#It is interesting that she clearly does have more knowledge than the lay person about cultivators and night hunts (possibly from xxc?)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Peeped the horrors

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[midnightrings]

Writing Analysis: River Song (Part One: Silence of the Library/Forest of the Dead)

[Note: Some time ago, when I decided to rewatch Doctor Who to catch up (which has been a while ago, I keep getting distracted lmao) I’ve had the idea to pay some close attention to how River Song’s character arc and storyline evolve throughout the show. Mainly out of personal interest (and also because I’m still working on a River/Doctor multichapter fanfiction), I’ve started taking some notes during her appearances to somewhat analyse her character and writing.

I’ve always found her writing quite interesting because a) she was written out of order, and b) she only appeared in a handful of episodes/stories. Yet, I still completely fell in love with her character (and her relationship with the Doctor), never feeling like she or her arc were not fully developed.

I have not really shared many analyses/interpretations/etc. for a while now (mainly because I’m not that active in most fandom spaces anymore cause … well, they can be rather exhausting), though I always enjoy it and told myself I will start sharing them more often, just in case someone is interested in reading them. This will obviously be in several parts (that I have not finished yet, so I don’t know how long this will take). I will also keep it quite general throughout (so this won't be a deep dive analysis of her) as the focus lays more on how her character and relationship with the Doctor evolve, rather than trying to analyse every single frame. ]

River’s character

This two-parter introduces us to her character and we already learn quite a lot about her. The episodes show that she is clearly smart and intelligent - besides the fact that she is an archeology professor, she also shows technical knowledge and can easily follow the Doctor’s thoughts and instructions. She has a mind of her own and can be quite stubborn as well – not signing Lux’s agreement, not listening to the Doctor when she believes him to be in the wrong, taking charge herself. On top of that, she also displays a lot of compassion: she cares about her team’s wellbeing, obviously about the Doctor too, and later sacrifices herself to save everyone else. Essentially, she clearly shows a lot of character traits you would usually see in the Doctor’s companions, and perhaps even beyond that, as she appears equal to the Doctor in both, intelligence and agency.

“Funny thing is, this means you've always known how I was going to die. All the time we've been together, you knew I was coming here.”

This also introduces us to her theme of time (and time travel, obviously). She coins the term spoilers here, due to not being able to tell the Doctor anything about his future, despite his attempts to find out more. It also shows that she is responsible about time travel, as once she realizes the Doctor has never met her before, she tries to keep any possible spoilers to herself. She also prevents him from killing himself, keeping the timeline in tact (though this was probably majorly due to more selfish reasons, as she obviously did not want to eliminate their time together). This also makes her appear as rather mysterious, though I would not necessarily describe her as a generally secretive person, as she does not hide her emotions or thoughts as showcased by her conversations with and about the Doctor. She does not choose to be secretive, she simply has to be.

Relationship with the Doctor

“He hasn't met me yet. I sent him a message but it went wrong. It arrived too early. This is the Doctor in the days before he knew me. And he looks at me - he looks right through me - and it shouldn't kill me, but it does.”

The nature of their relationship (at least out of River’s perspective at this point) becomes pretty clear throughout the story. Messaging him via his psychic paper, the conversations (or, I’d rather say monologues) she has with her team and Donna in regards to the Doctor as well as her death speech show the close connection she has with him. The slight flirting (specifically in the beginning of the first episode, before she realizes he does not know her yet) also let’s us know exactly what type of connection that is, as well as her heartbreak upon realizing he has not met her before.

In this context, we also get the theme of trust. The Doctor is clearly wary of her, and when she uses a screwdriver (which a future version of the Doctor has given to her) – while it shows us even more how close they would be in the future – it makes him even more suspicious of her. This then prompts River to tell him his name in order for him to trust her. With his name representing such a huge secret and mystery, it is clear now that she is someone extremely special to him, and it becomes clear to the Doctor as well, turning his caution into trust (to some extent, at least). It also creates an interesting relationship between Ten and River for the rest of the episode, as – while he does not know her yet – he is aware that she will be important to him in the future, in the end saving her for his future self’s sake.

“Doctor, one day I'm going to be someone that you trust, completely. But I can't wait for you to find that out. So I'm going to prove it to you. And I'm sorry. I'm really very sorry.“

Of course, the theme of time plays an important role in their relationship here as well. River’s diary, which consists of their future together, becomes a symbol for their relationship, not just in this story, but throughout their episodes. River breaking the spoilers-rule by telling the Doctor that she knows his true name lays the aforementioned basis of trust they would not otherwise have. The screwdriver – though we won’t see it again until River’s last episode – also turns into another symbol, allowing the Doctor through his future self to save her, initially creating a paradox. And then, of course, her death: the Doctor, being forced to watch her die, before even knowing her, represents – despite the otherwise somewhat (twisted) happy ending – the tragedy of their relationship.

Mystery

Now, for a good part of her storyline, the mystery surrounding her character and her relationship with the Doctor is also a prominent theme. I’ve decided to make this a separate category instead of a continuous theme, as it obviously does not occupy her entire storyline but it is an interesting aspect to look at, and see how – in terms of writing – that mystery evolves.

At this point, the mystery consists of only one question: who is she in relation to the Doctor? Of course, River’s interactions with him throughout this two-parter, her final speech and the knowledge of his name strongly hint at the fact that she is in a romantic relationship with him (or will be in the future, out of his perspective). It is never completely revealed, of course but made as apparent as it could be without directly stating it. So the mystery at this point is more whether we will see her again and see her story with the Doctor unfold or not.

Misc. thoughts

I find it quite interesting that the term ‘spoilers’ was first used at the beginning of this story by the Doctor and Donna. While later on, it definitely becomes River’s term (almost like a catchphrase) and is primarily centered around their relationship, at this point it was clearly meant as a theme for the episode that they later reused for River’s entire arc.

General/Final thoughts

What I believe to be very interesting about this two-parter is that, obviously, no one knew whether River would return or not, and as such, she is written like a one-time character. Thankfully, she returned for future episodes, but the story did not need further episodes to back up her character arc. She has been created and written for this story and was as such an already fleshed-out character as we finish the two-parter. And I believe that this really helped her character writing. Had they already known she would return, I have no doubt she would’ve been left rather ambiguous, to allow to shape her character more as the story progresses and to create a bigger mystery (as is done later). Her character arc is already well rounded at this point, and all of the future storylines essentially simply add onto that and use this story as a basis for her character, basically functioning as an outline for her future story arc.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Nyx

Nyx is a primordial goddess and the Greek personification of Night - the mother of Hypnos, Thanatos, Nemesis, and many more. She's a mysterious figure in their mythos as there's little surviving info about her cult. What is known, however, is that she was portrayed as beautiful, powerful, and feared by Zeus himself.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares, Hestia, Nyx

Lucifer 

What happens when you take a being born from the darkness and place them in a realm of eternal night…?

The answer came when the MC first stepped out of the portal. Everyone in the room was wholly expecting a normal-looking, confused human they could get up to speed, however…

The MC's skin suddenly darkened until it was as black as a shadow, their clothes levitated around them as if they were defying gravity, and glimmering speckles dotted their skin like twinkling stars.

Even their eyes turned a pure, glowing white without irises or pupils… Like two crowning stars locked into a body made from the shimmering night sky...

They weren't human. At the time, Lucifer wasn't even sure he could say what they were... Breathtaking, certainly, but there was something else about them that he couldn't place… something… foreboding...

Diavolo must have had the same unease because Barbatos was put in charge of monitoring them. The butler would send reports to them both and the results would range from benign to nerve-racking...

They kept their distance from his brothers and most people, but their power seemed immense... Barbs would report seeing them making small items float or summoning a meteor shower from their fingertips!

Lucifer ended up actually tasting their powers only once. When they stepped in to protect Beel and Luke and he went to attack them…

The whole House began to shake and the candles of the tomb started going out one by one as the air grew intolerably heavy... He could have sworn he saw a vortex of… something... swirling at their feet...

He backed off immediately and Beel and Luke got off with a warning, mostly because he was trying not to look utterly petrified...

He's never met a more beautiful and dangerous creature in his life… Pact mark or no, this is probably the only person the firstborn will admit he never wants to have to fight because he'd lose, big time.

Mammon

He was expecting to find a human when he walked into the Student Council room, not an alien!!

Mammon was seriously scared of the MC when they first met because he legitimately believed they were an extraterrestrial sent to probe him!!... Or whatever else those scary movies say aliens do, lay eggs in his stomach?

He straight up avoided them like the plague until the Goldie incident more or less bound them together. But even then there was a distance between them he just couldn't place…

Naturally, it bothers a demon a bit if their master doesn't seem to like them, so he eventually cornered them one day to force them to tell him why they'd been running off!

As it turned out, the MC actually knew as little about their new form everybody else! They had been perfectly normal in the human world, but for some reason the Devildom supercharged them! They could tell that they were powerful, but had no idea how to control themselves yet and it scared them...

So Mammon became their first unofficial "coach." Not that he knew how to train them or anything, but he was the first person supportive enough to even try to help them learn their new powers.

It led to some… interesting misadventures. Like when the MC unexpectedly burst every water pipe in the House or when they got a little too frustrated and ripped the kitchen apart with an accidental twister, but hey, Mammon was always there for them at least.

Of course, because he's who he is, he's not above asking the MC to help him with his schemes for "training purposes…" Infiltration is more fun if you're weightless, after all!

Speaking of weightless… His favorite way to float is when the MC gets excited and hugs him. They can't help but levitate them both off the ground when they're that happy and it makes the whole hug that much sweeter.

Leviathan 

It's… it's like he's in his very own Magical Girl anime!!! Uh, "I'm a Demon and this is My New Life with a Magic Starchild!!"-or something like that. 🤷‍♀️

He didn't even think their transformation was real when he first saw it! He really thought it was an elaborate body art cosplay but then their "freckles" rearranged themselves when he frightened them, so it had to be real!!

He'll declare that they're probably (literally) the coolest thing on the planet. They have the looks of an epic fantasy character plus insane powers to boot! 

…though uh… they may need a training arc or two to learn how to control them… 😅

Since their powers are apparently tied to their emotions, Levi's seen them do a whole bunch of stuff that's not entirely on purpose... Like, they can make things float when they're happy and push everything down when they're sad. 

So once he showed them one of those "tragic ending" animes for fun, but they cried so hard that they increased gravity and accidentally sent his bathtub crashing into the basement…

The worst of it is when they're mad, though. He made the mistake of making them play a rage game once and they ended up shattering all the glass in his room! His aquarium wall and Henry's fishtank included!!

They were able to make a zero G sphere of water in order to save Henry's life, but the cleanup was brutal… They were super sorry, but Levi took most of the blame himself anyway.

Honestly, he'd have been more mad but their body is clearly not something they can control just yet. Plus, it's so cool that he can put up with a little destruction anyway, you know?

Satan

Well, isn't that an interesting phenomenon?

Meeting a demigod is exciting enough, but one who reacted to the Devildom like that? It was pretty much unheard of!

Though he'd hate to admit it, Satan stalked the MC just as closely as Barbatos for a little while... But only because he was a little unsure of how to approach them…

They kept to themselves and their powers seemed "a little" unpredictable (see Levi's orphaned bathtub). Thankfully, Mammon ended up recommending the MC to him since Satan's one of the smartest guys around.

Satan made a better coach than Mammon, anyway. He was far more knowledgeable and actually able to hypothesize the strength their powers, which came in handy because uh… well…

Look. The whole realm 'ooohs' and 'ahhhs' over their appearance but they're all fools - no morons - for not noticing what potential the MC actually has. Satan was positive that the MC is the most powerful being in the Devildom, without question.

They had a complete control over gravity, atmospheric pressure, and even astronomical bodies… If they wanted to, they could literally pluck a planet out of orbit and send it careening into who knows what!

Want more terrifying? They could create near-matterless vacuums at the palms of their hands with the potential to suffocate, crush, or rip apart basically anything they wanted with implosive force….

Does he even need to spell out why that's utterly horrifying??

At least the MC seemed to be a genuinely nice person who wanted to control their powers better… Their emotions often got in the way but they tried their best.

He likes the MC a lot, but he'd be lying if he said that they didn’t also terrify him… They may have been pretty normal in the human world, but give them endless night and they may as well be a god...

Asmodeus 

Oh… My… Father!!! They're GORGEOUS!!!!

From the moment their transformation completed, Asmo had never seen anything like them! He said that they were like a living droplet of the night sky!

They were magnificent!! They were radiant!!! He was posting pictures of them before they had even said their first sentence!!

So Asmo was pretty much patient zero for any and all rumors and hype about the MC after that... Apparently someone like them only visits the Devildom every one, maybe two, centuries so everybody was bound to get talking.

Thankfully, the MC's habit of ducking out of the House kept them from becoming a full on sideshow. Unfortunately, however, Asmodeus was relentless!

He'd beg them to try modeling or make videos with him because of their unique look! He'd lay on the praises, but it was a little... much. It wasn't until Mammon finally stepped that he backed off a bit.

Asmo sometimes forgets that not everyone puts as much emphasis on looks as he does... Though he meant well, he hadn't realized that the MC maybe wouldn't appreciate him making such a big deal out of their appearance change. Pretty as it was, it was still involuntary to them...

Of course, after they told him this he cooled off and stopped putting them out there so publicly but even still he could hardly keep his eyes off of them... unless he was looking in a mirror, of course. 😘

A fun fact about the MC: when they blush, their skin makes a pink nebula. And thanks to his antics, Asmo has seen their lively pink cheeks many, many times… 🤭

Beelzebub 

Belphie would like them, wouldn't he...?

Beel's first reaction upon seeing the MC was genuine sadness, as seeing the stars with his twin brother still gone often brought him… 

The sadness didn't last too long at least because Beel tried his best to see the MC more like a person than a work of art or an oddity. Sure, they looked different - like really different - but they still laughed, cried, and ate like everybody else so they couldn't be that different.

Though then again, most people don't end up floating in midair when they laugh… Eh, oh well. It's not like those little details bother him. 🤷‍♀️

He always remained certain that Belphie would like the MC so he told them a lot about him. Since his twin loved stargazing, it'd only be natural that he'd like someone who looked like the stars, right?

Aside from the occasional tangent about his brother, Beel would also help the MC with their training by letting them help him with his training!

Controlling gravity can be pretty nifty for strength/resistance exercises, so there would be days where Beel would just pull a Dragon Ball and walk around at 1.5 or 2 times Earth's gravity thanks to having the MC on his back!

Sure, lifting a glass of milk becane so difficult that he literally broke a sweat from trying, but he felt like he can juggle motorcycles afterwards so who's complaining? Not him!

Belphegor 

……

………….

Was it some kind of joke?

The MC was not human. There was no way in heaven or hell that whatever he lured to the attic was supposed to be a human!!

Really, everything about the MC and their situation seemed directly designed to throw a monkey wrench into his plans...

One: They weren't human so how was he supposed to ruin Diavolo's dream? Two: They were clearly some kind of magical being so they could likely defend themselves…

But third ans most embarrassing of all... he honestly, genuinely, has never seen a more amazing person in his life. Blame it on his soft spot for the stars, but the moment the MC step up to his prison bars, he was smitten...

And. He. HATED IT!

Look, as much as he loved the night sky, he wasn't about to let some random non-human derail his anger! He was stronger than that!

He managed to hold onto his bitterness just long enough to make a halfhearted attempt on their life after they got the door open, but uh…

His brothers found Belphie when he fell through a newly-made hole in the ceiling... Said hole was made when his body slammed to the ground hard enough to crash through the attic floor... 😣

If the damage they caused wasn't enough to change his mind (which it was), then their distress when they thought they might have hurt him certainly did. Even their tears looked like stardust...

After far too long, Belphie got over his denial and began to properly love MC. If he liked stargazing before, he adored it now because he never even has to get out of bed! He can just roll over and follow the "stars" on the MC's body!

Unfortunately, that same love means it also takes a lot to ditch him if they get sick of being his personal night's sky… The brothers have found him floated up and sleeping on the ceiling on numerous occasions so the mortal can get some fresh air (clever MC)...

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 7

4400 words later, here we are! 

Summary: Memories.  

Notes: This is just to give you an idea on the reader’s past!  Obviously, it doesn’t include every single moment Loki and the Reader have spent together.  I’d have a lot to write.  But this gives you an idea of how it all started. They’re so cute together!  I’ll include more about their story later on, I think, but for now... Here’s the origin. 

Masterlist

“Who are you? And why does the Allfather want you here of all places?” Loki, one of the princes, asked, watching you browse the library. You had just come into the palace for the first time a week ago. The library was one of the many rooms you hadn’t explored yet.

“He noticed that Frigga and I have been meeting constantly, researching together, and he wanted to know what I knew about it. He wanted to learn more.”

“Learn more? Doesn’t he know everything?” He sat down, continuing to watch you gaze at the books.

“Not everything,” A sly smile was on your lips. “There are many things he doesn’t know of yet. Worlds that he has yet to explore and magic he’s yet to seen or experience. Frigga and I are hoping to introduce him to this new knowledge. Once we figure it out too, of course.” You pulled out one book, its cover worn and torn from old age. You sat down next to Loki, flipping through the pages.

“Interesting. You never told me your name though. How do you know my mother so personally that you’re on a first-name basis with her?” He asked.

You froze momentarily, trying to come up with an answer. “Let’s just say she’s a close friend of mine. We met a while ago and that’s about the extent of all that I can say right now. It’s a secret,” You placed a finger on your lips, winking at him. “The name’s Y/N, by the way. You’re Loki, right?”

“Yes, that’s my name. How did you know? You don’t look like anyone else here given your,” He looked down at your outfit, “Clothing of choice.”

“Your mother talks about you a lot. She cares about you very much and I’ve heard a lot. She thinks that I don’t listen to her but she’s told me many stories about you and your brother.”

“Hopefully nothing too humiliating, I’ll assume,” He said, smiling sheepishly.

“Nothing of the sorts, I promise you.”

~

“Do you just hang out here every day? Don’t you have princely duties to do or something?” You teased him, walking into the library. It seemed like you ran into him every time you went for a book in the room.

“Not every day, but most of the time to avoid my brother,” He shrugged. “No one ever notices when I’m gone anyway,” He muttered under his breath. He began following you down the aisles of books.

“Clearly I notice when you’re gone if I noted that you’re here all the time,” You said, grabbing a book from one of the many shelves. Loki was standing nearby, leaning against a pillar. “Can I help you?” You asked.

“Just figured I’d follow, in case you needed something from the top shelf, darling.” He grinned.

“I’m more than capable of grabbing a book on my own, thank you very much, prince,” You rolled your eyes playfully at the man, who only grimaced when you said that.

“Oh, don’t call me that. Mother used to call me that every time I was being improper and now it only gives me traumatic memories.” He said, trying to hold back a small laugh.

“Oh yeah? Well, perhaps I’ll only use it when you accuse me of being too short to grab a book. Besides, I don’t need my height to help me get something from a high shelf, I could always use-” You stopped short, unsure of whether or not you could tell Loki. Frigga always told you to try and keep it a secret from as many people as possible.

“Use what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Use a step stool,” You said slowly, knowing it didn’t sound believable at all.

“A step stool?”

“Absolutely! Those things are very helpful, even for taller people! You don’t want to hurt your shoulder by stretching it, right?”

“I can’t think of a single time where I hurt it that way, but if it helps you sleep better at night, we’ll say that for now.”

You smiled at the man, who smirked at your reaction. He knew you knew that there was no saving this one. “So what were you going to say before you tried to lie?”

“Would Frigga be mad if I told her son about what’s going on with me? Probably not, but I’m not telling you in case she does,” You said, shaking your head at the god. He frowned, before the smirk returned on his face once again.

“You’re far more interesting than I thought you would be.”

“You once thought I was dull?”

“Oh, absolutely. Most people here are. But you won’t even tell me what’s going on between you and my mother. I can’t say that I’m not intrigued.”

You looked at the shelf before you, keeping your eyes off of Loki on purpose. You grabbed a red book from one of the shelves, clutching it close to your chest. “Looks like I have what I need. I’ll see you later, prince.”

“Didn’t you need something from the top shelf?”

You continued to walk away, refusing to look back at him. You bit back a remark. “I never said I needed one from the top shelf, you did. Besides, if I need one I’ll go find a stepstool first.”

~

The next time you entered the library would be quiet. You looked around the large room. The chairs were pushed into the tables, the small oil lamps were off. Curtains were pulled back, allowing the daylight to seep in, but not so much that they reached the books.

You breathed a sigh of relief, being unable to find Loki. It’s not that you didn’t like him, but you didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now. Frigga exhausted you of your energy during your session today. She wanted to see the full extent of what you could do and all you wanted to do was sleep.

Unfortunately, you had to grab a book on light magic before you could go to your room. Frigga requested you to grab it before you slept, and besides, it would’ve been a far journey after sleeping to go all the way back to the library. It was easier to catch it on the way back.

You walked down the aisles, scanning for the book. It was a large one, the size of a dictionary. It couldn’t be hard to miss. Of course, though, it was on one of the higher shelves.

You groaned outwardly and stepped onto one of the ledges. It gave you enough height to reach the book at least. Easily pulling the black book out, you cheered while stepping off the ledge. Unfortunately, not everything could be as easy as pulling a book out.

A book that was next to the one you wanted slid out because of the opening next to it, falling off the shelf. Before it could hit the floor you held your hand out. It stopped two inches off the ground. You breathed a sigh of relief, before moving your hand up. The book began to move along with your hand, swiftly being placed with the other books.

You lowered your hand, exhaustion really hitting you now. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you wasted energy this entire afternoon on practicing, you used up even more just so that the book wouldn’t crash on the floor. No one was even there, it’s not like it would’ve disturbed anyone.

Or so you hoped.

“What are you?” A voice made you jump. You turned around to see the one man you constantly see in the library. Loki.

“What do you mean?” You asked, rolling your eyes slightly. You weren’t in the mood to tolerate his attitude.

“The way you lifted that book without laying a finger on it. Any magic user would leave some kind of residue on it, whether it’s visible to the naked eye or just something another user can sense. You had neither,” He commented, walking up to you.

“What do you want me to say, Loki?”

“I want you to tell me who you are.”

“Do you promise not to tell anyone else?”

“Cross my heart.”

~

“The Phoenix Force, you say? I’ve only read about it in fairy tales. It’s not supposed to be real.” The two of you were now sitting in a separate section of the library. It was a study room, completely empty, meant only for the royals. You sat across from Loki, who watched you in amazement.

“It’s as real as you and I, clearly. I didn’t exactly have these powers ten years ago. I don’t even remember how I got them.”

“The Phoenix Force is said to only show itself to those who are near death. Perhaps you nearly died once and you suppressed the trauma.”

“Maybe. Either way, that’s why Frigga and I have been working closely together. They couldn’t help me where I’m from. Frigga says that word had spread around that the Phoenix Force made an appearance, which led her to me. She was the only one who would even approach me.”

“Why?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I didn’t have any control over it. Everyone feared me because of it. When Frigga walked up to me I just assumed she was the only one brave enough to end me right there. She used her own magic to protect herself because I kept flinging objects left and right, turning them from glass to gold.” You shook your head, trying to get the awful images out of your head.

“Is that why you won’t tell anyone? You’re afraid of how they will react?”

“Since when were you a therapist?” You scoffed.

“Since I found out you’re more powerful than you look.”

“Careful now, prince. I���ll start thinking you just want to use me. We both know the Phoenix is a lot stronger than a lot of magic when it’s controlled.”

“Then I challenge you to a duel.”

“What?!”

“Clearly you underestimate what I’m able to do, and I’m interested in what you can do now. Let’s have a duel. May the best man, or woman, win.”

“What if your mother finds out?”

“With Thor’s coronation coming up, she’ll be far too distracted to worry.”

~

The two of you met out in one of the gardens. No one was around. The trees were much larger than you thought at first, easily towering over anything nearby. They created enough shade that shielded you away from the blistering sun. The grass beneath your feet was still warm, gently brushing against your ankles.

On any other day you would consider this a beautiful day. Today, you dreaded the gardens. Loki planned for the duel to happen today, only two days after you told him about your powers. He was waiting very impatiently for this day. A part of him simply wanted to test your powers, but another part, you knew, was to try and prove himself.

You hadn’t known him for long, but the conversations the two of you shared were enough to tell you what he was like. He was kind when he wanted to be, but he was slowly being corrupted by the favoritism that lurked within the royal family. Anyone could see that Thor was favored, but not everyone could see how much it affected the younger brother.

Whenever the two of you spoke about Odin, venom would lace his voice. When he spoke of Thor or Frigga, it would be replaced with love and admiration. It was clear he loved his family... Well, except for his father.

If you ever started talking about Odin with him you would find a reason to change the subject. You liked when he talked about anything else. He had a passion for reading, learning about various cultures or magic. The first time you asked you could see his eyes light up. It was clear that he was used to being ignored by everyone.

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” His voice broke you out of your thoughts. You looked at him, noticing that he had his Asgardian armor on.

“It is. I can see why you chose this place now. Is this where you go when you’re not in the library?”

“Sometimes. It’s the perfect place to get away from everyone. Not many people venture this far for a garden. Most of the other gardens are much closer to the castle.”

“Which is why no one will be able to see us having it out as well,” You deduced.

“Precisely. Now, are you ready?” He grinned.

“I was born ready.”

The battle quickly began with Loki running to hide behind a tree. You followed him quickly, looking behind the tree he just went to. He wasn’t there, leading you to back yourself up against the tree, scanning the area for him. You spotted him only a few yards away, grinning at you.

Something felt off about it, so you cautiously walked up to him. He sent a blast of energy at you before teleporting once again. You dodged it, sending you somersaulting away. Before you could get up, you felt a kick send you into a tree.

Almost as if it was an instinct, you lifted your hand, sending a cosmic flame at him. His eyes widened as he quickly backed away from the heat. It was too intense for him, but it was clear it meant nothing for you. “Pyrokinesis, hm? Interesting.”

The flame died out and you could feel the amount of energy you lost. The adrenaline rush was enough to make you stand up though, backing up a little to create some more space between the two of you. He pulled out his blades, watching you carefully.

He threw one of the daggers at you, barely missing your shoulder. Your eyes widened as you tried to figure out your next move. You didn’t have a lot of time though since it was likely he would throw the next one immediately after.

Sure enough another dagger was thrown by you. You jumped back in fear, the dagger skimming past your arm. A small cut appeared, blood beginning to form on top of your skin. Glancing down at it was your big mistake as he took advantage of that.

Grabbing you by the wrists he slammed you up against the trees. Because you were too shocked from the action and too weakened by what you had done earlier, you were practically powerless in this situation. His eyes flickered from your eyes to one of your wrists. “You’re hot,” He commented.

“Well, I’m flattered, but I already knew that,” You said sarcastically. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Asgardians don’t use that word? Oh, nevermind I’ll explain it later. But yes, I’m hot. I always am anymore since I’ve gotten this power.”

“It makes sense. What’s concerning is what you would do if you had to face an Asgardian summer. I fear you’ll burn to a crisp,” He joked. Loosening his grip on your wrists, he backed off.

“Well let’s hope that doesn’t happen. I quite like living,”

He laughed lightly before turning serious. “Your technique needs improvement and it’s clear that you need to train more with the Phoenix. You show potential though. I can see why my mother is meeting with you about it so much.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping she’s able to help me with that. It seems like it’s uncontrollable at times. It just wears me out if I use it too much.”

“That’s expected. You said you’ve had it for less than a decade, correct? No one would expect you to be a master at it yet.”

“Keep in mind that ten years is like a week for me,” You mentioned.

“Even in human years, that’s not long at all for your special case. You need a better understanding of what the Phoenix Force is before you can master it. Fortunately for you, I know exactly where we can learn more.”

~

The weeks went by and you spent more and more time with Loki. You bonded with him more than you thought you would. He was a good person, just closed-off because of how he was brought up. He wasn’t used to being someone’s main focal point. Odin had always pitted him and Thor against one another, so to be able to relax with someone without worrying about his father was... Different. It was new.

Which brought him to this exact moment.

“Will you come to the coronation with me?” He asked, closing the book he had open in the library. It made you jump because it had been so quiet for so long.

“What?”

“Come to the coronation with me.”

“As your date? Aw, Prince Loki, I’m honored!”

“Date?” He questioned.

“Oh for the love of- It’s another thing from Earth that you won’t understand. But wouldn’t that give a different message for everyone if I walked in with you?”

“Perhaps it will. Would there be a problem with that though?” He asked, almost innocently. He knew exactly what he was doing. He needed you to agree to it though. With the planned attack for the coronation, as long as he knows you’re close by he can ensure your safety as well as his mother’s.

“No, not at all. I would love to join you,” You smiled. He smiled back at you sweetly.

“I’m sure you will enjoy it. You’ve never seen an Asgardian celebration. Now that is something that will truly be a blast.”

“And how else would I see it unless I’m standing next to one of the royals? I’m not going to know anyone there though. I hardly ever have a chance to talk to Thor on a normal day!”

“You need not worry about that, Y/N. I’ll make sure you enjoy your time and you get to meet some of the nobles. Most of them are quite dull though so I warn you now they may convince you that these celebrations are actually a bore.”

“What ever would I do without my prince in shining Asgardian armor?” You smirked and rolled your eyes.

“Have an even duller time at the party,” He remarked.

~

Loki had been in his room all day. You weren’t sure if you should knock on his door or not. It hurt to not see him today, but whether it was Thor’s banishment or the stress of Odin falling into Odinsleep, it had brought Loki to lock himself in his room. Even Frigga, who stayed by Odin’s side 24/7 anymore, worried for her son. She worried so much that she actually came to find you.

“Y/N? May I ask for a favor from you?” She asked, smiling softly. You were in one of the abandoned halls of the palace, practicing levitating large objects.

“Yes, of course. What can I help you with?” You asked, worried about her. If this was something so big that she left Odin’s side then it’s something you would help her with immediately.  

"It's about Loki.  I know you two grew rather close these past few weeks and I'm happy about that, truly.  He needed someone to be there for him, especially with everything that has been going on.  But recently he found out about something new and that's why you haven't seen him as much.  I know you may have been thinking that he was hiding because he is required by the Asgardian law to take up the throne now, but it really isn't.  He needs someone, needs you to talk to him.  Can you please check on him?" She asked politely.

"Frigga, you know I would love to, but what if he just needs to be alone?  Maybe he doesn't want to see me.  Maybe this is something he needs to do by himself."

"Trust me, dear, he doesn't want to do it alone.  I know my son and this is not something he wants to face alone.  He wants you to ask him about it."

You thought about the choices you had here.  You had considered asking him about it anyway, but now that Frigga was asking you to do it too... How could you say no?  You looked up at her and nodded.  "I'll check on him."  

Her smile grew and she thanked you, leaving the hallway.  A small echo could be heard as the door shut.  You groaned, flicking one of the objects up, letting it crash onto the floor.  How were you going to approach him?

~

You made your way to the door, standing in front of it for a few seconds before you even knocked.  You spent five minutes finding your way to his chambers, trying to figure out what you could possibly say to him.  How could you figure that out though?  You don't even know what's wrong.  

"Who is it?" His muffled voice came through the door.  

"It's Y/N.  What's going on, Loki?" You asked.  IT was one of the rare times you had actually called him by his name.  You always called him "Prince" to annoy him.  The fact that you're not doing it now alerted him that he should really be serious about this.  

He opened the door, letting you see him for the first time today.  His eyes were bloodshot and a little puffy, but other than that he looked fine.  With a simple illusion he would've been able to fool anyone into thinking that he was okay.  "Come in," He said, opening the door even more to allow you to walk in.

He shut the door behind you, sitting down on the bed.  You took a place next to him.  "Do you want to talk about it?"

Loki took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start.  "Have you ever discovered that no matter how hard you try to be accepted you'll never truly fit in with everyone else?" He asked.

It was a rhetorical question.  You knew him well enough now to know that much.  

"That's how I feel right now.  I knew that I never had a chance for the throne against Thor, but I finally know why.  I thought that maybe it was because he was the older brother, or perhaps it was because Odin always liked Thor better.  But now knowing, now truly knowing what the reason was..." He drifted off, fighting back new tears.  You placed a hand on his back, rubbing in circles.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," You warned him.  He shook his head.  You remained silent after that.

"I was raised to always believe that frost giants were monsters.  Asgardians fear them, and what we fear we fight.  We kill them, keep them in their place at all times.  That's what Odin did to me because he never told me that I was one of them." He raised his hand, watching it turn blue.  

You gasped unintentionally, watching his pale skin turn blue, markings beginning to rise.  You watched as it took his entire body, his eyes turning red.  He stared at you, watching your every movement with sadness.  He knew that if Asgardians feared what he was, then so would you.  

He wasn't expecting your next reaction.

"So what?"

His eyes widened and he blinked in shock.  "What do you mean?" He asked nervously.

"So what if you're a frost giant?  You're still Loki to me.  You're still that arrogant, annoying prince to me.  You just look different this way."

"But-" He tried forming words, but for once he didn't have anything to say in response, "But I'm a monster."

"Yeah, sure you are.  To everyone else, maybe.  But to me you're just the prince who I consider my only friend in this place.  No one else talks to me willingly.  I try to come up with conversations with them, but you're the only one who actually wants to talk to me.  You've helped me through training sessions, reading, studying, and coronation parties and I don't think a monster could do that.  So in my eyes, you're not a monster."

"Besides," You decided to continue.  "I'm a monster too, so that makes two of us here."

"What do you mean you're a monster?" He asked, confusion littered across his face.  He seemed almost hurt by the idea of you believing you're a monster.

"Everyone around me feared me because of my powers.  I couldn't go anywhere without them cowering away or trying to kill me.  So trust me, I know exactly how that feels.  It hurts.  It hurts like hell to be treated like a monster, but Loki you are not one to me.  I know you're not one to your mother either." You took one of his hands in yours, squeezing lightly.  He was surprised you were able to.

"How are you doing that?" He asked.

"Doing what?"

"Holding my hand," He responded.  "Frost giants' skin is supposed to be so cold that it can harm anyone who touches them."

"I think you forgot that the Phoenix makes me a lot hotter than other people.  It looks like we balance it out that way," You smiled.  "Do I feel hot?"

He focused on your joined hands, taking his thumb and rubbing your knuckles in circles much like you did with his back.  "No, not at all."

"See?  We may be exact opposites but that works in our favor for once.  Opposites attract, clearly," You laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

He smiled, his eyes turning back to their normal shade of green.  His skin turned back into its regular pale complexion.  He could feel your hand become hotter, or at least it felt like it became hotter as he went back to his normal form.  "Thank you, Y/N."

"Of course, Loki.  We'll be monsters together.  Complete opposites, but that's what helps us stick together," You grinned.  He pulled you into a hug suddenly, taking you by surprise.  His arms locked you in place, holding you close to him tightly.  You wrapped your arms around him, enjoying the feeling.  

"Thank you, darling."

You may not have been able to help him through much, but this was something you could do.  His lust for power and his fear would corrupt him later on, but for just this moment in time you could make him feel safe and loved.

And he loved it.  

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Next on Reality Check: 

The Reader is checked on and interrogated by S.W.O.R.D.  After discovering who Geraldine really is, the team discusses a plan for getting back into Westview.  With a mission to snap Wanda out of it, the team also discusses the identities of everyone in town.  The only two who didn’t have ID’s were Scott and Agnes.  Who were they? 

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@emberfulclass @momoneymolife @high-priestesss @hailey-the-heathen @mochminnie @dpaccione @intricate-melody @lindseyrae20 @storminateacup15 @ilovemollyweasley @bookgirlunicorn @chims-kookies @austynparksandpizza @yikesdameron @littleladdty @three-eyed-snail @kymera-casterwill @justsomerandompersonintheworld @followthepastelcloud @11mb0 @carolinesbookworld @from-hel-i-with-love @grimalkynslee @boywivlove @prettysbliss @youreobsessedwithmarvel @th3gl1tt3gram3roff1c1al @luthien-t @lokilove3000 @treblebeth @weclassygirl @justfangirlingaround @drpepperobsessed @how-does-this-work @prideofnewberk @matterdontminduntildone @brynthebulldozer @shittyfuckinweeb

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 287: Family Reunion

Previously on BnHA: The Tomura For One VS Deku And Pals clusterfuck reached new levels of clustfuckery as AFO possessed Tomura’s body and stabbed Kacchan and Endeavor. Shouto was all “good thing I leveled up offscreen so as to be able to fly around whilst carrying 400lbs worth of people”, and did just that and it was like, damn, son. Meanwhile Deku’s rage went Mach 100, and he kicked Tomura’s ass for almost two whole seconds, but in the process he apparently forgot that IF TOMURA TOUCHES HIM THAT IS VERY BAD, and so he stupidly let Tomura touch him and Tomura was all “GAME, SET.” Fortunately for Deku, his quirk plays by its own rules, and so the chapter ended with us cutting to the METAPHYSICAL OFA/AFO PARANORMAL DREAMSCAPE OF MYSTICAL BULLSHIT, where AFO!Vestige was all “lol Tomura y u mad”, and Nana!Vestige was all “SUP DEKU, YOU’RE JUST IN TIME, LOOKS LIKE IT’S ASSKICKING O’CLOCK.” I’m paraphrasing a bit, but that’s more or less the gist of it.

Today on BnHA: AFO is all “well if it isn’t Tomura’s grandmother who I murdered that one time”, and Deku is all “?”, and AFO is all “fucking vestiges, man, wild”, and Deku is all “??”, and AFO is all “ANYWAYS GETTIM TOMURA”, and OFA is all “NOT SO FAST”, and Deku is all “???”, and really, same. AFO then goes off on some wild tangent about how Deku is unworthy because he couldn’t protect everyone and needed help from OFA and got mad about his friends being stabbed, which is such a cold take it gave me hypothermia, but it ends up not mattering since Deku and Tomura both wake up seconds later with OFA still in the possession of its rightful owner, HOW ABOUT THAT. The chapter ends with the LoV approaching on Gigantomachia’s back with Dabi practically salivating at the mouth, and Toga trying to reignite an old fandom blood feud. Toga why would you do this to me. Toga.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

[CROWD LOSING THEIR MINDS] FINALLY THE NANA HAS COME BACK TO BNHA!! IF YA SMELLLLL WHAT THE NANA IS COOKIN!!!!! [RINGSIDE BELL CHIMING WILDLY] [LOUD AIRHORN NOISES]

“chapter 287: mistake” omg. yeah I’ll say you made a mistake, AFO. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THESE FLEETING LAST MOMENTS OF YOUR SHITTY EVIL LIFE

(ETA: so in all seriousness this must be referring to AFO’s belief that All Might/OFA made a mistake in choosing Deku, right? “I can’t believe you went and chose this shounen manga protagonist as your champion, what were you thinking.” I’ll just put this out there: however many comic books AFO read as a child, it clearly was not enough.)

wow Deku how slow are you

yes you’re inside OFA you dimbulb, did you think your clothes suddenly vanished out of the blue and the ghost of Nana just randomly appeared in the real world by some freak coincidence?? can you believe this kid. breaks his arms a measly 10-15 times in a row and all of a sudden he can’t think straight, get it together Deku

but also brb having a moment at the fact that his thoughts immediately run back to Kacchan, even with all of this nonsense going on and Nana about to lay the beatdown on AFO’s potato-lookin’ ass. forget that noise, all he wants to know is whether or not Kacchan is all right. fuckin’ geez. AM I OVERREACTING HERE A BIT. probably

(ETA: ALSO!! the way he just trails off!! “Kacchan is...” and then he can’t bring himself to complete the thought. oh my god my heart.)

HOLY SHIT

okay,

damn but this man sure knows how to ruffle my feathers. as eminently detestable as ever!!

could it be any clearer here that AFO is not on Tomura’s side?? for a moment I thought he had actually grabbed him by the back of the head in order to get him to look. but nope, he’s just resting his pointing hand on top of his head instead while he’s all “HEY TOMURA LOL IT’S THE GHOST OF YOUR DEAD PATHETIC GRANDMA”

for those keeping track at home, this would be the first time that Deku has heard this information -- that Tomura is Nana’s grandson -- and possibly the first time Vestige!Nana has heard it as well. Nana died when Kotarou was still a child, so for all we know the Vestige!Nana didn’t even know she had a grandson, lol. TODAY ON “MAKESTE RANTS AT LENGTH ABOUT THINGS THAT WILL PROBABLY BE ADDRESSED WITHIN THE NEXT THREE PANELS”, anyway moving on

lmao for the record I fucking LOLed at this giant question mark immediately bubbling up over Deku’s head

no idea what AFO is about to ramble on about now, haven’t read that far yet. but let the record show that Deku’s immediate reaction to hearing “BTW NANA IS YOUR ARCHNEMESIS’S GRANDMA LULZ” is everything I could have hoped for

(ETA: fandom nailed the shit out of this one with the confused Mr. Krabs meme lmao.)

okay so now AFO is monologuing at length about how he would sometimes have “riveting dreams” about the previous owners of all the quirks he stole. but once he gave the quirks away they stopped bothering him?? holy moly let me just take all the notes

okay so he’s saying that Vestiges are created whenever someone has their quirk stolen by AFO. but if they then disappear when he gives the quirks away, does that also mean that whoever receives the quirks also gets the original owner’s Vestige bundled in every time?? that would be wild okay hold up let me read the rest of this

so he’s saying that the Vestiges are actually the “consciousnesses” of the original quirk owners, which have become embedded in their dna or something. SOUNDS INCREDIBLY DUBIOUS TO ME LOL but on the other hand this is a world where children can be born with airplane heads, so my disbelief can hardly afford to pick and choose what it’s gonna be suspended at! anyways though, how does he know he’s the only one who was able to converse with them? did you conduct detailed six-month follow-up interviews with everyone you gave quirks to or what

and if it really is the case that this ability was formerly exclusive to him, isn’t that more evidence than ever that OFA and AFO are actually THE EXACT SAME QUIRK oh whoops am I getting ahead of myself again, sorry

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS ALL, “GRANDMA?”

“WHY AM I HERE, WELL LET ME TELL YOU A STORY, GRANDSON. YOU SEE THAT MAN GROWING OUT OF YOUR RIBCAGE THERE? WELL IT’S JUST THE FUNNIEST THING, ACTUALLY”

WAIT SO IS HE SAYING THEY’RE SOULS OR NOT??

this makes it sound like they won’t ever get to rest, which sure sounds like a soul thing to me. well whatever, soul, consciousness, I guess it’s just semantics at the end of the day

anyways though, so this asshole is finally done talking (I’m sure that won’t last), so now we can finally have the heartwarming reunion we’ve all been waiting for

sigh

-- actually, no, not “sigh”!! you know what!! because Tomura says “whatever the reason”, but that’s only because he doesn’t actually have a fucking clue about the reason. like, I don’t know if the knowledge that AFO killed Nana would be enough to give him pause, but if he knew the whole story and knew that AFO was behind not only Nana’s death, but the rest of his family’s deaths as well... now that would be a whole different thing

anyway. but at least it’s becoming clearer now why AFO spent all that time raising Tomura up as his heir and brainwashing him even though he seems to have been planning this body takeover the whole time. it’s all because he loves making people miserable! yaaaaay

btw HAS NANA HAD THE EXACT SAME MOLE ON HER CHIN AS TOMURA THIS ENTIRE TIME WTF. am I just the least observant person who ever lived lmao

lol wtf

ground: [randomly starts exploding]

Deku: “ONE FOR ALL IS BEING ERODED!!!” LOL IS THAT WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE, OKAY THEN. I’ll take your word for it

y’all I cannot fucking get over this “AFO growing out of Tomura’s hip socket like a fucked-up ventriloquist dummy” shit though

you do realize that absolutely no one can take you seriously right now, right?? it’s important to me that you know this

WHAT’S THIS NOW

seems like SOMEONE has had it up to here with a certain SOMEONE ELSE’S bullshit lmaooo bye Felicia

I SAID GOOD DAY!!

you guys why is he not dying!!

-- OH DAMN

love how Deku is just lying there like “YOU KNOW THOSE DAYS WHERE YOU’RE LIKE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.” poor Deku

(ETA: where in god’s name is OFA Prime standing. why are my thoughts fully consumed by this lmao.)

are Nana and OFA Prime even doing anything?? why are they sticking their arms out like that. wait hold up is this all a big metaphor for the back-and-forth going on between Tomura trying to steal OFA and OFA being all “actually no you can’t, please enter your password and click on all the boxes with bicycles in them to prove you’re a human first”?

OH SNAP OFA PRIME SAID NO THANKS

“SORRY BRO WE’VE ALREADY MADE OURSELVES AT HOME HERE”

I have only just noticed that metaphysical!Deku has the same scars as actual!Deku. and yet his arms are not currently broken! that doesn’t really seem consistent to me but whatever!! maybe he saved right before the boss battle, that would be smart of him

anyway, that’s great and all that OFA Prime is here helping out, but I really wanted to see Nana fight AFO in a one on one though so I’m a bit disappointed. also why is it only the two of them?? where are Banjou and the others. of all the times to be sleeping on the job

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THIS MAN

WOULD YOU STOP. WOULD YOU JUST QUIT IT ALREADY

oh shit hold up

doesn’t this confirm that the reason he wanted to transfer his power to Tomura is because he believed it would make him strong enough to finally take OFA because of Quirk Singularity? jesus christ. and here he was so sure of himself. but it turns out he doesn’t actually know shit! you can’t just fucking take OFA like that ya dingdong that’s not how it works

(ETA: SO, A THOUGHT -- is there any sort of subtle hinting here in the way that he words this? “if your strength is combined with mine”, as opposed to “if my strength is combined with yours”? no idea if the admittedly-so-small-as-to-be-almost-inconsequential distinction between those two sentences exists in the original Japanese or not, but I find it very interesting that the English wording implies that he’s the one adding Tomura’s strength to his own, rather than vice versa.)

now he’s insulting Deku!!

excuse me sir WHO ASKED YOU anyway. and never mind that being consumed by an, AND I QUOTE, “unquenchable” rage is your protege’s whole THING, and that he also needed your help to avoid being burned to a crisp a short while ago. where do you get off I swear

(ETA: also just want to point out that in the panel before this one he says that he’s been “watching through Tomura”, which pretty much confirms that his consciousness or whatever is alive inside of him all the time. Tomura is definitely not getting rid of this guy any time soon.)

WOW

first he calls Kacchan useless, then he calls Deku a simpleton, and don’t even get me started with Nana. just, you guys. this man is just... a very, very rude man

NOW OFA IS ALL “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT MAKES HIM SUCH A GOOD PROTAGNIST YOU BUTTMUNCH” AND OMG PREACH

“DESPITE HIS COMMON SENSE” sdfkllk my man he already has one brother roasting him, take it easy guy

AHH WHAT

IS THIS BACK IN THE REAL WORLD

YEP

hahaha nice try Tomura

so Deku’s all “I didn’t lose my power! BUT” and I assume the “but” is the part where his arms are still broken and shit, and meanwhile Tomura’s body is almost healed up now finally

they’re both wiped out and now AFO is again petitioning Tomura to let him take over goddammit

“you won’t lose your mind” yep, he sure won’t! scout’s honor!! pinky swear!!

meanwhile Deku is getting fucking desperate flkjl;k my baby. and Machia is going to show up any second now too, probably. what else can fucking go wrong at this point

oh shit I shouldn’t have asked

get ready to rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuumble, probably

OH MY GOD

WELL AT LEAST SOMEONE HERE IS HAVING A GOOD TIME. jesus

so as soon as he heard Endeavor was there he got all, “TIME FOR THE BIG REVEAL”, is that right? WELL JOKE’S ON YOU TOUYA, YOUR DAD DOESN’T SEEM ALL THAT CONSCIOUS AT THE MOMENT, SO THAT’S GOING TO DRAIN A LOT OF THE TENSION FROM THE SCENE WHEN YOU GO ALL REVERSE DARTH VADER ON HIM AND HE’S ALL “ZZZZZZZZ”

meanwhile Toga is having unsettlingly quiet angst

jesus christ Toga this is all we need right now

“WAS JIN-KUN NOT A PERSON” sdkfjlk Horikoshi I swear. please have mercy on this fandom. this is the debate that refuses to die!!

but seriously ffs, the issue isn’t that Jin deserved to die, it’s that the countless people whom Jin would have either directly or indirectly killed didn’t deserve to die either. people don’t only become people when you attach names and faces to them! we all loved Jin because we’d gotten to know him, but that doesn’t mean his life was inherently worth more than the lives of all the people he would have killed. sometimes there’s just no good answer

like, it’s just crazy to me that because the heroes are all “we want to protect everyone!” but then aren’t always able to do so because that’s literally impossible, whereas the villains are all “we don’t care about anyone other than the select few people that we actually like!”, the villains somehow wind up getting the better PR. it just so happens that it’s infinitely easier to be loyal to the interests of a few people as opposed to ALL THE PEOPLE. like, no shit, it’s easier to stick to your moral code when you barely have a moral code. and so the villains can kill thousands and no one bats an eye, but if a hero fails to save even one person they’re hypocritical moral failures. like what the hell

BUT ANYWAY, sorry to go off on a tangent there lol, it’s not really a big deal. I’m just preemptively trying to stave off more discourse about it lol but who am I even kidding

anyways lol, but of course they won’t kill you unless they have no choice, Toga. but when it comes to catch-22 situations, it’s a bit much to infer that the heroes don’t consider the villains people just because they opt for the choice that spares more innocent lives. I sure as hell don’t want my babies out here killing people, but to say that they can’t no matter what or else they’re no different from the villains is just...

anyway so the chapter has now just ENDED, just like that!! on a shot of Ochako’s face!

I SENSE ANOTHER THROWDOWN COMING. and it had better not be a total letdown like the last one! NANA BARELY DID ANYTHING HORIKOSHI, WHAT THE FUCK. I started out with such high hopes lol

but I will settle for Toga VS Ochako, and Deku VS Tomura: The Sequel: Shouto’s Revenge! SPEAKING OF HEROES WHO HAVE NO QUALMS ABOUT MURDERING PEOPLE lmao

[peralta-guaranteed]

can you write something base on this incorrect quote? https://burnonyou.tumblr.com (stealing anons idea)

Amy's questioning "Babe?" called into the dark, but definitely populated apartment (the randomly thrown shoes and leather jacket over the dining chair are a dead give away) is only answered by a deep groan from the bedroom, one that sounds muffled through pillows, so she's not surprised when she finds Jake face-down on the mattress.

What's confusing is that he's still fully dressed, and clearly not trying to get to sleep, his hands balling up the blanket underneath him in frustration as he barely lifts his head when she sits down next to him and starts sifting through his curls.

"What happened?" Amy asks, and he lets out another groan.

"I am the most embarassing person in the world."

"Sometimes, yes." She smiles, because she can tell despite all the signs that this isn't as much of an episode as it seems. She knows him by now - knows how to read his overplayed shock and drama from the actual hurt and sorrow he hides so well. "What did you do?"

"I ran into Holt at the coffee shop, and he was reading this book, and I recognised it from your nightstand, so I asked him about it." Jake still mumbles into the pillow, and Amy almost forgets to listen as she feels a jolt of excitement about the knowledge that she and the Captain are currently delving deep into the same philosophical treatise she's been devouring after work.

"That doesn't sound embarassing."

"No, but he was like, really getting into it. I thought I'd get a short comment with five words I don't understand like always, but he started explaining it and talking about the last chapter and stuff, and then I was sitting down with him with my coffee and he just kept talking."

"Babe, that all sounds nice." Amy busies herself with one of Jake's longer curls, ignoring the tiniest bit of jealousy that Jake got Holt to 'geek out' over a book she herself was reading, but she could remedy that easily by mentioning it during their next meeting or something. She'd get her moment too.

"It was. It was really nice. We had, like, a whole moment. I kinda got into the book too. Because he liked it so much. It was cool."

Jake sighs, deeply, and Amy feels him tense under her hand.

"And then I called him dad."

"You've done that before, it's not that bad. I think he finds it more funny than embarassing."

"No, but this was different." Jake finally turns around, curls into a little ball as he presses his face against her thigh, and she resumes scratching along his temple down to his neck. "It was like, really personal. Way too much. Like, there was this moment, and then I went and did the stupid emotional baggage thing, and it ruined it all."

Amy can only smile as she imagines her Golden Retriever boyfriend in all his excited, tail-wagging happiness intently listening to Holt explaining something, getting sucked into the story as much as he always does when someone is really passionate about something. She sees them in that coffee shop she knows so well - Holt always sits in the same corner, too - talking and nodding and spurning each other on, and something tells her that there's nothing embarassing or moment-ruining about Jake's word association blunder. Not that it really was one - the few ‘Dad’s that have escaped him before where more mindless than anything, but she knows well enough that they were all meant with the same feeling, even if Jake wouldn’t be too happy to admit it to himself or anyone else.

"I really don't think you messed up, Jake." She tries to gently calm him. "It sounds like it fit the moment, anyway."

Jake only groans again as he presses his face even harder against her jeans.

-*-

“Raymond?” Kevin asks with hesitation, having found no trace of his husband in the kitchen or the dining room, where he’d usually expect to find him at this hour of the evening. But he’s been enarmored with the book he’d recommended to him a week ago, and so it is not quite as surprising to find him in the reading room. What is surprising is that he is not reading, the mentioned tome lying on the desk beside him instead, Cheddar at his feet, and his face in a clear state of a very hard to read emotion.

“Are you alright?”

Holt’s initial reaction is to apologise, as he is won’t to do when he’s bothering someone with an emotional outburst, until he remembers that he’s facing his husband, the only person in the world who he’s not ashamed to be emotional in front of, so he only shakes his head.

“I am afraid you will find me quite a mess tonight, Kevin.”

“What happened?” Kevin kneels down to pet Cheddar, who has dutifully trodded over to him for greetings, but not taking his eyes off of Holt, who sighs.

“Peralta met me at the coffee shop today, during my usual after work coffee break before the drive home.”

“He didn’t upset you, did he?”

“No.” Holt shakes his head, then leans it against his palm, a thinking pose that is rare to see and never fails to incite just the lightest spark of desire in Kevin when he gets to witness his partner so vulnerable and attractive at the same time. “Quite the opposite. He asked me about the book you recommended.”

“He’s surely not reading it.”

“No, it seems that Santiago is.”

“Ah.” Kevin nods as he gets up again, Cheddar returning to his seat at Holt’s slippered feet. That makes far more sense - he’d thought it might interest the young detective, actually, and had been thinking about sending her a message about the book, but then considered that their relationship was not yet at the level where one could simply leave reading recommendations in the other’s email inbox.

“I tried to summarise the book for him in a way he would understand, too, but then-” Holt shakes his head with a huff, almost a smile, and Kevin can’t resist stepping closer to the chair until he can lean against its armrest. “I- I simply lost control, and began talking about it without pause. It is a wonderful read, really. Even Peralta seemed interested - despite my treatise being longer than ten minutes, it kept his attention span.”

“That’s remarkable.” Kevin scoffs only a little, still teetering on his like or dislike of the young man.

“It really was. It felt quite - connecting, in a way. I think people would describe it as ‘being a moment’ between us, if you understand.”

He nods, silently, because he can tell that the big reveal is yet to come, the story of emotions across Holt’s face moving to the finish line - his husband is a wonderful storyteller, but sometimes he does push the act to its limits.

“And then Peralta got lost in his reply to me, as well, and called me Dad.” Holt says in a much quieter voice than before, and Kevin can tell from the slight quiver of his lip that he’s fighting back tears.

“You’ve mentioned him calling you that before.” He tries to be gentle, to not upset him any further, knowing full well that those mentioned situations meant more to Holt than maybe he himself was willing to admit yet.

“Yes, but not- I think not in this way.” Holt presses a finger to his lips for a second, as if he’s searching for the right words. “Usually, it seems more like he is forgetting himself when he says it, simply substituting me as an authoritative person for a father figure. But this time, it felt quite... emotional. Like I had been bestowed the title properly.”

Kevin’s hand finds the top of his, laying flat on the armrest between them, and gives it a soft squeeze, barely appropriate now that they’re alone in their own home.

“He looks up to you, Raymond. I wouldn’t be surprised to know that you’ve gained that title quite a while ago.”

He feels his husband take in a sharp breath, and lets go of his hand immediately.

“And I think you’d suit the title quite well, too. For Jake.”

[phoenixyfriend]

I’ve been trying to figure out the best obi wan ship. They all have one slightly problematic thing this way or that. I’ve landed on the idea of obi wan and an equal is pretty top tier. But then I saw a picture of Coran from voltron. Coran and Obiwan might be a disaster but also both are dad shaped, both are bad ass, both are ginger, both have an accent. I think it could work. But another part of me is like Coran is just obi and jarjar mashed together. At the very least they hooked up.

Hey I just had restaurant ramen and Starbucks and actually feel like a human being so let's do something unnecessary but funny. I'm taking this as a challenge, anon.

Also IMO Coran has more in common with C3P0 than with JarJar

So obviously, both of these happen in Big Space, but the difference appears to be density. We see about the same complexity of culture and species interactions, but Voltron covers more galaxies. It's vaguely implied that Earth, at least, is the only planet with sapient life in the Milky Way.

I think the way I want to play this out, culturally, is that the Voltron area of the universe covers a much wider, but much more sparsely populated area, while the SW-verse is just the one very densely populated (in part because apparently humans just went Literally Everywhere) galaxy, where they didn't necessarily bother with developing the tech to go to other galaxies (except Rishi, which only sort of counts) because they haven't really even charted out their own yet. It was never contacted by the Voltron side of things because [checks notecards full of excuses] it's really far away from Altea and all that, and the Force shielded the galaxy from Galra interests because Reasons.

All this to say that the two franchises didn't interact until after the Voltron plotline was already over. We'll say it went mostly canon, except Allura survived because uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck that.

We'll say that this is mid-TCW, you know, before Obi-Wan is a bundle of repressed traumas and bad coping mechanisms that's lost almost everyone he's ever loved to the dark side through death or corruption. He's still (mostly) okay! Anakin's not dark (or at least, not as dark as he could be; Obi-Wan doesn't know about the Tuskens), and Ahsoka's still in good standing and most people are alive and--and okay the army is a massive ethical violation he hates with his very soul and he misses Qui-Gon and Anakin's keeping secrets and pulling away from him every day but He's Fine, Guys.

He's Fine.

In comes a ship from not Wild Space, but beyond that. Intergalactic visitors, from the direction of the deeply concerning Force bullshit they felt a few years ago. Translation tech is decent enough on both sides that they get to talking pretty quickly. The explorer is actually a member of the Blade of Marmora, who gets the absolute most basic info (approximately this many inhabited planets, approximately this many trillions of sapients in the recorded galaxy, basic structure of the government for the past however many years, most recent conflict, etc.)

BoM person is like "cool, okay so you guys are really well set-up so I'm just gonna head back and kick this up a few rungs of the coalition ladder because this is way above my paygrade, I'll make sure you get some diplomats who can maybe help out with the whole galactic civil war situation as neutral parties."

The Voltron Coalition does send a diplomat! They, uh, also send Coran, who isn't technically a diplomat, but he's high-level.

The thing is, okay, that Coran is mostly just... passably competent at things. He's a jack of all trades, master of none type. He knows a lot of things, actually, but his practical knowledge in high pressure situations tends to be up in the air. He knows how to fix the Castle Ship and various technologies, but all of that info is ten thousand years out of date. He was a competent fighter at one point but these days his back gives out. He's very knowledgeable regarding intergalactic politics but, again, that information is ten thousand years out of date. He's also a little prone to social gaffs in dicey situations (e.g. the inciting incident in the Voltron Show episode where he misses the single day with clear skies), but puts in so much goddamn effort to make things happen.

In this manner, he's like a warped mirror of what Obi-Wan is and could be.

THAT SAID

Coran is actually really good with teenagers, and specifically with training them.

And Obi-Wan... isn't.

Obi-Wan's snarky and snippy and sassy, and he's decent enough at teaching and he's great at being a jokey friend and all, but he's not necessarily very good at emotions. And unfortunately for Obi-Wan, the teenagers he spends the most time with are Really Full Of Emotions. He tries, bless him, but he's just... he doesn't respond well to emotional conversations at the best of times.

His son-figure saying "You're like a father to me" leads to a response of... radio silence. Guys. That's not the mark of a man who knows how to talk about his feelings with the people he cares about.

In swans Coran with the various other diplomatic envoys of the visiting extragalactic community. The entire situation is really leading to a lull in the war because nobody wants to risk pissing off this clearly well-funded, well-powered third party. As a result, many of the High Generals can interact with the envoys, even if they spend quite a bit of time eyeing the Separatist representatives on the other side of the room, because clearly Everyone Needs A Seat At This Table.

It's a very tense situation.

Obviously, Coran is exactly the weird uncle that goes around telling plausibly-exaggerated stories about Weblums and Yalmors and Balmeras. I'm going to say at least one former Paladin is there, maybe Hunk. Hunk's fun, and also very willing to help Coran make friends and seem Amicable instead of Distant by correcting some of the exaggerations. There's a nice, calm atmosphere in a bubble around Coran and his nonsense, and it's a weird situation but arguably just... you know. It's good. He's good at making people feel safe around him.

Cue the hissed argument between Skywalker and Kenobi. The actual cause of said argument isn't important, just the fact that, in a dark corner where they're less likely to cause a PR issue, Anakin and Obi-Wan are having it out. Anakin's maybe twenty, still a lanky ragebaby, all that fun stuff. Obi-Wan is a the endpoint of every too-young brotherdad. He's thirty-six but feels like he's sixty-three. He's tired, but trying so damn hard to still connect with Anakin and just--just--

Obi-Wan gives himself a few minutes to calm down before following Anakin. He doesn't even remember what they were arguing about, really, but he has to mend the bridge before it frays even more than it already has. If Anakin goes to Palpatine for advice again, he's going to... do something. Obi-Wan isn't sure what, but he just has to fix this.

What he finds is... well, Anakin did end up going to vent to a man of an earlier generation who acts like a slightly eccentric older relative, but it's not Palpatine for once.

The goofy, slightly abrasive but mostly charming, brightly-colored representative of the Voltron Coalition is standing in the little balcony that Anakin's made it to, listening as Obi-Wan's recently-knighted padawan vents. The man nods and makes noises at the appropriate times, and then asks questions that are... maybe a little too accurate.

"You said that you view him as a father, that he raised you after you left your mother."

"Well, yeah, but he doesn't think I'm ready, or--"

"No parent ever does."

"...my mom thought I was ready to become a Jedi."

"I can't speak for your mother," the representative says, "but the princess of my people, Allura... I half-raised that girl from the beginning, and after the destruction of Altea, we were all the other had left. I watched her lead battles and bring life to planets, trying to rebuild a universe out of the ashes of what we'd left behind... I saw the evidence with my own eyes, and I still, every time, I worried for her."

"Why?"

"I worried that she'd be hurt, that she wasn't ready, that she'd make a decision she regretted. Often, she did, and I had to help her back up, and while she's always come back, stronger than before... she is the closest thing I have ever had to a daughter, and I will always worry for her. Every parent does. Do you think, perhaps, that your own Jedi Master, that you consider a father, may worry because he looks at you like a son? That it's not that he doesn't trust you, but that he doesn't trust the world around you?"

Obi-Wan feels his heart in his throat.

The conversation continues in that vein. While Obi-Wan can't say he likes the fact that this stranger is putting words in his mouth, if only as hypotheticals, he can't deny that there's a part of him that relaxes as Anakin does, as every frustrated fresh-knight question gets a measured elderly-steward response that's angled to consider the interpretation that favors Anakin and Obi-Wan in equal measure. Every word encourages Anakin to talk things out and lay boundaries and express his frustrations to Obi-Wan in the plainest words possible.

There's a story in there, more than one. The representative tends to go off on tangents, ones that Anakin sometimes finds interesting and sometimes just resigns himself to. Mostly, though, it goes well, and Obi-Wan... well, he's always been 'a nosy little bastard,' according to quite a few people.

(In his defense, the terms they'd used about Quinlan's 'investigative personality' had been quite a bit stronger.)

He eavesdrops to the end, and Anakin doesn't notice at all. Obi-Wan's not sure if he should try to address Anakin's lack of awareness of the world around him. He's not technically Anakin's master anymore. The comment may be taken as a criticism of his worth and capability, rather than a sincere desire to see his padawan not die.

He approaches the representative instead. He intends to introduce himself. Instead, the first words that tumble out of his mouth are:

"How do you do it?"

The man--older than he looks from a distance, more wrinkles than the bright hair would suggest, but not quite elderly yet--turns and lifts a brow. "Hm?"

"I'm sorry, I'm--" Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. The young man you were just talking to is my former padawan, er, my former apprentice. I've been finding it harder and harder to speak with him over the past few years, and it seems that every interaction we have leads to an argument. How do you... manage that? I can't get him to listen to me at all."

"Ah, teenagers," the man sighs.

"He's twenty."

The representative pauses, and turns to him. "Are you the one he says raised him? The father?"

"Well... yes, I suppose that's one way to phrase it," Obi-Wan says, eyes darting to the side. He doesn't know how to explain the whole attachment situation to someone who barely knows what a Jedi is. He has even less of an idea of how to explain his own broken ability to speak of emotion, the parts of his mind that Bant clucks over and attributes to his own complicated relationship with Qui-Gon. "I had custody as his primary guardian from ages nine to nineteen and was the primary individual for handling his schooling, health, and general upbringing."

"That sounds to me like a very convoluted way of saying you were his father in all but name."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm not exactly old enough to be his father, and I wasn't exactly the person he was supposed to learn from; I was the... back-up option."

"It seems he cares for you very much."

"He didn't have much of a choice," Obi-Wan says, with the kind of helpless smile and awkward shrug he's long gotten used to sharing with people when they ask. "And I assure you he'd have been happier with the man that was meant to teach him."

"I'd say that the 'would have' in this situation is much less important than what is," the representative says. Obi-Wan probably should have paid more attention to his name. "I wasn't in a position to define my relation to Allura or her father in the way that truly suited our situation, by... oh, tradition, social norms, public relations, take your pick. I was a very well-regarded official, of course, but I wasn't royalty, not even nobility, and I certainly wasn't wasn't legally or publicly part of the family. But for all the limitations there, I was still able to find ways to tell her and her family what they meant to me, and they in return. Your apprentice cares for you very much, and I'm sure you care back, but I'd hazard quite the guess that you've no idea how to tell him that."

"I... I shouldn't," Obi-Wan says. "I'm fond of him, of course, but I've no wish to smother him, and to simply say it would be undignified. I imagine he'd laugh in my face."

The representative raises one eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink.

"Master Kenobi," he says carefully. "Might I suggest you go find your young man, tell him you love him, and perhaps give him a hug?"

Obi-Wan's face flares red. It's been years since anyone short of Yoda has spoken to him like that.

"I'm not a child," he sniffs, trying to angle enough away that the blush isn't as noticeable. He's damnably prone to such things. "You're not that much older than me."

The man laughs, and Obi-Wan lifts his glass to his lips in a futile attempt to hid the embarrassment a little more. "Oh, not counting the stasis, I've well reached the age of six hundred and twenty-four, my boy!"

Obi-Wan chokes on his drink.

The man laughs a little more, but thumps him on the back until he's breathing normally again.

"Yes, most of the humans I've told have had quite the reaction!" the representative assures him. "But yes, even with the times adjusted to what any given local year is, I am significantly longer-lived than most species."

"No kidding," Obi-Wan manages. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and looks over at the representative. He takes in the wrinkles and bright eyes, and says, "Well, I must say you look very well for a near-human of such an age. I can only name one person in that category that has managed better, and I haven't seen her since I was a child."

"I shall take that as the compliment it's intended to be," the representative says, twisting the edge of his mustache and beaming.

The man is... well, goofy, really, and quite a bit older than Obi-Wan had thought, but he's quite the charmer. Obi-Wan faintly compares him to a few different people in the back of his mind, but nothing quite fits. For all that the man is quite the jokester and--going by some things he'd seen from the corner of his eye in the main party--a master of physical comedy, the representative is actually more competent than he looks, and for all his visible age, not bad to look at. He is also, seemingly, an expert in dealing with teenagers and young adults, something Obi-Wan himself is... decidedly not.

He really should go speak with Anakin.

And there's a war to fight.

He doesn't really have much time, even with the recent lull.

He's in no place to be looking at the clean-shaven jaw and wondering what it would feel like under his lips, or to let himself consider whether this man would be the kind to have an hours-long discussion as to the narrative forms common in other galaxies, and whether they have anything paralleled to those in Obi-Wan's own, or if this man would show the same enthusiasm over teas that he'd shown over the hors d'oeuvres inside.

He should... really go find Anakin.

"I suppose it's time to find my padawan," he says, more to fill the air than anything. "Er... thank you, both for speaking with him, and for speaking with me."

"Not a problem at all, Master Kenobi!" the representative says, and Obi-Wan realizes that there's one last thing he may have... forgotten.

"This is terribly embarrassing, but I don't believe I caught your name?" Obi-Wan says.

"Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, at your service!" the man says, with a sweeping bow. "As you can imagine, most simply call me Coran."

"Then I insist you call me Obi-Wan," he says, and before he can stop himself, "Might I bother you with an invitation to a shared tea time? You seem a knowledgeable fellow, and I'd appreciate the chance to... eh, pick your brain, shall we say."

It's not the smoothest come on he's ever put out there, or the most easily interpreted, but... well. Perhaps it's for the best. He's rather often found his tastes going in irresponsible directions, and it'll be much easier to brush this off without diplomatic incident if there's room for Coran to politely ignore the less platonic options.

Obi-Wan hopes he doesn't.

It's very selfish of him, but a dalliance with an older gentleman... well. He does, perhaps, make such irresponsible decisions, even now.

"I do believe I'd enjoy such a thing!" Coran enthuses, grabbing Obi-Wan's hand and shaking it in large, effusive movements.

Oh, this is a terrible idea, Obi-Wan thinks, even as he exchanges comm numbers and says goodbye.

Still.

He likes the idea of having at least a little fun, sedate or less so, while they have some time to themselves.

[your-brilliant-lady-m]

Part 3 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Transformations, Potions and Power-Up's

Welcome to my analysis of basic concepts in Miraculous. Let's talk about transformations, potions and power-up's. This one is going to be interesting.

Apparently, only child superheroes have a time limit and can use their power only once. And adults can use their powers many times and maintain their transformation.

I don't take Thomas Astruc's Twitter statements seriously, but he said that adults don't have to detransform because they can feed the kwami with their energy. What happens when energy runs out? Does it mean that holder of the miraculous dies and transformation drops? Or does transformation drops when the kwami grows tired enough? However, according to "Silencer", transformation can't be released until the holder says detransformation words or uses their power (applies to children only). Is that why Master Fu doesn't transform these days? Because he is old and doesn't have enough energy for Wayzz.

At the same time, Bunnix/Bunnyx held her transformation for several thousand years in "Timetagger" and she was still alive. Moreover, not only she was still alive, she hasn't aged a day. Alix still looked around 25 even after spending so much time in stone. Her sanity was also still intact. Does that mean that as long as people are transformed they are immortal and can't die of natural causes, can't get sick or be killed? Does the Miraculous pause all inner processes? Do people stop ageing when they are transformed? Does that mean that prolonged transformations essentially slowed down puberty for Marinette and Adrien because every Akuma attack (their transformation during this attack to be precise) acts as a pause for their growth process? Does that mean that transformed heroes don't need food, sleep or oxygen? And Alix doesn't experience any negative side-effects after prolonged transformation. A lot of questions must be answered here.

But apparently, the "adults can use their power many times without detransforming" rule does not apply to Gabriel. In "Heroes' Day" he turns Nathalie into Catalyst who gives Hawkmoth the power to "release as many akumas as he desires". Does that mean that he can't normally do it? On the other hand, in "Queen Banana" he creates another Akuma right after the fight with akumatized Chloe ended.

Do you remember this? In "Origins" we find out that akumatized butterflies can multiply. That's why Ladybug needs to purify them. So, does that mean that Scarlet Moth and Catalyst weren't necessary?

Hawkmoth's plan in "Heroes' Day" was actually very smart. However, it can fall apart when you remember that butterflies can multiply. How does that work? Why do they multiply? Could Gabriel akumatize Nathalie into Catalyst (akumatized object is something not very valuable, like a piece of paper), then break the akumatized object and release the Akuma into the world? Would that turn people only into copies of Catalyst? I wouldn't call this thing a plothole, exactly. I'm just curious because it's an unclear moment. Perhaps you could explain it as the element of a soft magic system with unclear rules. Because the magic system in Miraculous is a mix between the hard and soft system.

Adults without time-limited power have a serious advantage over children. Why does Master Fu give Ladybug and Black Cat to teenagers then? In the beginning, Fu doesn't know that Butterfly holder is an adult. Isn't it safer to give 2 most powerful Miraculouses to adults just in case? If Butterfly Holder is a child then 2 adults with more powerful Miraculous would win much faster. If Butterfly Holder is an adult as well, then the fight is more even.

We know the out-of-universe reason for doing this. There would be no story then. Miraculous holders have to be kids since it's a kids show. But in-universe it doesn't make sense. In "Furious Fu" Su Han even says that children are not allowed to handle the Miraculous at all according to the rules of the Order. Fu knows that children have a time limit. It looks like he deliberately sets them up for failure. Why?

Is that because children are easier to manipulate as they are most likely to trust Fu's judgement no questions asked? This reasoning doesn't look good for Fu, who is supposed to be a wise and kind mentor. Is that because children won't abuse their powers? Find a trustworthy adult then. Give us some kind of in-universe explanation!

If you can't explain it then do something with the time-limit rule. It's an important plot device, which contributes to tension and raises the stakes during fights. So, removing it is unwise. Consider giving adults a time limit as well then.

Or you can create different rules. Maybe Black Cat and Ladybug can't be wielded by adults, unlike other lower-tier Miraculous? Maybe Miraculous and Kwami can choose the wielder in some capacity, and this magical bond can't be changed? Do Kwamis feel a pull towards several people and Guardian then chooses the final holder? If there's no pull whatsoever, then Kwami won't be able to grant powers to this person? How much weight does the decision of a Guardian have?

I actually like this last idea the most. It makes sense and avoids plotholes at the same time preserving the time-limit rule. I spent less than 20 minutes figuring this out.

This way Fu gave Ladybug and Black Cat to children because he didn't have a choice. Plagg and Tikki gave him suggestions but these people didn't pass his tests. Marinette and Adrien are the last ones and they do pass. It adds some tension and showcases desperation on Master Fu's part. Magical pull doesn't always mean that potential holders are good people. That's why Miraculous sometimes end up in the wrong hands.

Insert a conversation between Marinette and Tikki or Plagg and Adrien about this choosing process, have them wonder about the bond Nooroo and Hawkmoth share.

Then add more information about bonding. The magical connection can be formed just like people form relationships if human and Kwami spend some time together. It nicely adds up with the reason why Master Fu gave Ladybug and Black Cat to teenagers. He could have given both jewels to adults without a bond and waited for the connection to form but alas, there was no time. He needed active holders right now, and waiting for some adult to come around wasn't an option. But here's the catch. Only decent, kind people with good intentions can earn and create a magical bond. And this has the potential for a truly delicious scenario (more on that later).

It's a very tricky situation. But these rules must be stated and figured out in the very beginning. Because it can create plotholes down the line.

Unification

Combining several different Miraculous is an interesting concept and fusion of powers has been used for a long time as a storytelling element. It's important for the plot in several episodes of seasons 3 and 4.

However, there's "Kwamibuster", where the worldbuilding is broken one more time. It is awfully inconsistent within itself just like "Chat Blanc", "Timetagger" and "Furious Fu". (How do writers keep doing this? I have no idea. But then again even "Avengers: Endgame" contradicts itself numerous times. It's truly miraculous how they managed to do this with their budget, I'm impressed).

For a moment let's ignore all absolutely awful priorities that Marinette has in this episode as well as the rule "you can't know the identity of your partner or else you will have to give up your miraculous". This rule is literally never mentioned again before or after this episode. It's just there and it doesn't make sense. I know it's hard to ignore, but one must try. Instead, let's focus on this dialogue below.

Master Fu clearly states that you can't merge the Miraculous. It could make you lose your mind. The only more or less acceptable unification is that of Ladybug and Black Cat.

What happens next? Marinette puts on every Miraculous without any problem just "to free Kwamis" and transforms into Multimouse. The only sign of her discomfort is a moment of dizziness that's gone in a few seconds. Moreover, it never happens again, it's never mentioned. Then she does the exact thing that Fu told her not to do and starts merging Miraculous left and right. She continues to do so in season 4 every other day. What? Of course, how could I forget Shadowmoth? Gabriel merges 2 Miraculous every time in season 4. He doesn't lose his mind.

You can't tell us that merging can make you lose your mind and then in the next scene show us the complete opposite. That's bad writing. If you need the concept of unification to work then cancel the "lose your mind" rule and instead say that the merging process tires you out. There's no lasting harm, just that you will be very tired. If you want to raise the stakes, then say that wielding more than one Miraculous requires a strong will and practice. It's possible, but you can't perform unification just like that.

In this case, you lay the groundwork for the plotline of Marinette and Adrien for season 4 and 5. This plotline is about mastering unification. Show us how our heroes practice with different combinations of Miraculouses outside of Akuma battles. Show how they are improving. Maybe, Ladybug and Chat Noir nearly lose in the season 3 finale because the unification still drains them. However, in season 4 they put more effort into their training and by the time season 5 rolls around they are good at this. They became a stronger team and partners because of that. Their training sessions are also a good set-up for the development of the love square. Nothing like this will happen, but a girl can dream.

Look, I get it. You want Marinette to be special. Unfortunately, you have made her too special. She starts to break the laws of your magic system. We don't see the process. One moment she has 0 knowledge about something and then she is already an accomplished master of the thing in question and often it happens in the same episode. Marinette somehow just knows about the properties of every Miraculous on-screen, but her training happened off-screen. We as the audience are left confused and wondering. Wait, how does she know this? Was there a missing episode? Was this mentioned in some comic? The audience keenly feels the lack of plot-relevant content and explanations.

Potions and Power-Ups

They are a marketing ploy to sell more toys and merch with character transformations. That's it. Are they useful for the story? Yes, they are sometimes. Do power-up's make sense as a worldbuilding element? I'm sorry to tell you this, but no.

Miraculous Grimoire contains lots of potion recipes for Kwamis. I liked that Kwamis can't read the grimoire to avoid giving information to malevolent holders, which implies that they can't lie to their holder about their powers. I talked about this in my previous posts.

Let's start with Ice Transformation. Apparently, in-universe its only useful characteristic and the thing that sets it apart from normal transformation is skates. Maybe, this transformation also has additional protection from the cold. Maybe. Miraculous makes heroes nearly invulnerable and enhances their physical abilities. I find it hard to believe that protection from elements is not included in the package. And that's it. If we remember that Miraculous holders have subconscious control over transformation's appearance, we can also assume that a person can have conscious control as well. The laws of the magic system in Miraculous allow Marinette to ask Tikki to create skates for this particular transformation. Potions aren't necessary for this. This way you can still sell new toy, but in-universe this works better.

Our next stop is Aqua Transformation. It gives heroes the ability to breathe underwater and fins. That's all. In "Syren" it appears that this transformation also makes them more agile and fast in the water. However, Ladybug's yo-yo worked just fine before Aqua form when she tried to drag Kim to the surface. Her movements underwater weren't restricted either with normal transformation. So their fighting ability is not affected by the potion.

Kwami can live without oxygen. I mentioned earlier that Bunnix with normal transformation in "Timetagger" spent several thousand years in stone without oxygen and probably in some kind of stasis. Do transformed heroes need oxygen? No. Then their inability to breathe underwater doesn't make sense. Therefore, a potion isn't necessary for this.

Next, let's talk about fins. They could appear through the conscious desire of the holder just like skates.

Honestly, "Timetagger" and "Chat Blanc" completely destroyed worldbuilding in Miraculous. These episodes just shouldn't exist. They aren't even consistent within themselves, nevermind the rest of the show, which is why I still don't understand why fandom has such a weird hard-on for them and for Bunnix. Oh, wait. On second thought, I get it. They were just fanservice after all.

Cosmo Bug an Astro Chat. Space power-up give heroes the ability to fly and exist without oxygen. Ancient grimoire had the recipe of space potion, apparently. And humans got into space in the second half of the 20-th century. Ok. That totally makes sense.

If ancient people invented a space potion, that could also mean that back in Ancient Egypt Ladybug and Black Cat holders could use advanced technology. But Su Han in "Furious Fu" is surprised to discover that Ladybug can just call Chat Noir. He assumed she would send a bird with a message. That means that unconscious control over transformation extends to the weapons of heroes. For Marinette and Adrien communication means smartphone with navigation, messages, trackers and Bluetooth earbuds. That's why magic gives them smart weapons. Su Han's words prove that the invention of the space potion is not possible. Unless space potion was also subjected to unconscious control over transformation. People couldn't imagine the possibility of space travel in Ancient Egypt, but they could imagine flight. So, perhaps, for heroes back then space potion simply meant wings.

We've established that heroes don't need oxygen. So, a potion isn't necessary for this. The ability to fly also could be achieved through conscious transformation.

That's all for this part of analysis. Let me know what you think. Stay tuned for the next meta. See you!

[morihaus]

Folklore

Two apprentices make their way to the shore of the Isle of the Wise, basket and blanket in tow, already chattering away with one another. Although the College of the Sapiarchs has a reputation its rigorous and cutthroat academic atmosphere, even its most studious pupils are encouraged to take reprieves from their works, if not for their own benefit then for the benefit of the hardworking staff, those who have earned their own breaks from instructing and professing, as well as those who have important duties and research of their own to attend to.

Runalenwe and Pannolaire each possess their own cutthroat reputations, so it is with some surprise that their peers observe them taking these personal allowances of unstructured time not to get a leg up on their competition, but to get out from the halls of learning and into the natural splendor of the wild. They always take their breaks together, ostensibly to keep an eye on their most spirited and contentious academic rival, but also in the spirit of camaraderie; even as they have butted heads over their decades-long apprenticeships, they have found themselves rather transfixed on one another, interested, entertained, some might even say 'enamored.' It's true that they might consider themselves lovers, but they were not young or carefree, rather their love was ennobling and constructive, a means to an end- they would say- and all the fun they have along the way is merely incidental.

Runalenwe reaches what she considers a good place to rest, a nice shady spot under a tree, waves lapping at the shore before them. She unfurls the bright sheet they've brought at, inviting Pannolaire to take her seat before her, to which the other woman smiles and sets herself down very prim and proper. As Runalenwe joins her, she sets their woven basket down beside them, and continues on with their line of dialogue.

"Quite the ambitious project, a catalogue of Tamriel's famed magical artifacts," Pannolaire says. "Was her 12-page dissertation on the Flask of Lillandril not enough?" Her dark crest of brown hair seems to shimmer with life in the sun's light, as does the dress of decorative feathers and scales that she's donned instead of her apprentice's garb. Her companion thinks she cuts a figure rather like a bird of paradise, head held high against her collar of colorful plumage.

"Oh, I'd be fascinated to hear how many she can turn up." Runalenwe replies as she gets comfortable, propping herself up with an elbow against the blanket. "The research will be interesting- and her reports are always wonderfully detailed to be sure. The problem is by just 20 years time, I'm sure we'll be made aware of several new artifacts, or new qualities to the ones we already know, and all her work will be made obsolete. That's the problem with such presumptuous 'catalogues', better to channel your focus on just one thing. She clearly wishes she could be Sapiarch of just about every discipline!" She laughs, a few strands of her curly straw-colored hair swinging free of her top-bun. It's a noble laugh, haughty and mocking, yet it touches Pannolaire just the same as the warm bubbling laugh that came out of her honestly, most often when they were alone.

Pannolaire unpacks the food she'd brought, laying out the small spread as they continue to speak. Rolls of bread, fresh fruit, aged wine, and shellfish. "Which single artifact would you focus on?" Pannolaire glances up as she hands her a warm roll. "Some destructive staff? A weather worker?"

She chuckles, taking a small bite and clearing her mouth before responding. "Oh, Pannolaire, I've more interests than just shocking the daylights out of things! It's funny you should ask, actually."

"It is?" Pannolaire says.

"Yes, and I'll tell you why." Runalenwe grins.

Pannolaire smiles as well, cracking into a shellfish with practiced grace. "Please do."

"You are, I'm sure, familiar with the Ring of Phynaster? Artifact created by the ascended Aldmeri sorcerer Phynaster, great explorer and adventurer, a hero of the High King Aurthelel's court?" Pannolaire nods, not speaking for modesty as she samples some fruit. "It provides the wearer with protection against magics and poisons- it's popularly believed to have been created to facilitate in Phynaster's daring yet dangerous lifestyle, and even to have aided in his mythical long stride. But this story has been confused with time- it is misunderstood by so many of the scholars of Tamriel, those who forget that Phynaster was once one of us, a mortal, with mortal wants, mortal acquaintances."

Pannolaire watches Runalenwe as she orates, every word uttered with such a poise to belie rehearsal, and yet her character is so spontaneous, like an arc of lightning from a hand, or the first crackle of thunder. These qualities make her quite the speaker to spectate, and so she hangs on her every word.

"Phynaster himself was quite a cautious sort- his stride wasn't simply long, it was measured, well-conceived through careful calculation. His safety and longevity was more or less the product of a wise and careful mind. He did not forge his famed ring for his own sake, but for the sake of a lover." Runalenwe's lips curve into even more of a satisfied smile, the kind that tells Pannolaire she's hanging knowledge over her head right now, a coy mocking gesture. She shoots her a look as though to say 'don't leave me in suspense', and the other apprentice continues on. "A certain firebrand, another mage of Aurthelel's court, the oldest and most venerable court of Alinor, composed of only the most respected ancestors; Phynaster, Syrabane, Ruilil, Peregrine- even noble Trinimac brushed shoulders with her and counted her as his peer, as well as his comrade in arms. She was Eeartora the Tempest, queen of the skies, her words commanded storms and her spells sundered coral citadels to the depths of the sea, all to be forgotten as her own legend grew. It was she who caught the first Alinor Sunbird and brought it, unscathed, to the feet of King Aurthelel, and it was she who first mounted a great gryphon and rode it, as Welkynar, into battle."

Her audience of one helps herself to some shellfish as the other sings the praises of this noble and venerated ancestor. Runalenwe considers herself a woman of action, but Pannolaire finds her waxing lyrical on the matters of magic, of magicians, and most anything having to do with her noble clan of wizards. "That certainly sounds like the type of woman who could benefit from such a ring." Pannolaire remarks, smiling and discarding the now emptied remains of her morsel, golden eyes locked on her companion.

"Indeed!" Runalenwe agrees heartily, laughing softly to herself. "And that is what he must have thought, for with her in mind he endeavored to create the powerful artifact that we know today. She was its first holder, and she would go on to bequeath it to her descendants, before ascending to join with her lover in Aetherius..." Her smile lingers, Pannolaire can feel the purposeful pause she is taking and raises a hand to her lips as she chuckles for her lover's theatrics. "Eeartora's line would follow in her wake, living as war mages, welkynars, and studious heroes of their eras. What's more," She raises her chin proudly at this, the rays of sunlight giving a glow to her tan skin. "Her line leads directly to yours truly."

"Ah, I see... no wonder you were going out of your way to flatter her to such a degree." Pannolaire remarks, smirking behind her gloved hand.

Runalenwe scoffs, but smiles. "I can't be shamed for honoring my ancestors, can I?" And with that, she reaches down and helps herself to some fruit, satisfied with her piece.

Her lover gives her a moment's rest, then says something with no other goal than to prod at her ego. "I'm not sure I believe you. I mean, such a famed and legendary ancestor- I've known whole hosts of wizards who give her worship."

Runalenwe, true to form, almost chokes on her apple. "You don't believe me!?" She asks with raised brows, somewhat aware of the game they now play, somewhat genuinely scandalized.

"I'm not sure if I believe you." She corrects her.

"I'll have you know there are extensive genealogical records in my family's tomb!"

Again, Pannolaire laughs behind her hand, and her lover's eyes trace the glimpse of her lips. "Well then, you must take me there on our next sabbatical."

This time, Runalenwe's laugh is brash and untempered, her grin wrinkles her freckled face and her shoulders bob up and down. "Sabbatical! Oh, how rich- what are we, twelfth years???"

Pannolaire laughs along with her, laying beside her, sharing this bright and tranquil day all to themselves. Their hearts are light- they race when they stack their projects up against one another's, when they give presentations knowing that the other is watching, whenever they hold formal dialogue with their peers and mentors watching. How odd it is that their hearts race now, alone together, wearing no uniform and beheld to no observation, no assessment, free to be as they are. Runalenwe's hand finds its place in Pannolaire's, and after an interlude of silence and pecking at their meal, one speaks back up.

"...I'm no good with enchanting, but," Pannolaire says, dark lids drooping as her eyes wander out to sea. "I'm a fool for such romantic gestures... I would love to make you something, something just for you." With these words she shuffles up against Runalenwe's side, leaning against the other woman.

Runalenwe raises her arm to wrap around Pannolaire's waist, pulling her closer still. She leans in to press her head against the other's. "How sweet." Her forehead lies against her temple, her lips hover about her ear as she speaks softly. "What would you make for me, Pann?"

Pannolaire thinks on her skill sets, shifting about with a small bubble of nervousness. She lets herself fall closer against Runalenwe's soft embrace, letting out a long sigh. "A book on etiquette, perhaps."

The other woman chuckles. "I'm classically trained, love."

"In Aldmeri, sure. But would you know how to say 'good day' to a Nord?" Pannolaire retorts.

She laughs again, and for lack of a response presses her lips against her cheek. Pannolaire laughs too, forgetting the lunch they'd packed and shifting about to bury her face in the crook of her lover's neck, leaving a couple of black marks where she plants her kisses. Arms wrapped around her, Runalenwe replies. "Do they have those- good days- in that frigid country of theirs? Honestly, I'd be shocked if they see the sun."

Pannolaire pulls away only to smile and laugh at her peer. "Of course they see the sun!" The two chuckle on that point for a moment, before she settles in once again. "Well, actually, there is an interesting phenomenon that occurs at extreme northern latitudes- sunless days- they only happen at select parts of the year though..."

Runalenwe, content to hold her lover's body as she goes into a long tangent about novel astronomical phenomena and the Nordic holidays that coincide with them, closes her eyes and smiles. Her hand slowly traces Pannolaire's side, gentle and unobtrusive, as not to distract her from her speech.

She easily goes on for nearly half an hour, and it's only Runalenwe's reminder of the cooling food that makes her take pause, before the two resume their dialogue. They continue on like this until the sun dips down, embraced by the sea.

[penny-anna]

A Strange Mirror

“I suppose it wouldn’t do to be leaving little witchers around the place, would it.”

“Witchers are sterile.”

“Hm?” Jaskier glanced up from his notes, doing a startled double-take. “What, all of you?”

Jaskier learns something new about witchers.

(on AO3)

The air in the room was thick with the smell of rain from their damp clothes drying by the fire. Their hosts’ voices carried from downstairs, muffled by the walls and the sound of the beating rain. Jaskier sat upon the bed, already changed into dry shirt and breeches and humming to himself as he scratched away in his notebook.

The farmer and his wife had given them a bed for the night and invited them to supper. Geralt didn’t used to get invited to supper. The last few months it had been happening more and more.

“Don’t suppose you could kill something more interesting next time.” Pausing in his scratching, Jaskier glanced up at him and added, “no offence.”

“Interesting?” said Geralt.

“You know,” said Jaskier. “Something a bit sexier than drowners, so I can make a song out of it.” He went back to his notes.

Geralt paused in the act of unlacing his damp shirt. “What kind of monsters do you think are sexy?”

Jaskier drew a line under a significant word in his notes. “Wyverns are pretty sexy.”

“They are?”

“Basilisks,” said Jaskier, gesturing with his quill. “Very sexy.”

Geralt looked at the darkened window. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“Just offering some constructive criticism.” Jaskier took in Geralt’s face and said, “alright. Point taken.” He went back to scribbling, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. “The daughter was making eyes at you.”

“I noticed.”

“She’s pretty.”

Geralt grunted. He’d noticed that too, but he wasn’t about to encourage him.

“Not your type?”

The window rattled in the window. Geralt threw his shirt over the rack by the fire and turning away began to unlace his breeches. Behind him Jaskier’s pen scratched away.

“You must get a lot of that,” he said. “With your whole – thing.”

“A lot of what?” He stepped into his dry breeches.

“You know.” Jaskier drew a meaningful circle in the air with his quill. “Beautiful women making eyes at you. Throwing themselves at you. Terribly grateful to you for –”

“I don’t,” said Geralt, “do that.”

“Right.” Jaskier cleared his throat. He went on writing.

Geralt shrugged on a dry shirt, and laced it. “I’m careful about who I bed,” he said. “Have to be.”

“I see,” said Jaskier. “I suppose it wouldn’t do to be leaving little witchers around the place, would it.”

For a foolish moment Geralt couldn’t grasp what he meant. Then it struck him, and he didn’t know what to say to it. People’s knowledge of his kind was – patchy, and unreliable. It was hard to predict what a person might know, or not know. He had assumed Jaskier knew this. Jaskier did not know this.

He said, “witchers are sterile.”

“Hm?” Jaskier glanced up from his notes, doing a startled double-take. “What, all of you?”

“It’s by design.” He reached for his boots.

“Oh,” said Jaskier. “Oh – I see.” He fidgeted with his quill. His posture, which had been so idle, one leg crossed over the other, one foot drawing lazy circles in the air, was suddenly tense. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.”

Lacing his boots, Geralt didn’t reply.

“I’ll not bring it up again.”

In truth, he didn’t care if Jaskier brought it up again, or didn’t. There were few subjects in the world that had the power to hurt him and this wasn’t one of them.

He said, “hm.”

*

The kitchen was too full of people, too warm and too humid. The family was large enough without two extra bodies crammed in. They were too poor to pay him for clearing their well, so they did their best to make up the debt by filling his belly.

He wasn’t about to complain. He was grateful for Jaskier’s presence, for his keeping the conversation going while he ate. The farmer’s wife and her oldest daughter doted on Jaskier, the whole family hanging off every word of his stories. It was easy for them all to forget who the guest of honour actually was.

When the meal was over and the plates had been cleared, the youngest of the children scrambled into Geralt’s lap, babbling at him cheerfully, eager to tell him all about the farm, to tug on the ends of his hair. The farmer and his wife shot each other nervous looks. They said nothing.

He excused himself early.

Though it was barely nightfall Jaskier came up to bed not long after him, stumbling a little on the stairs and cursing to himself, fumbling with the latch.

“Oh,” he said as he stepped over the threshold, stretching out his arms in an exaggerated yawn. “Oh, it’s been a long day.”

“Hm,” Geralt agreed.

Jaskier was a little tipsy from dinner. His cheeks were pink and he smelled faintly of wood smoke. Stripped down to his shirt, he climbed into bed. He lay alongside Geralt, propped up on one elbow, regarding him intently and clearly not meaning to sleep any time soon.

“Go on, then,” said Geralt to the ceiling.

“Hm?” Jaskier’s eyes were big and innocent.

“You’ve been chomping at the bit all evening.”

“I haven’t.”

“I’d rather you ask than lie there all night making faces at me.”

“I’m not making faces,” said Jaskier, though he was. “And I don’t want to pry.”

“Just,” said Geralt, “ask.”

Jaskier shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “When you say it’s by design,” he said. “What do they do, exactly?” Before Geralt could answer he went on, “I mean, do they – do something to you?”

“Depends what you mean.” He’d lost track of what Jaskier was driving at. Do they do something to you. Of course they did something.

“Well, do they –” Jaskier broke off with a sigh. “Is it a.” He motioned in a way that meant nothing at all. At Geralt’s blank look, his eyes flicked anxiously to his crotch, and it hit him what he was trying to ask. “Do you – have everything you’re –”

“I’ve got all my parts.”

“Oh thank the gods,” Jaskier said in a rush. Geralt snorted. “Don’t you laugh! It’s been worrying me all evening.” He smacked Geralt’s chest by way of chastising him. His hand lingered there, resting on his sternum.

“And it all,” he said after a moment, “works as normal?”

Geralt grunted.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Well.” Jaskier patted his chest. “That’s splendid.”

“I don’t see why you care,” said Geralt.

“Why wouldn’t I care?”

“They’re not your parts.”

“I suppose I just don’t like the idea of a man having his parts tampered with,” said Jaskier. “Is that so wrong?”

“No. I suppose not.” Jaskier was still looking at him, his gaze no less intent for having got an answer to his burning question. He wasn’t used to people looking at him the way Jaskier looked at him. Sometimes the way Jaskier looked at him made him feel stripped bare.

He didn’t hate it.

“So, um,” said Jaskier. “What is it they do, exactly?”

“It’s a by-product of the mutagens.”

“I see,” Jaskier said. “But an – intentional one?”

Geralt grunted an affirmation.

“Now, if you want to stop talking about this, do say so.” Jaskier sat up a little more. “But – I don’t see why.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not – not really. No.”

“Witchers are mutants,” said Geralt. “Any children we had would be mutated. It wouldn’t be pretty.”

“Well, when you put it like that it does sound reasonable.” Jaskier sighed to himself. “But it doesn’t seem fair.”

“How so?”

“People ought to have a choice in these matters,” said Jaskier. “Oughtn’t they?”

“No-one chooses to be a witcher.”

“No,” said Jaskier. “I suppose not.” He clucked his tongue. “Just seems like a pity.”

“Hm?”

“I just can’t help thinking you’d be a good father.”

Geralt turned to look at him, incredulous. “What?” Jaskier shrugged, as if to say, isn’t it obvious? “No. I wouldn’t.”

“I think you would,” said Jaskier.

He wondered, not for the first time, what it was Jaskier saw when he looked at him. He didn’t think Jaskier saw the hero he put in his songs – he was sure Jaskier knew that much of what he wrote was bullshit. But he didn’t think Jaskier saw the truth either. He saw something between fantasy and reality. Jaskier’s eyes were a strange mirror to look into.

“You can’t have a child on the path.”

“Well – leaving the witcher thing aside for a moment –”

“You can’t leave it aside,” Geralt snapped, in spite of himself starting to grow heated.

“Say you could,” said Jaskier, unfazed.

“No-one would want a witcher for a father.”

“Why not?”

You know why, he wanted to say. But Jaskier was pretending not to know. “Witchers are monsters.”

“Oh – yes,” said Jaskier, drawing his brows into a stern mock frown. “You are a truly terrifying monster.”

“Jaskier –”

“I quake in my boots at the sight of your hideous countenance, for you are such a fearful beast and I am so very afraid –”

“Maybe you should be.”

Jaskier cocked his head. “Why?”

So very many reasons, he thought. “I could tear you apart if I wanted.”

“Ah, but you haven’t.” Jaskier patted his chest warmly, as if he’d made a conclusive argument. “You’re in a mood,” he pronounced.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” said Jaskier. “A gloomy one.”

“I’m always gloomy.”

“Untrue,” said Jaskier. “You’re often gloomy but sometimes grim and I’ve known you to be grumpy.”

Geralt grunted at the ceiling.

“Anyway,” said Jaskier, “children aren’t afraid of you. That little one tonight loved you.”

Geralt thought of the way the farmer and his wife had looked at each other when the child had crawled into his lap. “Children aren’t old enough to know better.”

“Or, alternatively, one might say that they’re too young to have been taught to be afraid,” said Jaskier.

“It makes no difference.”

“It makes all the difference.” Jaskier’s hand shifted, sliding up his chest to his shoulder. He took a lock of Geralt’s hair and began idly to twist it around his fingers. “Anyway. I feel safe with you.”

“Do you?”

“Completely safe,” said Jaskier. “What else could you want out of a father?”

“A lot of things.” Geralt looked at Jaskier, bewildered. “Are you trying to say you think of me as a father?”

“What?” said Jaskier. “No. What – no.” Dropping Geralt’s hair as if it was hot he sat up. “Absolutely not. No. Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” It seemed a reasonable enough question to him. He’d never got the impression Jaskier thought of him that way – didn’t like the idea of Jaskier thinking of him that way – but he couldn’t imagine what else he might be driving at.

“It – upsets me,” said Jaskier. “It just does. And this conversation has got wildly off track.”

“Was it ever on track?”

“Briefly.” Jaskier lay back down. “Anyway, please don’t ever suggest that you’re like a father to me again.”

“I wasn’t,” said Geralt. “I thought you were suggesting it.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know,” said Geralt. “I was confused too. What were you trying to say, if not that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Jaskier vaguely. “Look. All I’m trying to say is how sorry I am that that was done to you. It’s not fair.”

The thing of it was, Jaskier wasn’t the first person he’d had to explain this fact of his biology to. He’d had to explain it now and then, mainly in whorehouses, and the reaction, even when not explaining it to women anxious that they might end up carrying a mutant child, had been one of relief or understanding. He’d never had someone express their condolences at the loss before.

He said, “hm.”

Sighing, Jaskier shuffled in closer to him. He draped an arm over his chest. “I wish things were different.”

“If things were different you’d never have met me.”

“True.” Jaskier yawned, a genuine yawn this time. Long minutes passed, and were it not for his breathing Geralt might have thought he had fallen asleep. In the grate the fire was burning down low.

At length, Jaskier said, “what they did to you. Did it hurt?”

Geralt breathed out. “No,” he lied.

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Three: A New Alliance

Both Chishiya x OC or a Chishiya x Reader depending on how you wish to read it.

You can find this - along with the first and second chapters - on AO3 here. The formatting is a little better on AO3, but it’s here if you prefer Tumblr :) 

Thanks for reading! 

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

According to the phone I had picked up in the Jack in the Box game, I had an eight-day visa. That could only mean that the card number of each game was equivalent to the number of days you were awarded on your visa. And the suits? Well, I still hadn’t figured that out just yet.

It was eight days of calm… eight days of sleeping away the burnt singe that came with every breath, and the taste of smoke that lingered on my tongue. But it was eight days that I couldn’t have let go to waste. The day after my win, I visited a deserted bookstore and swiped several Japanese language textbooks off the shelves. I hated the idea of stealing them as they were luxuries, but it wasn’t as if I could pay for them either. Money had no value in this strange, gruesome world.

I picked out the textbooks that I hadn’t been able to afford in my previous life and spent eight days cramming my head with as much Japanese as I could. If I was going to survive, I couldn’t keep going into games with a scrambled-up knowledge of the rules.

But naturally, eight days isn’t enough to learn a language, and far too quickly, my visa was due to expire.

This time, when I left the apartment, I walked further from the city centre to see if the games were spread out right across Tokyo or confined to a limited space. Then I stopped in the middle of the street, the cool night air whipping around me.

A light glared bright on the horizon.

Here we go again.

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

The apartment complex was around seven storeys in height, each floor glaring under blue strip lights. Following the signs once more, I walked up a set of stairs and through the entrance to find ten other figures stood around waiting. A few of them looked at me curiously, probably trying to suss out whether I was new to this or not. Ignoring them, I took a phone from the table in the centre of the room.

‘FACE REGISTRATION IN PROCESS.

PLEASE WAIT FOR THE GAME TO COMMENCE’

Like always, I snuck my way into a corner and let my eyes drift over the players around me. If our lives were on the line, who could I team up with? Who couldn’t I trust?

Trust nobody.

It was a motley crew. There was girl with bobbed hair doing stretches on the floor, a middle-aged woman still clutching her handbag, two hardened men who looked ready for anything, a peculiar man with a hat, two young women who were clearly best friends, a guy dressed in blue who kept asking what was going on, and –

White Hoodie.

He was staring at me from beneath his hood, with that same arrogant smirk decorating his features.

‘I look forward to seeing you again in another game.’

It was almost as if he had planned this.

His staring stirred something uncomfortable within me, as if I were a creature only just noticing too late the eyes of a predator lurking in the foliage. I nodded at him, hoping he would lose interest. And sure enough, it worked, as his features relaxed and his eyes lowered back to the ground.

I let out a shaky breath. Avoid him. Definitely avoid him.

There were footsteps as two tall young men waltzed through the entrance. They looked a little dishevelled and they glanced around anxiously. But from the way they immediately went to the phones, this wasn’t their first game. The strange man in the hat started talking to them, but I tuned out their voices. I needed to focus on the situation at hand.

‘REGISTRATION CLOSED. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.’

The talking hushed as everyone listened closely and peered at their phones.

‘GAME – TAG

DIFFICULTY – FIVE OF SPADES

TIME LIMIT – 20 MINUTES.’

‘RULES –

RUN AWAY FROM THE TAGGER.

FIND THE SAFEZONE IN ONE OF THE ROOMS WITHIN THE TIME LIMIT.

AFTER THIS, THE TIME BOMB HIDDEN IN THE BUILDING WILL EXPLODE.

THE GAME WILL BEGIN IN TWO MINUTES.’

I was almost proud of myself. I had been able to understand more of the grammar this time rather than relying on the select words I could pick up.

The players around me had started moving toward the stairs. And if the game officially began in two minutes, that meant we were able to choose our starting location.

White Hoodie instantly moved towards the elevator, but he was the only one, and I didn’t want to be stuck in there with him.

Instead, I waited a moment, before hopping into the elevator with the two hardened men. Pressing the button for floor seven, I waited for them to choose their floor, but instead they just glanced down at me silently. When the elevator doors opened, I scanned the area for the best place to observe as the two men stepped out in front of me.

A corner would be bes—you’re kidding me.

White Hoodie was in the very corner that I had set my sights on. He was waving, possibly at the two men, possibly at me.

Nope, I thought. I’m not doing this.

I stepped back into the elevator and jabbed the button for floor six. Irritation. That was all I could feel as I made my way to the same corner, one floor down. He’d only gone and taken the safest seat in the house, leaving me no choice but to opt for second-best instead. It’s true, I could’ve taken the seventh-floor corner on the other side of the block, but I’m not sure the two hardened men would’ve wanted a tag along. Perhaps it was stupid or stubborn of me to do this, but I didn’t have the patience to deal with White Hoodie’s psychotic calmness. He would make a smart ally, that’s for sure, but someone like him wouldn’t hesitate to throw someone like me under the bus.

I propped my elbows up on the edge of the walkway, observing the other players as they scattered throughout the building like chess pieces. Some were using the extra time to test the locked doors while they could.

‘Everyone looks like they’re about to die, as usual.’

I groaned and looked up at the ceiling above me. How can I still hear his snarky commentary from all the way down here?

If it weren’t a life-or-death situation, I’d have gone down yet another floor just so I wouldn’t have to listen in. But there was no time for that.

‘GAME START – THE TAGGER IS NOW ON THE MOVE.’

Everyone was silent. I could see them all poised, terrified, waiting, as trumpets filled the air, echoing through the long walkways and staircases. A racing fanfare? I held my breath, waiting for something to happen. For the tagger to make themselves known.

And then, a chime.

The elevator doors opened up. They opened up on floor six – my floor.

My heart jumped at the sight. He was tall, clearly well-built despite being shrouded in a coat. But what was most striking was his head, or should I say, his mask. He was wearing a large mask stylized as a horse head. The racing fanfare suddenly clicked into place… as did something else.

He was holding a submachine gun.

And he was looking right at me.

‘Shit!’

Fueled by adrenaline, I ran to the far edge of the walkway, hoisting myself up onto the balcony as the tagger calmly made his way closer, getting ready to aim. Clasping onto the drainage pipe, which trembled under my weight, I prayed that it wouldn’t collapse to the ground. The metal groaned as I pulled myself up with strength I didn’t know I had.

I heard the bullets before I felt them, a small, sharp whoosh of air that burst across my skin.

I’m almost there! Almost there. Just a little more.

The tagger was leaning out now, growing closer and closer while firing away and missing me only by a hair’s breadth. Soon he’d be close enough to aim properly. Channeling all my energy, I pushed my feet against the pipe joins, trying to pull my body up just a little further.

A hand reached out.

Clinging to the pipe with one arm, I grasped the hand and felt myself being pulled up against the balcony and onto the seventh floor where I rolled to the ground.

The gunshots stopped.

I couldn’t move from where I lay, staring at the roof as I tried to catch my breath. My muscles quivered, shivering with fight or flight.

‘危なかった,’ a familiar voice said. That was dangerous.

My eyes slid over to my rescuer. White Hoodie was leaning against the balcony.

‘でも,’ he continued. ‘感心した.’

I frowned, confused, trying to think back to the textbook I had poured over. The eight days of studying had almost gone to waste.

‘Sorry,’ I said, still a little breathless. ‘I don’t know what that word means.’

He laughed, a short puff of air. ‘It means you’re an idiot,’ he said. ‘You should’ve stayed up here rather than being stubborn.’

I pushed myself up and sat against the wall, as I wasn’t confident I had it in me to stand just yet.

Then, he added, ‘you’re also completely unprepared for a Spades game.’

Oh? So the suit does have something to do with the nature of the games…

I gave him a questioning look, hoping he’d elaborate, but he simply turned around to observe the game going on around us. I didn’t take his dismissal personally. It was hardly the time or place.

It must’ve been a few minutes I spent sitting there before I eventually decided to stand. Now that the adrenaline had passed, my muscles were beginning to ache. But I couldn’t let that keep me from the game; I needed to be able to run if the tagger came up here. I stood next to White Hoodie, observing the players around us.

From the third floor, gunshots and wet gurgled shrieks resounded. Left, right and centre, players flopped, limp as dolls as floor sprayed across the walls. We watched on as the two young women were slaughtered one by one, the second one wasting a perfect opportunity to escape by instead throwing her shoe at the tagger.

‘He was reloading his gun,’ I said, incredulous. ‘She could’ve gotten away so easily.’

Beside me, he made a noise of agreement, then we fell into silence. Even though we only had 20 minutes in total, it seemed to last a lifetime. Things got interesting very quickly when the two disheveled men started running across their floor, one of them shouting that everyone should call out the tagger’s location and help each other.

‘It’s not a bad idea,’ White Hoodie said, ‘but nobody will respond.’

‘You don’t know that,’ I replied. ‘Somebody might.’

At that moment, the girl with the bobbed haircut yelled out, ‘the tagger’s moving! He’s on the fourth level of the central area! Anyone who’s nearby, run!’

At first, I felt a sense of satisfaction that he had been proven wrong. But then the same girl tried to save the middle-aged woman, before leaping off the side of the balcony and climbing a drainpipe with the agility and grace of an expert. I tried not to feel jealous. I tried.

She makes it look so easy. And she did it while dodging all those bullets too.

‘A climber? How interesting…’ White Hoodie mused. Leaning toward me, he added, ‘you see, that’s how you’re supposed to climb things.’

‘Shut up,’ I snapped. ‘I never asked for your opinion.’

He gave me that same condescending look that he had back in the entrance, and I squirmed inside. After that, we returned to silence. I checked the time on my phone. We only had 12 minutes left. It wasn’t long before we needed to head to the safezone, wherever that may be. Eying the guy next to me, I wondered whether he knew exactly where it was but was waiting until the last minute.

Gunshots sounded once again. However, this time they were coming from a floor just below us. The tagger was firing his gun at a door across the walkway on a floor below. In between gunfire, the scared newbie from the beginning peeked his head over the edge of the balcony, before ducking down again in fright.

Something wasn’t right. It was quite a considerable distance for the tagger to shoot, and so far, he had just been shooting anyone he came across at random rather than targeting those on different floors.

Unless… that door behind him.

‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ I said.

White Hoodie nodded and glanced at his phone. He then pulled off his signature hood, revealing his pale hair once more.

‘Should we begin?’

I didn’t like the idea of tagging along behind him, but he seemed to know what he was doing. I clearly couldn’t trust him, but at the same time, he’d helped me up the balcony. He didn’t have to do it, but he had. But then what if it was so he could later use me as a human shield? There were too many what-ifs, and it was impossible to tell whether to consider him an ally.

Up ahead, he stopped. He turned around to where I was still standing, lost in thoughts.

‘Aren’t you coming?’

I won’t trust you, but I’ll stand by you.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

He smirked. ‘Chishiya.’

Somehow, it suited him. And it felt more like an alliance now that I knew his name.

I gave a firm nod. ‘I’m coming, Chishiya.’

Jogging to catch up, I followed behind him as we made our way downstairs. The tagger seemed to be on one of the lower floors, but this didn’t make me any less apprehensive as I stayed a few paces behind Chishiya, unable to stop myself from staring at the white tendrils of his hair that blew back in the breeze.

As we approached the door, another familiar face appeared. It was the disheveled one who’d suggested we all work together. Looking at him up-close, he had a friendly, attractive face, but his hair looked like it’d seen better days.

‘I see you noticed it too,’ Chishiya said.

The man nodded, although he looked unsure. His hand rested on the doorknob, but he didn’t seem willing to go any further.

Chishiya raised a brow. ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’

The man glanced between the two of us, then said slowly, ‘if I was the tagger, I’d have just stayed here. There’s something missing in this game, something we haven’t thought about.’

He had a point. There was likely more to this ‘safezone’ than the rules had specified, just like how one of the codes in the Jack in the Box game had been a lie. There was probably a trap hidden somewhere behind the apartment door.

‘That’s probably true,’ Chishiya agreed, then pulling out his phone, added, ‘but there’s no time.’

He also had a point. There was only three minutes of the game left before the bomb detonated and it was game over for everyone.

The man nodded, and slowly opened the door.

I hid behind Chishiya as the three of us quietly entered. The place was just an empty room, with nothing particularly safeabout it. But at the far end, there was another door. That was probably the real safezone. The three of us made to inspect it –

Click.

Chishiya was pushed aside, his body thrown onto mine as we fell to the ground. Deafening gunshots rained everywhere, marring the walls and ceiling.

A second tagger!  

I felt Chishiya’s weight suddenly leave me as he crawled to his knees. Scrambling out of the way, I saw Chishiya hastily pulled a battered Walkman out of his pocket. To my surprise, he pushed it against the second tagger, and electricity juddered from one end, sparks flying.

No, not a Walkman… a taser!

The moment it touched his skin, the tagger spasmed and jerked before dropping to the ground. Beside me, Chishiya climbed to his feet and offered a hand to pull me up. Together, the three of us stared in amazement between the converted taser and the still body on the floor.

Chishiya inspected his weapon. ‘It’s good to come prepared—’

Bullets burst through the air, the room glowing orange. I barely noticed the hand clamped like a vice around my wrist as my body was dragged outside, the door slamming shut behind us. The metal of the door protruded grotesque as fresh bullets hit, and I glared at Chishiya in disbelief.

‘He’s still in there! We can’t just leave him!’

For the first time, he seemed to be out of breath. ‘Do you want to die?’ he asked dryly.

Then his eyes, suddenly hard and serious, began to drift down further, coming to a stop on my upper arm. I followed his gaze to discover that a large red stain was oozing from my upper arm. Even by the second, the blood was rapidly soaking the fabric of my clothes. Perhaps I should have been panicking. Perhaps the sight should have made me more worried, but it didn’t. If the bomb detonated, we’d be dead, and a gunshot wound wouldn’t matter.

‘I can’t feel it,’ I told Chishiya. It was the truth.

He pursed his lips, staring darkly at the messy red wound. ‘You will soon.’

I sighed. We probably only had about two minutes, if that, to clear the game.

‘Let’s go back inside,’ I suggested. ‘I’ll go in first if you want.’

The scorn on his expression was quite something. Now standing, we both inched the door open, to find the room empty. Or at least, the main room was empty. The door at the back had been forced open, and a series of struggled groans could be heard.

Chishiya went first, creeping towards the doorframe and peering his head around. He whipped back as another wave of bullets scattered across the wall opposite.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked, scanning him over.

‘Of course I am,’ he said. ‘There’s two buttons in there. Two people need to press them to clear the game.’

Should’ve seen this coming. It wouldn’t be so easy.

By now, although I hated to admit it, Chishiya had been right; my arm was just starting to throb. In another few minutes, it would likely become too painful to move freely.

Suddenly there was a crash, and a familiar female voice could be heard inside the room. From what I could remember of her, it was the climber girl. Leaning into the doorway once more, Chishiya hesitated, holding the makeshift taser in his hand.

‘TEN SECONDS REMAINING.’

There’s no time for this!

Snatching the taser from his fingers, I ignored the pulse of pain from my arm and sprinted into the room. Then, ducking low, I shoved the taser into the tagger, feeling the electricity shudder violently through the Walkman and around my fingers.

‘FIVE… FOUR… THREE…’

The tagger slumped against the wall.

‘TWO…’

The man and the climber girl launched themselves across the room.

‘ONE.’

Their palms hit the buttons.

‘GAME CLEAR – CONGRATULATIONS!’

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Sneaking Around | Chapter Twelve

Lysandra’s POV

Lysandra was not giving up. There was no way Aelin was going to reveal her boyfriend before Lys caught them, that she would make certain of. Aelin was smart, very smart. But Lysandra was smarter.

Their office building was not a particularly large one. Not that it wasn’t still many, many people, but she would take all the help she could get.

The bar wouldn’t have fit everybody; they must have only invited certain departments or something; Lysandra couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered; Lys had the guest list.

The bar was rather sizable. It had been reserved for the night, and dozens of people had attended. Only half were men (thank the Gods Aelin wasn’t bi) and these men were then narrowed down.

Aedion had been crossed off the list of course, being Aelin’s brother. The twins and Rowan were with Lys when Aelin got her alibi checked, so there was no way it could be them. Snooping had found one employee on vacation during a time she knew Aelin was at the mystery man’s place.

Lysandra was methodical and believed in exhausting all possibilities, but she was getting desperate. She decided to eliminate the men in a known relationship. She doubted Aelin would carry on with a cheater, and she certainly wouldn’t bring him to a party as her date.

Elide was the receptionist; despite her sweet nature, she knew all the gossip. Lys had coerced her into coming over last night, the only person to show up to her gathering. They had used Elide’s pool of knowledge to eliminate Chaol, Aelin’s ex who was now dating someone named Yrene; Nox, dating some girl whose name they didn’t know; and Ress, newly engaged.

The list being significantly smaller than when it was first made, Lysandra then called all the remaining men and questined them while Elide tried to muffle her giggling in the background.

Laying in bed the next morning, Lysandra thought of those conversations.

“Hello Tern, it’s Lysandra from security. It’s been so long since we’ve talked, and I was just wondering what plans you have for the holidays.”

A dozen phone calls later, Lysandra was stumped. Why? Because every single one of them was going to their parents’.

Yes, they might have lied. But if that was the case, she couldn’t trust a single conversation. She had gone over every possibility with Elide and they had agreed: it was time for a stakeout.

-

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Elide asked, sitting next to Lysandra in the latter’s car in Aelin’s parking lot the night after yesterday’s meeting.

Lys rolled her eyes. “Of course it is. We agree we need to find out who it is. So close to the party - and to you leaving for your parents’ place with Lorcan - lists just aren’t going to cut it anymore. I honestly wish I’d done this sooner. And if you’re going to have doubts, walk home and I’ll do it myself.”

“No, no, I’ll stay.” When Lysandra grinned at Elide, El elaborated, “Just to keep matters in control if you insist on doing it even if I leave.”

“If you say so.” Lys knew Elide just had to find out almost as much as she did, and her paltry excuses weren’t cutting it.

“Um. What now? Do you even know?”

Lysandra giggled. “I work in security. Of course I know.”

“Does the security department usually involve themselves in stakeouts?”

“Well, no, but... It can’t be too hard to figure it out. We just sit. And watch. And wait.”

Elide frowned. “I have to pee.”

A sigh from Lysandra. “There’s a gas station down the street if it’s an emergency. Otherwise, suck it up.”

“If Aelin’s car isn’t here, why are we expecting her boyfriend to show up?”

“She might have a change of clothes or whatever, but even so, Aelin can’t stay there forever. She might come back, whether it’s to stay or pick something up or whatever. If the dude isn’t with her, we’ll follow her when she leaves again.”

“Do you do that in the security department too?” asked Elide with a smirk. Who knew sweet El was even capable of smirking?

“Shut up. Job or no, I am a pro. I watch true crime.”

Elide giggled. “You’re so weird.”

“What, it’s good. And let’s be honest, we’ve been waiting for ten minutes and we’re both bored out of our minds. Let’s try to figure out the situation.”

Before Elide could ask what she was talking about, Lys pulled out her phone and pressed Ansel’s contact. She put the phone on speaker so Elide could hear as it rung.

“Hi Lys. What’s up?”

“Hey Ansel. I’ve been watching reality TV for three hours and I need a good gossip. I’m assuming you won’t tell me about MM?”

“MM?”

“Mystery Man. My new moniker for him.”

“Oh. No, certainly not. I will say, though, that Fenrys just left and last night Aelin and MM came to watch a movie with us.”

Elide gasped and Lys elbowed her. “Is that so? How was it?”

Ansel laughed. “If was fine for the most part. They made out for, like, ten straight minutes though. Either they wanted to annoy me or they’re the horniest couple I’ve met. Or maybe both.”

Lysandra frowned. “I can’t believe I wasn’t there. You and Fen really watched a movie with them?” Before Ansel could reply, Lys continued. “She’s at his place now, I’m guessing?”

“Where else?” Ansel sounded exasperated. “I don’t see her on weekends. I might not even see her until after Christmas now. I’m not much better, though. I’ve spent the last few days with Fenrys.”

Trying to steer the conversation back on track, Lysandra said, “She’ll be there for a while, I’m guessing?”

“I have no clue. Actually, wait, I think she’s coming sometime tonight to get her laptop. She wants to get some work done and she forgot it.” Interesting. “I hope you’re not considering a stakeout,” Ansel teasingly said. “We were worrying about that last night. Oh, wait, I hope I didn’t just give you any ideas.”

Lysandra laughed. “I not desperate enough for a stakeout just yet. Gods, that would be so boring.” Elide covered her mouth, probably to avoid laughing.

The two good-naturedly chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up.

“So,” said Lys. “Aelin’s coming tonight. We are very lucky people.”

“Yes we are. Shit, I really have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Lysandra dug out some dollar bills and handed them to Elide. “Get some snacks while you’re at it. I’m starving. I feel so stupid for forgetting food. That’s the number one rule of having a stakeout.”

-

One hour later, Lysandra was just nearing the bottom of a Cheetos bag when a familiar car pulled into the parking lot.

“Duck,” Lys whispered to Elide.

Elide complied, and then asked, “Why are we whispering?”

“It’s cooler. Okay, I don’t see anyone else in the car. It’s hard to tell because it’s so dark, but yeah, just Aelin. So we wait until she drives off and then we follow.”

“I feel like this is illegal,” commented Elide.

“It might be.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

Lysandra smiled wickedly. “I haven’t felt so exhilarated in years. We need to do this more often.”

Elide giggled at this. “I feel like some sort of private detective.”

Just then, Aelin emerged from the staircase. Lysandra waited until she had driven a fair distance before pulling out after her. The dark was advantageous in that Aelin wouldn’t see them well.

They soon pulled up at a different parking lot. There was something about this place that Lysandra recognized, but in the dark it was impossible to tell.

“Is it just me, or is this place familiar?” Elide wondered.

“You’ve just voiced my own thoughts. Maybe we’ll realize what it is when it��s light.”

“Um, are we going to be here that long?”

“We can’t just follow her in.”

“Why not?”

Lysandra frowned. “I want to see that smirk wiped off her face when she thinks she’s won but realizes we already knew. That requires more patience than barging in there. Anyways, we’ve lost her, and we can’t very well knock on every door.”

“Why not?”

“Stop asking questions. We just can’t.”

A sigh from Elide. “Pass me the gummy bears.”

-

They stayed up all night. Telling stories, pinching each other, whatever it took. Lysandra even ran down to another gas station and grabbed some coffees.

Lysandra was telling a particularly ghastly story about Lorcan, and Elide was gasping about her boyfriend’s uncouth behavior, when Lysandra spotted a figure out of the corner of her eye.

People had been walking by all morning (dawn had just passed), so Lys wasn’t expecting it to be anyone important. But what she saw had her dropping her jaw. “Holy. Fucking. Gods.”

“What?” Elide turned and gasped. “Ohmigosh ohmigosh ohmigosh-”

Lysandra clapped a hand over Elide’s mouth. “Hush. They’ll hear.”

She pulled out her cell phone and snapped a picture. Of Aelin with her tongue jammed down Rowan Whitethorn’s throat and his hand on her ass. Holy hell. Another picture as they broke apart, where both faces were clearly visible.

Elide appeared to be trying not to scream. “But. I can’t. They hate each other!”

“Apparently not anymore,” was Lysandra’s dry reply.

Rowan reached for Aelin’s arm and walked with her to his own car. Maybe out to one of the cafes Aelin liked to frequent.

Lys and Elide had been very lucky that Aelin had gone home last night, and now that she and MM - Rowan - were going out somewhere now. And that they had decide to make out right in the line of Lysandra’s phone camera. Yes, they had been very lucky indeed.

“Now what?” asked Elide, seeming to have calmed down.

“Now we swear everyone to secrecy and tell them, just to spite those two-faced worms. Rowan went to my first meeting, you know. A spy, no doubt.”

“We tell everybody?”

Lysandra thought for a minute. “Well, Ansel and Fenrys already know, not to mention they might tattle. I suppose I’ll take mercy on Aelin and let her tell Aedion herself. I want to see Manon’s reaction at the party, so we’ll leave her out of it. Vaughan already left for the holidays, so he’ll have to find out later. Lorcan, Gavriel, and Connall we’ll tell though.”

“Okay.”

The three men were called and told they needed to come to Lysandra’s apartment immediately. They were all instructed not to tell anyone of their whereabouts.

Gathered in Lys’ small living room not too much later, Lorcan said, “Alright, do I really need to ask you ladies why we’re here?”

Elide smiled. “We have news.”

“But,” Lys intervened, “None of you may share this information with anyone. Not a single soul.”

“Why?” asked Connall.

“Just swear it,” Elide commanded.

Lysandra added with a smirk, “On your lives.”

They all rolled their eyes, but swore to stay quiet.

“We know who Aelin’s been sneaking around with,” Elide dramatically announced.

The men had various reactions: Connall gasped, Lorcan smirked, and Gavriel sighed. “Do I even want to know how you’ve come about this information?” asked Gav.

“No, you most certainly do not,” Lys replied. Then she pulled out her phone and showed them the first picture of Aelin and Rowan making out. The angle wasn’t as good as what Lys and Elide had been able to see, so the only distinguishable feature was the hair. While typically silver, Rowan’s hair had caught the light, making it more blonde-like. That did little to narrow down the suspects. They still couldn’t tell who Aelin was with.

“Um, very exciting, but who exactly is that?” questioned Connall.

Wordlessly, Lysandra swiped the screen, moving on to the photo of Aelin and Rowan pulling back and looking at each other.

Shocked expressions graced all of their faces. “What the freakin’ hell. What the holy fucking shit. What the-”

Lorcan was interrupted from his tirade by Gavriel, who just said, “Wow.”

Connall started to laugh darkly. “Those fucking assholes. I’m going to beat the shit out of them. And my brother. Shit, my brother knew?”

Elide smiled. “Yes, I’m afraid both Fenrys and Ansel were aware. They even watched a movie with the two of them a couple days ago.”

“Traitorous pieces of shit. You know, I think I’m content to watch this play out. Aedion doesn’t know?” Connall asked.

“No,” answered Lys with a smile on her face. “And don’t worry,” she added. “I’ll fill you all in on the details of the party. I can’t wait.”

[darthspideys]

antithesis // five

din djarin x jedi! reader

summary: You expected to find another of yoda’s species, much less under the protection of a particularly stubborn mandalorian. Little do you know its that discovery that will change life as you know it, and put all three of you in danger you never saw coming.

words: ~2k

a/n: So yeah basically I post when I want so you should follow me if you wanna see the next chapter :) Update on how long this thing is even gonna be, right now I have 7 chapters separated with what I have currently and my current ending I’m looking at 8 or 9 but todays episode has given me some inspiration that I’m not sure if I want to include in the story, or in a bonus (more on bonuses later) or in a sequel/spinoff so stay tuned. 

disclaimer: I h8 baby yoda and it shows

He steps back, and then he looks at your hands, “You’re bleeding.” 

“What?” 

“You’re hands.” 

Your hands are bleeding, cut from the strikes that you pelted your opponent with. You sigh as the adrenaline fades to reveal the stinging in your hands. “They are.” 

He does the head tilt that you’ve become used to again, and the child’s pod comes floating up behind him. “Let’s go back to the ship,” He says, “I’ll take care of it.” 

It’s when you’re back on the ship that you sit back and realize how tired you are. He appears in front of you and sits starting to wash out the cuts on your hands. It’s silent for a long time. He sees that you're off in your own world again, not even noticing his presence and he desperately wants to know why. 

“What did you mean when you said you should’ve killed her?” He asks finally.

The sound of his voice snaps you back into the present and you sigh, suddenly wincing at the sharp pain in your hand. “Isn’t that self explanatory?” You say, trying to keep the energy that you usually have. It fails flat and you both know it. He tilts his head again, which seems to be his go to expression of emotion. “I grew up on a farm out in the middle of nowhere on a planet in the middle of nowhere. My father and I would walk to the small town nearby, and one day we showed up and it was on fire. Buildings were burning, people were dead in the middle of the street, and she stood right in the middle of it. She came because she was looking for him and they both knew it.” 

“She killed him,” He finishes after you pause. 

“He gave up,” You correct him, “I saw it, he was more talented than her but he gave up. It was probably seeing everything broken like that, and thinking that it was his fault that sent him over the edge.” You try and stop a wave of emotions and start wondering why you're even saying any of this in the first place. It would’ve been so much easier to lie. “Obviously I tried to kill her, and I thought I did but clearly I did not.” 

You lapse into silence as he begins wrapping the palms of your hands. At first he decides that he’s not going to say anything, but as the time draws on his curiosity gets the better of him. “What is she?”

“A sith,” You explain. “If Jedi are the enemy of the Mandalorians, then the Sith are our enemy. They are force users who use their abilities to gain power and evil, usually they’re ruthless and have been corrupted by the dark side.” He doesn’t say anything for a while and you suddenly feel very self conscious, you shrug, “Their lightsabers are usually a bit cooler however.” 

You can’t tell if he knows you're trying to make a joke. More silence, more wrapping of your hands, and you're suddenly aware of how close you are to him. Another thing you’ve recently become aware of: the fact that he’s taken his gloves off, and you are experiencing uninterrupted hand to hand contact. It makes you feel a way you can’t describe, but it’s not the feelings you had for him before. 

“Tell me about the Jedi,” He says suddenly. 

It catches you a little off guard, but you indulge him anyway. “The Jedi live by a code, like Mandalorians, but it’s based on two opposing forces coexisting but one being stronger than the other. Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.” 

“Sounds hypocritical.” 

“It’s practical,” You tell him. “No one extreme can exist on it’s own, they all exist with each other, sometimes all inside of one person,” He thinks he knows who you're talking about. “Granted, the Mandalorian code is clearer and by some accounts more interesting but there's a reason they’ve been at war for so long.” 

“When we are attacked, we retaliate.” 

“And so do jedi, but there’s something to be said for compromise. Not that I’m the best example of that, or any of the teachings really but from the outside looking in the goal is to compromise where you can and when there’s no room to try and bring people together then you have to stand your ground.” 

He tilts his head again, “You don’t compromise much.” 

“In practice, I’ve found that people don’t respond to compromise as well as the teaching would hope they would.” 

“You’ve made it sound even more hypocritical,” He says. 

You sigh, “The universe isn’t black and white, Mando.” 

“It’s Din,” He says suddenly, “My name is Din Djarin.” 

You smile, “The world isn’t black and white, Din.” You continue, “A lot of things and a lot of people are a mess of contradictions.” 

“Including you,” He says. 

You nod quickly, “Especially me.” 

You have another moment, something passes between the two of you and the silence is no longer tense. You’ve been fighting with him since the moment you met him, and now you're not fighting and you don’t want to fight verbally or physically. Which is something. 

He finishes, and he stands to walk back to the cockpit. “They’re not as different as you think, Mandalorians and Jedi.” He turns back to look at you, “We’re both stubborn.” 

That makes him laugh. 

There’s something familiar about the way that makes you feel, and it gives you an idea. “I know you don’t want to go to Chandrila, but if laying low is the plan, I know a place.”

[roiscrying]

TOLERATE IT - draco malfoy x hufflepuff reader

inspired by taylor swift’s tolerate it

words: 2.6k

warnings: alluding to attempted suicide, swearing

“Y/N,”

“Hm” you looked up, meeting Hannah’s worried eyes,

“I’ve been calling your name for like five minutes, what’s up, and don’t lie, you know I can see right through it” Hannah piped up. The honey blonde haired girl had been your best friend since you transferred to the school and it was true, you could see right through each other, but you didn’t want to tell her, you knew what her response would be.

“Just thinking,”

“Bullshit, it's about Draco isn’t it” your heart skipped a beat at the mention of the blonde haired boy, your eyes leaving hers and instead flickering to his figure flying around the field. “Y/N, I’m tired of you putting up with his bullshit. You’re worth so much more than that boy gives you.”

“I know but” you trailed off,

“But what”

“He’s busy you know, with school, the team, his dad-”

“Y/N, if he cared he would make time,”

“Hannah can we drop it”

“I care about you Y/N, and seeing you like this is destroying me. You’re giving so much to that boy and what does he give you back? When was the last time he even started a conversation with you? Huh? He spends more time with Parkinson than you-”

“They’re in the same house”

“They’re not dating Y/N, you’re missing the point. You can’t keep making excuses, I’m tired of you letting him walk all over you, you need to break up with him.” You felt your stomach twist. She had mentioned the idea of breaking up with him before but it was always in a joking manner, it was clear she never liked him, but she had tried to put that aside once she learned of your relationship.

“Hannah, he’s just busy, over the summer-”

“Y/N I don’t care what he was like over the summer, it matters what he’s like right now, this is the real Draco, he doesn’t care about anyone who isn’t going to give him something. Y/N, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest. Did he even check up on you?”

“I- he doesn’t even know Hannah,”

“And why is that,”

“I didn’t want to worry him”

“Y/N. He’s your boyfriend, you can’t keep these things from him..”

“Hannah-” you warned, your eyes starting to blur,

“Y/N he didn’t even ask where you were did he, after you were missing for a week-”

“Hannah drop it” you hissed, the tears that had welled up in your eyes threatening to spill.

“Fine Y/N. You know I’m only doing this because I care about you. Just, promise me you’ll talk to him, you’re worth more than this” you nodded softly, glancing back at the field as the students erupted in shouts as the time ran out and Slytherin were declared the winners. A faint smile crossed your face but the pit in your stomach prevented it from being as wide as it would normally be. You knew everything Hannah said was true, it was all you could think about for the past few days. As much as you hated it, it felt like Draco didn’t care about you at all, just simply tolerating you. You let your feet guide you down the field and to benches that lay outside the Slytherin’s changing rooms.

A laugh escaped your mouth as you dashed down the hall, the halls silent except for the sound of your footsteps and those of the boy who was chasing after you. You gasped as you felt his arms snake around you spinning you so you were pinned up against the wall, his cold palms soon meeting yours and pushing them playfully against the stone behind you he let out a soft laugh that sent butterflies to your stomach as you lifted your eyes to meet his, “Gotcha”

“Oh no,” you smirked, unable to help yourself as your gaze fell to his lips, the corners were tilted up to form a gentle smile, one that only seemed to appear when you were alone together. As your gaze wandered back up to his eyes you became aware of how close you were to each other, your faces only inches apart as he closed what remained of the small gap between your bodies. Your eyes flickered back to his lips once more before he let out another soft laugh,

“Got something on your mind Y/L/N?” he asked playfully, lips only inches away from yours.

“Malfoy, Y/L/N!” a voice echoed down the halls, breaking you out of the moment as his eyes widened, body stiffening. The two of you shared a look before breaking apart. You felt his fingers lace through yours as he took off down the hallway, pulling you along down the stairs as you lifted your other hand to your mouth to muffle the giggles that you couldn’t stop from escaping your mouth. When you first met Draco you never imagined him as the type to be doing any of this. He seemed like he had a stick up his ass and you dreaded the classes you shared. It was only several weeks in, when you were assigned to work on a project together, that you saw the real Draco. The first few meetings were unbearably awkward and torturous, but once he saw a certain piece of wood sticking out of your bag, you realized you had more in common than you initially believed. You had been raised mainly in the muggle world, by parents who wanted to keep you sheltered and protected from the apparent dangers of the Wizarding World, opting to enroll you in muggle schools and homeschool you on any and everything magic related. It was only early this year that they decided to let you enroll in Hogwarts in the fall as a Sixth year. Draco had a much different upbringing, being completely immersed in the Wizarding World. He had been a student at the acclaimed school, since he was a first year. The thing that brought you together though, was your enrollment in a full summer program at a university. Draco had apparently been enrolled in it as his parents believed, as much as they disliked the idea of him spending three months in the muggle world, that he needed to be less completely reliant on magic in his everyday life. That, and he apparently had earned an unsatisfactory grade in his muggle studies class. You, on the other hand, was eager to enroll as you were interested in the academics and opportunities the program offered. Once the two of you overcame your original impressions of each other and got to know each other, you were inseparable, constantly breaking program rules to sneak out to hang out together after classes were over. You let out a squeak as you missed a step, breaking you out of your thoughts and sending you right into Draco who had luckily reached the bottom of the staircase.

“Can’t help but fall for me eh?” he raised an eyebrow and you sighed,

“Shut up, and move it, unless you wanna get another detention with Ms. P” he didn’t need more encouragement than that because he again took off down the hallways, only stopping when the two of you reached the supply closet and had shut the door with you inside.  

“Luminos” he whispered and the tip of his wand slowly illuminated, allowing you to see the trapdoor on the floor. Being such an old building, the place had plenty of secret areas unnoticable to the average person, however you had discovered the place earlier in the summer when running from another teacher. Once he had pulled open the door he descended down the ladder, you following quickly after and closing the door after. A soft laugh escaped your mouth as Draco mumbled a spell causing the candles against the walls to illuminate, revealing the hidden library. You had been so fascinated with the amount of books that lined the walls, despite having seen it numerous times before, that you didn’t realize Draco sneaking up behind you until you were again spun around and pinned against the wall,

“Draco,” you whined as a small smile spread across his features,

“Where were we Miss Y/L/N” He didn’t let you answer before you felt his lips press against yours, his arms wrapping around your back as you squeaked in shock. He pulled away for a second, his eyes flashing with worry, clearly afraid he had done something wrong but you quickly gave him an answer, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him down closer to you, and pressing your lips against his.

The summer was like a dream, sneaking around during the night, passing each other playful notes during classes, and sharing chaste kisses in the hallways. Everything had changed when the school year started, he got more distant. It just got worse as the year progressed, he got more and more unreachable, going days without talking to you, and when you did talk he would make your exchanges brief, always seeming to have something better to do. It was almost as if you were a secret, and while it was somewhat common knowledge in your year that you were a thing, that was only because of the kiss you shared when you first arrived after having not seen each other for a few weeks. It was like once you stepped foot into the building some switch flipped and he became like the boy you met at the beginning of the summer, especially when you was sorted as a hufflepuff, you had always thought you would get sorted into that house, however he had seemed to convince himself over the summer that you would be a Slytherin like him. It was almost like the day he asked you to be his girlfriend didn’t exist, like you had only met in passing and you weren’t worth his time.

“Y/L/N” you looked up and met eyes with Blaise who wore a confused expression on his face,

“Zabini” you responded, “Draco said he’d meet me after the game-”

“Well he must’ve forgotten, he left a bit ago, I think he’s just on his way back to the common room though, so if it’s important I bet you could still catch him”

“Of course” you mumbled, “Thanks Blaise,”

“No problem,” you nodded starting to move when you heard him speak up again, “and off the record Y/N, you deserve better”

“So I’ve been told” you spoke and you winced as it came out much harsher than you intended. you weren’t angry at him, no, you were angry at Draco, for putting you in this situation, for leading you on and then treating you like this.  

_________

“Malfoy” you called as you caught sight of him walking down the hallway,

“Y/L/N, I’m busy” the boy paused, turning to face me. You raised an eyebrow scoffing at his reaction,

“We were supposed to meet after the game”

“Oh” he shrugged, trying to turn back around but before he could you grabbed his shoulder and roughly turned him around.

“Malfoy we need to talk. Now.” you stated plainly and he raised an eyebrow, “I’m tired of this shit”

“What are you talking about Y/N”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You left me waiting outside the changing rooms,” Draco went to say something but you cut him off, “It’s not just that. You need to cut this bullshit Malfoy, I’ve put up with this shit for far too long. And something needs to change, I try my damn best to be here for you and what do I get in return? Nothing. Maybe acknowledgment.”

“Y/N-”

“No Malfoy, let me talk. I give you so much and you just fucking tolerate it, you act like you’re so above me, and you know I really thought I knew you during the summer, I thought we were on the same page, but not with you acting like this.”

“Y/N I-”

“No” you snapped at him, “I need an answer now, if it’s all in my head just tell me now. Tell me if I’ve got this wrong somehow. I know my fucking worth Malfoy. I’ve put up with so much of your bullshit because I never wanted to upset you or do anything to inconvenience you, and you just tolerate me? While you were out there having fun with your friends, without a care in the world, where was I? Did you ever even think to check in on me, because last I checked, when people are dating they care about each other,” you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes,

“Y/N” another voice called, and you turned to see Daphne rushing towards you, “I heard what happened at the astronomy tower Y/N and I just wanted to say if you need anything anytime I’m always here for you,” you tensed up at her words but ultimately gave her a weak smile, hoping she’d leave it alone, “you are never alone Y/N, even if you feel like there’s no escape there’s always another option you don’t have to resort to-”

“Thank you, Daphne” you cut the slytherin off, “I appreciate it” she looked a bit shocked at your outburst but eventually nodded and continued towards the commons room.

“Y/N what was she talking about” Draco’s voice spoke up softly,

“It doesn’t matter Malfoy, it's over now, you didn’t seem to notice when I was missing from classes then so why would it matter now,”

“Y/N don’t try to avoid this”

“Draco, I’ve tried so hard to be the best I can be but what am I in your life? What part do I get, because it seems like I’m barely an afterthought” you were shouting by now, your voice cracking as tears threatened to fall

“Y/N what happened in the astronomy tower”

“I’m always just taking up too much space or time, you assume I’m fine but what would you do if I-”

“Y/N” he yelled cutting you off,

“Draco why don’t we break up, get this weight off both our shoulders, just tell me if I’ve got it wrong, if it was all a lie”

“Y/N his voice sounded hurt and you shut your eyes tightly as you braced for what he would say next, “i-i’m sorry” he sputtered out. The words came as shock, as in all your time knowing him he had never once apologized, it just wasn’t in his nature. “Y/N, I’ve been such an idiot, my father, and school, and the team, but those are just excuses, I-” he paused and you opened your eyes to see him coming towards you, slowly he took your hand and while part of you was telling you to fight it, you just didn’t have the energy to stop him. He swiftly pulled you into a room you assumed was an extra classroom as he did a charm on the door to ensure no one would barge in, “I’m afraid of losing you,” he spoke and you couldn’t help but scoff, “Y/N, anyone I let close gets hurt,”

“Oh don’t be scared of hurting me” you spat without really thinking before averting your gaze to the ground

“Y/N, you mean so much to me, the days we spent together over the summer were the best days of my life, I just, I-, I don’t even know, I’ll change though, I’m still the same person you met then, I’ll prove it to you love-” he paused and you watched as his body came into your view, his hands taking yours, “I need you to tell me what happened in the astronomy tower”

[whentherewerebicycles]

some thoughts that might seem unrelated but aren’t, i promise:

— in that atomic habits book I read a couple weeks back the author talks about using a specific, action-oriented question repeated throughout the day to help you build or break habits (like “what would a physically fit person do?” or “what would a sober person do?”).   

— the aging books i was reading last month noted that people who score high in conscientiousness (on the Big Five personality traits) tend to age most successfully ie enjoy the longest stretch of active years. to quote this article, conscientiousness is “a fundamental personality trait—one of the Big Five—that reflects the tendency to be responsible, organized, hard-working, goal-directed, and to adhere to norms and rules...Conscientiousness comprises self-control, industriousness, responsibility, and reliability. A conscientious person is good at self-regulation and impulse control. This trait influences whether you will set and keep long-range goals, deliberate over choices, behave cautiously or impulsively, and take obligations to others seriously.” I tend to score very high in openness but very, very low in conscientiousness. more on this in a bit...  

— my sister and i were talking recently about different kinds of intelligence, and also about core values. one of hers is efficiency, a word that i have all kinds of negative associations with lol but that she explained in ways i found really intriguing. for her efficiency isn’t about, like, Maximizing Productivity for Capitalism but is about methodically searching for the most effective, least confusing or redundant, most easily-communicable-to-others way to solve complex problems. when she encounters a system that has all kinds of weird bottlenecks or inefficient, time-consuming ways of completing a task (esp if the rationale for those methods is just “well.. that’s how we’ve always done it”), she starts immediately examining the larger structures and workflows around those bottlenecks to see if the established ways of doing things can be rerouted or simplified, and then she constructs new protocols or tools for people to use instead of the old inefficient way of working. efficiency will never be a core value of mine, in part because i think my humanities-oriented brain accords more value than her STEM/medicine-oriented brain does to wandering, daydreaming, slowed-down thinking, doubling-back or retracing one’s steps, and other “inefficient” modes of thinking that slow down the process but can lead you in unexpected directions or spark unanticipated epiphanies that illuminate the larger structures differently. i think we both share a keen interest in systems-level thinking and in examining whether established ways of doing things are the most effective ways of doing things, but we prioritize different modes of thinking and problem-solving in figuring out how to alter or redesign those larger systems (which is probably a result of temperament differences + our field-specific training).

THAT SAID, i have been thinking a lot about how one area of my own intelligence i would like to sharpen/hone in both my professional and personal life is like... a mode of intelligence that is linked to rigor, a more methodical approach to problem-solving, and the ability to construct & more methodically test detailed mental schemas. not quite sure how to articulate that but i feel like my thinking has gotten a little fuzzier than i want it to. and I think maybe this sensed fuzziness in thinking is linked to some of my ongoing feelings of restless discontent re: work. I also just in general want to be more conscientious in how I approach and solve problems, or in how I tackle big and small projects.

— this is more tangentially connected but: i feel like one thing i’ve noticed this year is that a lot of the people i admire professionally are really good at seeking out & taking on lots and lots of additional challenges or commitments, and they can do this in part because they tend to be very conscientious people, ie people who have big-picture vision but are also very detail-oriented and good at managing their time effectively & doing things efficiently so they can take on multiple projects without feeling overwhelmed. i feel like my own low-conscientiousness means that i can’t take full advantage of my high-openness—often i want to take on new projects or challenges but i worry that i’ll overextend myself or that the project will become more time-consuming than i anticipate. i think is linked to a different sort of fuzziness, ie a lack of clarity about how long things take or how much time i have — all combined with a deeply ingrained sense of myself as someone with executive dysfunction issues (poor time management, poor planning skills, poor organizational abilities, etc.). i think of myself as a very inefficient and extraordinarily disorganized person, whether this is 100% accurate or not, and that can sometimes lead to me taking myself out of the running for opportunities or limiting the number of projects i take on out of a fear that i won’t be disciplined enough to see them through.

— another thing my sister and i were talking about recently is how within large families, siblings tend to get assigned a “role” or a personality within the family dynamic very early on, and then they get sort of locked into that over time. everyone in the family expects them to always behave in that way, and there’s often a lot of unconscious resistance to letting your family members change or grow or develop in ways that contradict the clearly defined family role that’s been assigned to them, or the family “story” that everyone else in the family tells about them. you can get locked into both positive and negative roles—or like, often the positive role has a negative flipside. we were talking about how within our family, i’ve been “assigned” to be the “deep thinker” ie the introspective one who spends my life writing and thinking and daydreaming, whereas my sister has been assigned the role of being most like my father, ie very methodical, analytical, unemotional, and action-oriented (and therefore not introspective or inward-looking). and we were talking about how both of these have a negative flipside: my sister feels like she doesn’t get to be a “deep thinker,” or an introspective, emotionally intelligent person; whereas i feel like in my family’s story for me i am forever in “lalaland,” as my mom always says—head in the clouds, an ineffectual dreamer, the absentminded professor who has lots of big thoughts and feelings but is incapable of bringing any of my fantastical ideas to fruition because i have very little practical knowledge or stick-to-itiveness.  

— as i’ve said many times before, i feel like i can’t solve the big-picture issues with my job right now, since so many of them are linked to shitty pandemic realities. but i was thinking that maybe one way to begin laying the groundwork for this final year in my job might be to work on strengthening my conscientiousness at the micro-level, ie in small everyday habits and interactions. my hope is that maybe by practicing conscientiousness in lots of small, low-stakes situations, i can start strengthening those muscles and building trust in myself as “the kind of person who does ____” (which i feel like is necessary for me to begin challenging the family story i’ve internalized what i am like). i mean, there is a lot of truth to that family story! but i bet that those aspects of my personality are nowhere near as inflexible or as like, divinely preordained as i have often assumed they are. like, i bet that through practice & through building better habits i can actually become significantly more conscientiousness (reliable, responsible, hardworking, efficient, good at follow-through, self-disciplined, etc) than i am now. and while efficiency may never be as central a value for me as it is for my sister, i think there is probably a way for me to see efficiency and conscientiousness as linked to my own core values, if only because those qualities or traits will allow me to better enact/embody my core values. so i think i can see it not as working against the grain of my personality, but as working to build out less-developed parts of my personality to strengthen the parts of my character that i value most.

— anyway this is all to say that for the last week i’ve been asking myself aloud “what would a conscientious person do?” multiple times a day, really any time i find myself at a small crossroads where i have to make a small decision. do i pick up that piece of cardboard and put it in the recycling bin now or leave it till later? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i return that call from the plumber now or put it off until later? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i take two minutes to pay that $4 toll bill now or put it on the giant stack of “tasks i will definitely deal with when i’m in the mood to deal with them,” where it will inevitably become a $25 and then $50 bill because i forgot about it and now have to pay late fees? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i comment on that student’s draft now when i’d rather be on the couch scrolling through social media? (i could probably do it tomorrow, when i have another block of free time, but what would a conscientious person do?) i have no idea if it will work in the long term!! but it’s been an intriguing experiment so far, mostly because i think it is teaching me that many of the tasks i build up in my head as incredibly time-consuming are actually quite quick, and once you finish them you also free up all the mental energy you were putting into procrastinating on them, and are better able to move onto the next thing. i also feel like it is teaching me that uhh maybe a conscientious person is not like, a completely different species of human being, but just a person who has different habits or patterns of response to daily choices than i do. that feels important too: if we are what we repeatedly or habitually do, then changing what i habitually do can probably change the kind of person i am!   i’m finding that there’s something very useful about the simplicity of the question, too. deliberately posing the question to myself interrupts my habitual, unconscious response (which is always some version of “i don’t have the energy to deal with that / don’t want to expend that energy right now -- i’ll put it off till later”) -- it requires me to stop and focus my attention on the present situation instead of sliding right past it without thinking about it. and there’s also something quite satisfying about framing it as a choice or a decision: i get to choose what to do, ie i get to exercise agency, and exercising agency makes your brain feel happy (we like to feel in control! we like making choices!). so throughout the day i get to experience lots of little bursts of whatever gets released in the brain when you make a decision and immediately follow through with it, and i think/hope that this kind of positive reinforcement is helping to strengthen those circuits and lay down the groundwork for new patterns of habitual response. 

those are some thoughts this morning!! now i am going to allow myself a few minutes of sloth lol and then i’ll get up and exercise.

[cami-chats]

The Pattern Of Sleep

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Tony Stark/Natasha Romanov

Warnings: None

On AO3

"Do you never sleep?" Natasha asked, lounging in a spare rolling chair a few feet away with her wings over the back and leisurely falling so the tips of her feathers skimmed the floor. "It has been quite some time since I last had a charge, but I think you are still supposed to sleep more than this."

"You're only guessing," Tony said.

"I am creating a hypothesis based on what I remember. Staying awake for fifty hours seems a little extreme."

"You're fine," he pointed out. Because where he was mainlining coffee, Natasha didn't require food, water, or sleep and she wasn't flagging in the slightest.

"I am not a human," Natasha said. "I sleep when my charge sleeps."

Okay so maybe she did sleep. And come to think of it, he'd seen her snacking on an apple the other day, but he was pretty sure she didn't need it regularly the way humans did.

"And I think you are sleeping less than you are supposed to."

"A good guess, but you're wrong," Tony said. She'd probably believe him, but she wasn't as trusting as he thought guardian angels should be. Although, with how much he lied to her in an attempt to not have to change how he worked, maybe it was for the best that she didn't always take him at his word. If nothing else, he could appreciate how hard he made her job and the way she seemed to have magically nudged him into making better decisions on occasion. Magically, he was sure, because he did not decide to stop drinking all by himself.

Natasha hummed and said nothing.

*

"Do you survive solely on coffee?" Natasha asked, peeking over his shoulder to look at the four empty coffee cups on the cafe table in front of him.

"You've seen me eat."

She turned to start pacing around the table. The coffee shop wasn't very busy, so she had the space to circle the table without bumping into anyone. "Not as much as other humans eat. Are you a different species than them? Perhaps evolved to require more caffeine and less nutrients?"

"Sit down and stop being snarky," Tony said.

"No. Perhaps this is the same evolution that lets you sleep once every three days instead of once a day the way everyone else does."

"Natasha," he groaned. "Can you bother me about this when I'm not on a deadline?"

"You're always on a deadline."

"All the more reason to stop being snarky altogether," he muttered lowly, but he knew that she heard him.

"Have you considered lightening your workload? Less coffee, more sleep, and an all-around better life for you."

"If I had less coffee and more sleep, I would get nothing done."

"You said the same thing before you stopped drinking alcohol," she said.

"And it was true." He didn't regret giving it up, but there was no denying the fantastic waves of inspiration he'd gotten while drunk off his ass. The resulting hangover had balanced him out by making him incapable of doing anything but laying in bed, but he did sort of miss those days. He wasn't going to say as much to Natasha, though. She probably already knew what he was thinking because of the whole guardian angel thing. Or maybe that wasn't a power they had and she was just that good at reading him. He didn't really know, and he wasn't sure he cared.

"Yes, how dare I make you more healthy? A tragedy, to be sure."

"It kind of is."

Natasha's wings snapped close against her back like they did when she was aggravated with him. He didn't look up, but he heard it happen. "Why are you so insistent on fighting me? I'm trying to look out for you."

"Not because you like me," he muttered, not really meaning to.

"I may have been sent here, but do not think for a second that I do not love you, Tony. If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't be here."

At that, Tony did look over at her. She'd stopped opposite him, arms crossed over her chest. He took a gulp from his newest latte. "You're not allowed to leave me once you've been assigned, right?"

"Wrong. I can request a transfer at any time."

"Oh." He blinked at her, and she stared back stonily. "Good to know." He started to turn back to his work, but he glanced back up at her a scant moment later. "When I first asked you about this-" years ago "-you told me that I was stuck with you."

"Because I already knew that I had no interest in being reassigned."

"You could've said that."

"And deal with you acting out to try and get rid of me?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tony opened his mouth to deny it, then he closed his mouth again. "How many other half-truths have you told me?"

"Only as many as you've told me," she said evenly.

"So a ridiculous amount, then."

"I'm just trying to keep things even."

Tony snorted, but he wasn't actually very bothered by it. Like she’d said, fair was fair. "Does that mean that if I stop lying to you...?"

"I will follow suit."

"You're a lot sneakier than I gave you credit for."

Natasha grinned, her wings finally returning to a more normal position. "Did you really think you would be assigned a run-of-the-mill angel?"

"Not to sound too ignorant, but yeah, I sort of did."

"Well, you're only human. Some mistakes in logic are expected."

"What mistake in logic? Is there some sort of hierarchy for guardian angels that are supposed to be considered common knowledge?"

She looked puzzled for a moment, then cleared her expression and said, "You really should stop piling so much work on yourself."

*

Tony was used to ignoring his feelings, so he wasn't agonizing over it very much when he realized that he liked Natasha. He had a habit of finding the absolute worse person to develop feelings for, and then falling in love. So yeah, he'd gotten pretty good at ignoring his feelings over the years.

He couldn't deny it anymore when Natasha sat in his lap one day, though. He only had so much self-control. He didn't even have to do anything because she kissed him; all he had to do was kiss her back. He got used to being with her like that in a hurry. He got used to the way she would drape one wing over him as they slept, even though it tickled him at first.

They weren't together like that all the time. Hell, he still didn't go to sleep every night, and more often than not, Natasha was too busy trying to make sure he didn't hurt himself that there wasn't much time for romance or cuddling-- because being together hadn't made him listen to her anymore than before.

"Finally going to sleep?" Natasha asked.

"Mm," Tony said, because forming words was too much. He'd written far past the point that his hand hurt. It was completely cramped up, and he knew that he should do something about it before going to sleep, but he felt like he was going to fall over.

Natasha put her hands on his shoulders. "Deep breath," she instructed, and he did so.

He felt warmth seep into his muscle and down into his writing hand. When she pulled her hands away, the pain was gone. He flexed his fingers experimentally. "Thanks." He rubbed at his eyes. He was so tired that they itched, which was annoying, but it's not as if he could stay up longer and wait for it to go away.

"Of course. Come on, I'll help you change."

Tony yawned so wide that his jaw hurt. "Is that normal guardian angel behavior?" he mumbled.

"Each situation is different. 'Normal' is incredibly subjective." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

*

Tony blinked. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm your new guardian angel," he replied.

"Where's Natasha?"

"I have no idea, man. I just go where the boss tells me. My name's Sam, by the way."

"Well, what happened to her?"

"I don't know."

"Can you ask?"

Sam blinked. "I... could try, but I don't think you'll get an answer. Normally, when one guardian angel leaves, you don't hear from them again."

"Yeah, but did she leave? Or was she taken off my case by your boss?" 'Your boss' because Natasha had insisted it wasn't god how he thought of it.

"Like I said, I don't know." He shifted in place, wings ruffling uncertainly. Natasha's wings were black; Sam's were white. Tony didn't know if that meant anything, but the white was practically blinding. "Look man, are you okay? You look kind of devastated. I know that she was your guardian for like ten years, but this seems kind of extreme."

"She was my guardian for ten fucking years and you don't see why I'm upset?" Tony asked incredulously. If Sam was here to stay, this was not going to go well. He folded his arms over his chest. "I want to talk to her."

"That can't happen," Sam said immediately.

"Why not?"

"It's against regulation."

"So?" Natasha had said the regulations were for people that didn't know what they were doing.

"So I'm not doing it."

"Seriously? You're being serious right now."

"Uh, yeah," Sam said.

Tony stared at him. "What the fuck. Me and Natasha were paired together for ten years, and now you're telling me that I can't talk to her?"

"Yeah..." Sam said with trepidation, clearly not having anticipated this kind of reaction.

"That's bullshit. I want my old guardian angel back. Or a new one, if that can't happen." But personally, he didn't believe that getting Natasha back was impossible. There was no way that she had asked to be reassigned. Could guardian angels get sick? Maybe she needed to get back home and recharge or something; she'd said that his case was an unusually long one.

"I'm afraid you don't get to request for her to come back."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Regulations."

Tony rolled his eyes, hard. This wasn't his usual fond annoyance that he had for Natasha and Rhodey. This was more like the way he used to roll his eyes at his father when he wasn't looking and all his professors when- well, when they said pretty much anything to him. "Fine."

*

He felt kind of bad about it since it wasn't Sam's fault, but he ignored him all the time. He didn't listen to a damn thing he said. Any time he tried to do something for Tony, Tony shoved him away-- sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally. It only took two times for Sam to stop trying to touch him, but the rest stayed. After all, he was Tony's guardian angel; he was trying to do his job.

"When was the last time you slept through the night?" Sam asked.

"Last night, or haven't you been paying attention?"

"That was three hours."

"How would you know? You were still asleep when I got up."

"I know when you wake up even if I decide to keep sleeping."

"I thought guardian angels didn't need to sleep."

"I don't need to, but I like it," Sam said. He was a lot grumpier than Natasha had been.

"Natasha never complained when I got up in the middle of the night."

"Then maybe she wasn't doing a very good job of guiding you."

Tony glared at him. "Natasha was the best. You never could've handled me five years ago."

"It shouldn't have taken her that long to make progress with you," Sam said. "I'm not blaming her; we all have our own timelines for how things will progress and our own methods, but-"

"Do you think that insulting her is really going to make me like you more?"

"No," he said easily. "But I am trying to understand why you're so attached because it seems to me that Natasha overstepped and made you rely on her too much. It's what makes her so good, to have her charges care about her the way they do, but on an assignment this long, she should've known better."

Should've known better, perhaps, but Tony wasn't going to blame her for that. God knows he made more than his fair share of mistakes; she should get to make a few of her own. That being said, Tony didn't actually think of it as a mistake. He loved Natasha. She'd always been there. Even when he screamed and tried to get rid of her, she'd been there. Even when she'd gotten mad at him, she'd been there. When Tony had no one else in the world that cared about him, Natasha was there. Part of that was because she was assigned to him, but after a few years, Tony had learned that she truly wanted to be there, with him.

That was the start of when Tony started ignoring Sam altogether. He knew he was being an absolute dick, but he would do far worse to get Natasha back.

He started hosting parties. He let himself seep back into his work and kept the hours he wanted with no regard for anyone else. It was childish, he knew, but he didn't stop. Sam never stopped trying to get through to him, but it was clear that he didn't expect anything to come of it-- his patience had long since run out.

He walked into a liquor store and stared for a very long time at a bottle of whiskey. It was the cheap shit. The kind he'd be able to swig and drown the bad taste with more of it. He looked at the bottle, and his fingers itched. In the end, he walked out empty-handed. He wasn't willing to give up the sobriety that he'd worked so hard for-- that was still a struggle to maintain. It might get Natasha back if he proved that Sam wasn't doing a very good job, but he wouldn't want to see the disappointment in her face if it did work. Besides, he couldn't. He couldn't do that to himself. There was a curl of shame to him as he headed home, and he didn't know if he was more ashamed that he had tried, or that he hadn't been able to go through with it.

*

"I know it wasn't your main goal," Sam said one day, "but you have successfully accomplished getting rid of me. Your replacement will be here in the morning."

Tony thought about continuing to ignore him, but that seemed cruel. "It wasn't anything personal," he muttered.

"I know. I think I would've preferred if it was, though. At least then I would've deserved it."

"Sorry," Tony said, because he could be gracious in victory.

"Eh, I'll get over it. I once had a charge that tried to kill me, so you're not that bad."

"Shit."

"Right? So you're not my favorite charge, but you're also not the worst. I still don't get why you're so intent on getting Natasha back. Now that you're getting rid of me, would you care to share?"

"Nope."

Sam sighed. "Yeah. Didn't think so."

*

The next guardian angel was a woman named Sharon. Evidently, their boss thought that Tony would be more receptive to a woman.

She was gone a hell of a lot faster than Sam. The one after her was Steve, who lasted a similar amount of time. Tony had completely shattered his sleep schedule, but it's not like he was going to meetings or something. He made his own hours, which meant he could screw them up and not face consequences other than craving food from a joint that wasn't open-- which, not to be dramatic, was absolutely soul crushing at times.

After that was Bucky. He reminded Tony of Natasha in some strange way. At first he thought it was because his wings were black as well, and then he realized that it was because they moved the same way. Held themselves the same way. Spoke with a similar cadence. Reminded him of certain tasks without sounding demanding. Tony started listening to him without really meaning to, and he thought about backtracking, but Bucky and Natasha had to know each other if they were this similar.

"Do you know Natasha?" Tony asked, shortly after figuring it out.

Bucky glanced at him. "Yes." He didn't say anything for a moment, then added, "I was her mentor."

"So you're close?"

He nodded.

"Do you know where she is?"

"Doing time, as it were," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. He and Natasha had the same lounging position.

Tony frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Certain regulations are mostly for show, and others are comparable to crimes in your society."

"What crime-comparable regulation could she have possibly broken?" Tony asked incredulously. He was pretty sure he'd know if she'd done something, and he hadn't noticed a damn thing.

"Officially, I don't know a damn thing."

"Are guardian angels allowed to curse?" Tony wondered aloud.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

"I'm going to interpret that look as 'yes, we can curse if we're fun'?"

He snorted.

"Unofficially, what do you know?" Tony asked.

"That it was a real dumb move of her to fall in love with you." Tony's stomach dropped. "Not judging," Bucky continued. "I've fallen in love with a charge before too. When you know someone that well, you're going to love them in some way. Sometimes it fucks you over."

Tony swallowed thickly. Bucky already knew, and he didn't seem to care one way or the other about it. It had been a dumb move for Natasha to fall in love with him, much less act on it, and Tony had known that before Bucky put words to it. "That doesn't tell me where she is."

"Like I said, doing time. At the home office, on probation. She won't be allowed to leave for a while."

"How long is a while?" Where Tony had gotten older, she hadn't changed. He figured guardian angels had a ridiculously long lifespan if they weren't out and out immortal.

"I dunno. They didn't let me leave until he was dead. They might do the same here. It depends on how cooperative Natasha is," Bucky said evenly, then he sighed. "I wouldn't count on seeing her again."

"They never let you see him again?"

Bucky didn't respond. He didn't need to.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Who would've looked out for him better than you?"

Bucky scuffed his foot against the floor. "His attachment to me made him care less about the world around him. I imagine they're trying to avoid the same thing with you."

"It's none of their fucking business."

"They make it their business."

"So what are you saying? I should forget about her?"

"I wasn't giving you advice; I was telling you what happened. It didn't work out for me, so I don't know why you'd listen to any advice I could give you anyways."

"How to do it better than you, maybe?" Tony suggested, but internally, he was thinking that he had no fucking idea what he was going to do. He didn't believe in not doing anything. He just needed to make a battle plan.

*

In the end, Natasha was the one who took care of it. She showed up on his doorstep, looking oddly off-balanced without her wings.

"What the hell happened?" Tony asked. Then he got his wits about him and pulled her inside. He gave her a slightly awkward hug because he was used to working around her wings, and they weren't there anymore. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Then, "A little off. Everything feels different now."

"You can tell me about it later."

"Not now?"

She sounded too down-trodden to want to talk about it, so Tony said, "Nah, I've got to get used to you again. Bucky's here, by the way."

She snorted. "Only he would've finagled himself into this position."

"How dare you. I am a delight." He wasn't going to tell her about the other guardian angels he chased away. Not for a while, at least. Maybe a couple years from now, when they settled into whatever their new normal was going to be.