuring them that they were alive and well, offering small comforts until they could spring back to their feet, were everyday tasks.  

Granted, to do that, they used some not-so everyday means.  As Wirt stared at practically glittering contents stewing in the tea kettle, he inwardly winced.  He’d stopped looking at the ingredients for things a long time ago, finding one too many of Underworldly origins that disgusted him. It was better not to know. 

He’d just about finished up when he spotted a familiar, tiny figure running down the hill from the streets above, an unruly patch of brown hair bobbing above a river of tall grass. 

“Hey, Wirt!  Wirt!” Greg beamed as he reached the table, holding up a plastic bag, “Woo-woot!! The choco-train has reached the station!”

Wirt spotted a handful of empty wrappers mixed in with the candy where clearly his little brother had helped himself, but didn’t mention it.  In the past, he might’ve scolded him, but he’d grown to be more patient.  He played along with a soft smile, motioning to the soldiers resting nearby, “Good work, Conductor Greg.  Think you can finish delivering the goods?”

“Aye, aye!”  Just like that, he was off, darting from person-to-person to give each of them a piece. Their parents wouldn’t let Greg officially sign-up for the war, but he came to help Wirt nonetheless.  He’d become a regular face for Wirt’s co-workers, and since the areas surrounding Resurrect ‘Ems were usually safe, they didn’t mind the visits.

Part of recovery was inspiring soldiers to use their five senses--almost like how one might for anxiety.  It helped ground them within their own bodies.  If the soldiers were unconscious, Greg left their treats lying next to them.  He made sure everyone--including the aids and any nanos that hung around--had some candy before walking back to dump the rest of the bag onto the table. 

By then, Wirt had walked away with the kettle in-hand, passing it off to his senior.  Left to himself once more, another, typical thought entered his mind as he looked around for something else to do: He’d gotten far more used to this than any sane person should be.  

Not to say the their world wasn’t weird enough on its own, everyone had some kind of story to tell.  Grappling with death just happened to be his.  For a while, he dismissed everything that happened to him and his brother one Halloween night as nothing more than a dream.  The more time went on though, the more similar dreams he had and the more supernatural things he saw in his waking hours... He started to wonder if their journey through the Unknown hadn’t been some kind of purgatory.  The two of them had nearly drowned, after all, but the idea that they had been that close to dying was hard for him to accept.

Being here, among so many that did die and were only given their second chances because of the war, he couldn’t just dismiss the idea either.  However, the Resurrect ‘Ems were almost instantaneous: When a soldier was killed in-battle, their consciousness only lasted so long outside of their bodies before they woke up in a place just like this one.  Since their souls were bound to the supernatural devices, they had no memory of being anywhere else.  It was direct transfer.  If it wasn’t, well... Without a nano with a revive ability, it typically meant they’d become one of the army’s rare, true casualties. 

In short, whenever he’d asked, no one had ever even heard of the Unknown.  Wirt considered finding an Underworlder to talk to about it, but even if he found answers, he was almost scared of what they’d be.  He wanted to live a long, normal life, without any out-of-body experiences or monsters to trying to take over the planet!  If he pried, he’d probably be giving that up.

Wirt squat down by a young man who wasn’t much older than himself, checking him over.  He looked fine, his breathing steady and no visible signs that he was having a nightmare. It was uncommon, but not out of the ordinary, for some to sleep longer than others upon revival.  The memory of dying alone was enough to cause people to pass out.

There was talk, among the aids, that more people were staying unconscious for longer periods.  Even the haphazard types who became disturbingly familiar to the Resurrect ‘Ems needed more time to rest now.  Since the war dragged on, it was theorized that it could be a kind of widespread weariness: Morale was low and people were getting tired, their bodies responding in-kind.

He glanced over his shoulder to where the newcomer still lay.  They hadn’t woken up yet either, but at least they were stirring.  Hopefully, they’d be up soon.

He was about to get up when a quiet tune froze him to his very core.  Someone was humming softly: Another fusion fighter--a girl--was sitting up on her mat with her back to Wirt, looking at holograms.  He watched her in silence until her hums turned to whispered words:

“Come wayward souls that wander through the darkness, There is a light for the lost and the meek, Sorrow and fear are easily forgotten When you submit to the soil of the earth...”

Memories of a deeper, distant, and far-less pleasant voice filled his mind.  He raced over to her, taking her by the shoulder so abruptly that he startled her.  However, the way she jumped was nothing compared to the horror that rose inside him.  

Wirt fought to reign his nerves back as he asked, “H-how do you know that song...?”      

She blinked at him, confused by his outburst before turning inward.  She couldn’t seem to answer that for herself, no matter how much she tried to think.  Her eyes drifted to the ground innocently, “I don’t know... I must’ve heard it somewhere.”

He really hoped she hadn’t.  

Continue to Part 2

[severetimetravelnerd]

Hatred and Love (ft. G Dragon) Mafia AU

Part 11

Jiyong sees the start of a surprising new movement.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime​

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast​

@kwonnansi​

@aarfyie​

@suhappysuho​

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Now, things start to switch up with EXO. It has appearances from Daesung, Taeyang, TOP, Mino, Hanbin and EXO (mostly Kai). This continues with the EXO storyline, but again, I have nothing against EXO :)) I love them, but I had to use someone for the plot. This chapter has the introduction of the other EXO members.

Warnings: Violence, Death(not main character), Injury, Blood, Eventual smut, Abduction, Guns and Knives, language.

————————————————————————–

One would think you’d be happier. Safer. At peace. You had moved out of that house and were staying at Hanbin’s apartment. You had gotten away from the toxic environment. You were no longer being used as a tool between the two gangs. You were away from the violence. You were away from Jiyong. You hated it. You never believed in those ‘fleeting connections that last a lifetime’, but you couldn’t handle being away from Jiyong. You loved him too much to leave him. You wanted to put yourself first, and you did, but somehow, you felt like you were losing out by pushing him away. You tried to keep your mind off things. You tried to feel grateful, but honestly, as you went about your day, the only feeling you had was one of great longing.

 Jiyong, on the other hand, was living a weird life. He focused all his sadness and loss into defeating EXO, but when he wasn’t working, he was just so hopelessly lost. Only his closest friends saw him in that condition because if anyone else did, they would have thought he had gone insane. He lost the will to do anything, simply staring at things all day, desperately clinging on to memories of you. He began spending his evenings alone in his room, slowly putting together albums of the two of you together from the blurry, sleepy selfies on his phone. It was the only way he saw you. He was about to go to bed one night when Youngbae burst in again. Jiyong, eyes dead, stared at him, hoping desperately it was not for any reason like the last time, but more than anything else, Youngbae seemed confused. Puzzled, he said, 

“Jiyong, you need to see this.”

 And gestured down the stairs. Jiyong quickly bound his hands, not wanting to get bloody knuckles and followed him, prepared to harm anyone who posed a threat to you and your safety. He only stopped to think when he saw Jongdae, Baekhyun and Chanyeol sitting there, bound and gagged to three chairs

Jiyong sat down across from them, seeing their eyes unwillingly fill up with fear. A while ago, he would have enjoyed it, but now, things were different. He took a long, hard look at the three of them. Jongdae had a wife and a child. Baekhyun was known to be bad at fighting. Chanyeol tried to keep away from violence. Why would those three turn themselves in to him? He uncuffed his shirt and got up, moving closer to them. He walked up to them and while he only reached out to remove Baekhyun’s gag, Baekhyun flinched. For the first time ever, he took on a soft voice while dealing with mafia. 

“Relax. I’m just removing this so you can talk.” 

They just watched him suspiciously when he moved on to remove Chanyeol’s and Jongdae’s gags as well. Jiyong slowly walked back and sat down, crossing his legs and staring at them. He lit up a cigarette and said,

 “So, would you care to explain to me why the three of you came here, unarmed and unbugged, to meet me? I would have said you had a death wish, but if that were the case, you would have tried to provoke me already.” 

Baekhyun nervously nodded at Jongdae and Chanyeol, and started, 

“We have a proposition.”

 Not looking up, Jiyong stared at the cigarette in his hand, remembering the last time you told him to quit. 

“What proposition?”

 Jongdae spoke up, the only vaguely calm voice out of the three of them.

 “EXO is suffering serious losses because of Joonmyeon hyung’s insistence on fighting you guys. We know we’re the ones who started it, because Y/N was never Jongin’s girlfriend.” 

He paused, his voice sounding ever so slightly pained. 

“And EXO has changed. Joonmyeon hyung can’t see what his spite towards you is doing to everyone around him.” 

Jiyong looked up and met Jongdae’s gaze. 

“We’ve left EXO to join you. We think it’ll be better for both groups if we merge.”

 Jiyong laughed. 

“You said it yourself. EXO is suffering serious losses. How would it help me in any way to merge with you?” 

Baekhyun and Jongdae both flinched at that, but Chanyeol spoke up for the first time. Eyes dead serious, he said,

 “It would stop the bloodshed.”

 Jiyong’s smile was wiped off his face. That was worrying him. Although he was clearly winning over EXO, a lot of his men had suffered injuries. Mino was walking around with a stab wound. You were unsafe. He had to put an end to it somehow. Chanyeol continued. 

“We also have numbers.”

 He turned and looked at the other two. Gulping, he decided to take a risk. He didn’t know whether the others would follow their path, but it was worth a shot. 

“Minseok hyung and Kyungsoo will join you in a while. With us, all our men will also come here. You know we were good at what we did before we started this war with you.” 

Jiyong, eyes deadly, took out his knife and asked,

 “How do you know I won’t kill you for coming here?” 

Chanyeol, eyes confident, replied, 

“Because you didn’t kill Jongin.” 

Jiyong’s eyes turned cold. 

“Jongin saved the person who means the most to me in the world.”

 Although his heart was pounding out of his chest, Chanyeol replied. 

“And that same person changed you for the better. You don’t kill needlessly anymore.” 

Jiyong just stared at him, silent. He looked down at the cigarette in his hand, suddenly squashing it. You did ask him to quit. He stared at the crushed cigarette, thinking about how before he met you, he would have killed someone for saying that. After he met you though, it made him feel better that he couldn’t kill needlessly. That meant he had less chances of hurting you, after all. He sighed. Chanyeol was right. He stood up, about to walk out of the door when Jongin burst in, panting. 

“Jiyong hyung, don’t kill them. Please.”

 With a wry smile on his face, Jiyong said,

 “Who said I’m going to kill them?”

 He turned to the two men standing guard. 

“Go untie them and show them the two free apartments near Hanbin’s place. Treat them well. They’re your brothers now.” 

 Jongin couldn’t believe his ears. He was terrified Jiyong had an ulterior motive. He ran and caught Jiyong’s hand. 

“Hyung, they’re not going to give away EXO secrets. Don’t torture them for it.” 

Jiyong turned around with a slight smile on his face. 

“Jongin, if they had come here telling me they’d spill all of EXO’s secrets, I’d have shot them right there. We don’t need people I can’t trust here.”

 A month later and Chanyeol was proven right. Minseok and Kyungsoo did join them after a while. They couldn’t handle Joonmyeon, Sehun and Yixing ruining EXO right in front of them for their obsession with Jiyong. No one in EXO could handle seeing their friends lose touch with reality and become worse by the day. They decided to merge with Jiyong’s gang, but only on one condition. Even if they do catch Joonmyeon, Yixing and Sehun, no one would harm them. They would be welcomed too. EXO liked working with Jiyong. They liked the people there. Of course, they knew something was wrong with Jiyong because he just became a shell of the man he once was, but they also saw the ways you had changed him. He was a better person after meeting you, not that you had ever asked him to change for you. He wanted to become your safe space. He never wanted to see you scared of him again. He never wanted to cause you pain. He wanted to be the kind of person you wouldn’t question yourself for loving. And so, he stopped killing without reason. He stopped seeming so unapproachable. He looked into the moral grounds of the jobs he took. Sure, that might make him less popular, but everyone knew he was the best in the business. He would just work harder to protect what he already had. He changed a lot, but one thing did not change. He would take the most ruthless of decisions to get what he wanted. And what he wanted right then was to stop Joonmyeon, Yixing and Sehun because the longer they were around, they more danger you were in. He kept on pushing them relentlessly, never giving them a moment to catch their breath. He was forcing them into being careless, and the more careless they were, the faster he would catch them. He had to. He had to keep you safe. He had pinky promised you that he would.

 Jiyong knew that he didn’t want to live a life without you, but he couldn’t be so selfish to ask you to come back, knowing fully well how risky that would be for you and how sad it would make you. He hated his life without you, but he thought he should be proud of his decision to accept that he was bad for you and let you go. If that were the case though, why did he feel so bad about it? Why were you the only thing keeping him going? It was impossible for the people close to him to miss the fact that he had changed. They were all worried sick about him. He was obsessively trying to stop EXO so that you weren’t in danger. He wasn’t sleeping. He was barely eating. He was not himself anymore. Youngbae couldn’t say anything, because no matter how many times he tried telling Jiyong to go talk to you, he refused, saying he wasn’t going to be selfish. Mino, Daesung and Seunghyun; they had all tried talking to him, but he didn’t listen to any of them, telling them that it was better for you if you were away from him. The only one who hadn’t said anything to him was Hanbin. Hanbin was conflicted. He didn’t know what to do. He was so bloody furious with his hyung when he first heard what he said to you. He was pained. He was pained his hyung couldn’t keep his promise to you. He thought it would be better for you this way, especially if Jiyong had lied to you about not killing your uncle. He thought you were getting a better shot at life. But he was wrong. He was watching you waste away, little by little, as you became more lost. Jiyong was the first person you had ever felt that way about. You loved him too much. You couldn’t handle being away from him. You couldn’t handle not knowing whether he came home safe at the end of the night. You couldn’t handle not being able to wake up and crawl into his arms in the morning. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were struggling to get through the day. And Hanbin didn’t want to see that. As it is, he was struggling from seeing his hyung like that. He also found out his hyung hadn’t killed your uncle. Youngbae hyung told him that although your uncle had been killed, it was another gang that did. your uncle owed them money. Jiyong was just getting the blame for it. If you weren’t doing better without him, then there was no point. He needed to talk to Jiyong. He needed to tell his hyung that you needed him back.

 It was late, meaning Jiyong hyung would be tired. Hanbin gulped. That’s not the best-case scenarios, but he needed to tell him. After all, it was a long overdue conversation. He knocked on the door. He heard Jiyong voice, sounding tired. That wasn’t a good sign. Hanbin winced. Oh well, he had to go ahead with it anyway. 

“Hyung?”

 “Come in.” 

Hanbin walked in a little hesitantly, surprised to see Jiyong pouring over floor plans of a building. It was Joonmyeon’s supposed hideout. Jiyong looked up and gave Hanbin a small smile. This was the first time Hanbin had come to see him since you left.

 “What is it Hanbin?” 

Hanbin took a deep breath. 

“Hyung… you know something? Y/N hates you.” 

Jiyong flinched. He knew you didn’t want to be with him, but he hadn’t known you hated him. Hanbin continued. 

“You know why? She hates you for letting her go.” 

Jiyong’s eyes, for the first time since you left him, lit up. He sounded confused. 

“What’re you saying? She was right when she said she shouldn’t be treated that way.” 

Hanbin nodded.

 “You’re right. No one should be treated that way. But how has that got anything to do with you not stopping her from leaving?”

 Jiyong’s eyes were slowly lighting up even more, but he still sounded unsure when he said, 

“But she deserves a better life.”

 “Why does that have to be without you?”

 He still looked a little unsure, but at the same time, he looked like there was nothing he wanted more.

 “Hyung, listen to me. She can’t stand living without you. She needs you back. So, go back to her.”

 Jiyong looked unsure for a second, but then he decided to give in. He would beg you to take him back. You could make that final decision on your own. He didn’t need to make it for you. Without saying another word, Jiyong got up and started walking down, as though in a trance. He just needed to make it to your apartment. He was about to walk out of the door when he heard a loud slap followed by manic laughter. He heard Sehun’s distinct voice laughing and saying, “You captured Yixing hyung. You may have captured me, but in the process, you fell for our trap. Your precious Y/N, the woman who caused all of this mess? Yeah, she’ll be dead by the time you get to her now. You won’t be able to recognise her after Joonmyeon hyung is done with her.”

[trashyeggroll]

😙 prompt me as hard as you want

And YEAH I’m cherry-picking the order, but not skipping 😌

#38 - Lie

trashy’s note: I have watched the movie a handful of times and seen the extended scene with The Kneel, but it’s still unclear to me exactly how much Grace knew about being sent to the past—hence, this!

There was never quiet, anymore.

Dani Ramos remembered the concept well. Quiet nights walking home from the factory, long after Diego had punched his card. She remembered the stillness of her apartment complex, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in the misty morning hours. The way the rural expanses of road around her hometown seemed like another world, contrasted against the gleaming machinery of the auto plant.

But after Judgment Day, a truly new world emerged, and Dani wondered if she’d ever know that peace again. Legion never slept, and even if they weren’t aware of the Resistance’s exact locations, the Terminators and their ships were constantly roaring across the sky, with no need for subtlety. They were the dominant sentients in this world, after all. Explosions and the subsequent earthquakes from Legion’s quest for metals to replenish its armies were nearly as constant, whether shaking debris loose from walls or just a low, distant rumble. And on the worst days and nights, the notes between the battles were filled with the sounds of human suffering, pain and hunger and grief alike.

Tonight, Dani almost felt like joining them in the plaintive groans and wails. The day had been as loss-filled as any other, but there was also a rare win. It’d been a long time coming, hanging over the Commander’s head like a guillotine blade... Well, not exactly over Dani’s head.

She was sitting near the fire in her quarters at Resistance Base 473. They had safe areas all around the region, but never stayed in them for more than one night, to avoid a large-scale attack. In 473, which was mostly underground in old subway tunnels, Dani took rare advantage of her position for the private space, which looked to have been some sort of control room in a past life. It had a table, the fireplace, and a straw mattress piled with thick wool blankets... currently draped over the impossibly tall, sleeping form of Grace, whose feet were endearingly sticking out of the covers and touching the floor. She didn’t sleep often, after the augmentation procedure, and so Dani was watching her from her chair, enjoying the rare sight of Grace’s delicate features when her guard was completely down.

For years, Dani had managed to avoid telling Grace about the crisscrossing timelines. She knew that the Grace who’d shown up to save her life before Judgment Day was somewhere in her twenties, and augmented. So in her desperation to keep Grace safe, Dani had tried to stop her from joining the engineering division. She’d tried to keep her away from combat, to put as many barriers between Grace and herself as she possibly could... but just as dauntless as she was in the face of a REV-9, she was unstoppably dedicated to the Commander. And no other fighter, no matter how desperately Dani wanted them to succeed, had shown that they had what it took to be the Protector. Most of those whom Dani began to hope could be sent back had quickly been killed, in fact.

The sleeping Grace sighs and rolls slightly, the blankets falling away from her pale shoulder and exposing the even-paler scars from her augmentation. Technically speaking, she had already died once for Dani, whose whole plan to trick destiny had fallen to pieces when she took that head injury. The rest... seemed inevitable now. Sand, falling through her fingers.

And it threatened to hurt worse than the first time, when Grace had been a stoic stranger who’d shown up just when Dani’s world got turned upside-down. This time, Dani knew Grace as so much more. She’d seen the way those blue eyes could light up with joy, the crew joking together over dinner, and memorized the stutter of her laugh. They’d suffered meager victories and deep losses together, and Dani had never trusted a human being, other than her father and brother, as much as she trusted Grace in all things.

When she’d woken up from her head injury, confused and hurting, Grace hadn’t been there, and the disappointment and fear that stabbed at her heart had been almost enough to knock her out again. Eventually, she glared at the doctor long enough to be told about the crash, and the augmentation. It’d been weeks before they were well enough to regroup with the main forces, and Dani had unleashed on Grace the moment they were alone. She’d been so overcome with grief that she didn’t quite remember what it was she said, but the message had been clear: I didn’t want this for you.

The newly-enhanced Grace, of course, had stood at attention, spine straight, and weathered every word without flinching, until Dani demanded of her, Why?

“Because protecting humanity is my duty,” Grace had said, quietly. “And because nobody is going to protect you like I do.”

“Morales, Dinh, Ahmed—I have the best fighters in my unit.”

“Would you have rather I died that day?”

There was a heavy, dark moment where Dani almost said yes. For Grace to find peace. For Dani to not have to make a choice, when the time came, and send Grace to a third death. But the most human part of her, the messy, selfish bits of being a person that they were fighting to save from Legion’s machine coldness... wanted as much time with Grace as she could get. As much of Grace as she could get.

She didn’t quite remember who leaned forward first, but Dani was suddenly giving in to more of her mortal feelings, rocking up on her tiptoes as Grace’s arms folded over her waist, and their lips connected. It felt so good to give in, after all the worry and fear and withholding, and it wasn’t long before she was panting against Grace’s mouth, pulling at the buckles of her uniform, impatient and near-frantic at the feel of Grace’s tongue licking into her mouth, the strong hands lifting her cleanly off the floor to press the Commander into the wall, with one of Grace’s knees pushing between her legs.

They’d managed to keep their furtive, late-night “meetings” mostly quiet, if for no other reason than to not be a distraction to their operation, but before long, Grace was sleeping in the same bed with her every night, and Dani... Dani hated how much she’d come to find solace in it. Not just the physical activity, but also the after, falling asleep with Grace curled around her, Dani’s head on her chest. Waking up to Grace’s ridiculous bedhead, and the precious minutes between sleep and wakefulness, when they could be lazy and sluggish and cling to each other for just a few seconds longer.

But like the crocodile who followed Captain Hook, the team working on their one-way time travel device were getting ever-closer to unlocking the secret, racing against Legion. Grace knew someone needed to go back to protect Dani, and she’d volunteered herself dozens of times, though the Commander had always answered with, “We’ll see.”

The missing part of that was Dani’s great shame. Grace hadn’t asked, and probably considered it a possibility... but Dani knew. The Grace that would go back to save her would die, and despite all her efforts to stop the world from reaching this point, it seemed ever clearer that the loop would proceed as she remembered it. For all the times Dani had stood up to her own death and defeated the odds, for all the stories people told about her... She couldn’t tell Grace what would happen. The words would fail on her lips, every time.

Dani tore her eyes away from Grace when a synthetic log in the fire popped loudly, nearly startling her, and when she looked back, sleep-reddened blue eyes were blinking open and sharpening with consciousness.

“Hey,” greeted the Commander when Grace’s eyes found her.

“Hey. What are you doing over there?”

Dani shrugged, but got to her feet and shuffled over to the bed. “Couldn’t sleep. The engines are loud tonight.”

“I can’t believe I slept,” muttered Grace, sitting up and rolling her neck. “I need to talk to Chopra about my cocktail.”

“You deserved a good sleep.”

Grace grinned up at her, in that way that was so absurdly contrary to her status as an apex killer, and Dani felt heat pull at the back of her eyes. The blonde’s brow furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Other than the usual. Impending total annihilation.” Dani sniffed, and she let Dani tug her down into the bed, resting her head against Grace’s shoulder.

“Mmm. Well... might I suggest you let me distract you, for a little while?”

The Commander’s mood was dour enough, that she almost protested, but Grace pulled her into her lap, kissing along her jaw as her hands dropped to stroke across Dani’s thighs.

Despite the passing years, Dani still didn’t have answers to questions of fate, and free choice, or destiny. But she did know that to give up, or put the individual over the species, would be a waste of all the sacrifice that had brought them to this precipice. So she put Mexico City, 2019, out of her mind, and she relaxed against Grace’s muscular chest, to live fully in the momentary peace, despite the stakes. Hay más tiempo que vida.

[rewiredthethirdblog]

Comment by pepperjones926 on Reddit

The New London School Explosion. On the afternoon of March 18, 1937, the shop teacher at the school in New London, TX turned on an electric sander. Unbeknownst to him, there was a massive natural gas leak under the school. The sander sparked, which ignited the gas and caused a massive explosion that killed almost 300 students and teachers. It was absolutely horrific. The force of the explosion was so great that a two ton block of concrete crushed a car parked 200 feet away. This event is actually why natural gas has a smell now. They started adding it after the explosion so that something like this couldn’t ever happen again.

My grandfather was actually one of the survivors of the explosion. He never talked about it, even to his own family, so I didn’t really know too much about it (other than the fact that he’d survived) until after his death. Toward the end of his life, he’d suffered a series of strokes that left him pretty physically incapacitated, so my dad had given him a voice-activated tape recorder and suggested maybe he could record his memoirs for his grandkids to listen to someday. As it turns out, he did. We have hours and hours of cassette tapes of him telling the story of his (actually very interesting) life, including a big section on the New London school explosion. For the sake of everyone’s privacy, I’ll call my grandfather Papa and use an initial for anyone else.

Papa was in eighth grade when it happened, in his English class at about 3:00 PM on a Thursday afternoon. At the beginning of class, Papa and his buddy T had been messing around and being loud in the back of the classroom (as eighth grade boys often do). His teacher, Miss M, had enough of their disruptions and made Papa switch seats with another student. He moved into the girl’s desk in the front row, and she moved back into his desk in the back of the room. When the school exploded, they were taking a test on the book Ivanhoe. Papa was knocked out for a short time, and when he woke up, he couldn’t see anything because the dust was so thick. He looked down and saw that his pencil had blown clear through his hand. When the dust cleared, he saw that the whole back of the room was gone. I won’t go into details, but there were bodies (and parts of bodies) everywhere. The students in the front half of the room survived. The students in the back half did not. That included Papa’s friend T and the little girl who’d been forced to take Papa’s desk because of his misbehavior at the beginning of class. If he hadn’t been acting up, he would have been killed and she would have lived. He carried the guilt of her death until the day he died.

Papa’s classroom was on the second floor. There wasn’t any way to get to the room other than the open cavity of the explosion. After the few seconds of initial shock wore off, he and another classmate jumped into action. They were the only two kids in the class who hadn’t been badly injured. They made a tourniquet out of a sock and a shoelace for a girl with a severe injury to her arm and dug out their teacher, who was alive, but badly injured. By then, men were running up underneath the hole, so Papa and the other boy started lowering the injured to them. Then those who could walk, including Papa, climbed down. He ran off to look for his older brother, B, to see if he was OK.

As it turned out, B had been supposed to be in Geometry class. However, he and his buddy had snuck out to go fishing. The explosion happened as they were opening the door to head out to the parking lot. The force of the blast sent them tumbling head over foot across the lot. They were both banged up and dazed, but they survived. The rest of their Geometry class was killed. I don’t know that there’s a moral in the fact that both my grandfather and his brother survived because they were misbehaving that day. I do know that it weighed very heavily on both of them for he rest of their lives.

There’s a lot more to his story about the day and the aftermath (most of it absolutely horrific), but I won’t go into all of it here. A few small tidbits though:

- Papa and the boy who helped him rescue the other students from their classroom were both awarded medals and certificates of valor for their actions that day.

- Nearly every family in town lost a child - some all of their children. I’m sure you can imagine the extreme toll this took on everyone’s mental health. Papa described New London in the months following the explosion as a “town with no children.” To help with the healing process, the oil companies actively recruited families with kids to transfer in, so that there was some sense of normalcy when school started again in the fall.

- Papa had played French horn in the school band. However, when school started up again, he was asked to switch to trumpet, as the entire trumpet section had been killed.

A few years later, my grandfather went on to fight in World War II, and he saw some of the worst conflict in the Pacific (including Peleliu and the liberation of Manila). But he said that nothing he saw during the war was ever as bad as what he saw the day of the explosion. I’m always amazed that more people don’t know about it. It was major international news at the time.

EDIT: Holy cow! I’m overwhelmed by the amount of interest this has brought. Thank you for all of the awards and comments! To address a couple of things people mentioned in the comments:

- There is a small museum at the site of the explosion in New London. If you’re ever out that way, I do recommend checking it out. It is very well done and incredibly moving. My grandfather’s story, while amazing, is just one of many that day.

- A couple people mentioned the telegram from Hitler. Yes, it’s there at the museum. This was a few years before he came into full power, but he was an up-and-coming political figure in Germany at the time. I looked it up online. The original is in German, but the translation reads, “On the occasion of the terrible explosion at New London, Tex, which took so many young lives, I want to assure your Excellency of my and the German people‘s sincere sympathy. - Adolph Hitler, German Reichs Chancellor.”

- I don’t know the details, but I do know from some things my grandmother said, that Papa had some PTSD, both from the explosion and the war.

- We did get the recordings converted to digital files, which we have stored in several safe locations. A number of years ago I under took the project of transcribing everything and putting together a book of my grandfathers total memoirs. In addition to the school explosion, he really lived a fascinating life. As a little kid, he was present for one of the most famous circus disasters of all time (the Corsicana elephant rampage), and he saw some of the fiercest action in the Pacific as an engineer for the Army Air Force during WW2. He also went from being the dirt poor son of an oil field worker to a pretty successful salesman. Later in life, at the same time my dad went to graduate school, Papa decided to go back to school and get his masters as well, which led to a career shift to become a college professor, and he taught in both Louisiana and Hong Kong. He was really a very interesting guy. Sadly, he had his two strokes when I was pretty young, and he died when I was 14, so all of my memories of him are of a pretty ill man in a wheelchair. Working on transcribing his memoirs, I feel like I got to know him better after his death than I ever did in life. I am so thankful for that. I compiled the memoirs into a book that we published just for family members. In addition to my grandfather’s personal photographs (he kept a camera with him all throughout the war), there are a number of pictures that I pulled from online, so we couldn’t publish it as it is due to copyright issues. But maybe someday I will go back and reformat everything to submit to the Library of Congress or for wider distribution.

- You want a happy story about him to help counter the explosion? This is a good one. :-) At the start of WW2, while he was in basic training, a girl named Kitty sent her brother Keith a goofy picture of herself splashing around in the creek behind their family farm in TX. The picture of Kitty caught the attention of Keith's bunkmate, Papa, who decided to write Kitty a smart alecky note of his own, jokingly criticizing her manners for showing her ugly bare feet in public. Kitty was not amused. She wrote him a scathing letter, and received a very apologetic note from Papa in response. This began a written correspondence that continued throughout the war. Papa wrote faithfully from some of the most remote, dangerous locations in the Pacific. She sent him news of the home front and taunted him with descriptions of fried chicken dinners. He sent her pictures of crocodiles and told her of the orphaned children he cared for after the Liberation of Manila. When Papa came back to the US in 1946, he made a trip out to the farm to see his old friend Keith and to finally meet Kitty face to face. That was on a Friday. They were engaged the following Wednesday and were happily married for over 50 years.

Edit #2 for a typo.

Edit #3 - u/The_Essayist_8 brought this video clip to my attention, and it’s a pretty good account of the event. There are firsthand survivor stories, including one quite similar to my grandfather’s situation, only this man traded seats with another student so that he could sit near the girl he liked. He survived, the other student did not. Worth a watch, but be warned that it’s pretty heartbreaking. https://youtu.be/aKt01p3DJRw

[ayma-nidiot]

“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 32

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Chapter 32 - God-Shattering Star

“Oh, cry me a river, Rex!” Weevil glanced to the battle below; many of the Club members had already died. Joey, Mai, Yugi, Téa, Tristan, Atem, and Duke were the only fighters who hadn’t sustained any serious injuries against the massive Earthbound army. Even Phuckdis and William were riddled with gashes, yet refused to retreat with Dr. Balls. “So your allies still cling to life like a drowning man onto a rock. Cute. Not that it will do any of you any good!”

“Rex…” Mako crawled on the floor; luckily for him, Espa retreated from the battle before he got hurt at all. “Don’t listen to him! You’re… hah… You’re the only one who can… save us…”

“Mako, don’t…” It was just then that after recalling the fight with Nortius, Rex had an idea. “Wait a second, Amber.”

“Papa, what is it?”

“I want to try something out. Why don’t we try fusing, just like Mako did with Jinzo?”

“But we don’t even have Polymerization! Those who do either are incapacitated or otherwise occupied! And you can’t even fly… If you fell to your death just like Kaiba, and all because of a stupid and ill-timed experiment, I…”

“Argh, we’ll both die anyway if we do nothing!” Rex pumped his fists in the air. “Show a little bit more Raptor spirit, why don’t you?”

“Papa… Okay. I trust you.” So Amber spoke as she half-shifted, and Rex began a long freefall.

“You really are a blooming idiot, aren’t you?” Weevil would have laughed longer, but stopped when he saw Rex glow pink. “So you think you can- Huh?”

“What’s… What’s happening to my boy?” Ptera wondered as Spinos tended to her wounds.

“Don’t tell me…” Phuckdis began. “Rex is…”

Before Rex could fall very far, Amber had completely fused with him, and he grew angel’s wings that soon turned into Rabidragon’s wings. Even if only by a little bit, the gloomy weather began to dissipate, replaced by an enormous pink glow at the top of KaibaCorp Tower. 

“What is the meaning of this?” The shining presence of Rex - with his bow, fluffy white shirt, golden pants, and Rabidragon’s ears and tail - intimidated Weevil. “Just who do you think you are, that you can challenge me? Well, no matter! I’ll kill you right here, as I intended to do from the beginning! Take this!” 

“...” Rex didn’t say anything as he simply held his bow at his side, and grabbed the chain whip before it could hurt him.

“It’s… Impossible! Aaaah!” Weevil reeled backwards when Rex threw him. “How can a weak rabbit like you stand up to me? ”

“It’s because…” Phuckdis made his presence known. “Rex is the true God-Shattering Star.”

William bowed in reverence with his brother and the remaining members of the Club. “He is the light that will save us all.”

Espa could still see Weevil and Rex, even from his hospital room. “Is that you, Rex Raptor?”

Joey looked up at Rex’s true form with a hint of jealousy. “That’s more powerful than anything I could cook up with the Claw of Hermos. I suppose that runt isn’t as weak as I thought him to be.”

Rex finally opened his now-crimson eyes and began to speak in a distorted voice. “Weevil… No, Earthbound God Sanpedro. I will kill you, right here and now, and free my beloved Weevil Underwood from your clutches.”

“So now you want me to die? That’s rich! What a fool. Come on, boy, come try me!”

“Hey, let me help too!” When Joey rushed up to Rex, he could feel an invisible barrier push him backwards. 

“Joey, this is my fight alone. Why don’t you just take out the small fry and let a pro handle this?”

“Hahaha!” Despite the fact that there were still several hundred Earthbound soldiers left, Joey couldn’t help but laugh. “Even when he’s some almighty angel… god... thing, he’s still definitely that silly Rex Raptor. Well, my dude, consider my morale boosted! You heard the man, guys!”

“H-How dare you address the God-Shattering Star that way?” Phuckdis was clearly offended. 

“Aww, come on, lighten up! Or you can just, I don’t know, sit there and relax while us duelists take care of the bad guys.”

“Or I can just, you know, show you just how strong us shapeshifters are!” Upon hearing Joey’s words, Phuckdis felt his strength anew, as did his brother. “I cannot fly, but that doesn’t mean I cannot fight!”

“Headstrong and reckless like your ‘God-Shattering Star.’” Duke chuckled. “Well, then, you better do a good job proving how strong you are!”

“You’re a poet and didn’t even know it!” Tristan quipped.

“You see, Weevil?” Rex stared at the nearly-soulless shell of his boyfriend. “You picked the wrong side to fight for. You have no friends there.”

“‘Friends,’ huh…” Weevil stared absentmindedly at the fighting below, especially at Joey and Atem. The chain whip rattled in his hands as he shook in anger. “Must be sooooo nice to have them! It must feel soooooo nice to be able to get palsy-walsy with people who didn’t give a shit about you just four years ago!”

“Weeves?!”

“You… YOU FUCKERS WILL ALL PAY!” Weevil dove as fast as he could, with all the anger he could muster ready to fuel his strike upon Atem.

“You coward! Get back here!” Rex couldn’t dive anywhere near that quickly, but tried to keep up as fast as his unborn baby would allow him, holding onto her for dear life.

“Eh?” Joey noticed Weevil coming for him before anyone else did, and braced himself with the Red-Eyes Black Dragon Sword. “Atem, look out!”

“Amulet Dragon, protect us!”

Weevil had originally planned to strike everyone in one blow with the chain whip. But being the deceptive little shit he was, he decided on a different mode of attack - bypassing all of the monsters and encasing his two most hated enemies in spider webs instead. “Ha! Syke!”

“Ggh!” Already, Joey was up to his neck in spider webs - yet for some strange reason, his sword arm remained free, as did the sword itself. The webs would not give way, no matter how hard or often he slashed at them.

“W-Weevil…” Atem could hardly talk, as the spider webs gripped his throat tightly. “I… I thought we were friends!”

“Me? Friends with you?! What a joke! Do you honestly expect me to believe a word of bullshit coming out of your mouth after the suffering you’ve caused me? Do you honestly think that after all you’ve done, I’d consider you a friend?” Weevil cackled as Atem writhed in pain. “If anything, you’re lower than the dirt underneath my feet!”

All the commotion awakened Heka. “F-Father… No! Dear gods, what’s happening to my father?”

“Boy! How does it feel to know that your father is no longer the King of Games?”

“Leave… him alone!” Heka flung a flimsy arm, releasing a ball of light that Weevil easily blocked. 

“Hmm… Nah, I think I’ll pass on that. In fact, I’d rather kill him before your very eyes!” Weevil approached Atem, with the intent to decapitate him with the chain whip. That was, until Rex blocked him in the nick of time, drawing Weevil’s attention away from his two captives. “Humph. It’s you again.”

“Damn right!” Rex’s smile faded when not long after he blocked the attack, his bow began to crumble. “Uh… Uh-oh…”

“Hah! Some ‘God-Shattering Star’ you turned out to be! Looks to me like you’re the one who’s shattered!” 

“Crud… I kind of need a weapon!” Rex picked up a sword from one of his fallen allies, but it was so weak that Weevil shattered it with his bare hands, grabbing Rex by the throat right after. “Ngh!”

“Before I kill you right here and now, tell me something, Rex. Why did you defend these guys?”

“B-Because… They’re… my… cough… cough…”

“They accepted you so easily, just because you play by the rules… Why is friendship such an easy thing for you, yet I could never make one friend? Why do Joey and Atem and literally everyone else in this fucking city love you and think I’M the worst duelist there ever was?”

“Don’t… Don’t I count, Weeves?” More than the iron grip of Weevil’s right hands, Weevil’s words hurt Rex. “And your own daughter? Have… cough… Have you already forgotten what we’ve all been through? We’re… willing to… forgive you… Just… Ugh!”

“Not another word out of you! The Earthbound Gods are the only friends I need now! Not you weaklings!” Ignoring the twinge of pain in his heart, Weevil lightly ran the chain whip over Rex’s left arm, barely enough to draw blood. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Weevil was so far gone into his own madness that Joey was certain he wouldn’t be able to hear him now. “Psst… Rex.”

“J-Joey?” Rex turned his head around, just enough to see Joey.

“You said… cough… that you needed a weapon, right?” Joey held up his sword arm. “Ya’ think this will be good enough?”

“That’s…!” Flashbacks of his Orichalcos duel flooded Rex’s mind. That’s the sword that sent my soul to the Great Leviathan! But if there’s no other choice, then…

“It’s now or never! Think fast!” Joey threw the Red-Eyes Black Dragon Sword at Rex, hoping to the gods he’d catch it and put it to good use.

“If that sword can’t cut the spider webs, then what makes you think that Rex will somehow magically put it to good use?”

Rex felt the sword land in his right hand, and had a clever idea. “By doing… this. ”

“G-Gaaaaah!” Weevil howled in pain when Rex did the unthinkable - completely cutting off his right arms and thereby freeing Atem and Joey from their bonds. He stared at Rex wide-eyes. “You would dare hurt me? Aren’t you scared of losing the love of your life?”

“Yes, I am.” Rex pointed the sword at Weevil’s face. “But the thing I’m even more scared of? Seeing Weevil Underwood beat himself up and become a destructive monster where a man once was.”

“Ugh, you were always so talkative!” Weevil flew higher and dove at Rex like a peregrine falcon. Rex took to the air as well and parried this attack with the sword, but not without some recoil. “Just one of the many things I hate about you!”

“Hah!” Rex repelled Weevil with the sword, enough to put a slight dent in the chain whip. “Your psychological tricks aren’t going to work on me now, Weevil!” 

“But maybe a variety of attacks can!” Weevil shot spider webs from his left hands that stuck to Rex’s butt-length hair and part of his shirt.

“Tch…” Rex didn’t like the sensation of sticky things in his hair, but grinned and bore it for now. “Am I supposed to be scared by the fact that you’re still part-spider?”

Weevil smirked as he barraged Rex with the chain whip. “Oh, I still see the fear in your eyes, Rex Raptor. A fear that you will lose the father of that child you’re carrying.”

Weevil’s words reminded Rex of his more painful contractions that got ever closer - yet being the bold man and duelist he was, he paid them little heed.

“I’ll give you credit for one thing,” Weevil spoke while he beat his wings faster, deadlocked in battle, trying to crush Rex with the chain whip. “You’re quite the warrior. And you’ve changed since your Orichalcos duel with Joey. It appears that you’re not going to let something like mere words rile you up.”

“But I can tell my words are riling you up…” Rex whispered closed to Weevil’s ear, catching him off-guard, before stabbing him in the shoulder with the sword. 

“Ngh…” Finally in pain, Weevil could feel his strength dwindling.

“Weeves…” Rex stared at his boyfriend - and stabbed him in the left thigh - in sorrow. “You can’t honestly mean that you want this… any of this! Don’t you remember seeing your daughter for the first time on the ultrasound? A-And how I told you all those years ago that I want nobody but you? How fast our hearts were beating when we confessed our love?”

“You… dino brain! Ack!” Weevil could no longer repel Rex’s attack and fell a few feet downwards. “I thought I told you that you can’t sweet talk your way into killing an Earthbound God!”

“You called me ‘dino brain’ again…” Tears of joy pooled in Rex’s eyes. “I know you still love me… Once the Rex Raptor has his sights on you, you can’t get rid of him.”

“Actually, I can ,” spoke a voice that was clearly not Weevil’s.

“Is… Is that you, Watda?” Weevil’s real voice finally came out.

“It appears to me that you’re going to be useless now, Uru… So it looks like I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

“No… No!” Weevil thrashed about in the air, confusing Rex. “Leave Rex and Amber alone!”

“Weeves, what’s going on?” Rex couldn’t hear Watda’s voice.

“Goodbye, you damned useless rabbit…”

Weevil couldn’t control the ball of dark energy coming out from his right hands. “Wait… Watda, stop!”

“Ah!” He wasn’t fully confident that he could block this evidently stronger attack, but Rex enveloped himself in his dragon’s wings. 

And Rex wouldn’t have to block the attack. For before Watda’s attack could hit him, Weevil managed to separate from Watda, taking the full brunt of the attack last minute.

“W-Weeves!” The strength in Rex’s eyes now gone, he watched in horror as his boyfriend froze in the air before beginning a rapid descent into Domino City’s concrete. “Oh my gods… No… You’re going to come back, just like you did last time… right?”

“Even an Earthbound God and the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon can’t survive a 1000-meter fall. You saw it yourself when Cusillu, Aslla Piscu, and Kaiba all died.”

“Shut… up…”

“Now what are you going to do, since your beloved Weevil Underwood lies dead?” Watda laughed as his shadows grew fiercer. “You’re nothing without him, you weak-ass monster. Nothing!”

“That’s… That’s not… Oh!” Before Rex could aim his sword at Watda, he suddenly felt amniotic fluid trickle down his legs. He shook so badly that he lost grip of the sword as it plummeted after Weevil.

“You’re in labour, hmm? Looks to me like you have two choices: one, continue to fight me and risk losing your baby; or two, going back to ground level to give birth. But with that second option, there might be a sliiiiight chance I’ll destroy the world. Either way, you lose! Hahahahaha!”

No, he won’t, spoke Amber’s voice.

“Ngh… Amber, you’re still there?”

I’ve been with you the whole time, Papa. You’ve got to finish this fast!

“But how do you expect me to do that? Especially since… your Daddy is…”

There is one way. Now that Daddy has been separated from Watda… Papa, I’ll give you all of my strength. Use it to finally banish this mongrel to hell, where he belongs! Amber de-fused from Rex. In fully shifted form, she engulfed Watda, leaving only the Earthbound God’s chest exposed. In the process, lights sprung from the ground as the bow regenerated in Rex’s hands.

“Ggh! Let go of me, you wench!” Watda struggled to no avail.

Before Rex could process what was going on, he coruscated like the northern lights, and he stretched out his new angel’s wings. His hair grew past his legs, and brown locks encircled his arms.

“Oh my…” With the Earthbound army now vanquished, Phuckdis could truly behold his people’s chief god.

“That’s my boy!” Ptera cheered. “Give that bastard what for!”

“Hehe!” Rex gave his mom a thumbs up. “One kick-ass arrow, coming right up!”

“What are you doing?” Watda could feel his time at an end.

“Watda!” Rex continued to growl as he pulled his bowstring back, and his body and weapon grew ever brighter. “Go back to the shadows! Hyaaaaaaaah!”

“It’s…” Watda could say little more as the glowing arrow impaled a giant hole in his chest. “It’s done… I’m… done… Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgh!”

“Finally, something we can agree on.” Rex’s descent back to Earth started slowly, but upon reaching six feet above ground, he reverted forms and fell into Spinos’ arms.

“God-Shattering Star!” Phuckdis and the remaining Club members ran up to Rex.

“Is… Is that what I’m called? Heh, sounds pretty cool…” Rex would have rested if he didn’t wonder about Amber. “Wait a second, where’s Amber? Where is my daughter?”

“Rex!” Mokuba pointed to an approaching Joey, who carried a heavily mutilated Amber in his arms.

“Amber!” Rex got up from his prone position to hold Amber, whom Joey had gently lowered to the ground. “No! I… I thought we got him! I thought we defeated Watda together!”

“W-We did… But at a cost… What did you think I meant when I said ‘I’ll give you all of my strength?’”

“Amber…?” Rex couldn’t even hold Amber’s right hand anymore, as it began to fade into nothingness. “What’s happening? Please… This isn’t happening!”

“My… My granddaughter…” Ptera cried as Spinos and Tricera consoled her. Not a single eye was dry as Rex’s friends and allies watched the scene unfold. Even Espa and a newly-healed Mako could see what was going on.

“But… But we only got to duel once!” Joey got down and cried with Rex. “And you haven’t even dueled Espa yet! I thought you were going to win back his Serpent Night Dragon!”

“Joey… My friend…” Amber reached out her left hand to Joey. “I… I just wished I had… acknowledged you as such… earlier…”

“Amber! No, please don’t die!” Pretty much every body part Rex tried to grab at faded away, except for Amber’s head, shoulders, and left hand. 

“Die? No, I’m just about to be born…” Amber placed what was left of her left hand on Rex’s baby bump. “I can’t wait to see you again and forge our bonds anew.”

“Amber…?” Rex cried as Amber chuckled one last time before her future self was no more. “AMBER! NO! Oh… my gods… Sniff…”

“My love!” Heka, who had just fully healed, ran to Rex. He had only seen future Amber for a brief spell before she died. “Oh, no… My heart…”

“Heka, I’m so sorry…” Rex hugged his daughter’s boyfriend. “Not only for your mother’s death, but also for Amber’s…”

“Forget about me! You just lost your daughter!” Heka cried into Rex’s shoulder as Atem consoled him too.

“Amber… I… Aaaaargh!” Rex suddenly doubled over as the remainder of his amniotic fluid gushed out all at once.

“His water has already broken… Rex is going into labour!” Mokuba announced. “Someone call an ambulance!”

“It’s for real this time, guys!” Joey got up and dialed the campus emergency number. After that, he knelt down again, trying to calm Rex down in any way he could. “Rex, hang in there. We’re going to get you help!”

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Vampire Story OCs

New and improved because the original got deleted! Here’s everyone, alphabetized, sorted, and so on! With a wee bit of info about them as well!

DRACULA’S COVEN

Eric Madden: A member of the coven who was turned in 1987. He’s confident and cocky, but it masks a rather depressed interior. He’s bisexual. He has the power to read movements, however subtle, to detect feelings as well as intentions and actions.

Dahlia Rosemont: One of Dracula’s adopted daughters from the 19th century. She was the child of slave owners who she frequently rebelled against, becoming something of an abolitionist before her parents caught her and traded her to a vampire. She was rescued and adopted by Dracula and his bride-to-be Victoria (my wife’s OC). Her power is incredible super speed. 

Macheath Sharpe: A former highwayman from the 19th century who was turned by their jailor. They have the power to shape their body however they please; they choose to present as a lovely woman, but keep their David Bowie-esque British male voice. They work at the Rhyme or Reason Karaoke Bar.

Matthias Dracula: A vampire leader with a long and storied history, whose greatest dream was to have a school to teach young vampires. The former leader of the coven, killed in 1890 by Marianna Cross and her vampire killers. However, there is perhaps a way for him to return...

Nadia Shibani: Age 24 when she was turned. She hails from the Middle East. She was found living a miserable life as a bored, pampered wife to a man she didn’t love. Dracula and Victoria freed her from this slavery, and she ended up being turned by Victoria. She was apparently given away because her father didn’t believe her to be his child. She went into self-imposed exile after the death of Dracula due to feeling responsible for his death, as she had been the lover of his killer, Marianna Cross. Unbeknownst to her, her true father is Amon. She has the power to alter the gravity of any object, allowing her to fly or lift objects or make things even heavier, though she does have limits.

Primrose Beirne: Eric’s best friend from his time as a mortal, they met up at a gay bar in the 80s and became good friends. She enjoys gothic lolita fashion and smoking. She’s a bit snarky and mellow. She is a lesbian.

Rose Milliner: Hailing from the late 18th century, Rose as a mortal had epilepsy and psychic flashes that made her a pariah among her peers, and led to her being abused by stepfather and stepbrother. On her way to being put in an asylum, her stepbrother tried to help her flee, but the two were ambushed by a vampire. Rose was turned, and eventually ended up with Dracula. She has incredible psychic and telekinetic powers, but due to her mental instabilities she as a tendency to involuntarily read people’s minds, which makes her unpopular with others. She has anisocoria. 

Sakura Himura: A former samurai who fought in the Satsuma rebellion. She’s loud, brash, and loves to drink and swear. She despises western culture and tries her best to uphold tradition, but she’s a little hypocritical. She’s blind and either uses her sister, a cane, or her radar sense power to navigate and fight. 

Yuriko Himura: Sakura’s younger (yet taller) sister. She’s a lot sweeter and more nervous, hating confrontation. She loves western culture in stark contrast to her sister, and converted to Christianity in the 20th century. She has the power to channel healing energy through her hands and into objects.

MARIANNA’S COVEN/EVE’S COVEN (Book 2)

Amon: A very old, very powerful vampire. He serves as Marianna’s right-hand man. He is exceptionally myserious.

Eve: The black horned demon serpent who in an age long past created vampires. She preys on the weak and vulnerable, turning them into vampires so that she might use them later on to fill out the seven seats in the Order of the Black Orchard, her personal bodyguards. She is said to have cut out her heart long ago to escape the pain of heartbreak, and because of this the very beings she created are more easily able to find love. She uses special apples grown in her private orchard known as Black Eden to help create powerful vampires. 

Jack Fairchild: Jack the Ripper himself. He has the power to travel through shadows. He is the most hated and feared member of the coven, and he has committed nearly every atrocity you can imagine, gleefully. He views himself as above laws and morality.

Jojo Faust: A young German man from WWI Germany who faked his own death and became an alcoholic following the death of the man he loved in WWI. He was tricked into being turned and was used as a prostitute by Marianna’s coven. He has no idea what his power is, and is kept in line with a special slave collar created by Rhiannon. He is bisexual.

Kristoph Hollenfeuer: A former Nazi who commanded a secret paranormal investigation branch known as Enigma. He has the power to generate tracking bombs from his hands. 

Marianna Cross: The leader of the coven. Formerly Nadia’s lover, she gave in to the temptations of power that Eve and Amon offered her, and betrayed Dracula and his coven, leading to Dracula’s demise. Her weapons of choice are sharp-nailed silver gauntlets specially made so she can wear them. She still pines for Nadia, which has led to her neglecting her adopted daughter Gabby (my wife’s OC). She has the power to enter mirrors, which has led to her being called ‘Bloody Mary.’

Rhapsody Von Braun: Hailing from the early 60s, Rhapsody was an artist who had her career derailed by workplace sexism, which led to a car accident that permanently damaged her leg and led to her becoming a drug addict. She spends a lot of her time sleeping, and walks with a cane even as a vampire. She’s rather sweet and pleasant, though she is a bit scatterbrained. Her power is to make drawings she draws come to life.

LOOMER STREET GANG

Jason “Loveless” Leeds: The second oldest of the Leeds kids, he always tried to protect his siblings from their abusive dad. Went to jail for a year at age 20 because he took the blame for their father’s murder. Because it was self-defense, he was only given a year sentence. He’s a bit self-conscious about being seen as a stereotypical angry black man, and is actually a bit of a goofball. Prior to going to jail he was a theater kid, and starred in a lot of productions at his high school. 

Lilith Crowley:  Venus’ twin sister, Lilith is the dark Goth punk to Venus’ girly girl with a tomboy streak. She has a scar over her right eye from when she suffered a sexual assault in high school that almost lead to her death, but by some unknown stroke of luck she was found, her hair white and scarred over her eye but otherwise unharmed. She nowadays works as a getaway driver in Loveless’ gang, and has incredible skill behind the wheel. Her favorite band is Styx, her favorite food is chips. 

Rika Amano: A half-Japanese, half-white girl (she looks more Japanese). After her father disappeared in Egypt, her mother slowly went mad from grief, which her brother Ryo used to his full advantage, tricking Rika into believing a violent assault on her was her mother’s doing to kick her out of the family. Homeless, she eventually found a safe haven in a homeless shelter, where she met her friend David Paine and the shelter’s owner, Lucius White, who she spent much of the next decade helping. She’s very tough, resourceful, and good-natured. She has the power to rewind time a bit, a la Sands of Time, but she only can use this a limited number of times. She has a lot of pale scars on her left arm from self-harming after becoming homeless.

Valentine Leeds: A perpetually cheerful young man who is a skilled acrobatic and looks like Michael Jackson in the 80s. Age 21. The youngest of three siblings. Killed their dad when he was 14 years old (Sierra was 23; Loveless was 20.)

SILVERWINGS

Antoinette LeBlanc: A baker and vampire hunter from the south. She’s sweet as can be. Her three favorite things in the world are baking, sex, and vampires in that order. She’s skilled with a shotgun; her weapon of choice is Ol’ Faithful, a shotgun her father gave her.

Babette Bonheur: A younger member of the Silverwings, she is a sweet redheaded French girl. Her greatest joy in life is painting. She has psychic visions, and she can go into a trance and paint what she sees. She is unaware of Mari’s crush on her as well as the fact she herself is a lesbian. Age 20.

Enrico Luna -  Age 47. A dark skinned Italian man with hair that went prematurely white; he tends to keep it in a ponytail. A devoutly religious man, he grew up in the church, but formed his own set of beliefs when he began to see others in his church acting callous, cruel, and intolerant, believing they were not truly following the will of God. Venturing out on his own, he was recruited by his first wife, Lenore, into becoming a vampire hunter and paranormal investigator. The two were a wonderful team for six years, until Lenore was grievously wounded while fighting a werewolf, dying from her injuries. The stress prematurely whitened Luna's hair, but though this event hurt his heart, it did not lead him astray from what he viewed as the righteous path. He soon after joined the Silverwings and rose through their ranks as one of the most skilled members, and his judgment was almost always trusted, up to his recruitment of Amber Yang. He and Amber became as good a team as he was with his wife, and it is a rather open secret he harbors feelings for her, but he is content with leaving it as an unspoken attraction for now.

Gideon Golightly: A nervous, skinny freckled redhead who is nonetheless quite acrobatic. He tends to guard the door to the Silverwings lair.

Harlan Silver: Age 62. The Silver who is currently in charge of the Silverwing groups of vampire hunters. He has carved out quite a name for himself over the years, dealing with numerous dangerous supernatural occurrences quickly and effectively. Despite his age and his injuries, which include a missing eye and an injured leg, he is as formidable as ever. He is a loving father to his daughter Mara, and is perhaps the only person who really tolerates her snarkiness.

Mara Silver: Harlan’s daughter who was recently turned into a vampire by accident while her father was on a mission in Venezia. She’s an albino. She has no interest in the Silverwings and thinks they’re a bit goofy but she loves and respects her dad. She’s a bit brash and overbearing and sometimes jokes a bit too much, which she picked up from her mother. She’s unsure what her power is. She is rarely seen without her white hoodie with a pink heart and her heart-shaped sunglasses.

Mari Noven: The half-Korean, half-white daughter of Dr. David Noven and Dr. Ava Noven, two scientists working with the Silverwings. She is rather skilled at using ice magic. She has a thing for Babette, though Babette is completely unaware. Age 20.

Norman Grieves: Age 44. His parents were in the Silverwings, so he was in the know about vampires and the supernatural from a young age, often studying alongside his parents. He became a hunter at 21, but decided field action wasn’t his forte after meeting Behiti, instead deciding for an important desk job so he could raise a family. He became the library owner and so kept the Silverwing’s lair safe, as well as scoped out potential recruits. He is the adoptive father of Chastity’s children.

St. Jezebel: A fiery-haired saint who was said to have fought Eve in ancient times. Eve ensured that after she was canonized, she would fall into obscurity and be forgotten, though the Silverwings have done their best to keep her memory alive.

Talia Ishtar: An Egyptian scholar and martial artist. She’s a bit snooty and irritable but she has a good heart. Age 26. 

OTHER IMPORTANT CHARACTERS

Amadeus Zephyri: A former member of the 19th century Order, he was set up as a sacrifice and so was given the chance to flee by Dracula, which he took. He was a genuinely good guy who seemed content to relax and not kill or be killed, and even fathered two children, Rika and Ryo Amano. He had the power to stop time for eight seconds max. Despite loving his eventual wife dearly, he always ached for Dahlia Rosemont, his first love, but never to the point it stopped him from loving Mrs. Amano.

Armstrong: The owner of the Rhyme or Reason Karaoke bar, and a skilled alchemist. He possesses a philosopher’s stone but refuses to use it, feeling metal into gold is cheating. He is incredibly buff with wavy red hair, looking like someone who could star in an 80s barbarian movie.

Flynn Dangerfield: The son of a vampire killer. He has a jagged scar across his face, from some incident or another. He is good at making sandwiches. He is the least evil vampire  killer.

Grigori Rasputin: The mad monk himself. He has the power to regenerate into a new body whenever his current one is compromised or destroyed. 

Macavity: Jemima’s right-hand man and best friend. Despite being a muscular manservant, he is fond of poetry and Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals.

Minerva Bright:: Age 35. The daughter of Balthazar Bright, founder of the diner Brightside’s, and his wife Rosa, Minerva was a very cheerful child with a passion for cooking and a love of people. As soon as she was old enough to work, she joined her parents in the diner and took pride in making sure customers were happy and satisfied, and that those in need received help. However, things changed when she was 20; her father was gunned down in a robbery gone wrong, and a few months later her mother took her own life out of grief; as if that wasn’t bad enough, Minerva, who was pregnant, ended up miscarrying due to the stress of the trauma in her life, and her fiance left her as a result when he found out she likely wouldn’t be able to bear more children. Minerva, now alone, took over running Brightside’s, and while she carried on the work her parents started, she grew more miserable, eventually finding ways to suppress all her emotions so that she could keep helping people. At one point, Jemima entered her diner, and the two built up a friendship, which eventually culminated in Minerva working with her, believing that Jemima had similar goals. But over the years she became disillusioned and soon became disgusted by how far Jemima was willing to go and how low she was willing to stoop to leave the city. Leaving Brightside’s in the hand of a trusted friend, she went into hiding with a few other women and formed a group hellbent on taking down Jemima once and for all.

Morag Macduff: The best friend of Chastity (wife’s OC). She’s an assistant manager and works the glory holes at the Den of Sin. She’s in her early 40s. 

Remy Delacroix: The owner of the Den of Sin. He’s a bit greasy, but he usually means well.

Rex Hart: Rose’s stepbrother. Pressured by his abusive father into abusing Rose as well, he eventually turned on his father and began protecting Rose after his father killed her only friend: a little puppy Rex had found for her. He did his best to try and save her, but was turned and separated from her for years, becoming an alcoholic and mercenary in the process. Rose found him and the two reconciled, but were again separated when he teamed up with Amon to keep her safe and reign in Jack Fairchild. He has the power to, upon his death, have his body explode with the force of the bomb, with him respawning nearby.

Rhiannon Rhydderch: A vampire from the mid 16th century. She’s a powerful blood mage, and uses her power to make enchanted jewelry. She’s a very sweet and charming woman, and has no idea her jewelry is used for nefarious purposes.  She has the power of flight, which manifests as shimmering butterfly wings.

Venus Crowley:  Age 27. A free-spirited, fun-loving girl who frequents the Den mostly so she can support her friend Chastity. She’s known for being a bit scatterbrained as well as for being hopeless when it comes to love, with one amusing anecdote being how she freaked out and begged her twin sister Lilith for help after she asked out five different girls on the same day due to how conflicted she was as to who she liked. She loves her motorcycle (which she named Lady) almost as much as she loves girls, but she’s still very much a girly girl. She does street races and all sorts of illegal stunt driving to get her money, though she also has a job doing stunt shows at the local amusement park, Fordlandia. 

Vinny Tosto: Owner of the burger joint Vinny’s. Sometimes has Lilith deliver shipments in a quick and timely manner, oftentimes not totally legal ones. 

[tessatechaitea]

Justice League International #7 (1987)

Kevin Maguire not really trying looks an awful lot like John Romita Jr at his best.

Ah! It feels good to be back! Taking a crack at John Romita Jr while he's just sitting there not doing anything particularly wrong. Just going about his business pretending to be a comic book artist! I don't know what John Romita's politics are but I bet he now agrees with Donald Trump on one thing: naming your kid after you is a huge fucking mistake. Was all that previous nonsense poisonous, vile, and toxic? I suppose one could argue the point. But I'd also guess that somebody arguing that point has never seen John Romita Jr's art. Or perhaps they have seen it and like it because they have a terribly underdeveloped sense of aesthetics. Otherwise nobody would argue with me at all! They'd just read the previous poisonous, vile, toxic nonsense and nod their heads in agreement while pausing for a second to snort a line of Adderall. Fine, I'm sorry, JRJR! Obviously you're an artist! Drawing squinty people with block heads and weird noses holding geometric guns without a single curve on them absolutely falls under the definition of art! Although I draw the line at accepting that Rob Liefeld is an artist. That's a bridge too far! What the fuck does that even mean, "a bridge too far"? It must be a term bombers in WWII used, right? "What the fuck do you mean, carpet bomb Dresden?! If we fly past the Geralthauskopfplatz Bridge, we're definitely getting scrawked by anti-aircraft flak, you bingehart!" Did that sound like an authentic American bomber pilot from the 40s? It's not like Catch-22 is my favorite book or something. Wait. Catch-22 is my favorite book. I guess I'm just no good at written impressions. I assure you it sounds exactly what you'd expect from an American pilot in the Forties if you heard me do the impression live. Also, this is probably the last month of my life where I'll be able to say, "Catch-22 is my favorite book." Because I'm over 500 pages into Gravity's Rainbow and it's just as fucking amazing as everybody who has pretended to read it says it is. This issue begins with Guy Gardner regaining consciousness after having been violently assaulted by his employer.

Why was the mouse glowing green?!

In my memory, Guy Gardner's change from dickhole to sweetest guy on the team came after Batman punched his lights out. But apparently that isn't the case. It's possible this new whack on the head is the cause or maybe it's something a bit later. I bet an editorial mandate came down which said they couldn't have Guy suffer serious head trauma from Batman punching him. So they had to add this new scene where Guy basically gives himself the head trauma that results in a catastrophic change in personality. The Justice League didn't quite finish destroying The Gray Man last issue so that story gets resolved pretty quickly this issue. Doctor Fate transported him to the Realms of Order where a big blob of Order disintegrates him. Which is what he ultimately wanted. It's what we all ultimately want. It's just you don't know that you want it until you've lived long enough for all the wonder to be bled out of life. That's why he's the Gray Man! Some people think life's too short but at 49, I'm beginning to suspect that it's way too fucking long.

This comic book passes the Reverse Bechdel Test: "Any story that has only one woman in it and every scene she's in, she's treated like a sexual object."

With The Gray Man out of the way, it's time to get to the important part of the story: turning the Justice League of America into Justice League International! I wonder how many people this change pissed off in the 80s? Fucking globalist woke elite bubble bullshit! People talk in derogatory terms about the coastal bubbles but they absolutely shouldn't. I won't disagree that I grew up in a totally different environment in the San Francisco Bay Area than people who grew up in the Midwest. A bubble? Sure. But it was a fucking good thing. I was recently showing the Non-Certified Spouse some of the station breaks from local stations in the late 70s and early 80s out of San Francisco and she was amazed at the representative shorts these stations presented, especially KTVU's "Bits and Pieces." Sure, there were the ones about ethics and morality humorously presented with a horse and bulldog puppet. But there were also the ones that showed different ethnicities and their lives, often ending with "I'm proud to be a Chinese American!" or "I'm proud to be a Black American!" The one about Japanese Americans even mentioned how Japanese families were put in interment camps during World War II. One was about Italian Americans and instead of Italian history, it just showed Italian art and various activities of people in the Italian community. One of the Japanese American shorts just had a Japanese American kid having to explain how he was tired of answering questions about being Japanese in America because he was fourth generation and just American as anybody else. But I guess that kind of commie pinko hogwash is why I'm a big fat America hating socialist! As I was saying before my politics politely interrupted (my politics interrupting impolitely would look like this: Trump voters should be forced to shit in their own mouths for all eternity), the main thrust of this story is to set up Justice League International. Judging by the cover, that means hiring some guy with a bucket on his head from Russia and Captain Atom, another white American male.

Ah yes! The introduction of the best character of the series: Big Barda!

Big Barda might not be on the team but at least there's another female character. Sure, Doctor Light was sort of on the team for three pages. And pretty soon, Fire and Ice will join. But it's mostly just been poor Black Canary having to put up with Booster and Blue Beetle's jokes about banging her. Max and J'onn discuss the United Nations possibly backing the Justice League while Superman talks respectfully with President Reagan. What a mistake! The biggest do-gooder on the planet normalizing fucking Ronald Reagan! He should be scolding him with a liberal smattering of Kryptonian tsk-tsks! That's when a Kryptonian gives you a little burst of heat vision every time you deny the AIDS crisis or invoke the spectre of Welfare Queens or destroy the economy by lowering the top marginal tax rates pretending that the money saved will trickle down to everyone instead of fat corporate cats simply keeping all the extra for bonuses and investors. Fuck that guy. I'm so mad now!

Of all the digs they could have taken with Reagan, they poke fun of his dementia?! Christ, Giffen and DeMatteis.

Hal Jordan drops by headquarters to give Guy a good talking-to but Guy doesn't need it because he's suffered a traumatic head injury on top of his brain damage alongside Batman's sucker punch to the face and now he's Mister Sweetbeans. And because he's acting so nice, nobody gives a shit that this is actually a medical emergency. Backing Maxwell Lord is a computer satellite in space. Is it Brother Eye already?! Are they already working together in 1987?! Or is it just some alien gizmo from the Millennium bullshit coming up? I don't remember! Heck, this Maxwell Lord might even be a Manhunter! Anyway, the satellite begins destroying shit on Earth with a giant heat beam. The Justice League, having nearly nobody who can do anything about it, doesn't call Superman to fix the problem. Instead, they decide to spend precious hours borrowing a space shuttle from STAR Labs to launch them into space to battle the space station. Also, they leave Guy Gardner back at headquarters on monitor duty. Because who needs the guy with experience battling in space with a ring that can protect every other member of the League while in space? Also the ring is the greatest weapon in the universe. So, you know, sideline that guy, right?

It's possible this was in the era where Superman couldn't survive in space either, really. But then that's even more incentive to get fucking Guy Gardner up there with them!

The Justice League manages to stop the satellite's destruction but mostly only because it was a huge set-up so every nation could see them save the world. Everybody wants them defending the planet now so the United Nations agrees to back them with one condition: two new members, one to pacify the U.S. and one to pacify the U.S.S.R.

I've read a lot of ridiculous things in comic books but Rocket Red's power levels being nearly equal to Captain Atom's might be the most ridiculous.

I love how Captain Atom's power level is 9+ but Rocket Red's power level is 8.43 instead of 8+. I guess the accuracy of whatever system they're using breaks down over 9. Captain Marvel quits the team and Batman steps down as leader so J'onn can lead. And that's about it, I guess! The issue ends with some kind of flim-flam about how its the 80s and we've become a global world and boundaries just don't work anymore and superheroes are cool as shit. I guess it's inspirational or something. There's still just one woman on the team though. Justice League International #7 Rating: B. Seven issues in and the Justice League has defeated two villains who weren't actual threats to anybody. They were just scams to get the Justice League some press. They also beat up and killed an old guy who was just frustrated with the boredom that came with the immortality the Lords of Order forced on him. So all in all, they're nearly as terrible as the New Titans who practically only ever battled relatives while putting the residents of New York City in danger every time.

[heartfeltheart]

Number3Hero!Au: Burn Marks

Summary: The Fall of the Todoroki Family.

The day that things changed for the Todoroki Family, it was the day villains thought too much of themselves that they attacked the family right on their doorstep. No one was prepared for what happened that day and it is something that will stick with them for the rest of their lives…

What made the entire situation even worse was that Enji knew the attackers. They were a group of villains that did all their crimes on the plainest of days and always made sure they had an audience. They always called news stations, the paparazzi, and so on and so forth, all to get an audience. He never would of never give it a second thought they ever would attack his family in their home. Far as he knew, the attacks were occurring in another city far from his home and agency.

Enji and Rei did everything they could to protect their children, but that was proving to be more difficult as time went by. It was becoming evident that the main targets were the children and the villains had deeply planed this as their quirks were set to offset the couple’s own quirks.

Fuyumi was put in charge of taking care of her siblings by creating an ice shield. The shield only lasted for so long, the kids watched as their parents fight off the villains, but they could only do so much from the one bad guy that’s bashing against the ice shield. It took six hits before the shield shattered. At that moment, Fuyumi had taken hold of Shoto and ran off while her brothers run in different directions in hopes to get the villain away from the others.

Everyone watched in slow motion as the main villain grab hold of Natsuo and threw him across the small yard, causing the nine-year-old to slam against a tree. Then turning his attention to Fuyumi and Shoto. The enemy used his quirk send out a blast towards their direction, but in the last second, Fuyumi threw Shoto away to get him away from the attack, but this caused her to get the entire brunt of the attack. Fuyumi was thrown through the front door and all the way inside the house with a loud crash.

Toya felt rage fill within him, he wanted to help his family, but unlike his siblings and parents, he has no way of helping them. Far as he and anyone else knew, he’s quirkless. Despite this, Toya charged at the man that attacked his siblings with a loud roar when he  saw the man go after his youngest brother. He wasn’t going to allow the villain to go after him. What happened next, no one would have ever foreseen it. If it weren’t for the news chopper up in the sky, broadcasting the scene before, no one would have believed Toya “Quirkless” Todoroki had blue flames erupting out of him towards the villain… and his brother.

It was at this point, Enji threw away his morals and aimed to kill those that dared hurt his family. He didn’t care that he has a large gash that is continuously bleeding out or how he knew that it was a matter of time before he falls. All he cared for is the safety of his family. When he saw Fuyumi’s ice shield had fallen and his children in massive danger, all morals were thrown out the window. His aim was set to kill, laws be damned. He barely had to glance over at Rei, to see her just in bad condition as himself, for the both of them to understand what they needed to do to save their family. They turned around just in time to see blue flames' envelope Toya before he charged towards the villain that torn down the ice shield and had put their sights on the youngest Todoroki.

Above in the sky, the newscaster, went into great detail with sheer terror could be clearly heard as they went over on what was happening down below. The villain that attacked the Todoroki children was sent aflame by the supposed Quirkless Todoroki. Terror turned into complete horror as Shoto Todoroki got caught up in the flames and three screams filled the air. No one was able to get close to the flames as it appeared to become unstable as it continued to grow.

It all came to an end to reveal one charred body, a whimpering five-year-old curled onto himself, and a still burning ten-year-old who is crying out for his parents in agony. Despite this, Toya crawled towards his brother and by the time he got there, he was no longer burning and held his brother close to himself. What neither boy saw, but their parents are, is a new villain had made the scene and is set to attack the boys.

Before harm could even occur to Toya and Shoto, the villain was impaled with one massive icicle that was followed by a barrage of hail that penetrated their skin. It was noted by the newscaster that Fuyumi and Natsuo had managed to get up to protect their brothers before passing out once more. By now, the newscaster cut of the live feed as at this point, Enji and Rei had set their sights to kill off the  remaining villains.

By the end of this, the entire Todoroki Family were immediately rushed to the hospital. The location was placed under lockdown to ensure the safety of all the patients. Pro-heroes were stationed all throughout the area and even in the hospital to ensure no one came close to the family.

Enji was the only one in his family that came more or less came physically out alright compared to the rest of his family. He felt worthless for not being able to protect his family and primarily blaming himself for the entire event. That voice in the back of his mind, kept whispering to him that it was his fault for the entire event. How he should have just killed villains, consequences be damned. If it meant keeping his family coming out unscathed, Enji would have been more than happy give his life for them.

Rei, she herself had lacerations but used her quirk to freeze them before she could bleed out to death. Even when the doctors attempted to get to her to calm down to work on her injuries, Rei would not calm down until she knew her children were safe. They had to put her under before they could help her. Rei feels that if she had continued her work as a hero, or at least continued her rigorous training plan she followed while still being a pro-hero, there could have been a different outcome. Blaming herself for not being 100 percent for her family when they needed her the most.

Despite crashing through her home, leaving behind a wake of destruction… Fuyumi came out of that with a concussion, a skull fracture, a two broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder bone. The doctors explained the only thing that saved her was unknowingly activating her quirk at the very last minute. She had covered her entire body with ice, toughening her body to take on the impact without too many consequences.

She along with Natsuo, were both set up in an intensive temperature-controlled room as their bodies would recover faster in a colder environment.

Natsuo, for his own part, nearly suffered a heat stroke for being so close to Toya’s flames, concussion, nearly biting his on tongue off, and dealing with a broken elbow. Compared to everyone else in his family, he was far more sensitive to heat. It had gotten so bad, he had slipped into a temporary coma because of his brother’s usage of his quirk and the over use of his own quirk, it caused his body to over-work itself to that point.

Toya, due to using his quirk for the first time and it being unable to control it… it caused massive damage to his body. All throughout his body, it’s covered in severe buns that he had to be put into a medical induced coma to help him with the pain. However, before this could occur, he had accidentally activated his quirk again which caused more damaged to his himself.

Shoto, despite having burns around his upper left arm, the left side of his face that reached up just pass his hairline to midway to his cheek, came out unscathed compared to his siblings. The doctors made mention that despite the burns would heal, they will forever leave behind a permanent remainder of what occurred that day. Despite this, he should have a full recovery.

This event changed the Todoroki Family forever…