#But it's less to do with a couple individual words that appear often and more abt the conditions surrounding their production.

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: Ray x Sand Character & Relationship Theories

So a fun game I like to play before a series airs, is to speculate on the characters and the possible direction or conflicts that may arise (based only on what we've seen so far). An initial delve into Ray and Sand as individuals and as a couple.

RAY

"Ray is quite spoiled. He wants to be pampered by everyone." Being spoilt often means getting your way, and hence unable to compromise or settle for less. Ray loves attention, which can lead to an inflated sense of self-importance or narcissism. The issue with this is your identity becomes so easily informed by those around you. Without attention to thrive on, Ray may feel invisible or inadequate. And when feeling insecure, they may feel driven to do things to purposely draw attention to themselves (exhibitionist-like behaviour or throwing tantrums/sulking). Attention only supplies a fleeting sense of validation. It's nowhere close to true fulfilment.

A spoilt nature can also manifest as clinginess or possessiveness. ‘This is mine', 'this belongs to me and only me.' As Khaotung puts it, Ray likes being 'pampered' aka doted on by those around him. So when Mew is swiped away by Top from under his nose, Ray is clearly annoyed. This is partly due to Top being his love rival, but I believe it's more simple than that. Mew is his friend. Once Top comes into the picture, Mew naturally spends much less time with him. Possessiveness is the close relative of (petty) jealousy. You don't want 'your people' spending time with anyone else. You ideally want them revolving their time around you, because they validate your existence.

"Be patient with his hot temper, because Ray is easily frustrated." Confrontational, brash, and a loose cannon when angry. Ray seems to react on emotion rather than rationale. If things aren't to his liking, his immediate knee jerk reaction is to act out. Essentially, he's a bit of a brat. "He's going to be straightforward. His words might not be appropriate. Ray might just say what he wants honestly." Ray isn't deterred by formalities or niceties. You’ll get the truth whether you like it or not.

"Deep down, I think he's someone who needs love." "So if you're his friend, he might fall for you too." These points Khaotung shared are the most intriguing in my opinion. It implies that it's not Mew exclusively that Ray could have developed a crush on. It could have easily been another close friend in an alternative version of events. Ray may latch onto others far too easily (especially towards those who give him positive attention and reinforcement, possibly).

SAND

First emphasises that Sand's financial situation has a huge bearing on his character. "He works to earn his living, thus he must be patient when doing things to ensure his survival... he has to work many jobs to earn money". Sand appears to be a musician who side hustles as a sex worker (which is at least two jobs). He has to be resourceful and pragmatic, especially in how to set his priorities in order.

"Sand doesn't have time. He's someone you must approach first." If they say my treat, they suddenly become more interesting to him." It requires more effort for someone to get to know Sand. I speculate that Ray might begin by 'hiring' Sand under the pretence of work. If Sand doesn't have much free time to spare, this would allow Ray to see him if he offers to 'pay for it'. Even though it's in Sand's best interests to pursue connections that will benefit him, he makes exceptions for those he considers his friends. This tells me that Sand has a strong righteous and moral compass. No matter how tough his own circumstances may be, he'll prioritise those he cares about.

"You will see his patience." Patience nurtures a willingness to listen and a willingness to compromise. Patience suggests registered and thoughtful decision-making rather than haste. Unfortunately it can cause others to push your boundaries, under the assumption you'll be more forgiving. In the trailer, he's frequently on the receiving end of Ray's wrath. Everyone has a limit, and it's likely that Ray will test Sand's patience to the point he snaps.

"People around him might sense tension and pressure from him sometimes." It's no surprise that when you live on the edge, you can be highly strung. His circumstances would understandably make him less tolerant to 'first world problems' or unnecessary shenanigans. Sand seems like the type to have a no nonsense policy for mind games. He could be a voice of reason in the series, as we see him trying to talk sense into Nick regarding Boston’s treatment of him. I have a hunch Sand will act out of genuine concern for Ray in a lot of instances, which gets rebuffed or misunderstood as being overly nosy or preachy.

RAY x SAND: Potential Conflicts

Sand's Financial Status

Mew, Ray, Boston and Top all seem to move in the same circles - appearing fairly wealthy. Often seen in homes with huge pools, driving nice cars and dress fairly dapper too. Ray has a ridiculously lavish bedroom (I mean fur pillows??) Whereas I think Sand and Nick may live together, and are on the other end of the spectrum. Sand works multiple jobs and Nick works in a phone shop.

When there is a wealth imbalance, it's common for those lesser off to have a complex around this (being in a position of disadvantage and seen as inferior). "Do I need to pamper you and call you Sugar Daddy? I don't know how to do that." By definition, 'Sugar Daddy' is usually someone older/richer who lavishes gifts on their 'partner' in exchange for sexual favours. Sand's cynic quip is a little dig at their dynamic, alluding to the fact that he doesn't know how to play to those in richer circles.

"It's clear that you just can't take care of what you have." Top mocks Sand in a way that could support this theory. That he can't take care of Ray and support his lifestyle. Ray also says, "You think my life will be better with you?" Which could be interpreted as: 'What value do you bring to my life (when I already have everything)?' It also has an air of 'Who are you to comment on my life when we come from different worlds entirely?'

Ray is High Maintenance or 'Troubled'

"I'll never take someone like you as my boyfriend." Which is Sand declaring: 'You/Your type are way too much trouble for me'. (Famous last words). He also says, "You should save your money for a shrink." Ray likely comes with baggage, bad habits or more serious issues. Whatever this may be, it's very clear to Sand that Ray would be too challenging a prospect as a boyfriend. Though there is undoubtedly attraction between them, Sand's wariness about these issues are strong enough for him to be hesitant about going further.

Another curious detail is in one scene Ray's arm is in a sling, and another he appears to have a bruised lip and cheek. Ray clearly has a volatile temper, which is a probable cause for trouble. But something tells me that Ray may have a far more underlying problem that would warrant Sand suggesting he see a shrink. Anger management issues feels too on the nose.

More Than Just Bed Friends

At the start of the series, Ray is pining over Mew. Somewhere along the line he starts to pursue Sand more seriously instead, though Sand doesn't consider Ray as boyfriend material. "Can you make an exception for me?"

"Can you stop thinking about something else for just one second? Focus on me for once, will you?" Sand seems frustrated that Ray blows hot and cold, which means he doesn't really know where he stands. Ray has either given very mixed signals from the get go or majorly yo-yos after Mew is definitely taken. "Stop poking your nose into my business. What are we to each other?" "Now that you already stepped into my life, I won't let you walk away." One minute he's telling Sand to piss off, and the next he's vowing not to let Sand out of his sights.

The ultimate conflict being 'so, what are we'?

Ray and Sand are referred to as 'Bed Friends' but Boston and Nick are referred to as 'Friends with Benefits'. (I thought this meant the same thing, but is there a distinction? Someone enlighten me if so). In the context of this series, it seems 'Bed Friends' refers to sex that leads to friendship. Whereas 'Friends with Benefits' are two friends that have sex regularly but don't share a romantic relationship.

-----

There will be plenty to analyse as soon as the first episode airs this week. Super interested to hear what others have been speculating is in store for us. We will not be prepared.

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 4: I'm Not Sure if Anybody Understands

Summary: The Avengers try to learn more about their newest team member.

Author's Notes: Reminder - this is a continuation of the same song from the last chapter. ❤️

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog (less than 100 followers, haha) and reblogs really help me out <3 Also, feel free to send me a message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list.

Next chapter should be coming November 5th.

Content Warnings: Some alcohol mentions. Angst if you squint?

Word Count: 6,762

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Some Nights - fun.

Well, some nights, I wish that this all would end 'Cause I could use some friends for a change And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again Some nights, I always win (I always win) But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know

“Hi, we’re Your Friendly Neighborhood Bar Band, and we’re here to play some music tonight.”

With the golden warmth of stage lights washing over her, Theo grinned at the cheers that came from Jack’s introduction and started plunking out the opening notes of their first song.

She started playing with the group shortly after accepting her position as an attending at New York Presbyterian, having been introduced by a colleague whose brother happened to be their drummer. That was a few years before; since then, the group had grown to add a couple other members and expanded their repertoire to cover almost anything and everything. For Theo, it was as much an opportunity to keep herself learning and practicing new instruments as anything else. Music was one of the few things in the world that brought her any sort of solace, as it was something her parents both placed a great value in, so any excuse to create music was welcome. 

Theo didn’t run the show - they all rotated out who fronted certain songs, and she was not needed to provide on-stage banter - but she did switch instruments most often, as she was the only one who had taken the initiative to learn all of the one-off instruments for the times when a song had a saxophone or a trumpet and it just didn’t sound right without that specific instrument. 

It was the last show she would play before news broke of the newest addition to the Avengers. Knowing full-well that meant she would need to step back from pre-planned appearances  or shows, she did her best to soak up each and every moment of the evening in hopes of tucking it away for a rainy day in the future. The stupid jokes that Jack told the crowd, Kelsie moving around so much that she inevitably crashed into Theo mid-song, the drunk guy in the audience who shouted at them to play Wonderwall, the scent of stale beer and sweat under half-lit fluorescents… 

Well, she soaked up everything except for the crowd of famous faces in the back. 

The Avengers lurked near the bar, each member’s posture stiff and uncomfortable as they watched the crowd drunkenly dancing and singing along to every word. For spies and assassins, they weren’t exactly great at blending in. If anything, they stuck out like a sore thumb.

She should have known they’d find their way there.

After pulling the stunt at the Avengers’ briefing, it was only a matter of time before they sought Theo out for some observation of their own. Catching the entire team off-guard was incredibly satisfying and certainly got under their skin… Which was exactly the point. If they thought she was predictable and stable, they’d trust her and want her to stay. And with the individual and collective egos in that room, she needed to knock them all down a peg or two. Pulling the rug out from under the entire team was an effective reminder that they weren’t as prepared as they thought they were.

And boy, did they need that reminder.

She’d seen the videos of their attempts at taking on shadow beasts, and if her initial suspicions were correct about the source of the pests, the Avengers certainly had no idea what they were in for… 

Screaming cheers from the audience snapped Theo out of her wandering thoughts. She pushed the irritation about presence from her mind; the Avengers already took up too much of her headspace. She didn’t need to let them ruin the night. 

No, she had a show to play and she’d be damned if she didn’t make the most of it.

She shook her head, bringing her attention back to Jack as he worked the crowd.

“Theo Amaris on the… well shit, she plays pretty much everything at one point or another. Piano, guitar, vocals, violin, cello, sax, trumpet— not only can she play pretty much every instrument and make it look easy, but she’s got two fucking Grammy nominations for it.”

At the announcement, Theo’s cheeks burned. 

The nominations weren’t for writing music - a friend of a friend was working at a recording studio and they needed someone to come in and help with recording a bunch of parts for a major recording musician. Theo was a broke med student in the middle of her residency at the time and well, the gig paid well. All she had to do was show up, play the instruments, sign an NDA, and she got more than her fair share of pay. Of course, now that the album was out and her name was in the song credits the NDA no longer applied, but at the time she wondered if the paycheck was more to keep quiet about it and less about recording the music.

The album ended up getting two grammy nominations - album of the year and country album of the year. 

“I didn’t write the songs, so I don’t know if it’s fair to say the nominations are mine… I was recruited to play a few instrumental parts, and I did it because I was a broke med student who needed money!” Theo interjected, earning a laugh and cheers from the crowd. “I didn’t even know who the recordings were for until a week before the album came out.”

“Theo what, like it’s hard? Amaris here, making us all look bad as she casually racks up Grammy nominations while in motherfucking med school. Actually, hey look, our next song is from that album!” Jack replied, earning a louder round of screams from the crowd. 

Anyone who had been to a show of theirs probably knew what was coming, since Jack liked to point it out every single time they played - but tonight, Theo found herself wishing he hadn’t revealed that detail… After all, she had a bunch of superheroes watching who would definitely ask questions about that endeavor, and she wasn’t overly excited about any unnecessary interaction.

“Yeah, yeah… okay, let’s get this over with.” Theo forced herself to laugh, but shook her head. “This is Everything has Changed.”

Of the songs she helped record, Everything has Changed was one of her favorites; she always thought her sister would have loved the song. It was light and sweet and romantic, and Rae was always a romantic at heart.  

God, what she’d give to see her sister again.

“All I knew this morning when I woke / is I know something now / know something now I didn’t before / and all I’ve seen since eighteen hours ago / is green eyes and freckles and your smile / in the back of my mind making me feel like / I just wanna know you better…” 

From the back of the crowd, a pair of green eyes caught hers, and she couldn’t help but smile.

If there was anyone she wanted to know better, it was the intrepid Asgardian sorcerer who had long shed the reputation of wanting to conquer Earth and replaced it with equal parts charm, mystery, and wit sharper than the daggers he fought with. The sole interaction she’d had with him only increased her curiosity: Loki was one of the few, if not the only Avenger who didn’t express reservations about her before they were aware she was in the briefing, and he seemed almost amused at the way she pulled the wool over the others’ eyes.

If the way he studied her, obscured in shadows from the back of the crowd, was any indication, maybe he wanted to know her better too.

So this is it? I sold my soul for this?  Washed my hands of that for this?  I miss my mom and dad for this? No, when I see stars, when I see –  When I see stars, that's all they are When I hear songs,  They sound like a swan - so come on…

Midgardian sports were utterly dull.

Loki would never interact with such activities if he had the choice. Midgardian sports were slow, overwhelmingly attended by drunken old men who could be outsmarted by a child, and required little skill to compete. The fact that the activity brought pleasure to anyone was confounding; what was even more confounding was that Theo willingly participated in such activities - as it turned out, she played the sport which Midgardians could not even agree on a name for: soccer, also known as football in locations which actually applied logic to the naming of their athletic endeavors.

Of course, the moment Maximoff discovered this morsel of information about the newest recruit, she insisted that the Avengers attend Theo’s next match and cheer her on.

…Which meant that when she and Thor badgered Loki into joining, Loki spent the entire journey to the event pondering ways he might slip away without anyone being the wiser. Yet, the blinding grin and exuberant babbling of his brother as they arrived at the match diminished Loki’s resolve. Clearly the older Odinson was thrilled that the younger brother ventured out to attend, and he did not have the heart to ruin that enthusiasm. Maximoff, meanwhile, was absolutely buzzing over the opportunity to hopefully bond with Theo, chattering constantly about how nice it was going to be to have another female around the tower and all the things they would do together.

Even with hats and sunglasses to obscure the more defining features of their appearances, having their visages plastered on televisions and across the internet meant it was nearly impossible to go anywhere without recognition. Sure enough, they barely found a place in the stands for the group to sit when the hushed comments and glances started. Less than thrilled about the eyes on him, Loki kept his attention fixed on the field and remained quiet in hopes of not drawing any additional attention.

In theory, the Midgardians had moved on from New York. Thor insisted on sharing what actually caused the invasion as a way to prove Loki was not a threat, even though it left Loki feeling rather embarrassed that his weakness was put on display. The Midgardians, it seemed, were more forgiving than Loki anticipated. He was not ridiculed for being so feeble-minded that someone could control him. Even so, he would be foolish to believe they had entirely forgotten about what took place or what Loki was capable of. Whether or not they would admit it, they likely still regarded him as a threat.

He tried to shake the thought by focusing on the scene in front of him.

Down on the field, the two teams were preparing for the match. Spotting the reason for their attendance was easy - between the silver braid swishing as she dove in front of a net and the different color uniform from everyone around her, she stood out like a sore thumb. Even with the padded jersey, shin guards, and protective gloves to add bulk, it was clear her height was disproportionate to her frame. 

“Starting goalie for Duke all four years, captain her senior year.” Romanoff leaned into the group as she shared the information. “Multiple offers to go pro, but she turned them down to go to med school.”

“Is Duke good?” Maximoff asked.

“Consistently one of the top ranked college women’s soccer programs.” Parker answered, “one of MJ’s friends was scouted to play there.”

“What’s the band on her arm?”

“Captain band,” Romanoff replied, “means she’s leading the group when on the field.”

As the team wrapped up a drill, one of the other players approached Theo. After listening to whatever the other player had to say, Theo glanced over at the stands. The moment she noticed the Avengers was obvious by the scowl and the dramatic eye-roll that crossed her face. 

“Brother,” Thor nudged Loki with his elbow, “I’ve never seen a Midgardian who could scowl quite like you, but it seems you may have competition.” 

Loki turned to find Thor smirking at him, to which he responded by arching an eyebrow at him.

Fortunately, Thor was unable to find any additional opportunities to drag Loki into the mix of conversation, as shortly thereafter the players were brought on the field and the match began.

Though the Avengers were attending a soccer match, Loki found himself less focused on the sport and more interested in using the event as a character study. 

If the team was an army, Theo was its commander. She constantly called out instructions and warnings, all the while strategizing and directing her team members as though they were her troops. This was a drastic departure from the almost chaotic, mischievous woman that crashed the team’s briefing. If this was what she was like when placed in a high-pressure situation, perhaps Fury was wise to seek out her involvement. 

It was fascinating to watch her work. Loki found himself ignoring the action at the opposite end of the field in favor of trying to detect what Theo saw that influenced her commands. She moved with laser-sharp precision to prevent any scoring opportunities, all the while continuing her command of the troops.

Perhaps there was more to this particular sport than Loki realized, as it wasn’t long before he found himself actually enjoying the spectacle. It certainly helped that the other team provided a formidable challenge, with neither team scoring during the match or in overtime. 

Somehow, that was not the end. Apparently, the final tie-breaker was a “penalty kick shootout.” While the teams prepared themselves for the challenge, Shuri explained the process to those who were unfamiliar (which included Loki, though he would not admit it).

Each team alternated attempts at scoring. Theo’s team scored on their first shot. The opposing team aimed for the lower left corner, but Theo was too fast - she dove to the ground with arms outstretched, catching the ball before it could enter the net. The second penalty kick from Theo’s team was also a success, this time directed to the opposite side of the net.

When the opposing team took their second shot, Loki studied Theo as she prepared to defend against the other team. She crouched low, hands up and ready to catch the ball at a moment’s notice. Her attention was not on the ball, but just beyond; when the other player approached the ball, she watched their body for clues about where they aimed. 

Top right corner was the target, but they overshot and the ball went out of bounds.

“So if Theo’s team scores and the other team misses one more time, Theo’s team wins.” Shuri whispered as if she had a particularly exciting and scandalous rumor to share, though nothing about what she divulged was private information and it was far from salacious.

The swish of the soccer ball hitting the back of the net confirmed a third goal for Theo’s team.

“No pressure on Theo,” Barnes remarked, “She’s about to decide the championship.”

Right - Maximoff had mentioned something about a league championship among the five hundred other remarks about the Silver Shadow, but Loki hadn’t really been listening.

According to Parker, it was an incredible kick. The ball curved as it flew through the air, heading for the top left corner of the net. The spiderling claimed it was a shot that most professional goalies wouldn’t have been able to stop. There was no way Theo could stop it.

A flash of neon purple careened towards the top left corner, getting enough air to punch the ball out of the way before diving to the ground. 

Not even a moment after she stopped the shot, raucous cheering erupted from the stands. Maximoff and Shuri squealed, jumping up and down. Parker, Barnes, Belova, Wilson, and Thor openly wore their surprise on their faces, arms spread wide as they whooped and hollered. Romanoff and Rogers were not as open in their surprise, but they still leapt to their feet with excitement; then again, even Loki was on his feet cheering. 

Pushing herself up to her knees, Theo whipped around, confusion rampant across her face as she checked whether the ball made it into the net. When no ball was found, she turned back to the field, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as she located the ball’s final resting place - about a quarter of the way down the field, next to the sideline.

Theo sprung to her feet, joining in on the celebration as she realized that she had, in fact, stopped the shot. Her teammates surrounded her, everyone cheering as they jumped on top of each other and embraced. 

Once the adrenaline of the match wore off, Loki grew anxious to return to the tower. The others, however, insisted on staying long enough to congratulate Theo, as they felt it would help her feel more welcome. 

Theo, however, seemed perfectly content to avoid the Avengers. Not far from where they sat was another group who she must have recognized, because she ran over to them and greeted them with hugs, conversing with them for far too long to be considered idle chatter. Most of her posse seemed to be close to her age, though one small child and one petite, elderly woman were among the group. It was the elderly woman who pointed towards the Avengers and made some remark; they were just far enough away that Loki did not hear what she said, though the smirk that accompanied it set him on edge.

When the others departed and no one else served to distract her, Theo finally approached the Avengers. The excitement from speaking to the other group had been replaced with open apprehension as she drew near, perhaps feeling as uncertain about the interaction as Loki felt about the Avengers’ presence.

“Um… hey,” Theo chewed the inside of her cheek as she offered a half-wave to the group.

“Hey Theo - Congratulations!” Maximoff beamed, “You were great out there!” 

“Thanks. I didn’t realize you were coming to the game…” Theo’s gaze flitted around the group. “You know I start on Monday, right?“

“Yeah, but we thought it would be nice to come cheer you on,” Romanoff said, “Though your reaction when you first spotted us was something else…”

“My what?” Theo furrowed her brow, glancing around the group.

“The eye roll and scowl that rivaled Loki’s…” Thor said, arching an eyebrow at Theo, who appeared utterly baffled, only for realization to dawn on her face moments later. 

“Oh - shit, that wasn’t you,” Theo let out a quick, nervous laugh, shaking her head. “Allie, one of my teammates - her ex-boyfriend was here and she saw him. He’s been trying to get back together with her, but she can do way better. That had nothing to do with you.”

When she was met with a collective look of suspicion, she laughed a second time, a lilting sound that floated through the air. “You really think I’m going to lie with the God of Lies right here?”

Though he hid it well, the moniker made Loki cringe; it was one of many that reminded the world of his past, insidious and ever-looming over him like a storm cloud. 

Everyone stared at Loki, waiting for his assessment.

“I do not believe she is lying,” he concluded, “though I must agree that it was quite a dramatic response. I almost wish to meet whoever the expression was directed towards, as they must have truly annoyed you to garner such a reaction.”

At that, Theo snorted. “No, no you don’t want to meet him. He’s a waste of space.” She paused, shifting the duffel bag she carried around to her opposite side. “Well… thanks for coming. I’ll see you Monday? Unless you just randomly show up at something else… But I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything else you can crash, unless you showed up at my job… Which I wouldn’t recommend, because that usually involves someone getting hurt.”

“We are pretty good at that,” Wilson replied, winking at her. “But we’ll hold off for now.”

She laughed, bidding them good night before disappearing into the dark.

For someone who had no desire to become an Avenger, she seemed rather amiable. Perhaps that was her nature, or maybe there was something else at play.

The question of what that might be plagued Loki the entire way home.

Well, that is it, guys, that is all  Five minutes in, and I'm bored again Ten years of this, I'm not sure  If anybody understands This one is not for the folks at home, Sorry to leave, Mom, I had to go Who the fuck wants to die alone  All dried up in the desert sun?

The night of the newest Avenger’s introduction to the public, the whole team assembled for Stark’s party. 

At this point, it was practically a routine. New members would be announced, the whole team would woo the press so they would get ideal coverage, and then they’d settle into training the new members and sending them out on missions.

These parties were nothing difficult. Centuries of being a prince on Asgard equipped Loki with the decorum and etiquette to charm his way through formal social gatherings. Unlike Thor, who won his acclaim through battle, Loki did not have the helm of a warrior to win him praise; instead, he earned recognition through skilled diplomacy and knowing how to work a room. It was nowhere near his favorite way to spend an evening, but there were worse ways to pass the time.

Besides, his ability to navigate these events was a significant reason his reputation had improved among the Midgardians. After saying the right things and charming the right people, New York seemed to be a distant memory for them. In some ways, Loki envied their ability to forget the incident so easily. 

The circumstances around the event still haunted him, though he’d never outright admit it. 

Nevertheless, once he made his rounds and played the part of charming Asgardian Prince for the press, Loki preferred to situate himself near the bar. It offered an easy view of the room, provided easy access to beverages, and kept him far enough from the dancing that when Maximoff and Barnes inevitably had too much to drink and wanted him to join them on the dance floor, he could easily evade them. Midgardian liquor didn’t do much to intoxicate Loki, but he found that he did have a taste for cocktails he could sip throughout the evening. The other bonus of having a beverage in hand was that it made him appear more approachable. 

Given his history, anything that made him look less threatening was a benefit.

Theo was easy to spot, silver hair tumbling down her back in loose curls. She wore a black jumpsuit with no back and a long keyhole across the front that highlighted her chest. It was a smart choice - she knew she would be on display and dressed to kill. The jumpsuit balanced power with just enough skin to provide sex appeal, yet provided enough coverage that no one would clutch their pearls at the sight of her. 

From his preferred spot near the bar, Loki observed Theo’s interactions with the important guests of the party. She stuck close to Stark’s side, smiling and nodding as they went from guest to guest. She carried herself with grace; shoulders back and chest out as though she were a dancer, gracefully flowing from group to group throughout the evening. However, it seemed as if she hardly spoke a word. Stark looked perfectly at home with a beautiful woman on each side - opposite Theo, Potts seemed like a natural as she caught up with party guests, laughing and chatting without reservation.

Occasionally, Theo would scan the room and lock eyes with Loki - when they did, Loki would smirk and raise an eyebrow at her, while Theo would widen her eyes in what appeared to be a silent plea for saving her from the small talk. 

“So, what do you think of the new girl?”

Loki turned to find Romanoff next to him, leaning up against the bar as she stole a sip from his drink. 

“That was mine.” Loki commented, ignoring her initial statement. A perfect red lipstick print now adorned his glass.

The Black Widow pursed her lips for a moment, glancing up as she seemed to swirl the beverage in her mouth. “An old fashioned - did you order it because you’re old?” Belova teased, appearing next to the Black Widow, who pushed his drink back to him. 

Loki rolled his eyes, though a begrudging smile flickered across his lips.

“What do you think of her?” Romanoff’s gaze returned to the party, taking in the scene. Potts had stepped away, leaving Stark and Theo to continue their tour of guests. 

“She seems… tolerable.” Loki remarked with a small shrug.

“High praise from you,” Romanoff said, still watching the Silver Shadow. 

“I heard she’s already giving Stark a hard time.” Belova leaned in, smirking as she glanced between her peers.

“Stark would certainly benefit from developing a bit of humility,” Loki mused, avoiding the lipstick mark as he took a drink.

Romanoff snickered, while Belova let out a snort of laughter.

“She made you laugh.” Romanoff casually mentioned, studying Loki for a reaction.

Loki simply cocked an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to state whatever her point was.

“She made you laugh, you say she’s tolerable, and you’re over here watching her instead of making your usual rounds. I’d say you’re interested in her,” Romanoff concluded with a smirk.

“Are you not curious about her?” Loki inquired.

“Oh, I’m curious - ” Romanoff snickered, “I’m curious about how someone managed to attract your attention so quickly. Normally you take a while to warm up to people.”

“You’ve not spoken to her yet?” It was a surprising piece of information: Romanoff normally made a point to meet new team members right away.

“No, I haven’t had a chance to.” Romanoff shrugged. “But based on your response to her, I’m clearing time on my calendar and making a point to talk to her.”

“I would have guessed based on her attire that you helped her select her outfit.” Loki contemplated. “It looks very… Romanoff-esque.”

“No - I asked Wanda and she didn’t help either. That was all the new girl. Which reminds me, I want to ask her where she got that jumpsuit. It’s cute.”  Romanoff commented, tapping her chin.

Stark stepped away as Theo engaged in a conversation with a pair of journalists. Despite her polite smiles and nods, it only took a moment for her eyes to start roving the crowd as she chatted, subtly searching around for an out. 

“You gonna go rescue Rapunzel?” Belova teased, noticing the way Theo’s eyes landed on Loki. 

“I thought the Widows were desperate for an opportunity to talk to her.” Loki said, turning around to flag the bartender for a refill.

“Nah, go rescue the princess. After all, you’re a prince.” Romanoff pushed off from the bar, standing up. “If you bring her a drink, I’m sure she’d love it.”

“You say that like I’ve never spoken to a woman before.”

“You’ve picked up plenty of women, and men,” Romanoff clarified, “but given you’ll actually need to talk to her and not just seduce her, I figured you could use a tip or two.” She winked, sauntering into the crowd with sister in tow before Loki could reply.

Damn those women.

As the bartender approached, Loki hesitated - what would she even want to drink? Normally he’d consider wine or champagne, but she didn’t seem like she’d want any of the standard options. 

They had similar styles and personalities; perhaps it was a safe choice to order the same drink as he enjoyed for the evening. 

With the extra beverage in hand, he made his way across the room to Theo.

“… I’m very grateful for the opportunity and the kindness the team has already shown me-” Theo politely answered one of the journalists as Loki arrived. “- Oh! Hey Loki.” She perked up, offering him a warm smile and a slight nod, which he returned. 

Loki turned to the journalists and greeted them, flashing his most charming smile and honeyed pleasantries. They blushed, having warmed up to him over the course of his tenure as an Avenger. As much as he didn’t enjoy the show, he was a stunning performer.

Returning his attention to the newest Avenger, he offered the second beverage to Theo. “With all the speaking you’ve had to engage in this evening, I thought you might appreciate something to drink.”

A grateful smile crossed her face as she accepted the drink. She gave it a sniff and a sip, her smile expanding to a grin as she realized what was in the glass. “Old-Fashioned?”

Loki nodded, impressed that she knew what it was. “Given we seem to have similar taste in apparel, I thought we might also have a similar taste in beverages.”

Theo chuckled, taking another sip. “You’re not wrong.”

Confusion regarding the comment was obvious, based on the narrowed eyes and arched brows that both journalists wore. They glanced between the two Avengers, as if waiting for elaboration.

“When I first met Loki, we unintentionally wore matching outfits,” Theo quickly explained, “right down to the identical shoes.”

“Well, it seems you managed to figure out your outfits so you wouldn’t have the same issue tonight!” One of the journalists replied, eliciting a small, forced smile from Theo. While Loki didn’t find the comment amusing, he also forced a smile to play along.

“Theo, there is someone I would like you to meet.” Loki spoke up, sending a quick wink to the newest Avenger. Turning back to the journalists, he flashed his most dazzling smile. “Would it be alright if I borrowed the guest of honor for a little while? I promise to return her.”

“Of course!” The journalists grinned, falling for the silver tongue’s charm. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Amaris. We look forward to seeing what you accomplish!”

“Thank you, pleasure to meet you as well.” Theo bowed her head with another small smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. The forced smile could have been deemed her trademark expression of the evening. Perhaps she was not keen to be trapped in a room full of strangers.

Loki took her free hand and began to weave through the crowd. Glancing to the side, he slipped through a doorway and down a hall before ducking through another door to a private balcony, pulling Theo behind him the entire time. 

When they arrived, Theo glanced around at the empty balcony and back at Loki, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

“You appeared as though you wanted a reprieve from idle chatter,” Loki explained, dropping her hand. “This is where I escape to when I’ve had more than my fill of Stark’s parties.”

“Ooh, a secret hiding spot!” A grin curled over Theo’s lips, and for the first time all night he saw her eyes light up. “Thanks for the out - this shit was exactly the opposite of how I want to spend my time.”

“Would it surprise you to learn that most of us would rather spend our time anywhere but these insipid gatherings?” Loki said, turning to look out across the city. “I suspect Stark and my oaf of a brother are the only two who truly enjoy these… Events.”

“So why do you do it, then?” The question was asked earnestly, if her expression was anything to go by. “Can’t you just say no?”

“I suppose it would depend…” Loki paused to sip his beverage. “I have sat out my fair share of these gatherings, though they have also been… Beneficial… For my reputation. Generally speaking, I attend these functions so I minimize the incessant blundering and badgering Thor inevitably would subject me to should I refuse.”

“Didn’t peg you as someone who could be bossed around by your brother.” 

There was a hint of teasing in Theo’s comment, but Loki still bristled at her words. “My brother hardly bosses me around, mortal. I simply understand that tolerating these functions serves me well, even if they are not the manner in which I care to pass time.”

Theo snickered, but let the subject fall to the side in favor of amiable silence.

“I’ve been curious to ask - how was it that you came into your magic?”

Crossing her arms, Theo leaned against the balcony rail. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve all the time in the world.” Loki mirrored her posture, catching her eyes with a sly smile. “I am certainly curious.”

“It involves another realm and a case of mistaken identity.” Theo answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. “You can use your imagination.”

“What realm?” Loki pressed, finding himself rather amused by the way Theo seemed to dodge each of his questions. “It is difficult to imagine unless I have a sense of where it takes place.”

A sigh and rolled eyes were Theo’s initial response. “On a scale from one to ten of topics I’d like to discuss, I’d rather deepthroat a chainsaw than talk about where I came from.” The sarcasm in her comment was amusing, yet it was obvious the subject was uncomfortable.

Loki, sensing that it wouldn’t be a good idea to push the topic, turned to look out across the skyline. “So… not a pleasant location. Duly noted.”

“It’s a story for another time.” Theo flashed a surprisingly haunted, yet grateful smile. She turned back to gaze at the city, keeping her eyes on the skyline in the distance as she continued. “So, Loki, prince of Asgard, god of mischief and trickery… Give me the scoop. Is Sleipnir real?”

Loki nearly fell over laughing from the surprise change of subjects. Of all the questions he’d been asked, Sleipnir was typically a subject most were too afraid to ask of, much less within an initial conversation.

She certainly seemed fearless.

When he finally regained his composure, he turned to find Theo beaming with a quiet pride. 

“Hardly - It was a tale spread for a bet that perhaps was too tantalizing for Midgardians, as they’ve clearly not forgotten it.” A grin curled across his lips, letting a chuckle escape. “However, there are other tales. As a child, I knew just enough to be dangerous…” Loki started, launching into a series of tales from his youth of the tricks he pulled on his brother and the trouble he caused. A sparkle came to his eye as he began to weave imagery of a tiny, doe-eyed and raven-haired Loki causing all kinds of chaos in Asgard. 

He only paused when the pair both laughed so hard that they had to stop and gather themselves, both wiping tears from their eyes.

My heart is breaking for my sister And the con that she called "love" But then I look into my nephew's eyes Man, you wouldn't believe The most amazing things That can come from Some terrible nights

Letting someone else talk was a desperately needed reprieve.

It wasn’t that Theo was out of her element; on the contrary, she was more than comfortable with rubbing elbows with the high and mighty. She’d done this hundreds, no, thousands of times before. Granted, it was a long time ago and in an entirely different place, when everything she understood about the world was almost opposite to how it stood now; regardless, she wasn’t out of practice.

Still, she hadn’t anticipated that her first day as a member of the Avengers would play out quite the way it did. Tony Stark’s ego wasn’t a surprise - he had a head so big it could be seen from another solar system. He was, at least, nice enough to take her around and introduce her to people instead of throwing her straight to the wolves. A Norse god with the personality of a golden retriever talking her ear off as he gave her a tour of the building she’d be living and working in? That was a bit of a surprise. She thought Thor would be more hot-headed and less… cheerful. The eyes of the other Avengers constantly watching her was to be expected - after all, she knew the reputation that preceded her. 

But now, she stood on the balcony of a skyscraper taking in the New York skyline. A different Norse god stood next to her, spinning tales that would sound stranger than fiction if it weren’t for what she’d already seen and what she’d already lived through. 

Loki was harder to read. In the briefing, he seemed amused by Theo. When he was among the group who crashed her show, he regarded her with a certain sharpness that seemed wary, yet intrigued. At her soccer game it seemed like he regarded her with skepticism, not to mention that he looked less than thrilled to be there. 

When Thor barged into the room where Loki was reading on Theo’s tour, she thought Loki was going to stab him until he realized she was present… Perhaps he wasn’t always as charming and witty as she expected. Theo struggled to believe that Loki, the prickly, aloof god, was actually related to Thor, the literal sunshine puppy god, much less that they were brothers. 

Then again, maybe Loki wasn’t so angsty after all. After all, the god of brooding was next to her, a twinkle in his eyes and a grin dangling from his lips as he regaled her with tales of mischief and tomfoolery. Even if some of the tales seemed a bit far-fetched to her, the laughter they coaxed from her was something almost unfamiliar; it had been years since she laughed that hard.

“You know, I have to confess: Thor may be onto something.” Theo had barely gotten her laughter under control before she spoke up.

“Is that so?” Loki’s face sobered as he studied her, waiting for what she would say next.

Theo glanced over at Loki, giving him a nod. “Thor wouldn’t stop extolling your virtues throughout my whole tour. He insisted I get to know you. Any idea why?”

Loki snorted, imagining the thought of Thor harassing their newest team member. “You exaggerate, I’m sure. Still, he can be… overzealous at times.”

“He seemed to think we’d be great friends.” 

Loki’s skepticism was on full display as he studied her, trying to see if she was lying.

“Well, you’re out here with me after rescuing me from small-talk hell, you brought me one of my favorite drinks based on a gut instinct, clearly we have a similar style, and we both wield magic…” Theo pointed out, holding up her drink as if to make a point. “So maybe it’s not as overzealous as you think.” 

“Touché,” Loki agreed, though it was strangely reluctant. “I… used to ruffle people’s feathers.” His voice got quieter and lost some of its bravado. “Thor worried I would never find friends due to past transgressions, or grow accustomed to life on Midgard. While that may no longer be the case, I suspect he still worries; it is likely why he still drags me out with him.” 

Of the answers Theo was expecting, that… wasn’t it. Maybe some clever quip about Thor wanting to set his brother up with someone so he’d stop giving Thor shit about dating a mortal, or something funny. This seemed… almost a little too personal.

Time for a change in subject.

“Tell me another story - What was the best prank you’ve played on Tony Stark?”

That was all it took for Loki to perk up and launch into another elaborate story that led to side-splitting laughter.

Perhaps the golden retriever god was onto something - maybe they would be good friends.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The other night, you wouldn't believe The dream I just had about you and me I'd called you up, but we both agreed It's for the best you didn't listen It's for the best we keep our distance, oh For the best, you didn't listen It's for the best we keep our distance, oh

[blooming-cecilia]

c and s for venti maybe? for the recent x reader prompts. I love the way you characterize him thank you for your works they brighten my day <33

and you, nonnie, brightened up my day with such a sweet message!! i’m really glad you like the way i portray venti, he’s a tricky one to get right but that’s what makes him interesting, yes? hope you enjoy <3

x reader alphabet over here! 

.•° ✿ °•.

c - courtship, what do they do to hint at wanting to get together? is it obvious they’re courting you or subtle?

venti is not one to outright say that he’s taken interest in someone, much less be loud about it that it becomes obnoxious. on the contrary, he’s actually rather quiet about it. he’s elusive and seems to enjoy being a mystery—you’re never even exactly sure if he does see you in a romantic light.

on the surface, he acts very much the same. he’s always been a kind individual with a penchant for mischief, sticking close to anything and anyone that catches his fancy. he’s elusive and mysterious. it’s hard to get a hold of him, much like the winds that blow in mondstadt. unless you’re particularly perceptive or have known him for long enough to tell, you might never find out venti likes you until he decides to tell you himself, or you gather up your own courage to confess.

here’s a little tip: venti hardly ever talks about himself. you’ll notice when he talks, the spotlight is always on someone else, rather than on him. the storyteller but never the hero of the tale. venti sharing more personal stories with you is a sign of trust, a sign that he wants to connect with you on a deeper level than that of simple friends. being so vulnerable is discomforting to him, but because you are now important to him, he’s willing to be in such a position to show you how genuine his intentions are. it’s something he’s done with the traveler too, in his story quest, and we’ve seen time and time again how much he trusts them and values their friendship—what more with someone he’s already begun to think of as his potential lover?

if you take the time to pause and look a bit closer, you’ll know you’ve caught this whimsical bard’s fancy by how often he seems to be around you. mostly just to offer his company and his tunes, but he’s just as eager to lend a hand should you ask for it. in fact, you'll find that he'll appear right next to you just as you need him most, like some sort of sixth sense, manifesting from thin air. you might also find yourself on the receiving end of a fair amount of flowers and various trinkets, but nothing fancy.

venti wants to be someone you can rely on. he enjoys showing you he cares more than saying it, which rings true even after you've become a couple. it’s because he doesn’t say that he likes you, but rather shows it through his actions, proves how genuine and sincere he is about you—in whatever way you’ll have him.

he’s offered you his heart without ever saying it, there for you to take whenever you’re ready.

s - staring, do they stare at you? how often? how do they react when caught? what do they do if they catch you staring?

venti definitely stares at you. or, perhaps, watch is a better word. he’s fond of watching you while you do your thing—you could even say it’s become something of a favorite pastime of his.

he loves being around you while you work, gazing at you fondly as he munches on an apple. you flutter about the area, tending to whatever it is that needs done, scribbling away on papers and mumbling under your breath. he cheers with you when you finish. wiping away the sweat on your face with a quick kiss as a reward, he immediately pushes you out the door to destress at the tavern.

tonight, venti decides to play your favorite tunes, words tumbling from his lips and fingers dancing well-practiced steps. once more, another soft look settles on his face as he peers over at your table, where your laugh resonates even above the boisterous roars of the other regulars.

it doesn’t take long for the crowd to notice his unrelenting gaze. your friends lead in teasing and whistling, causing the rest to follow. a quick glance to his direction and you look away as he winks, his giggles perhaps the sweetest tune he’s sung for you tonight.

venti never tires of it. he enjoys seeing you experience life as it is. his beautiful and charming windblume… the adorable expression on your face whenever he does this tickles his heart every time, so can you really blame him if he wants to see it over and over and over again?

°•. ✿ .•°

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs appreciated ^^

[asimplearchivist]

𝓒𝓗. 𝓥 — [𓂧𓁷𓏏] (‘𝓭𝓗𝓻𝓽’ | 𝓫𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼)

𝐂𝐇. 𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ khonshu knows, logically, that your shared arrangement will not last forever—it cannot. such is the nature of humanity, to change on a whim. he realizes, however, that it is difficult to face.⤏ an unexpected boon granted from the child he’d blessed makes that concept complicated still. pairing ☽ khonshu/singlemom!avatar!reader word count ☾ 11.0k a/n ☽ [header credit] ⤏ this is one of those chapters that I struggled with greatly, if the length of time between updates is any indication. the first scene spilled forth effortlessly. the rest of it? like prying teeth. i am not one to utilize time skips to help with progressing plot because i feel it is over (and so often poorly) done, but due to the nature of this fic and its (admittedly loose) timeline in my mind, i will have to work out of my comfort zone and let it slide more than keep it rigid. hopefully the end result is halfway smooth. my apologies that it took so long—y’all’s comments really kept poking my conscience to get me going again. please enjoy! :) ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER ☽

Human courtship rituals had never made sense in ancient history, and they certainly didn't in the present day—even less so, perhaps.

What one culture might have found offensive, another regarded it as a necessity. Taboos and essentials abounded without any sense of rationality, nor any modicum of moderation. Such social constructs appeared difficult enough to navigate without accounting for the fickle natures of mortals with their own individual preferences. Everyone had a 'type', and everyone expected a certain list of behaviors to be demonstrated by suitors of that type—often without communicating such needs to their partner, expecting them to intrinsically know what to do, and when or how to do it.

The entire ordeal always seemed pointless to Khonshu. At the end of the process, no matter how varied, the result was the same: the humans copulated, and most produced children as a result of the union. Many realized that their partner was not as appealing as once anticipated or chose to deceive them, so splits in family units were common—though so much more in the past couple of centuries than ever before. Children were always torn in the tumult that such division wrought despite its necessity at times.

Khonshu had observed it time and again, this so-called "love" about which humans waxed so wistfully in endless records of poetry and songs and art, frequently the perpetrator of heartache and sorrow and war. It blinded and leached and crumbled anyone and anything it touched. Once he was called upon by new couples for assistance in starting families, to heal their loved ones or children, or to protect a traveling husband and father while journeying back to his home throughout the night. That alone wearied him, dealing with the outer echelons of matrimony and the like—he had never understood how his kin could deal so intimately in the very heart of those matters, as messy and complicated as such feelings grew to be, without feeling exhausted at all times.

Love wasn't simple. Love had layers and contexts and depths that Khonshu didn't care to traverse. It had no concrete definition, no factual basis. It was not his specialty by any means. The judgment and execution of justice had been his closest companion for over a millenia, and it was all he needed.

His proximity to the greatest folly of humanity had narrowed significantly, once he'd reduced his influence. Even still, countless avatars under his auspices had been inflicted by romantic inclination, often resulting in him having to turn them loose to pursue it to its fullest. A mortal with no one for whom to live was a useful implement, lacking attachment—a mortal devoted to another, and to those they may create, was always harder to hone and utilize. Past experience dictated that it was better to cut ties and seek out another mortal more suited to the role he would give them.

He knew it would be better to leave you now, before the turmoil of conflicting interests set in...but he couldn't quite fathom bringing himself to do so.

Khonshu sat wordlessly within a tall windowsill of a bleak, gray brick office building across the street from the multi-level, upper-class restaurant to which your unannounced courter had brought you, arms coiled around his folded knees with his staff gripped tightly in his hands against his shins. The cold winds, acquiescent to his dour mood, whipped through the street below, snarling and biting with frigid teeth at the tails of his tattered cloak. The humans milling about hunkered into their coats and scarves to stave off their shivers, but Khonshu remained deathly still as he peered through the broad glass windows spilling sultry golden light onto the glistening pavement. The gentleman had chosen a small booth flush with the view into the narrow stone garden lining the sidewalk, sitting across from you and leaning attentively forward as you chattered on with a smile. He had driven his vehicle with caution and had opened the doors of both his car and the building for you. You were clearly charmed, fingers coiled around the stem of your glass of wine, eyelashes cast low over your eyes, heart fluttering incessantly against the inside of your ribs—he could feel it as acutely as the odd, foreign tightness within his own chest.

Khonshu had followed from lamppost to banister to rooftop the entire drive into uptown London, withholding himself from your field of vision—you'd grown attuned to his presence while he remained in the astral realm (much to his chagrin), looking over your shoulder like a tense prey animal every time you sensed him near, but if he maintained a certain distance from you he seemed to be able to avoid your detection. He kept his magic as close as possible, folded carefully around himself in a shroud that would (hopefully) conceal him from your view. 

Your "date" was a good-looking man, obviously wealthy, with a sincere interest in you—Khonshu could discern no evident wrongdoing in him, no lingering malice. You found him attractive, too, if your subconscious behaviors were any indication. Your clear apprehension had evaporated almost instantly with his disarming, genteel mannerisms. He would likely care for you, with ample room to spare for your child, given his experience with his own—he would unquestionably be able to see to your needs. After that man had ruined your marriage, you'd remained mostly independent, other than your reliance on Elizabeth—but Khonshu hadn't considered that you would potentially, eventually seek out another partner with whom to share your burdens.

Khonshu had no say in the matter. He knew, logically, that he should start seeking out another candidate to be his avatar. It was difficult enough for you to care for your son, maintain your occupation, and serve himself well into the wee hours of morning, all while maintaining your secret from your closest friend—entering a new relationship would be next to impossible to manage. He had favored you for far longer and had devoted more time and power to you than he had to any of his avatars in decades—the reason he'd chosen you to begin with was an unusual one, unconventional by the Ennead's standards. It was bound to unravel at some point. The sands of time would shift, and he would yet again be moving on to another human destined to dwindle away.

And yet...

Khonshu watched you head tilt with laughter, your hand rising to cover your mouth to stifle the noise. The gentleman's eyes shone as he watched, grinning from ear to ear. His fingertips brushed yours to the side of the small appetizer plate, ginger and shy. The boiling inferno brewing within the lunar god caused the ancient wood of his staff to creak dangerously under his unforgiving grip.

Khonshu hated getting involved in humans' personal affairs. He had given too much of himself away in the days of old attempting to garner dedication from his followers—oftentimes his efforts had been shortly forgotten, their faith and worship lost once their needs had been met. He owed them nothing, even if he relied upon them for what scant sustenance he gleaned from day to day—there was a reason that his kindred had all but abandoned humanity thousands of years ago. He ultimately owed you nothing, despite the unusual circumstances of him becoming intertwined into your life.

...And yet.

Khonshu continued to observe (to make sure you were truly safe, of course—it still was his job to protect you for the time being, after all, even if that time may have been unexpectedly cut shorter due to newly developing events). He watched the waitress bring out your entrees and refills for your drinks, watched you eat far more primly than you ever did in the comfort of your own home. The gentleman continued to prove himself responsible, at least—he opted for water after his first alcoholic beverage, since he was your chauffeur for the night. You did the same, for the sake of exercising caution.

Khonshu studied (not for the first time, though he wouldn't dare admit it to himself nor another soul) your features in the borderline otherworldly lighting: the glossy sheen of your hair framing your face, the curve of your cheek, the confident jut of your chin, the feathered, gossamer shadows cast by your lashes—all accented with a brazen splash from the interior of the restaurant against the heathery gloom seeping in through the window. Khonshu hadn't seen you dress in raiment any finer than your work uniforms or your loungewear, much less the soft pigments applied to your face, but you appeared rather fetching to the eye. The gentleman had definitely taken notice, if the frequent tugging at his buttoned collar was any indication.

Food consumed and water downed, the pair of you settled in over a dessert—two separate spoons delved into the same dish. Khonshu turned his attention to the man with a far more critical gaze, noting the tension in his shoulders paired with the tightness in the corner of his mouth. Where minutes before he'd been entirely invested in your company, now he tapped his foot incessantly against the tile beneath the table. Anxiety? Or anticipation?

Mid-bite, the gentleman stopped. He dropped his eyes to the tablecloth, set his spoon to the side, and murmured something that caused your expression to morph faintly into concern. You responded, offering him a small smile, and watched him as he folded the cloth napkin laid over his lap, set it to the side, and stood to make a bee-line deeper into the establishment and out of Khonshus' sight.

Ideas raced through Khonshu's mind. He'd seen such behavior numerous times: of predators growing excited to latch onto their prey. The mere thought that the man could have the audacity to bring you any harm nearly blinded him with boiling rage.

Before he could even form another comprehensible thought, Khonshu had already dropped into the booth across from you in the gentleman's place, throwing down his invisibility with a snap that made you jump and curse out loud. Several other patrons near your table cast sidelong glances of incredulity, murmuring amongst themselves.

You stared at him for a beat, eyes rounded and lips parted, before snatching your phone out of your purse and pressing it to your ear—though your heated gaze never faltered from his.

"You could've given me a little warning," you hissed, and the lingering scrutiny from the other humans was dismissed for the acceptance of your simply taking an unexpected call. "What are you doing?"

He is acting suspiciously, Khonshu growled, leaning over the table. He was comically large compared to it; the tops of his thighs would be pressing into its underside if he were corporeal. I suggest that you leave while he's distracted.

"What do you mean?" you questioned, frowning.

He has grown nervous. He may be preparing to act upon his deceit. I have seen such behavior before in individuals new to malfeasance or working as a front for others.

Your brows wrinkled in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Khonshu squeezed the grip of his staff, propped to the side of the plush leather seat. Despite the lack of moonlight, I can take you back—

"Have you been spying on me?" you interrupted sharply.

Khonshu stopped, taken aback by your anger. I—

"Oh my god, you were," you continued, voice pitching. You pressed your face into your free hand, propping an elbow on the edge of the table. "You were actually—" You let out a harsh sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. "I cannot believe you."

I am trying to keep you out of danger, Khonshu began, voice hardening, and that man—

"Is as harmless as a dove." You lifted your gaze back to him, blazing like wildfire. "I've never tried prying into your personal matters when you're not hanging around me. This is the one night a month I don't have to run around the city for you, and you still can't let me have any damned privacy."

Rarity of rarities, Khonshu was rendered speechless by your audacity. He let out a low rumble, his free fist curling atop the tablecloth. The glasses shivered where they stood, their melting ice cubes rattling. You forget exactly to whom you speak.

"My damned chaperone, apparently," you growled right back. "I am a grown-ass adult and I can handle myself—"

Sodjem eni, Sri mewt—Ianuk mktyek*! the god of the moon boomed from the depths of his chest, rattling the cutlery and porcelain. A couple having exited the restaurant inadvertently let in a violent gust of frigid wind through the door that nearly blew the host at the front off his feet. The other patrons shivered and eyed their table settings warily. You would do well to heed my warning—

"You've taught me how to defend myself, and I'd be able to get away if I had to," you retorted. "But for god's sake, Khonshu, it's just a date—"

A soft, uncertain clearing of one's throat caused you to jump again, turning and placing your phone face-down on the tabletop. The gentleman was back, face wan and eyes reddened, looking rather downtrodden compared to his earlier assured demeanor.

"Gideon, what's wrong?" you asked immediately, concern flooding over you in place of your ire. Khonshu leaned back, eyeing him skeptically. "Are you okay?"

"I am all right, choupinette." He offered you a small, thin smile. "I have already taken care of the bill." You opened your mouth to protest, but he waved you off gently. "Please, it is the least I could do for troubling you." He picked up his coat from the back of the seat, shrugging it on and extended an open hand to help you stand. "I need to discuss something personal with you, however."

You frowned, glancing towards Khonshu, but accepted the man's assistance—he held your coat for you as you threaded your arms through, cradled your purse as you buttoned up and readjusted your scarf, and offered you his elbow as he walked you back out into the cold night air. Khonshu followed closely behind, looming just within arm's reach of you.

"I have thoroughly enjoyed your company tonight," Gideon told you quietly, tucking you into his side to block off the wind blustering by and tugging at the ends of your hair. "You are a delightfully intellectual woman, and I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"I did," you confessed. You were watching his face, gauging—and you'd occasionally peek over your shoulder at your brooding shadow. "Thank you for taking me out, it was really nice. I appreciate your time—and you didn't have to foot the ticket."

"You are welcome." Gideon's gaze was fixated upon the street. "But please do not rob me of my courtesy—I was raised to have chivalry." He lightly squeezed your gloved hand with his own, taking a steadying breath. "...I was not entirely forthcoming with you, I am afraid."

You tensed slightly. Khonshu observed the flash of several emotions over your face—surprise, suspicion, distrust, namely—in time with your racing thoughts. Is he secretly remarried? Was he just after sex? Did he chicken out because you had repulsed him somehow? "I'd really rather you be transparent with me," you finally said, low and tight.

"It is what you are owed for your earnesty and patience with me." He finally met your beseeching stare, gray eyes glimmering. A fine, misty drizzle began to descend from the mantle of clouds hanging low overhead, catching on your eyelashes. "I...please, do not take this as any lack of interest on my part. You are truly a fine woman whom any man of sense and repute should pursue. Neither did I mean to deceive you in any way."

Your brow rose, just so, and you became a little more guarded. "Alright...?"

"...It's...difficult to express in a manner that wouldn't cause you any offense nor hurt." His expression wrinkled with a mixture of embarrassment and shame. "But I suppose I should just be plain, instead. I...truthfully, I thought that I might be ready to seek out another relationship, after…one that is long-term, preferably, as I would like to have stability for Abielle's sake. You have always been kind to me, and I have long admired you for your talents and capabilities since you were hired. You are dependable and steadfast, and you are not frivolous nor capricious as many other women are. You are one of the sincerest people that I have met here in England, and I..." He sighed and shook his head, voice thickening with every word. He attempted to clear his throat. "I apologize if it seems that I have led you on, but I suspect I will be unable to continue any future dates for...a while yet."

"Oh," you murmured, expression softening instantly. "No, Gideon, that's—entirely understandable. Did you think I'd be angry with you?"

He opened his mouth, debated on a response, then finally nodded remorsefully.

You stopped walking, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and placed your hands on his arms. He could scarcely meet your eyes. "It's entirely normal to grieve a loved one for a long time," you told him patiently. "If you've had anybody telling you that you should be over it by now, they are entirely in the wrong. Everyone processes things a little differently. You'll know when you're ready to take on any changes in your life before anyone else does, so don't feel pressured to do anything that makes you uncomfortable because it's 'normal' or whatever."

He bit his lip, gratitude bleeding from him in waves. "I...thank you."

You offered him a small, wry grin. "Want to hug it out, Doc?"

Your attempt to lighten the mood worked like magic. Gideon laughed softly, wetly, and pulled you in close for a long moment. You did not release him until he drew back, patting his arm again. He dipped his head, cheeks darkening. "I...suppose I got overwhelmed. I did not know how you would react."

"Believe me, I understand more than you might think." You offered him your elbow this time, instead, and the pair of you continued to walk towards the parking garage on the other side of the block. Khonshu allowed a bit more distance between himself and you, continuing to observe. "I don't think I'm over my ex quite yet, either."

To his credit, Gideon's expression darkened for the first time that evening at the mere mention of that man. "I am sorry for what he did to you, choupinette. No one deserves that, and you least of all."

You shrugged a shoulder, dismissing it before you could dwell on it for too long. "I'm fine with just having Ru for right now. I think I've realized that I don't want to have to worry about a relationship for a long time." You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "Maybe tonight was good for the both of us."

"Perhaps," Gideon agreed. "...No hard feelings?"

"None," you chirped. You winked at him. "Now I just get bragging rights in the ward."

His low laughter tapered as you both rounded the corner. "You know it will infuriate the lot of them..."

Khonshu's stride slowed to a stop, the winds all but gone as the drizzle grew into a right and proper rain. The rigidity of his shoulders had fallen, and where once his fury had seethed in the pit of his belly, an unyielding lump remained lodged deep within his chest instead. He heard your laughter over the slosh of tires cutting through the water running into the gutters, almost out of earshot.

Khonshu's fingers tightened, and he slammed the end of his staff into the wet pavement as he punched himself back through the veil into the astral realm.

“Are you going to admit that you were wrong and threw a tantrum, or are we going to keep agreeing to disagree?”

Khonshu didn’t dignify you with a response, hunching forward and glaring down into the street brimming with civilians below the building upon the edge of which the pair of you perched. You sat on the crumbling brickwork, kicking your legs idly as you watched the goings-on—the vendors had thrown open the doors of their establishments, spilling shafts of warm golden light upon the damp pavement that glittered like spilled, shattered glass. Children ran to and fro, laughing and shrieking and chattering as they migrated from door to door in myriad costumes. It being a secluded part of the city at so late an hour, most people were walking on foot rather than in vehicles. Parents walked idly behind their darting progeny, conversing between themselves as they kept watchful eyes upon the overdressed terrors.

A month had slid by in one-sided conversations and, eventually, discomfit silences. Khonshu rarely spent much more time in your presence than what was strictly necessary for instruction and further training. You had become rather adept at sparring with him, though the unpredictability of strangers still caught you unawares at times—even still, you rarely incurred many injuries these days, and only the previous night you’d stopped a bank from being robbed at gunpoint without incurring a scratch. You had grown accustomed to the route that Khonshu directed you every night, so more often than not he merely had to point out a particular situation or redirect you for dire occasions, watching you act and react mostly from afar.

Khonshu hadn’t spoken a single word out of turn regarding your tasks in more than a week, yet you still addressed him the same as you always had—infuriatingly irreverent and incessantly curious.

You turned your head to peer up at him, mercurial eyes narrowed slightly. “If you don’t say anything, I’ll be taking that as a yes, Big Bird. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Khonshu’s knuckles creaked as he stood up and straightened. We should move on.

“Oh, you’re still ignoring me. Cool.” You bobbed your head briefly, letting out a sigh. “Because you’re actually five years old rather than several millennia.”

There is nothing to be found here. Khonshu stepped up onto the lip of the building, preparing to leap off and slip into the astral realm. There are skirmishes further into the city that need attending to.

“Are they urgent?”

He turned his skull to peer critically at you.

You had stood, likewise, and had your hands placed firmly on your hips. He had the distinct impression that you raised a brow at him.

Minor squabbles, he shared reluctantly.

“Okay.” You pointed at him. “I’ve gathered that I upset you, but nothing came of it. What can I do to fix this?”

Fix what? he grumbled, half-turning, half tempted to disappear to avoid the conversation altogether.

You gestured agitatedly between yourself and him. “This—whatever weird tension this is. You’re pissed off at me but I can’t seem to get you to calm down no matter what I do. You’re even more constipated than usual.”

I know not of what you speak, he responded.

“The hell you don’t,” you retorted. You squared your frame, comically small, still, to his height—posturing like a lap dog. “This is the first semi-constructive conversation we’ve had in weeks. You’re not even visiting Ru like you had been!” At his stiffening shoulders, you squinted at him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that. You’re not as subtle as you think.”

Khonshu raised a hand to point at you in response, but you cut him off.

“I don’t know what you want from me to get you to pull your beak out of your ass, but you’re not getting an apology. What I do on my one night off and during my free time is my business. I wasn’t in any danger, and even if I was you don’t have to hover over me like I’m about to run off the first chance I get—”

Khonshu slumped in spite of himself, bracing his weight into his staff. Even if the shift was minute, even to his own perception, you caught the movement effortlessly—you saw right through him at times, and, truly, it frightened surprised him.

Your eyes widened slightly to take him in, and he watched the bandages retreat from your face beneath the hood to reveal your softened expression. He went rigid once more at your scrutiny, twisting his forearm to curl around the staff’s hilt, and resisted the urge to back down. You would not intimidate him—he was the god of the night sky, older than time itself, and you were a mere mortal, an inconsequential speck of stardust in the grand scheme of the universe’s endless cycle. What was a human to a god?

“Khonshu,” you said softly. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere.”

That was not what he had expected nor what he wanted you to say.

I misread the situation, he acquiesced, if all but to avoid the dangerous edge of borderline sympathy creeping into your tone.

“And overreacted.” Your gaze narrowed, just so. “You were worried about me.”

Your conviction, the lack of uncertainty, caused his wrappings to itch. He turned to face the street once more. Some of the people had moved on, so it wasn’t nearly as crowded. If you dally any longer, the travelers—

“Khonshu.”

Despite every iota of iron-wrought willpower he possessed, he stopped. He didn’t even understand why.

“We made a deal. I don’t go back on my word.” You stepped closer—the scuff of your soles and the shift of linen gave it away. “Until you decide you don’t want me as your avatar anymore, I’ll try my best to work with you. I just need some space every now and then—that’s a normal thing for humans, to need some times to themselves. It’s good for our mental health so we don’t get burnt out.”

Khonshu was filled with immediate revulsion when your hand rested lightly on the crook of his elbow—not with you, your warmth beneath the gauze of his armor, nor your gentleness as though you were approaching a wild, cornered animal—but for the way he flinched at the not-so-unexpected touch, and for the way that you pulled away instantly, as though concerned for his well-being rather than your own fear of getting snapped at, which normally drove you.

It does not matter to me what you do, he rumbled. Your life is your own, no matter what portion of it I dictate. He did not want to have this conversation—everything within him was coiled up in protest, every instinct screaming at him to get away and ignore it and flee from you and your infuriatingly perspicacious gaze alike. (He should release you now. You knew too much, and if you learned more he was certainly doomed. He couldn’t afford that—couldn’t afford the devastation it would cause. He should, but he couldn’t. What did he want, truly?) But…you deserved better. You’d been through enough, and you valued trust above all else. He knew you, he knew why. It was the least he could do to repay you, for everything that you had done for him—you and your son. (...What had you done for him, exactly?) I…will release you, if that is what you wish.

“Is that what you want?”

Were Khonshu capable of it in his present state, he would have scowled. How was it that you were always able to catch him so unawares with your responses? You were so very vexing. It does not matter what I want. You are my ward, and it is my duty to—

“I’m not asking you about duty. I’m asking you about your desire. You can’t seem to stand being around me, yet I can’t hardly get rid of you. You ignore me, but no matter what I do you stick around. If I’m that much of a bother to you, then you need to tell me if you want me gone. I don’t much appreciate it when people drag me along without telling me what they really think and feel—I’ve had enough people lie to me in the last couple of years, and frankly I’ve had my fill. So I need you to be honest with me. You promised me that you’d be honest with me.”

Khonshu’s hands ached from the strength with which he ground his joints together clutching his staff. Truly a miracle it was that the enchanted cedar had yet to snap as often as he stressed its groaning grain. I never said that, he responded automatically. He barely gave his word on anything in which he wasn’t entirely confident—and his incomplete disclosure with you was the very source of his internal turmoil, to begin with. He had implied his compliance with your desire for honest communication above all else, but had never sworn to it for this very reason. He simply could not afford to tell you everything—for then you would know far too much, and it would inadvertently place you on the path to inevitable and far more incredible danger as a result. I promised—’pinky promised’—that I would catch you should you ever fall.

You fell silent for a long moment, considering—he felt your gaze heavy and heated upon his profile, as well as the brumous ambiance of your thoughts threatening to overcome your restraint. He, too, resisted the urge to look at you, because it would unmake him and every wall he had ever painstakingly built with bloody fingers and trembling hands.

That was why he should let you go. You held too much power over him to handle.

“Then catch me,” you finally said.

Capricious neket-iadet**, he inwardly growled—outwardly, he questioned, What?

“Keep your word,” you told him plainly, and just as he broke his resolve and turned his skull to glare at you for your incomprehension, he watched you decisively take a step backwards off the edge of the building and allow your body to tumble after it.

For a briefest moment of time—slowed and agonizing, as was his gut instinct to cast as everything within him dropped in shock—he watched you descend into open air. The impact with the concrete below would maim you, if not kill you instantly based on the trajectory. You were always wary of making any jumps, regardless of the height and of his assurances that the breezes would carry you, and yet instead of screaming you merely gazed at him with placid confidence. You didn’t look down, fully focused on him as you were, and didn’t even flinch.

In a blink, Khonshu rushed after you. The resulting gale of wind in his wake blasted anything unattached in the street below—paper and confetti and banners snapped in protest. Within the span of time it took for you to suck in a breath, he had snatched you up and pinned you firmly upon the opposite rooftop, caged in by his arms as his entire body shook mightily.

What the hell were you thinking? he snarled. Are you trying to bring yourself to harm?!

You merely stared up at him, only mildly dazed, nonplussed by his fingertips digging so deeply into the brickwork directly next to your head that it crumbled into dust. You reached up slowly, but despite expecting it and doing nothing to avoid it, his body still went rigid as your fingers—unbound, soft and smooth and so very warm—traced the jagged, uneven edge of his mandible with the most delicate of touches. You didn’t pull away that time, only gauged his reactions like one would a child: with a low, steady tone and a gentle, unflinching gaze.

Just like you did with Ru upon the rare occasion of being inconsolably upset.

“Now I’ve got your full attention,” you murmured, “and it only took me putting myself in harm’s way. Who would’ve thought?”

Khonshu stiffened further, feeling each individual ridge and arch and whorl of your fingerprint as the sensation seared itself into his very marrow. Every ounce of willpower he possessed was focused upon remaining unyielding, for if he faltered now, he would melt beyond repair. When was the last time he had been touched with reverence rather than wroth?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you told him. “Not intentionally. Just like I know you’d never hurt me.” Your exploratory trail curled directly under the arch of his ocular cavity and followed the curve of his beak downward. “You asked me to trust you, Khonshu, and I’ve been doing my best to do just that. But I need you to trust me, too, if this is going to work.”

His resolution cracked, and his quaking resumed with greater force than before—if you noticed it, however, you gave no indication.

“And I will stay as long as you’ll have need of me, and not a second more,” you continued quietly. Your fingertips stopped at the taper at the end of his beak, unheeding of the sharpness as you hooked them underneath to anchor him in—as though he weren’t already fixated to your touch. “So don’t shut me out. We’re a team, remember? Even if you call the shots. I can’t help you if you withdraw like this. I can’t exactly read minds.”

You couldn’t, but he could. And, oh, how calm yours was, blissfully unaware of the tempest brewing within his own—as serene as an oasis drenched in the receding light of a blazing sunset, uncaring that his comparatively massive frame trapped you in full range of his physical and magical might with nowhere to run. He could bask in that security if he allowed himself the indulgence, bathe in the unadulterated safety you felt in his presence. You did trust him. You were not afraid of him—you never had been. You saw him, through him, despite everything that he had done for thousands of years to remain indistinguishable to most, including his kin. He couldn’t risk you worming your way in past his shell, couldn’t fathom the thought of you seeing more and discovering more and knowing more—he wouldn’t survive it.

He didn’t call the shots, not really.

You were in danger, but you were dangerous.

He could scarcely take it.

You know nothing, he croaked; a weak incantation, one he knew he couldn’t validate.

You blinked once, but didn’t immediately respond. He couldn’t withstand the burden of your gaze, yet never wanted to be parted from it.

“About what?” you pressed softly.

About my desire, lay on the very tip of his incorporeal tongue, but he retained enough self-control instead to growl, About what it means to trust a god.

“But I’m trying to,” you told him. “I want to.”

You shouldn’t. It slipped, this time. He was helpless to resist it—to resist you.

“So sue me.” Your brows furrowed. “You’re stuck with me until you decide to get rid of me, Big Bird, so you better get used to it. I’ll stand at your side, but not behind you. If you have a problem with that, you need to speak now or forever hold your peace.”

He had nothing to say, except, …Very well. But you bring this upon yourself, Sri mewt.

You quirked a brow at him. “I didn’t accept the offer to be your avatar without expecting some degree of hardship. But consider that I might need this as much as you do, Khonshu.”

Khonshu hesitated, your thoughts inextricably brushing along the edge of his own: I need you. You’re too important to me now to lose.

He retreated, then, abruptly—physically and mentally. Your lips parted as he shifted and straightened, upright a good three paces away from your prostrate form before you could blink.

Forgive me, he muttered, leaning into his staff wearily.

“It’s all right,” you responded carefully, sitting up and climbing to your feet. Your eyes were brimming with questions and curiosity, but to his relief you settled on, “Did I hurt you?”

No, he said. Despite himself, he added quietly, I am simply unused to it.

“Okay. Just tell me if you ever want me to stop,” you reply, and you don’t know how badly he wanted to take you up on your offer—to demand that you stop everything, like constantly chipping away at his barriers, or looking at him like he’s something to be understood with care rather than downtrodden, or making him question everything he’d ever thought he’d known about himself so fervently that he was no longer certain of anything anymore.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He was in too deep, past the point of no return, and he knew it—he knew it as intimately as he knew the contours of your body just underneath his armor, the frequency of your voice vibrating within his skull, and the exact number of crinkles in the corners of your eyes whenever you smiled as brilliantly as the moon at your son—yet he could summon no strength to pull himself back from the very brink of the sheer insanity he was willing to and already enduring for the sake of continuing to have you so close. It would arguably hurt him worse to part himself from you, now, than to push you away.

He would be made the continued mockery of the gods if they knew how desperately he craved to be subservient to you rather than the other way around.

“Hey.”

He refocused on you, realizing that he had totally missed you stepping directly in front of him. You could put your forehead on his torso if you just leaned forward a bit.

“I’m always here to listen if you want or need to talk,” you told him. “You’ve listened to me rant plenty of times. It’s only fair of me to offer the same favor.” The faintest wry quirk of your mouth twisted every metaphorical organ in his chest cavity, and he couldn’t breathe even if he had to. “I can’t even imagine what goes on in that empty skull of yours, and I’d rather avoid any squabbles that would make you give me the cold shoulder for so long again, if possible.”

I will…endeavor to remember that. He turned and faced the cityscape once more, bandages crawling with discomfort after the weight of the entire conversation finally struck him. Let us move on. There is work to be done.

“Lead on,” you told him, drawing the gauze back over your face and hands.

Khonshu wordlessly summoned a fierce gust to carry you halfway across London as he slipped back into the invisible safety of the astral realm to observe like the coward he truly was.

Khonshu, as always, was able to suppress the majority of his internal conflict enough for your shared routine to return to relative normalcy over the course of the next couple of weeks. You were comfortable enough to resume your oft one-sided conversations with him while he lingered in your home during the day just as he finally allowed himself to return to that habit, though his extended silences were due mainly to contemplation rather than avoidance (since you still saw it fit to ask him every question man could seem to conjure under the sun), and you seemed to be satisfied by the familiarity of it. 

Your skills only continued to improve, and oftentimes he no longer felt the need to intervene in your skirmishes, even when you faced a disadvantage. You were clever—definitely too cunning for your own good—and now that he had successfully equipped you with the knowledge and muscle memory to deal effectively with your adversaries, you outsmarted them more often than not strictly on account of being faster and unpredictable.

Ironic, certainly, that the bane of his existence was your sharp, analytical mind, and yet he valued it so greatly in the field to execute his vengeance.

Although he didn’t find himself particularly inclined to tell you so, for it would surely go to your head and render you even more insufferable than your smuggest of days discovering such great delight in incessantly needling his ever-waning patience, he was extremely pleased with your progress. You were eager to learn whenever he would introduce a new technique or ability to you, and usually you had mastered it within a week in execution. He hadn’t had so skilled and studious an avatar in decades, as sufficient as the last several had proven, and despite the inward dread he felt at your personal life intermingling so unabashedly into his, he was increasingly grateful as every night passed that he had decided to go out on a limb for you.

Even if the long-term benefits arguably outweighed the present ones.

Ru was growing stronger and developing his mother’s wits at what normally would have been an alarming rate in a normal child. Being so consistently exposed to Khonshu and his power was feeding the blessing in that child and causing it to manifest in his strapping health and burgeoning development. His physician had told you, surprise plain in his features, that he was farther along than he should be—not a bad sign, surely, just unexpected and, to uneducated human minds, inexplicable.

You didn’t seem to bat an eye at the concept, really. You truly only cared for him to be healthy and happy over the odd, if not beneficial, traits he demonstrated.

Khonshu himself was thankful that you chose not to question any of that, at least. And he was relieved to be able to observe the child unscrutinized once more.

The boy was growing faster than Khonshu could reasonably fathom. The god of the moon remembered what it was like to be young—cradled in his mother’s arms, perched on her lap, and guided by her hand clasping his. A Heliopolitan’s lifespan could not be truly compared to a human’s, as he had mentioned to you before, on account of the differing biologies. But he had been a child once, though he’d grown far more rapidly into adulthood than mortals could imagine. The Egyptians had struggled to comprehend his vastly differing appearances throughout time, leading to his myriad depictions varying so widely in reliefs, statues, and literature.

Even still, Khonshu had never remained in such close proximity to a human child—nevermind one that he had blessed (though he had monitored those in the past, he had mostly disregarded their existence until they were old enough to prove themselves useful for servitude). Possessing no offspring of his own, he ought not to have any practical experience or knowledge beyond what he’d learned by exposure over time, but it was startlingly easy, instinctual even, to interact with the boy. He was mild-mannered, rarely fussed without good reason, and observed with far more intelligence than Khonshu could ever have anticipated.

His incessant inquisitiveness, it seemed, was a hereditary trait passed directly on from his mother.

Badru was now five months old, and Khonshu scarcely recognized the swaddled bundle of ruddy, rounded flesh you had brought into the world. His eyes were bright and attentive, constantly tracking your movements as long as you were within viewing range—but they always seemed to find Khonshu even before he’d manifest into the physical plain. He still struggled with mobility, but he touched everything within his reach to study its texture and color with as rapt a fixation as you did your paperwork. He was particularly adept at finding the most tender places to tug Khonshu’s wrappings, the deity had come to learn—despite his stern, if long-suffering, scoldings not to grab his beak, the boy would only giggle in rebellious mockery and continue with his mischief.

Khonshu tried not to connect with him too much, he really did—it would only lead to disaster in the future. But everything the child did, everything he thought (although his thoughts were still rudimentarily instinctual), drew Khonshu’s own dormant curiosity. Khonshu knew the effects that a child conceived under a crescent moon combined with his blessings experienced based on the differences the adults displayed in the past: improved senses, memory, intelligence, strength, reflexes, agility, among other comparatively minor enhancements upon humanity’s inherently flawed physiology—but he had failed to realize how early that these traits would impact an infant’s early growth.

You were certainly proud of your son’s development, even if you didn’t question its rapid rate. You spent as much time as physically possible with the boy, stimulating him with toys, stories, and teaching that Khonshu found painfully rudimentary but, ultimately, necessary. You were flourishing as a mother, truly, and nothing quite matched the sight of your blinding smiles when you did interact with him.

The joy that the babe undeniably brought you mitigated Khonshu’s underlying guilt for the most part—but the moments where you trudged with weariness, pushed your limits beyond reason, and tried to hide your lows only reminded him exactly whose fault it was that you struggled.

Khonshu, despite his reluctance to nurture the child’s dependence upon him, wanted to help you wherever he could, though he was limited to what he could offer besides healing the boy and holding him when you were busy with chores. The child seemed magnetized to his presence, did everything he could to get to him and gets his grubby little fingers on him, and Khonshu was uncertain whether it was caused by his blessing or by some innate fascination with the familiarity of the hulking eldritch deity making himself comfortable in their home. And, over time, Khonshu came to the realization that there was an unexpected side benefit to directly interacting with the boy.

Khonshu was unsuited to understand the exact nature of his powers and abilities, much less how they worked (such comprehension was better explained by the likes of Heka)—so to anticipate that such a connection would form some sort of feedback loop with Khonshu’s wellspring would have been impossible. Even simply touching the child resulted in a shocking amount of power directed back into the deity. It only amplified the more that Khonshu spent time around him, particularly when he spoke, even if was derogatory or chastisement.

Even though the replenishment was relatively small compared to what Khonshu used to receive in praise, prayers, and offerings (something he lamented often, especially on nights of the new moon), it was far more than he’d gleaned in decades. The nourishment was invaluable, and Khonshu had begun to notice the slight changes it made in his current manifestation—his wrappings had stopped their gradual decay, perhaps even had reverted, he felt stronger, and his magic had improved in efficacy and speed. It only assisted your endeavors, as the armor became more resilient, improved your superhuman abilities, and healed you faster when you incurred injuries.

Further experimentation would be required to determine the quantitative supply of what the boy was capable of returning to his patron, but for the time being Khonshu found that he could not fault you for the amount of happiness Badru brought you. His laughter was easily provoked, whether it was through physical prods to his midsection and underarms or Khonshu’s grave, booming tone. What prompted the reaction the most, however, was an odd game Khonshu observed you play with the infant on numerous occasions. You would conceal your face behind your hands, wait until the babe would utter a noise of confusion, and then reveal yourself with a soft exclamation. Despite the fact that you may have repeated the action numerous times prior to the current occasion, Badru would react the exact same—with equal parts surprise and mirth.

It puzzled Khonshu, truly. You had explained the concept of object permanence to him when he’d inquired about the boy’s worryingly consistent forgetful behavior (as well as the lack thereof that Badru would not develop for some time), but he still had trouble wrapping his mind around it. You sat with the boy on your lap, yet the child acted as though you had disappeared from the face of the earth simply because he could not see your face. Asinine, perhaps, but…Khonshu’s judgement was belayed by a certain (if limited) amount of endearment.

It would benefit Khonshu in the long run to conduct the aforementioned experiments while he remained in your good graces (at least for the time being), and if he could do so while entertaining the child when you were busy…well, what did humans say about two birds and one stone?

He decided to try it one late evening when Elizabeth was out on a date. The pair of you had joked about the bad luck she’d had the last time since you had (not so) unexpectedly gone into labor in the middle of her dinner, but since you possessed no more tricks up your sleeve to interfere you encouraged the ginger to go out and have a good time—and, like Khonshu had observed you two do when you went on your ‘date’ with the gentleman, Elizabeth told you her expected destinations, estimated durations, and potential secondary locations while updating her tracking on her cellular device. You had promised her with only some mirth that if anything malicious happened to her, you’d descend like the fury of hell upon her paramour—Khonshu had been forced to stifle a chuckle at the oblivious eye-roll your friend with which your friend had responded to your only half-hearted threat.

You were left to your own devices, then, being off that night. You went about the motions of cooking supper, and Khonshu bided his time looming in the living room until Badru began to get bored with the blunted wooden blocks you’d laid out for him to play with and notify you of his malcontent with soft, displeased grunts.

“I know, baby,” you called over your shoulder, stirring the creamy sauce in the simmering pan to prevent it from scorching on the bottom. “I’ll be there in a moment, just let me—”

I’ll get him, Khonshu told you, materializing into your plain and bending down to scoop the child up from the plush rug. Prepare your meal.

“I—oh. Thank you.” You blinked at him, brows arching slightly, but didn’t protest as Khonshu wandered down the hallway towards the child’s room. “Let me know if he gives you any trouble!”

He will not, he returned dryly, turning into the darkness and snapping his fingers to activate the bedside lamp next to your rocking chair. He extended his arms to eye the child in his entirety, watching him with rounded eyes and an open mouth. Khonshu scrutinized the hair growing in full force upon the boy’s head, identical to yours in color and texture, as well as the subtle definition of features he recognized from looking at your face—the shapes of his eyes, mouth, and nose, although his ears must have been inherited from his father.

The thought sent a wave of revulsion through Khonshu, but even he couldn’t manipulate genetics.

Khonshu descended to the floor, crossing his legs the same way you did. He settled Badru into the cradle his interlocking calves formed, though the size difference was far more pronounced. The boy was perplexed, evidenced by the strong feeling of newness resounding from his otherwise empty mind. Khonshu tilted his skull to eye the wrinkles of his expression, then experimentally covered his eye sockets with his hand before lifting it a few seconds later.

Nothing. Badru looked even more skeptical than before.

Difficult to please, aren’t you? Khonshu grumbled. Or is it favoritism at play?

The babe reached out with flexing hands towards his torso in response.

Does the practice require two hands? Khonshu continued dryly, pressing the babe back to his original position before attempting just that.

Still nothing.

You made it look remarkably easy. What was it that had anchored the child’s attention so raptly? Did he have to utter that specific incantation to evoke the boy’s startlement? Did you actually possess a sensitivity to heka*** that Khonshu had previously failed to perceive?

Khonshu concealed his skull, then parted his hands, thankful, for once, for his isolation—he’d prefer to never have an audience be aware of this situation as long as he lived. …Boo…?

Badru blinked slowly, as though questioning his hesitance.

Khonshu tried again. Boo.

His mouth twitched.

Boo.

The boy smiled, at least, but still offered no laughter.

Khonshu let out an agitated huff. Puzzling child. You seek only to spite me, don’t you? Defiant like your mother.

Badru gurgled and smiled around the fist he attempted to shove past his lips. Khonshu hooked his wrist with one solitary, spindly finger, tugging it away from the oozing maw. The babe let out a  grunt, his flat brow wrinkling in displeasure, but Khonshu hushed him with a low tone.

And despite having not accomplished any significant task, Khonshu could feel the steady, if narrow, trickle of power through the link he shared with the child in his lap. In the peak of his influence, he never would have noticed such a comparatively insignificant supply at the time—now he was ravenous for it. The tension in his shoulders eased the longer that he studied Badru’s sparkling eyes, tracking over the sharp edges and contours of the old god’s skull. Such wonder, in those eyes, just like yours; such innocence.

Khonshu, chest tight, released the wrappings from his free hand and slowly, hesitantly, brushed his fingertips across the babe’s forehead to cradle the crown of his head. Impossibly smooth, unblemished, and warmer than he had expected—the downy strands felt like the finest of silk, enhanced by the soaps with which you used to bathe him. And in spite of the certain discomfort that the scars mottling Khonshu’s tarnished, otherworldly hand brought, Badru only cooed at his whisper-soft touch. The boy reached up with his own free hand, unanchored by Khonshu’s other loose forefinger and thumb, and grabbed blindly at the coarse gauze—as pristine a white as it had looked in months (years, even)—to investigate the texture with rapt, unwavering attention.

Khonshu tilted his skull to the other side, and the sudden movement after the period of stillness caused the child to jump slightly—then giggle quietly.

Khonshu hummed in thought. He glanced over his shoulder, finding the hallway still dark and unoccupied. He could hear you humming in the kitchen along to the music playing from your phone, a bare foot tapping on the tile along with the beat. The scrape of wood on copper kept you busy. He turned back to Badru, allowing the form from his shoulders up to coalesce into a form he hadn’t adopted in…longer than he could readily recall.

Badru blinked, mouth gaping in awe.

Then, like a snap, Khonshu reverted back. Boo!

The peal of belly-clenching laughter took the moon god by complete surprise. His turn to jump, he mused, watching the child light up with incomprehensible humor lost on anyone older than himself. And the surge of delight along their connection precluded a tide of power that made Khonshu’s entire aura sag with relief.

You require startlement, he observed mildly. And here I thought that humans hated to be frightened.

Ru slung his hand insistently, gurgling like a drunkard.

Khonshu switched once more. Boo!

Badru laughed even louder, and even had the decency to clap for the moon god’s performance before demanding its repetition again.

This cycle carried on for several minutes, and every thought fell away from the forefront of Khonshu’s mind save one—who could have anticipated the utter delight that a baby’s laugh could elicit in even the coldest and darkest of hearts? Khonshu certainly hadn’t. It…almost made him feel—

“I see someone has learned how to keep him entertained.”

Khonshu’s insides leapt. Fortunately, he was in his usual state as he turned to glare over his shoulder at you leaning against the doorway. He hadn’t even noticed your approach. He rebound his hand and grunted as he stood, tucking the cackling babe into the crook of his arm. Deceptively simple, he lied. Humans are so very easy to entertain, after all.

“Of course,” you grinned, eyes glittering with mirth, looking all like the cat who trapped the canary.

Khonshu pressed the child back into your grasp. Your hands brushed his as the exchange was made, and even though he was at least one layer separated from your skin, the ghostly sensation still sent frissons rocketing up his arms. Would you be as pleasant to touch, he wondered, were he to investigate with his weathered palms?

I have matters to which I must attend until later, he rumbled stiffly, summoning his staff where he’d left it in the astral plane. Do not be late.

“I never am,” you reminded him with a cheeky smile, brimming with teeth this time, and Khonshu disappeared from your view with some relief—if he’d had a heart, it would have been racing.

You had almost seen, and that most certainly wouldn’t do.

“It’s going to get busier the closer we get to the holidays,” you warned Khonshu absently, closing your eyes as the draft continued to carry you through the clouds crowding over the slumbering city far below. “Everyone always decides to act like idiots or develop problems when medical staff try to take a break. I’ll try my best to keep up with everything, but I just wanted to give you a heads-up if I’m more tired than usual.”

Khonshu merely hummed from his space within the astral realm, tilting his fingers this way and that to guide the currents that carried the crescent-shaped cloak billowing in the otherwise frigid wind. It has been a recurring theme throughout the years, no matter what country or culture his avatars originated from—even when Egypt still stood, they had their festivities that often interfered with their duties, though at least those events pertained directly to the Ennead.

“…The next new moon falls on the night of the hospital facility Christmas party, too,” you added more quietly, “just so you know.”

And why would I need to know that? Khonshu questioned.

“You got…you acted like it bothered you last time.” You cleared your throat. “When I made plans outside of the usual routine and didn’t let you know, anyway. I didn’t want to surprise you again if I could help it.”

 Khonshu…wasn’t certain how to respond. Since your rooftop dive to provoke him into speaking with you, you hadn’t mentioned anything remotely close to the event not of any extracurricular activities in which you intended to participate on your next “off-day”. Things had returned to relative normalcy since then, and he’d been able to put it to the back of his mind (but he hadn’t forgotten it—no, he was uncertain that he’d ever be able to get the image of you in that dress out of his mind’s eye, nor the sheer bitterness that the entire situation had summoned in him like bile; he still inwardly growled to think of it, of the gentleman’s hands on you, even as courteous and chaste as he had been). He hadn’t ever insisted on you giving him an itinerary of your upcoming obligations, but…you were right, as much as he begrudged to admit it. It had bothered him. More than he had anticipated at the time.

 Khonshu had never counted himself to be the possessive sort of god, unlike those of his kindred who prided themselves on it—Sobek chief among them, the slant-eyed, narcissistic bastard. He’d always given his avatars wide berth to go about their daily lives, having never particularly cared about their whereabouts or goings-on unless they impeded their servitude to him. You were the first human whose company he’d actively sought in hundreds of years, and the first he’d…enjoyedin thousands. Despite how you irritated him so, your presence was a balm of serenity he hadn’t felt in ages. You had no ulterior motives for accessing his abilities save the agreement of your son’s protection, and didn’t ever attempt to utilize said abilities for anything other than the work he gave you—oftentimes he was the one forced to summon the suit in order to heal the various wounds you incurred, as you attempted to go about your day as normal without tending to them. You reminded him, in some ways, of his own mother—though the revelation was one that hurt more than comforted him.

You called him asinine names, talked incessantly, and it seemed your curiosity was never sated. You made him unbearably uncomfortable at times, and at others he could recall scarcely fewer moments when he’d felt as at ease. You were brimming with contradictions, and yet…Khonshu found himself continually and inexorably magnetized and drawn to remain in your orbit.

Fitting, he supposed. The moon will always be doomed to the circle the earth’s nurturing outer reaches—but never closer. Disaster would surely follow.

Still. He appreciated your thoughtfulness, your care to see to his needs (even if he refused to admit that he did need him to know—for your safety). Your expectation weighed heavy on the back of your mind, a steady inquisitive pressure that eventually won out over his inclination to remain silent. Thank you.

“You’re welcome.” You twisted over lazily, rolling in the draft that surged beneath the crescent-shaped cloak cracking like canvas. “Also…I know it might be a bit much to ask, but…can I have off Christmas Eve? Lizzie and I have a tradition of staying up til’ midnight, and since I’ve got Ru now, I thought…well. I’d like to stay with him. If that’s okay with you.”

Khonshu found that it was much easier to grant you such a request than he ever had before. As you wish, srit mewt****.

“Thank you.” He felt the distinct pull of your smile beneath the gauze covering your face. “I’ll be sure to leave out some cookies and milk for you, too, Big Bird. Unless you’d have a different preference.”

…You’re welcome. Khonshu huffed quietly. And that is unnecessary.

“Oh, come on, there’s got to be something you like.” You began to count off on your fingers. “Sugar, chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, peanut butter, oatmeal raisin…oh, I bet you’re a white chocolate and macadamia nut kind of guy!”

Were Khonshu capable of rolling his eyes, he would have. He opted for another terse sigh instead, intentionally directed into your ears. I have not had cookies, and therefore have no preference. I needn’t remind you that I am incapable of ingesting corporeal sustenance in my present state.

“That’s a damn shame,” you responded forlornly, though he didn’t miss the shiver that wracked your frame from his previous low register. “I’m not sure what I’d do without cookies. They’ve gotten me through a lot of tough times, you know.”

Humans have always had a proclivity towards sugar throughout the ages, and it would seem that it has…compounded over time.

“…I really hope you’re not calling me fat, Granddaddy Long-Beak, because I will start pulling out the skeleton jokes and you will apologize.”

I had no such implication, he simpered, spotting the location of his quarry come over the horizon between several squatting metal storehouses in the outskirts of the industrial district of the city. But Elizabeth’s stash of sweets has inexplicably diminished lately. She has not been pleased.

“It’s November, Khonshu. If I don’t get my pumpkin spice fix now it’ll be too late.”

I am certain that her massacred population of Kit-Kats would agree with you.

“You don’t eat, remember? So you have no right to judge me. Try one of those things and see if you don’t get addicted.”

It would likely cause me to disintegrate, as ‘frail’ as you are so convinced of my constitution being.

“I…did you just make a joke?”

The source of the scuffle is down there. Khonshu directed the winds to take you in a low sweep over the buildings. Be swift, and be quiet. There may be others lingering nearby.

You laughed quietly as you landed upon the iron beams framing the broken ceiling, muffled under the mask and stifled by your poor grasp at restraint. Your shadow fell upon the concrete below, surrounded by the moon’s mercurial glow, and yet the bickering lackeys below were none the wiser. “Fine, Khonshu. Spoil my fun. But if you’re ever in a position that Lizzie finds out about you, do not tell her that I did it.”

It is best to keep as few people aware of our activities as possible, he reminded you grimly, watching you size up the three large men toting guns on their hips. But even then, I will make no such promises.

“Traitor,” you gasped dramatically, and the sound drew the attention of the skinniest of the three—and obviously the jumpiest, because he immediately bolted towards their truck to start it while the slower two craned their necks back to squint up at your silhouette with some confusion. “Welp. Looks like I’ve lost the element of surprise. Sorry to drop in unannounced, fellas, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to crash the pity party!”

Khonshu, slipping out of the astral realm into a crouch, observing with some amusement as you nimbly stepped off the beam and descended in a flurry of ivory linen to apprehend the painfully amateur bank thieves. Your khopeshes cleaved their pistols in half like butter, and a good throw into the radiator of their vehicle killed its chugging engine the exact moment the skinniest one managed to coax it to life.

This is what he had missed while stewing in his own misery—your easy conversation, your lighthearted quips, your humored reactivity. This is what made you dangerous. This is why he should let you go.

But, sea of nothing, he didn’t think he could bear to.

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four Chapter 1

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 118k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: In order to save the world from the continuous subjugation and potential annihilation at the hands of Tiandi, hard lines must be drawn. The Great Spirits that were imprisoned ages ago must be unsealed and awakened, no matter the consequences.

The players are divided—those who stand blindly with Tiandi, such as Xiang Merra and her disciples versus those who want to tear the system down and give the power back to the people. Even a few of the most religious Lords change their minds when they learn the truth of the world—that Tiandi is no more than a dictator with no love in his heart.

It is up to the last, real Xiang and the ill-fated Chaaya to put everything they have into tearing God from his throne and creating new possibilities for the future.

Full chapter 1 under the cut

Chapter I:

It was strange how much they all looked the same but even with some identical features, one could still find small things that marked individuality. Gong liked to do so every time he and his brothers were together. He was the easiest to discern, he knew, since his beard was shorter than the others. But, Jun had less wrinkles and rounder eyes. Hwang had a couple of beauty marks that were unique to him as well as very swollen joints in his fingers that made them look knobby.

Then there was Zhu.

He definitely looked the most like Tiandi but he had a different nose—slightly hooked downward and narrower than Tiandi. His brows as well were just a smidge fuller and with a few wayward hairs.

“Gong.”

The use of his name made him return to his senses. He had been half paying attention to the meeting, especially since they all liked to go on and on about minor issues before getting to the meat anyway. Most of their meetings would wind up taking double the time because the beginning was often just a sharing of stories or catching up rather than discussing the topic at hand.

It was why Gong felt so comfortable zoning out.

He blinked a few times and straightened his back. “Yes?”

Jun quirked an eyebrow while Hwang rubbed his forehead and Zhu glared. It appeared as though he had inadvertently missed something important.

“We were asking what you felt we should do with an unruly Xiang. Had this been, say, Xiang Don, what do you think we would do?" Jun frowned as he spoke.

Gong realized, all at once, that they had been talking about Pangu but without saying his name. He mentally cursed and looked down at his hands. “Well, we certainly did not have an especially close connection with Don. We took him into our care later and did not establish the same rapport as we have with the past few Xiang. I imagine we would have behaved very differently.”

“Those are a lot of words to contribute nothing,” Zhu muttered.

Hwang came to his defense, sort of, “You know he feels connected to Pangu. Despite me being the boy’s father, he sees him as a son.”

“I see all the Xiang I have mentored as my children,” Gong countered but none looked at him as though they believed him.

Even the few spirits that gathered around the clearing, peering in past the trees and brush, regarded him skeptically. Gong even partly expected Tiandi to appear in the sky and shoot him a look from up high. Though, technically, it was unnecessary for Tiandi to be present at all.

So long as they were all around each other, it was quite the same as having him there.

“I have only been with a handful of Xiang but even I know that is not true,” Jun countered. “The last Xiang you really cared for was Soren but was that not just pity guiding you?”

Gong flinched at the drop of that name.

Soren had been the Xiang before last, a sweet but foolhardy boy from Agni who lost two of his disciples in an ambush by the Chaaya. The sudden and unexpected loss left him traumatized and both Gong and Jun had to return to him and fill in for his disciples just to motivate him enough to push forward.

In the end, Soren died after killing the Chaaya because of miasma poisoning.

He was nineteen when it happened.

“Enough of this back and forth,” Zhu, figuratively, put his foot down. “I would like a direct answer from you, Gong. What do you think we should do about Pangu?”

He nearly responded with “Why would my input even matter?” but he bit down on his tongue. It was clear, however, that Zhu or, rather, Tiandi had already decided on a plan and they were all due to follow it without question.

That was always the case.

From Gong’s memory, it had not even been something he was aware of when he first came to be blessed with the Tian aspect. Although, when he meditated on it, he noticed that he had been overwhelmed in the beginning. There had barely been any of him in control—it was almost all Tiandi.

It was not until a couple of centuries later that he began to acclimate.

His old life, back from when he was just a man, was something he thought about often and something he suspected his brothers did not entertain. Sometimes he would just stare at them and wonder if they remembered their lives from before at all.

If they missed those days.

If they ever regretted ascending.

Sometimes he did.

Gong was once called Blanc Gong Cuad and he lived in a small village with his family. He herded sheep and he was devoted to Tiandi. Every day, he left offerings on a shrine and, every night, he prayed for the basics—protection for his sheep, rain for the crops, and good health. In his spare time, he practiced meditation and some martial arts although, back then, he was admittedly quite bad at them.

Yet, his dedication paid off and Tiandi took note of him.

At the end of his life, he passed from the mortal realm into the spirit realm and he was met with Tiandi, Zhu, and Hwang. The rest, honestly, became fuzzy after that moment and the next prominent memory Gong had was looking at himself in the reflective surface of a pond.

So much of what made him Gong was gone and, in the place of those features, there was Tiandi. Every imperfection was made perfect by Him and, soon after he noticed that, he also noticed that he was not alone in his mind.

‘I look like Tiandi,’ he thought to himself.

Immediately, the reply came, ‘You are now Tiangong. This is you.’

It was jarring and, in hindsight, Gong was sure he gave over control of his new body to Tiandi more often than not because having to exist in that form was still too overwhelming. He became used to it, obviously, but he also learned how to shut Tiandi out.

There was nothing he did that demanded secrecy but Gong just wished for a little privacy now and then. Zhu had actually been the one to teach him the method when he noticed him struggling with Tiandi’s constant presence.

Zhu, out of all of them, was the most blended with Tiandi. Sometimes it was difficult to tell who was really at the forefront but, when he taught Gong how to get a little peace for himself, he surely did seem like just Zhu.

Though Gong had not seen that man in ages. Since the time of Xiang Kern, if he had to guess, and that was quite a while ago.

Now, it was as if three versions of Tiandi were staring Gong down, boring holes into him. He gulped and finally stumbled out an answer.

“Perhaps we should bring Pangu somewhere with just us and speak to him again?”

Zhu frowned, as expected, and Hwang gave a dry chuckle. “Like we did already? That went well, did it not, brother?”

“I do not think we made our stance clear,” Gong persisted.

“I felt the hints were quite heavy handed,” Jun replied.

Perhaps but they did not, definitively, tell Pangu what they wanted from him either. Just that they did not especially care for some of his disciples and that he was to be careful going forward. Plus, so much of their attention had been on Merra that they did not have the time to have a thorough talk.

Not that it would have changed much, Gong argued in his own mind. He knew how stubborn that boy was and he knew that he was going to continue doing what he felt was right no matter what. If they had told him to dump Kira—or else—he most certainly would not have done it.

Then they would have had this conversation much sooner.

“Still, we did not state our plans for him directly,” Gong said and then cleared his throat, “We just hoped and assumed that he would do as we wished.”

“He was a good boy,” Hwang retorted, “Why would we have expected anything else?”

“Exactly,” Zhu agreed, “He was well mannered and respectful. None of us could have expected…this.”

“Did I raise a different child than the rest of you?” Gong could not hold it in. Pangu was sweet, sure, and he wanted to please them but he always had his own ideas about things. He had lost count of the number of times the boy had followed up a lesson with “why?” Some rules of Tiandi he always regarded with a shrug and, had Gong been paying more attention, he could have easily seen the root of it. But to say his recent choices came as a complete surprise? He could not.

“What? Did you notice something we were all blind to?” Jun scoffed. “Please, enlighten us.”

“Nothing bad, not necessarily,” Gong defended, “Just…Pangu was always exceptionally curious. He questioned most of Tiandi’s rules and he wanted to know more about the cultures of other lands beyond what was required of him. He had very different impressions of…controversial…historical figures than we were used to. He always wanted to hear both sides of a story and he asked us more questions about what Shakti was like than we had ever heard from another Xiang.”

“So you mean to say we should have seen this coming?” Zhu arched an eyebrow.

“Not this, exactly…” Gong tried to swallow down the lump in his throat but it was impossible with all of their eyes on him. He even felt Tiandi’s eyes coming from within him.

“I suppose, in the future, we should avoid allowing children such curiosity and free thought,” Hwang mentioned and stroked down his beard, “Clearly, giving room for anything besides obedience is a recipe for disaster.”

Gong frowned. “Is this…truly…worse than the Xiang who married or had children? Or those who otherwise abandoned their task?”

“He denounced Tiandi in front of people!” Zhu snapped. “He proclaimed to know more than Him and encouraged others to do the same. How could you even possibly suggest he is the same as those who simply acted out of their selfish base desires?”

“They are equally heinous to me,” Hwang replied, “And I believe we should deal with Pangu in the same manner we handled those Xiang.”

It was chilling to hear it said so causally—especially since Hwang was, biologically, Pangu’s father. He held no love in his eyes as he flagrantly suggested ending his son’s life.

As the three of them mumbled and nodded, Gong felt a thousand miles away. He thought of taking Pangu into his arms when he was a babe and making him laugh so that he would stop crying. He thought of teaching him how to write and how to read older scripts. He thought of chasing him around the temple grounds when he escaped bath time.

How was he supposed to be alright with just killing him?

“Gong,” Zhu said his name like a command. When he made eye contact, the eldest continued, “Do you have any objections?”

His gaze jumped from one Prince to the next and they each glared at him, as if they expected him to delve into a speech about how they needed to operate with more grace rather than be so heavy handed. He wanted to but he also knew he was in a precarious position. He had felt it for a time but, since Pangu began rattling the cage, it had become even more apparent.

Gong was not on the same page as his brothers. He knew it. They knew it. And they were constantly looking for little things to pull them further apart. Little things they could grab onto and exacerbate. He felt it in every interaction, every look.

If he made one wrong move or said something they resented, he could be looking at the end of his existence.

It had happened once already, although it was before Gong’s time so he really only heard stories from Zhu and, briefly, Tiandi. The details were vague, as one could expect, and Gong only knew the name Badou and that he was the second Prince to be made, before Hwang.

Something had gone wrong with the Tian aspect in Badou—he did not take it well and he had to be let go which, incidentally, killed him. In his resting place, a temple was built to honor him and to keep his memory alive though no one, outside of them, knew about it.

The temple of Tian-Badou, the temple they raised Pangu in, was a constant reminder that the Princes were lucky they ascended with no problems.

Gong, however, had started to wonder about the story he was told, especially as he felt, more and more, pushed out of the group. When he saw them with Merra’s disciples—with Gongji in particular—he began to feel anxious. His name was already similar enough and he was the clear favorite.

What would stop them, really, from killing Gong and having Gongji assume his role? Would anyone even notice?

“Gong?” Jun said and waved his hand out. “Objections?”

“Oh.” He felt his throat tighten. “No.”

It seemed no one had expected him to agree to the plan and Zhu, in particular, looked surprised. “Oh…well then. I suppose we should prepare.”

Gong nodded, wordlessly, as his hands balled into fists in his robes. Of course he did not want Pangu to die but he also could not help him if he was killed first.

He would need to play along with the group until he was able to leave and be somewhere on his own. Somewhere he could summon an old friend and desperately plot.

[and-then-there-were-n0ne]

A smart friend recently told me he muted a prominent academic on Twitter.

“Why?” I asked.

“I like his books and think his ideas are brilliant,” he replied, “but on Twitter he’s so obnoxious that I noticed something: The more of his posts I saw, the less I respected his books. So I muted him to stop that from happening.”

To keep his respect for this academic’s best ideas intact, my friend chose to reduce his exposure to this academic’s erratic online behavior.

This method can help retain perspective not only for individuals, but for groups as well.

A while back I read a study about the “perception gap” from the Hidden Tribes Project.

The perception gap is the difference between what each political party thinks of the other versus the reality.

Here are a couple of intriguing findings from the study:

People who read the news have a more distorted view of their political opponents

Compared with political extremists (who consume a lot of news), politically disengaged people are 3 times more accurate in guessing how their political opponents think

The analogy between political parties and a single individual isn’t perfect.

If you want to form an accurate judgment about a person, knowing how they behave on social media might be a useful data point.

But if you want to form an accurate judgment about a political group, then being relentlessly exposed to the most extreme and online members of that group is a bad way to do it.

Remember: The vast majority of Twitter users never post at all.

What you see on the bird app is posted by a handful of weirdos.

Only 22 percent of U.S. adults are on Twitter.

Ten percent of users post 80 percent of all tweets.

If you rely on Twitter for political information, you are being informed by pundits (and bots) residing within 2.2 percent of the population. This small group tends to be the most politically extreme.

Reading political news makes you dumber. But reading political tweets lowers your IQ even more.

Reviewing the perception gap study, it was nice to get some empirical backing for something I’ve long practiced: muting words on Twitter.

My initial decision to mute words on Twitter was not to become smarter—that was just a fortunate side effect.

I mainly did it because people tend to sink to lower versions of themselves whenever they speak about political topics on social media.

If someone is going to discuss a contentious political issue, I’d rather read their essay, paper, or book than their Tweet. On social media, the desire for validation often overshadows the desire for clarity or truth.

Of course, if you make your living through political commentary or something, then muting doesn’t make sense. But if consuming political content doesn’t make you money or make you happy (often, it makes you unhappy), then why expose yourself to all of it?

It is mystifying to see people complain about how toxic Twitter is. The platform gives you the ability to mute and block! Take responsibility and control of your own experience.

Some people might be worried that by muting words they will no longer be “informed.”

Trust me: if something truly noteworthy occurs, you will know. People will tell you. They will message you. They will send you links. They can’t help themselves.

I have a bunch of words muted. Yet I knew on the same day as everyone else about Ukraine, the Uvalde shooting, the overturning of Roe v. Wade, etc.

I learned the concrete facts about these events.

But my feed wasn’t inundated with hot takes about them. Which made Twitter much more pleasant.

The mute function just prevents tweets containing selected words from appearing on your timeline. If someone sends you a link to a tweet, you’ll still be able to see it. Mute is primarily useful when you are scrolling.

So here are some words I mute from my Twitter feed:

Guns

Shooting

Ukraine

Putin

Tragic

Abortion

Election

Mask

I can’t believe this has to be said

Let that sink in

I’m so sorry

BLM

Biden

Trump

MAGA

Democracy

Loan forgiveness

Taylor Lorenz

Imagine thinking

Climate

Yikes

Greta Thunberg

Relatedly, a couple years ago I read a study indicating that certain words (what the researchers termed “moral-emotional” words) were more likely to predict virality.

Each of these words in a Twitter post is associated with a 20 percent increase in retweets.

I located the words in the supplemental material of the study. Then I visited Twitter and muted all of them.

Here are the words:

Attack

Bad

Blame

Care

Destroy

Fight

Hate

Kill

Murder

Peace

Safe

Shame

Terrorism

War

Wrong

Interestingly, muting all of these words makes Twitter more boring.

Which means I’m quicker to put my phone away and read a book or an essay or a paper instead.

Which is better for everyone.

[bllsbailey]

New Text Messages Reveal Another Troubling Update on Trump Assassination Attempt

Two words describe the security situation at the Trump rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, on July 13: hot mess. There are so many glaring flaws, and the ground is so inexcusable that it is fertile for conspiracy theorists. Can you blame them? The Secret Service is stonewalling and stacking sandbags amid intense scrutiny from lawmakers from both parties.

We don’t know if would-be assassin Thomas Matthew Crooks was a lone gunman. How many casings were recovered from the roof? We don’t know. What we do know is that no one at the Secret Service has been disciplined for this calamity, and now text messages obtained by The New York Times show that snipers knew about Crooks earlier than initially reported. It provides yet another damning update on the assassination attempt that nearly killed a former president. Crooks missed delivering a fatal headshot by millimeters [emphasis mine]: 

— Collin Rugg (@CollinRugg) July 29, 2024

Nearly 100 minutes before former President Donald J. Trump took the stage in Butler, Pa., a local countersniper who was part of the broader security detail let his colleagues know his shift was ending.  “Guys I am out. Be safe,” he texted to a group of colleagues at 4:19 p.m. on July 13. He exited the second floor of a warehouse that overlooked the campaign rally site, leaving two other countersnipers behind.  Outside, the officer noticed a young man with long stringy hair sitting on a picnic table near the warehouse. So at 4:26 p.m., he texted his colleagues about the man, who was outside the fenced area of the Butler Fair Show grounds where Mr. Trump was to appear. He said that the person would have seen him come out with his rifle and “knows you guys are up there.”  The countersniper who sent the texts confirmed to The New York Times that the individual he saw was later identified as the gunman.  By 5:10 p.m., the young man was no longer on the picnic table. He was right below the countersnipers, who were upstairs in a warehouse owned by AGR International. One of the countersnipers took pictures of him, according to a law enforcement after-action report, which along with the texts from the Beaver County Emergency Services Unit was provided to The Times by the office of Senator Charles E. Grassley, Republican of Iowa. The text messages were independently verified by The Times.  At 5:38 p.m., the photos were shared in a group chat, and another text went out among the officers, saying they should inform the Secret Service. “Kid learning around building we are in. AGR I believe it is. I did see him with a range finder looking towards stage. FYI. If you wanna notify SS snipers to look out. I lost sight of him.”  […]  Taken together, the text messages provide the most detailed picture yet of the hours before the assassination attempt. They reveal that the gunman, later identified as Thomas Crooks, 20, of Bethel Park, Pa., aroused police suspicion more than 90 minutes before the shooting, rather than about 60 minutes, as has been previously discussed in congressional hearings.  The messages also add to the evidence that the would-be assassin was often one step ahead of security forces, and in particular the Secret Service. 

The lengthy article details Crooks’ activities that we know thus far, including packages delivered to his home, where some materials were used to build a couple of makeshift explosive devices. Two were discovered in the van at the rally site, and another was found inside the residence. He scoped the rally site before the Secret Service did their walkthrough on July 8 and used a drone to conduct aerial surveillance. The Secret Service opted not to deploy one during the rally. The American Glass Research rooftop was excluded from the agency’s “inner security perimeter.” Who was tasked with covering this glaring security vulnerability remains to be verified. We know that no personnel were on the rooftop less than 200 yards, with a clear line of sight, to Mr. Trump on the rally stage. 

There were reports that Secret Service snipers had their sights on Crooks for two minutes before he opened fire, but this timeline changes the narrative again. Local SWAT teams told ABC News they had photos and details about Crooks, relaying the information that apparently never got the attention required, a damning indictment of the seemingly ramshackle communications system deployed that day.

— Breaking911 (@Breaking911) July 28, 2024

The team took responsibility for the shooting, which injured Trump and left one man, Corey Comperatore, dead, along with two others injured. 

How local law enforcement was deployed is another puzzling piece to this fiasco. Crooks was able to essentially roam at will; the only police who encountered him were cops who left their duties directing traffic: 

Mr. Crooks did something that alarmed the police. They saw him using the range finder. A Beaver County countersniper shared two photos of Mr. Crooks with his colleagues at 5:38 p.m., which were then relayed to the Secret Service, through a series of steps in the command center.  One of the two remaining countersnipers “ran out of the building attempting to keep eyes on Crooks until other law enforcement arrived,” according to a statement by Richard Goldinger, the Butler County district attorney, who supervises some of the law enforcement units.  But Mr. Crooks ran off, taking a backpack with him, Mr. Goldinger said. When the officer was unable to find Mr. Crooks, he returned to his post.  Four Butler Township police officers who had been directing traffic joined the manhunt.  At 6 p.m., one officer in the group texts guessed that Mr. Crooks was moving toward the back of the complex of AGR buildings, “away from the event.” Instead, Mr. Crooks clambered onto the low-slung building in the complex closest to the stage.  Mr. Trump took the podium at 6:03 p.m., to a roaring crowd. 

Around this time was also when onlookers noticed Crooks on the roof before shots were fired. The Secret Service reportedly knew around this time, ten minutes before he took the stage, that there was a threat against Mr. Trump. They did nothing, not even telling the former president, who said he would have waited until everything was okay. 

There were mountains of questions about the security flaws at this rally. Now, there are more, with an agency being the very definition of uncooperative.

— Breaking911 (@Breaking911) July 23, 2024

[candacependletonca]

Understanding Empty Nest Syndrome

Empty nest syndrome is a term used to describe various emotions parents feel after their children have moved out. Individuals may experience empty nest syndrome for a short or long period, and the symptoms, which include sadness, irritability, and grief, can range widely in severity. Parents may experience these emotions when children leave for college, move into their own homes, or begin forming adult relationships with their peers. According to Psychology Today, women typically experience empty nest syndrome more frequently than men.

There is some debate regarding the reality of empty nest syndrome, which is not a clinical disorder or diagnosis. Research indicates that discussions regarding empty syndrome often overstate the prevalence and impact of the condition. Studies also suggest that families encounter more emotional and behavioral challenges when younger children start to leave early childhood behind; sending a child to middle school is usually more emotionally taxing than sending a child to college. However, these same studies confirm that parents can struggle as their children transition to adulthood, and some families may require help to navigate the changes.

The causes behind empty nest syndrome are slightly more complex than they may appear. Parents may begin to experience symptoms of empty nest syndrome while their children are still living in the house. Events that may trigger empty nest syndrome range from children getting their first jobs or, as mentioned, beginning more mature relationships. Furthermore, researchers have determined that parents are less concerned about their children leaving home and growing up. Instead, parents are troubled by the realization that they do not have as strong or stable a relationship with their children as they desire. In other words, empty nest syndrome is generally not an issue for parents who have established healthy, supportive relationships with their children and may be indicative of a relationship defined by detachment, resentment, or various forms of conflict.

A few common symptoms of empty nest syndrome include feelings of loss, loneliness, and distress. The syndrome may manifest as more serious psychological conditions, such as depression, and may include specific anxieties and worries about what a child is doing when they are away from home. In some cases, empty nest syndrome can create or exacerbate marital tensions. It is not uncommon for parents to feel as if they no longer have a purpose in life. If any of these symptoms persist for long periods or begin to impact a person’s professional performance or daily life, they should reach out to a mental health professional for support.

Individuals can potentially treat mild cases of empty nest syndrome on their own. Basic strategies include considering the benefits of having an “empty nest,” which include re-organizing one’s life around adult needs and forging a new, post-child-raising identity. Married couples will have increased opportunities to pursue both shared and separate interests. If symptoms such as depression and loneliness become overwhelming, parents can benefit from talk therapy and other services provided by a licensed health care practitioner.

Families can also take preemptive steps to prevent empty nest syndrome. In addition to establishing a healthy, communicative relationship with children, parents should ask children specific questions about family dynamics, both positive and negative. For example, if a child feels that their parents are too overbearing and controlling, parents must determine the most effective mode and frequency of communication after the child moves out. Otherwise, they risk driving the child away. On the other hand, if children enjoy the positive support they receive from their family, parents should establish a schedule for regular communication, whether it is daily, weekly, or whatever works best.

[curtklingermanposts]

Critical Spirits

The Purpose of Speaking Truth in Love

Ephesians 4:15 But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into Him in all things, which is the Head, even Christ. The purpose of speaking the truth in love is to benefit the recipient of what is being said, with the intent to help him or her to grow up into Christ. Scripture plays a major role. 2 Timothy 3:16-17 All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: That the man of God may be perfect (complete), throughly furnished unto all good works. It is important to note that truth is God-centered. Factual statements do not necessarily constitute truth, especially if they are used against others! For example, using factual statements in order to use someone’s past against him. Another example, would be using Scripture out of context to manipulate others. Using factual statements to vent is not exactly love, either. Truth is all about intent. In short, without love, there is no truth. When reading the entirety of Ephesians four, we find truth provides discernment and stability. It combats deceit, and false teaching. The more truth we have, the less we can be deceived. Truth causes growth; and without it, people remain immature.

Those With Critical Spirits

Clearly, those with a critical attitude will have a difficult time speaking the truth in love. They tend look for faults in others, and generally find them -whether they actually exist or not. The Pharisees found fault with Jesus; but in truth, the fault was with them. Self-righteous people tend to be fault-finders. In many instances, they will use Scripture against others. Here's an irony: knowing the Word is part of maturity; however, using the Word against others is a sign of immaturity. A person’s ability to site chapter and verse might seem impressive, but if he does not couple it with love and wisdom, he can actually become a stumbling block to others. A critical spirit is a sign of bitterness, which often gets projected on others. It’s one reason one can meet a total stranger, and instantly resent him. In this case, he is holding someone in unforgiveness, and the stranger reminds him of the one who hurt him. The appearance, speech, attitude or mannerisms (or the combination of any) of the individual triggers the resentment. This may be something of which to pay attention. If we find ourselves instantly detesting a perfect stranger, we may have something with which to deal. What faults do people tend to find in others? The ones they themselves have. Other people can serve as a proverbial mirror. We see it all the time, people pointing fingers at others, while doing the same things, or having identical traits, themselves. We should probably take advantage of those mirrors. The Lord might be trying to show something. Hmmm. Of course, a person could just go using other people’s faults to cover their own. Here a couple scriptures with which to close. Ephesians 4:31-21 Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice: And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you. Matthew 7:1-5 Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.

perfectfaith.org

[tastydregs]

Guy "Outsources" His Own Memory to AI

To cope with the very real challenges that humans face when trying to remember everything that we read online, tech journalist Shubham Agarwal decided to "outsource" his memory to assistive AI.

"Often during the day, I end up Googling articles I read just a few hours ago because I can't recall more than a few key words," Agarwal wrote for Insider, detailing how the never-ending digital publishing ecosystem and the skim-style reading practices that it encourages — coupled with the fact that it's simply just harder to remember text we read on screens than text we read on paper — has basically decimated his memory. (Relatable.)

But while the app that Agarwal turned to, an AI-powered web browser extension called Heyday, does seem pretty useful, there might be one hell of a downside.

"In the three weeks I spent with the app," he continued, "I found it was effective at helping me remember things, but it comes with a catch: using a memory tool like this has the potential to make your biological memory worse over time."

Unlike competitors that pretty much just make lists of web pages you've visited — often requiring a lot of input on the user side — Heyday scans nearly everything that you consume on that web browser, including but not limited to "documents, messages, files, newsletters, notes, presentations, spreadsheets, [and] tweets," according to its website.

From there, the data is divided into specific categories, which the app then draws on to create dynamic prompts for the user — in search results, in articles and documents, and so on. And because the machine learns as it goes, the individualized algorithm just gets more precise over time. (Heyday also claims to encrypt all of the data it collects.)

By Agarwal's description of his experience, the app certainly seems to fall in line with a number of other machine assistants that have cropped up in the last few years, like Apple's Siri and Amazon's Alexa. And to the credit of the folks at Heyday, humans already rely on a number of tools, digital and analog, to help them remember things like appointments and notes — calendars, to-do lists, reminders, etcetera. There's also, of course, human assistants and secretaries that administratively hold people and businesses together.

"Our capacity to process incoming information is naturally limited," Andrew Dillon, an information-and-psychology professor at the University of Texas, told Agarwal, adding that "we pay a cost in terms of memory and comprehension or time" when we try to comprehend too much at once.

That in mind, AI like Heyday does seem helpful, and humans are more predictable than we'd generally like to think. Even so, there's something at least a little eerie about an app that, without requiring manual input, both "remembers" what you might need to recall and thus prompts you to do so.

And while the Heyday CEO Samiur Rahman told Agarwal that the app is intended to "increase the creative output of individuals" by allowing them to focus less on recall and more on "thinking, creativity, and analysis," it's hard to shake the feeling that something deeply human might get lost in-between — especially when a function of the mind as essential as memory can hardly be considered a lowly administrative task.

"Why learn a poem by heart if you can pull it up on demand? What's the point of learning your math tables if you can just ask Alexa for the answer? Like our bodies, do our minds also need to be exercised to maintain full functioning?" Dillon continued, warning that use of an app like this could render human memory more reliant on tech than ever. "I think there's some truth in this."

READ MORE: I Outsourced My Memory to AI for 3 Weeks [Insider]

More on AI assistants:OpenAI Confirms Huge Partnership with Microsoft, Which Just Laid off 10,000 People

The post Guy "Outsources" His Own Memory to AI appeared first on Futurism.

[capitalnewsonline]

What is the Difference Between an Uncontested Divorce and a Contested Divorce in Arizona?

‍

Uncontested divorce and contested divorce are terms used to indicate how amicable couples are during the divorce process. An uncontested divorce means that both parties agree on all essential terms of their divorce, meaning they don’t have to contest anything. A contested divorce, on the other hand, refers to a scenario where both spouses cannot agree on at least one major aspect of their separation. In other words, there is contention over some element of the couple’s breakup. It is often recommended that couples with children or significant assets undergo a mediated settlement rather than going to trial. This process allows them to meet with a neutral third party mediator who helps them come up with an agreeable settlement outside court. The mediation process can also be helpful for couples who just want a simple exit from marriage instead of going through several months of litigation and paperwork.

  Uncontested Divorce

An uncontested divorce is a divorce in which the spouses involved agree on all issues surrounding the divorce, including property division and child custody, and hardly ever go to trial. There are many reasons why couples may decide to get divorced through an uncontested divorce, including the fact that getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce can help save money compared to getting a divorce through a contested divorce. Another benefit of getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce is that it can be faster than a contested divorce. In addition, getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce is less stressful than getting a divorce through a contested divorce because there are fewer arguments between the spouses. Uncontested divorces are usually completed in a shorter amount of time than a contested divorce because there is not as much back and forth on the issues being disputed. In general, there are fewer hassles involved in getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce than there are in getting a divorce through a contested divorce.

  Contested Divorce

A contested divorce refers to a divorce in which one or both spouses contest at least one aspect of the divorce, such as child custody, child support, spousal support, or property division. Couples who contest their divorce may do so because they can’t agree on one or more of these issues, or because they want to maximize their chances of receiving a favorable ruling from a judge. If spouses go through a contested divorce, they may have to appear in court to present their case in front of a judge. It is possible for contested divorces to take several months or even a few years to complete. It all depends on how much the spouses are contesting and the individual court system where the divorcing couple resides.

  Advantages of an uncontested divorce

- No third-party intervention: In an uncontested divorce, both spouses are able to decide their own terms of the divorce. There is no intervention from a neutral third party. This is one of the main advantages of an uncontested divorce. - Quicker divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce have a quicker divorce than those who go through a contested divorce. There is less paperwork, and there are fewer arguments between the spouses. - Less stressful divorce: Overall, divorce through an uncontested divorce is less stressful than divorce through a contested divorce. This is because there are less arguments between the spouses and less intervention from a third party. - Less expensive divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce typically spend less on their divorce than couples who go through a contested divorce. This is because there is less intervention from a third party and less money going toward legal fees.

  Disadvantages of an uncontested divorce

- Less likely to be granted: If spouses decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce, they may not be granted one. In fact, many uncontested divorces are ultimately contested because spouses don’t feel like they have a fair deal. - Fewer legal protections: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce have fewer legal protections than those who go through a contested divorce. This is because they have less protections against spouses who have malicious intent, such as one spouse trying to take advantage of the other. - Less detail in divorce terms: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce typically don’t get as detailed in their divorce terms as those who go through a contested divorce. This is because there is less back and forth between the spouses. As a result, couples who get an uncontested divorce may face a higher risk of having their divorce overturned in the future.

  Advantages of a contested divorce

- More likely to be granted: Couples who go through a contested divorce are more likely to be granted a divorce than those who get an uncontested divorce. This is because there is more back and forth between the spouses on their divorce terms and because there may be more evidence to support their divorce. - More legal protections: Couples who decide to get a divorce through a contested divorce have more legal protections than those who get an uncontested divorce. This is because they are more likely to get their divorce terms written in detail and because they have more protection against malicious spouses.

  Disadvantages of a contested divorce

- More expensive divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through a contested divorce usually spend more on their divorce than couples who get an uncontested divorce. This is because they spend more time arguing over the details of their divorce and because they have to hire a lawyer to help them through the divorce process.

  Conclusion

In the end, the best decision for a couple is the one that works best for them. While there are many advantages and disadvantages to each type of divorce, it ultimately comes down to what the couple finds most advantageous for their situation.

If you are considering a divorce, your should contact an experieced divorce attorney as early in your process as possible.  In the Phoenix area contact Colburn Hintze Maletta to schedule a case consultation.  Call (602) 932-2999.

[dailyruling-news]

What is the Difference Between an Uncontested Divorce and a Contested Divorce in Arizona?

‍

Uncontested divorce and contested divorce are terms used to indicate how amicable couples are during the divorce process. An uncontested divorce means that both parties agree on all essential terms of their divorce, meaning they don’t have to contest anything. A contested divorce, on the other hand, refers to a scenario where both spouses cannot agree on at least one major aspect of their separation. In other words, there is contention over some element of the couple’s breakup. It is often recommended that couples with children or significant assets undergo a mediated settlement rather than going to trial. This process allows them to meet with a neutral third party mediator who helps them come up with an agreeable settlement outside court. The mediation process can also be helpful for couples who just want a simple exit from marriage instead of going through several months of litigation and paperwork.

  Uncontested Divorce

An uncontested divorce is a divorce in which the spouses involved agree on all issues surrounding the divorce, including property division and child custody, and hardly ever go to trial. There are many reasons why couples may decide to get divorced through an uncontested divorce, including the fact that getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce can help save money compared to getting a divorce through a contested divorce. Another benefit of getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce is that it can be faster than a contested divorce. In addition, getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce is less stressful than getting a divorce through a contested divorce because there are fewer arguments between the spouses. Uncontested divorces are usually completed in a shorter amount of time than a contested divorce because there is not as much back and forth on the issues being disputed. In general, there are fewer hassles involved in getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce than there are in getting a divorce through a contested divorce.

  Contested Divorce

A contested divorce refers to a divorce in which one or both spouses contest at least one aspect of the divorce, such as child custody, child support, spousal support, or property division. Couples who contest their divorce may do so because they can’t agree on one or more of these issues, or because they want to maximize their chances of receiving a favorable ruling from a judge. If spouses go through a contested divorce, they may have to appear in court to present their case in front of a judge. It is possible for contested divorces to take several months or even a few years to complete. It all depends on how much the spouses are contesting and the individual court system where the divorcing couple resides.

  Advantages of an uncontested divorce

- No third-party intervention: In an uncontested divorce, both spouses are able to decide their own terms of the divorce. There is no intervention from a neutral third party. This is one of the main advantages of an uncontested divorce. - Quicker divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce have a quicker divorce than those who go through a contested divorce. There is less paperwork, and there are fewer arguments between the spouses. - Less stressful divorce: Overall, divorce through an uncontested divorce is less stressful than divorce through a contested divorce. This is because there are less arguments between the spouses and less intervention from a third party. - Less expensive divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce typically spend less on their divorce than couples who go through a contested divorce. This is because there is less intervention from a third party and less money going toward legal fees.

  Disadvantages of an uncontested divorce

- Less likely to be granted: If spouses decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce, they may not be granted one. In fact, many uncontested divorces are ultimately contested because spouses don’t feel like they have a fair deal. - Fewer legal protections: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce have fewer legal protections than those who go through a contested divorce. This is because they have less protections against spouses who have malicious intent, such as one spouse trying to take advantage of the other. - Less detail in divorce terms: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce typically don’t get as detailed in their divorce terms as those who go through a contested divorce. This is because there is less back and forth between the spouses. As a result, couples who get an uncontested divorce may face a higher risk of having their divorce overturned in the future.

  Advantages of a contested divorce

- More likely to be granted: Couples who go through a contested divorce are more likely to be granted a divorce than those who get an uncontested divorce. This is because there is more back and forth between the spouses on their divorce terms and because there may be more evidence to support their divorce. - More legal protections: Couples who decide to get a divorce through a contested divorce have more legal protections than those who get an uncontested divorce. This is because they are more likely to get their divorce terms written in detail and because they have more protection against malicious spouses.

  Disadvantages of a contested divorce

- More expensive divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through a contested divorce usually spend more on their divorce than couples who get an uncontested divorce. This is because they spend more time arguing over the details of their divorce and because they have to hire a lawyer to help them through the divorce process.

  Conclusion

In the end, the best decision for a couple is the one that works best for them. While there are many advantages and disadvantages to each type of divorce, it ultimately comes down to what the couple finds most advantageous for their situation.

If you are considering a divorce, your should contact an experieced divorce attorney as early in your process as possible.  In the Phoenix area contact Colburn Hintze Maletta to schedule a case consultation.  Call (602) 932-2999.

[buzzyblastnews]

What is the Difference Between an Uncontested Divorce and a Contested Divorce in Arizona?

‍

Uncontested divorce and contested divorce are terms used to indicate how amicable couples are during the divorce process. An uncontested divorce means that both parties agree on all essential terms of their divorce, meaning they don’t have to contest anything. A contested divorce, on the other hand, refers to a scenario where both spouses cannot agree on at least one major aspect of their separation. In other words, there is contention over some element of the couple’s breakup. It is often recommended that couples with children or significant assets undergo a mediated settlement rather than going to trial. This process allows them to meet with a neutral third party mediator who helps them come up with an agreeable settlement outside court. The mediation process can also be helpful for couples who just want a simple exit from marriage instead of going through several months of litigation and paperwork.

  Uncontested Divorce

An uncontested divorce is a divorce in which the spouses involved agree on all issues surrounding the divorce, including property division and child custody, and hardly ever go to trial. There are many reasons why couples may decide to get divorced through an uncontested divorce, including the fact that getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce can help save money compared to getting a divorce through a contested divorce. Another benefit of getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce is that it can be faster than a contested divorce. In addition, getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce is less stressful than getting a divorce through a contested divorce because there are fewer arguments between the spouses. Uncontested divorces are usually completed in a shorter amount of time than a contested divorce because there is not as much back and forth on the issues being disputed. In general, there are fewer hassles involved in getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce than there are in getting a divorce through a contested divorce.

  Contested Divorce

A contested divorce refers to a divorce in which one or both spouses contest at least one aspect of the divorce, such as child custody, child support, spousal support, or property division. Couples who contest their divorce may do so because they can’t agree on one or more of these issues, or because they want to maximize their chances of receiving a favorable ruling from a judge. If spouses go through a contested divorce, they may have to appear in court to present their case in front of a judge. It is possible for contested divorces to take several months or even a few years to complete. It all depends on how much the spouses are contesting and the individual court system where the divorcing couple resides.

  Advantages of an uncontested divorce

- No third-party intervention: In an uncontested divorce, both spouses are able to decide their own terms of the divorce. There is no intervention from a neutral third party. This is one of the main advantages of an uncontested divorce. - Quicker divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce have a quicker divorce than those who go through a contested divorce. There is less paperwork, and there are fewer arguments between the spouses. - Less stressful divorce: Overall, divorce through an uncontested divorce is less stressful than divorce through a contested divorce. This is because there are less arguments between the spouses and less intervention from a third party. - Less expensive divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce typically spend less on their divorce than couples who go through a contested divorce. This is because there is less intervention from a third party and less money going toward legal fees.

  Disadvantages of an uncontested divorce

- Less likely to be granted: If spouses decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce, they may not be granted one. In fact, many uncontested divorces are ultimately contested because spouses don’t feel like they have a fair deal. - Fewer legal protections: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce have fewer legal protections than those who go through a contested divorce. This is because they have less protections against spouses who have malicious intent, such as one spouse trying to take advantage of the other. - Less detail in divorce terms: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce typically don’t get as detailed in their divorce terms as those who go through a contested divorce. This is because there is less back and forth between the spouses. As a result, couples who get an uncontested divorce may face a higher risk of having their divorce overturned in the future.

  Advantages of a contested divorce

- More likely to be granted: Couples who go through a contested divorce are more likely to be granted a divorce than those who get an uncontested divorce. This is because there is more back and forth between the spouses on their divorce terms and because there may be more evidence to support their divorce. - More legal protections: Couples who decide to get a divorce through a contested divorce have more legal protections than those who get an uncontested divorce. This is because they are more likely to get their divorce terms written in detail and because they have more protection against malicious spouses.

  Disadvantages of a contested divorce

- More expensive divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through a contested divorce usually spend more on their divorce than couples who get an uncontested divorce. This is because they spend more time arguing over the details of their divorce and because they have to hire a lawyer to help them through the divorce process.

  Conclusion

In the end, the best decision for a couple is the one that works best for them. While there are many advantages and disadvantages to each type of divorce, it ultimately comes down to what the couple finds most advantageous for their situation.

If you are considering a divorce, your should contact an experieced divorce attorney as early in your process as possible.  In the Phoenix area contact Colburn Hintze Maletta to schedule a case consultation.  Call (602) 932-2999.

[dailypress-news]

What is the Difference Between an Uncontested Divorce and a Contested Divorce in Arizona?

‍

Uncontested divorce and contested divorce are terms used to indicate how amicable couples are during the divorce process. An uncontested divorce means that both parties agree on all essential terms of their divorce, meaning they don’t have to contest anything. A contested divorce, on the other hand, refers to a scenario where both spouses cannot agree on at least one major aspect of their separation. In other words, there is contention over some element of the couple’s breakup. It is often recommended that couples with children or significant assets undergo a mediated settlement rather than going to trial. This process allows them to meet with a neutral third party mediator who helps them come up with an agreeable settlement outside court. The mediation process can also be helpful for couples who just want a simple exit from marriage instead of going through several months of litigation and paperwork.

  Uncontested Divorce

An uncontested divorce is a divorce in which the spouses involved agree on all issues surrounding the divorce, including property division and child custody, and hardly ever go to trial. There are many reasons why couples may decide to get divorced through an uncontested divorce, including the fact that getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce can help save money compared to getting a divorce through a contested divorce. Another benefit of getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce is that it can be faster than a contested divorce. In addition, getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce is less stressful than getting a divorce through a contested divorce because there are fewer arguments between the spouses. Uncontested divorces are usually completed in a shorter amount of time than a contested divorce because there is not as much back and forth on the issues being disputed. In general, there are fewer hassles involved in getting a divorce through an uncontested divorce than there are in getting a divorce through a contested divorce.

  Contested Divorce

A contested divorce refers to a divorce in which one or both spouses contest at least one aspect of the divorce, such as child custody, child support, spousal support, or property division. Couples who contest their divorce may do so because they can’t agree on one or more of these issues, or because they want to maximize their chances of receiving a favorable ruling from a judge. If spouses go through a contested divorce, they may have to appear in court to present their case in front of a judge. It is possible for contested divorces to take several months or even a few years to complete. It all depends on how much the spouses are contesting and the individual court system where the divorcing couple resides.

  Advantages of an uncontested divorce

- No third-party intervention: In an uncontested divorce, both spouses are able to decide their own terms of the divorce. There is no intervention from a neutral third party. This is one of the main advantages of an uncontested divorce. - Quicker divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce have a quicker divorce than those who go through a contested divorce. There is less paperwork, and there are fewer arguments between the spouses. - Less stressful divorce: Overall, divorce through an uncontested divorce is less stressful than divorce through a contested divorce. This is because there are less arguments between the spouses and less intervention from a third party. - Less expensive divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce typically spend less on their divorce than couples who go through a contested divorce. This is because there is less intervention from a third party and less money going toward legal fees.

  Disadvantages of an uncontested divorce

- Less likely to be granted: If spouses decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce, they may not be granted one. In fact, many uncontested divorces are ultimately contested because spouses don’t feel like they have a fair deal. - Fewer legal protections: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce have fewer legal protections than those who go through a contested divorce. This is because they have less protections against spouses who have malicious intent, such as one spouse trying to take advantage of the other. - Less detail in divorce terms: Couples who decide to get a divorce through an uncontested divorce typically don’t get as detailed in their divorce terms as those who go through a contested divorce. This is because there is less back and forth between the spouses. As a result, couples who get an uncontested divorce may face a higher risk of having their divorce overturned in the future.

  Advantages of a contested divorce

- More likely to be granted: Couples who go through a contested divorce are more likely to be granted a divorce than those who get an uncontested divorce. This is because there is more back and forth between the spouses on their divorce terms and because there may be more evidence to support their divorce. - More legal protections: Couples who decide to get a divorce through a contested divorce have more legal protections than those who get an uncontested divorce. This is because they are more likely to get their divorce terms written in detail and because they have more protection against malicious spouses.

  Disadvantages of a contested divorce

- More expensive divorce: Couples who decide to get a divorce through a contested divorce usually spend more on their divorce than couples who get an uncontested divorce. This is because they spend more time arguing over the details of their divorce and because they have to hire a lawyer to help them through the divorce process.

  Conclusion

In the end, the best decision for a couple is the one that works best for them. While there are many advantages and disadvantages to each type of divorce, it ultimately comes down to what the couple finds most advantageous for their situation.

If you are considering a divorce, your should contact an experieced divorce attorney as early in your process as possible.  In the Phoenix area contact Colburn Hintze Maletta to schedule a case consultation.  Call (602) 932-2999.

[kai-bobbi]

9/27 1) What did you buy for your Splurchase? 2) Briefly list some of the general conditions that that you remember from your Splurchase (these can be anything: your mood, the weather, the layout of the store, the music that was playing in the store, stuff you heard on the news, etc...) 3) Look at your item and list some of the Graphic and/or Design Qualities that stand out to you. 4) List some of the cultural meanings/associations related to the item and/or its design (these can be either personal or more broadly social). 5) How did any of the factors from any of the previous 3 questions impact your decisions to buy, if at all?

After almost buying something that felt less authentic to the purpose of the assignment I let my mind find when popped out to it on its own while I kept shopping. I turned a corner and right on the eye level on the corner of the shelf was individual cans of sweetened earl grey tea with the word Tea in a scripted bold font shouting at me. 2. I was in a rough mood. Depression hit and I was shopping out of need between classes, because I can't afford to keep buying take out. Aldi is always super bright. The music was annoyingly low and it was kinda more chilly in there than usual. Although I suppose fall and was kinda chilly outside, and the door does open quite a bit. I didn't go with the intent to do the assignment so I thought sneaking it in then wouldn't be problem. Surprise surprise, I need more time than I thought per usual. I should allotted time for overthinking. It's amazing how fast my brain still goes when it's in a state of depression. 3. Its colors are subtle. It's not super flashy. It really lets the text do the work of pulling you in. Under the big bolded word Tea is nice clean thin sans serif that says SWEETENED EARL GREY TEA. It's hanging back to let the pretty Tea shine. It's all about that text hierarchy. Under that was my favorite surprise. The box the cans were in just cut off the words BLOOD ORANGE in a dark orange bold sans serif font. I LOVE BLOOD ORANGE. Under that is the words naturally flavored all in lower case, still giving attention to Blood Orange the secondary focus (h2 if you will). Under that, we are back at it with yet another sans serif, yet this time No Sugar Zero Calories is all written with each work capitalized. Interesting how they are really switching up. All of this text is justified left aligning to the left of Tea. To the right and smidge lower is slice of blood orange resting on a leaf. Beautiful! On the top is the Zavia logo with two leaved sprouting out of the top of the I. It appears like the Z is slightly capitalized. The rest of the word is in lowercase and almost meets the height of the Z. Underneath in green caps is the word O R G A N I C, with double the kerning then anywhere else, stretching to fit under the logo as nicely. I never buy organic. I often think I can't afford. At the bottom is a couple emblems indicated this tea is organic, Non GMO and fair trade certified. indicated the volume of the beverage (12 FL OZ 9355 ml) in yet in sans serif. I believe these are all variations of the same one. The top of the can was black. Not all of them were. I wanted one in black or some reason. All of this design is duplicated slightly to the side as to wrap around and better promote itself. There is your standard box of nutritional facts, ingredients and a few tiny icons underneath, but all written in the same green that's in O R G A N I C . 4. Sadly my associations aren't culturally connected. I have with tea is really my last two ex partners. They looooved tea. I'm cool with the memories from my last ex but the tea connected memories with the previous ex are not so sweet. Although my last roommate and bestie Nate, would actually drink tea almost every day but just didn't make a big deal of on the daily. He would dork out about his selections which was cute and I'd play along and support his enthusiasm. I always hated tea growing up. It's one of those sophisticated drinks I found in my adulthood. Now I buy it in jugs. 5. The biggest things that got my gut motor running was the pretty Tea font, and the surprise that it were Blood Orange. Yum! The item just hit me authentically in a really refreshing way. My mind is tricky so to get it to see genuinely was as unexpected as it's flavor. Oddly, I didn't see the that it was on the HURRY discounted items shelves until after I saw it as a splurchase. It didn't take the wind out of my sails. I bought something special for just me!

[welcometogrouchland]

"aaaand he's right behind me, isn't he?" Is an overplayed joke but I think ppl are focusing too much on the joke out of context like. It's not the line itself that's the problem, I've seen this joke done well, the problem with this kind of overplayed quip is when assembly line blockbusters use it as a substitute for actual characterization and thought out jokes with set up and pay off.

Like I saw an article that described the Russo bros dialogue in their latest film as feeling like placeholders for funnier jokes meant to be added later, and that's very much what "and he's right behind me" is being used to represent in the recent wave of memes parodying it and movies that feature it- it's dialogue that could be funny in the right context but reads as annoying, insincere and overplayed because writers and directors employ it just as a way to

a) self parody in a way that creates distance between the film and the audience- which is distance from criticism, yes, but also distance that halts all investment and identification between the story and audience

and b) make their job easier at the cost of quality. Because "he's right behind me, isn't he?" Is a tried and true joke that doesn't tell us anything about the character saying it other than "they're meant to be funny and sarcastic and likeable" in the most generic sense of all those words

because a blandly likeable protagonist is easy to write, and they want things that are easy to write so they can put them on the assembly line. Which is frustrating but I do understand it's mostly a product of corporate monopoly and strangling studios. I'm sure most of these writers would like to make something better but just. Cannot be bothered to when the film is guaranteed money based on brand name clout alone AND they have to deal with execs who micromanage projects that fall under their 'brand'. Why write jokes that feel specific to the characters you've created, or engineer characters with comedy in mind? Thats too personal and gimmicky and high effort- slap a one-liner on them and now you've got the human equivalent of a palette cleanser when you flit between summer mega movies. Except every meal is a palette cleanser, and in the end, it tastes like nothing at all.