Biting Through Corrosive Blood

Prologue: He Was

A/N: haha another long fic,,,,,idk why i do this to myself, I haven't watch beyblade in years so forgive me if something is inaccurate or ooc. We never got to see much of shu in the snake pit i dont think and canon norman (and to some extent boa) defo wasnt that active in shu's life but hey! Its fanfiction for a reason.

Anyways, the first few chapters (if i make it that far haha) will be in Norman's perspective then i'll try to mix it up a bit. We know virtually nothing of the ppl in the snake pit so a big part is just hc! There will be the occasional swearing, like 1 swear word this chapter i think.

Mostly a review of Norman's life ig?? Cause of this, mostly thoughts but some dialogue should take place next chapter...hopefully. Hope you enjoy reading!

(Using the dub names/titles in this since it was the version I originally watched in.) 

—

He was Norman Tarver.

A lost child, scurrying through the streets of New York, living off whatever scraps of food he could find. He was, on most days desperate and hungry, on some, spiteful and arrogant and on those rare days, lonely and foolishly longing. Still he pushed forward, carefully weaving in and out of crowds on stealing bread from small, unsuspecting vendors.

Norman Tarver he was, nothing and a nobody, standing firmly with a name thinly veling him like a well-worn coat.

He wasn't always familiar with beyblading and held very little interest in it, but he must've picked it up during the hype, when the concept of beys evolving were still high in the air and out of reach. Not that he really did it much, Noctemis was a gem on its own.

(A teen around his age was waving his shiny new bey around, screaming about giving money if you could beat him. Norman watched, intent in his golden eyes as slipped away silently, sinking into the shadows.

That night he robbed a particularly wealthy man in a tiny, unguarded workshop and took a bey, a dark purple one, rimmed with gold and moss green. The bey—Noctemis was a steady weight in his hand. Norman tucked it in his pocket without thinking, before disappearing into the night.

He met the brash teen again the next morning, beating him without blinking, he slumped back into the dark, he didn't think much of the encounter, pocketing the bey once again. It almost felt warm, pressing gently against his skin through the thin fabric of his jacket.

Almost.)

//

"Well then...Gold Eye. Welcome to the Snake Pit."

Theodore Glass was not a nice man. Norman Tarver, now in his young adult years, was well aware of this. Not that he had much of a choice, Theodore knew of his criminal record—no matter how insignificant—and oh was the man eager to play a little dirty. He invited him carefully—a new project as he put it, a little too much glee for his liking, gesturing carefully to Noctemis who was now in pieces after a rough match.

Norman held it with care, tightening his grip slightly as fierce gold eyes met amused turquoise. The Snake Pit was a cult, quite a roundabout way did Theodore say it but that was ultimately what it was. He would have to move to Mexico and live in an overgrown temple in a jungle. He had to actively fight back a snort, whether disgusted or confused or even just to express how, pardon him, but fucking stupid that is will stay between him and God. Then again, he's never believed in God anyways.

There are about a million red flags going off in Norman's head, even with his limited education. Yet as Theodore walks away and towards his sleek black car, Norman goes trailing after. Jostling Noctemis, almost causing it to tumble out of his grasp, Norman doesn't look back.